Upon reading Andrea Scotting’s startling “Diary of a Food Racist” in the Atlantic:
Snacktime: Is it just me, or is this the stupidest food story ever written?
Meatball: JACKPOT! This makes it all worthwhile.
Julia Childless: OMFHFGJKLFG.
Snacktime: Because hahaha it’s so QUIRKY to read about people dying in Haiti and then crave Haitian food.
Meatball: My favorite part, aside from the blatant freakish racism, YES RACISM, is: “I’m an admitted food obsessive, a carnivorous locavore worshipping at the altar of Alice Waters and Thomas Keller and whoever invented the immersion blender. “ I love when people worship false idols. Makes me feel so… old testamenty. Or just testy.
Julia Childless: Nothing like stories where nice white ladies admit—tee hee! aren’t I controversial?—that they’re sorta racist.
Snacktime: It’s so manipulative. She uses “I’m a racist” in the headline, and then she back down from it and is all no, I’m not really, the only sin I have committed is to be a lover of food! Lady, trust me, that is not your only sin. It’s not even a diary! Everything about this is offensive or a lie.
Meatball: And the slip of the 9 mos old with the FOODIE IN TRAINING MEAL.
Julia Childless: Most of the time, we’re good-naturedly saying “Shut up, foodie.” Not this time.