Monday, March 31, 2014

the other side.

I pretty much universally loathe everything that attempts to define "millennials," including but not limited to Buzzfeed lists about twenty-somethings, the entirety of, and the term "millennial."  Don't try to tell me about me.  Don't try to explain me to myself.  When you're wrong I get high horse-y and when you're right I get frustrated.  And maybe you're like, OMG that response is SO millennial of her, to which I am going to say: Whatever.  Leave me alone.

Naturally, then, when I saw the headline for this Bon Appetit article about millennial food and drink trends, I was all teed up to hate it.  What are we as a generation eating and drinking? I grumbled sarcastically to myself.  Food.  And beverages.  Whatever looks good at Trader Joe's and is not super expensive.  End of study.  Am I a sociologist now?  Ughh.  I was having a great time being disgruntled and annoyed as I scanned the post (couldn't help but click on it, you know how that goes) until I hit a phrase that froze my griping in its tracks.  Citing research done by the Center for Culinary Development, the piece noted that millennials are, on the whole, "health-conscious, yet prone to fits of decadent eating."

Oh.  Oh ok.  That statement is simple enough.  But I think it might also be the truest thing I've ever heard in my life.  I think it might be the mantra that I've been silently intoning since birth.  I think it might be tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.  Never a statement so real.

Yesterday my host fam threw a party, and when I woke up this morning my body was like, HAHAHA oh dear you can never eat again.  The sheer amount of meat and sugar, separately and together, that I consumed was nothing short of record breaking.  Lots of chocolate.  Lots of lamb.  Lots of mojitos.  Very bleak.  A fit of decadent eating if ever I've suffered one.  And so today I am the tails side of the millennial food coin, the one that never fails, called health conscious.

Summoning my strength and ignoring the leftovers spilling calorically from every shelf of the fridge, I whipped up a Love & Lemons chili-orange veggie bowl for dinner.  I do not think it suffered from my subbing in quinoa and withholding pomegranate, because man that sauce!  Just so perfectly spicy and bright, I'm sure I would have liked it drizzled on mold (edit: no, probably not).  A decadent fit is in my future, I know it, I cannot change my destiny.  But for now I am full of broccoli and sweet potato, one very happy whatever I am, aged 19 - 32.

1 comment:

  1. This was a DELIGHT. Pure delight. I experienced a similar feeling after eating dinner Saturday night at a place called Gnocco that, you guessed it, only serves gnocchi (aka HEAVEN), and then drinking what I wish were Spanish mojitos but really just awful vodka shots at the bar next door. The next day I used my Vitamix a lot. And not for milkshakes. For vegetables.