Food/drink as judgment for dating & relationships
Lauren is a 30-something, agnostic, unmarried, Asian-American, woman who lives in the Bay Area.
David is 60-something, Zen Juddhist, married with an adult son, man who lives in Flint.
The Rules – They choose a topic, and with no discussion, each knocks out around 1,000 words. What you get is the straight scoop, the skinny, the 4-1-1 on what each one thinks.
Come back each month for more Lauren & David Write!
DAVID:
Disclaimer #1 – I’ve been married, happily, for a while now. If I was single, my deal-breakers would be the same as they were when I was single.
Disclaimer #2 – If you’re ‘dating’ someone you hooked up with on Tinder, different rules & guidelines may apply. Choose wisely.
Relationships are a weird amalgamation, aren’t they, Lauren? Most of us, we want a deep friend, a trusted companion, a buddy, a good sex partner, someone who makes us laugh, and most importantly, someone who laughs with us. And how do we suss this out? We join someone for food and beverages.
It’s ludicrous—what relationship is more fraught with danger zones and deep-seated childhood issues than food? It’s like asking someone to defuse a bomb before you’ll play Monopoly with them.
I’m putting this, Lauren, right at the very top. How one views food and drink is THE bellwether for how one faces the world.
LAUREN:
It’s never my intention to make anyone feel self conscious or attacked, so let me explain myself a little bit. We all make judgments to get through our day-to-day life, it’s in our nature. We judge people we do know, people we don’t know, and especially people we’re getting to know as we start a new relationship. I know that I’m of the generation of social media, but curated profiles, algorithms, and the speed of “swipe left” / “swipe right” decisions in dating app culture aren’t my preferred means of connection. I would much rather meet people the “old fashioned way”, in real life. I want to read your body language, feel your energy, do an activity, experience something together.
DAVID:
Picture it, Lauren, it’s your first date. You agree to meet for beverages and snacks at a place like a Chris Cosentino restaurant that is famed for serving everything from snout to tail on the animal. You agree on a bottle of wine. Maybe you order a couple of interesting beers because that way, you agree, you can sample your partner’s bevvie. “Hey, this is good,” you think.
Menus arrive, your partner looks it over for a minute and says, “Oh, by the way, I’m a vegetarian.”
Now, my alarm bells go off. Not at the vegetarian part. That’s totally cool. What rings the chimes is that this restaurant is famed for meats. And your date agreed to meet here. If someone can’t say what they need, even for something as simple as snacks on a first date, maybe there are some issues here that need to be addressed.
It could’ve gone like this:
“Hey, you wanna meet up at Snout?”
“Not really, I’m vegetarian. Could we meet at that new Indian place instead?”
“Absolutely. Love Indian food.”
And Bob’s your uncle; the date is off to a good start.
LAUREN:
When I first meet someone (professional, platonic, or a little more personal), each thing they say or do is an amuse-bouche of information, hinting at who this mysterious new person is. It’s like a tiny buffet of opportunities to learn more about them; and, with that, I’m making constant assessments (consciously or not) of whether I want to continue spending time getting to know them. Do we have common interests? Do we have shared values? Generally, do I feel good in your company? Dating is one of the most focused and structured ways that this happens (okay, and maybe job interviews). And what better way to ease into getting to know each other than over food and beverages… “Wanna grab coffee sometime?” Sounds good. “How about dinner on Saturday?” Yes, please.
DAVID:
Let’s talk deal-breakers for a second, Lauren.
Number 1) Tobacco use. That’s it. Bam. No chance. Many years back, I dated a woman, 3 or 4 times, casual, you understand. Anyway, I ran into her, out with the girls, at the bar at our local ski hill. With a cigarette in her mouth.
“Wha?”
“Well, I only smoke at the bar when I’m out with the girls. And I’ve never smoked around you, so…”
End of relationship.
Number 2) Politics. In this post-Obama era, the lines are clearly drawn. You support Trump and his politics of hate and division, you think QAnon “has some good points,” that there are “very good people on both sides,” that vaccines are the devil’s own handiwork, not only am I not interested in any sort of relationship, I don’t want anything to do with you on any level. But I digress.
What am I in search of? Someone with a little sense of adventure. I want to spend time with someone who will venture a little off their chosen foodways path. My life is about doing new stuff, trying things out, scaring myself a little. It may sound weird, since I’m so much of a happy-to-stay-at-home guy, but throughout my life, I’ve taken some giant leaps of faith. I’ve come to know that how people eat and drink mirrors their willingness to take a risk. You face a plate with joy and verve? You’ve got my attention.
LAUREN:
David…look into my eyes… two of my favorite things are connecting with people and consuming tasty treats. I am, absolutely, extroverted in that being around others energizes me — like that damn pink bunny with the bass drum from the commercials in the 90s, I just keep going and going and going. I’m usually the one who can be found striking up a conversation with random people at a networking event, friend’s house party, or while waiting in line for almost anything. And food and drinks are probably my unofficial love language. Trying to “woo” me? Flowers are nice and all, but I would much rather be surprised by a breakfast sandwich, some thoughtfully selected snacks, a pint of ice cream, or maybe a milk tea.
While these two loves run deep for me, they don’t always work harmoniously together. The intersection of noshing and dating can be such a minefield of vulnerability and snap judgements! Like Forrest Gump’s mama always said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” For better or worse, the medium of meals provides me with useful insights. The eyes may be the windows to the soul, but breaking bread together just might be the gateway to your personality and values.
DAVID:
Want to know four words that scare me all to hell, Lauren?
“I don’t like fish.”
All fish? Prepared in every way possible? Or because once you had some stinky-ass piece of tilapia at a place that specialized in poutine and chili-cheese fries and for some stupid reason your date ordered the fish, you tasted it, and you concluded that all fish smelled like low tide next to the cannery? A sample size of one, and that’s under the assumption that week old tilapia is still, in fact, fish.
Are you willing to re-visit the fish issue? We would start low on the fish ladder. Some good fish and chips, with excellent tartar sauce, a little malt vinegar for the fries, and an ice-cold glass of local lager on the side? You’ll try it? Okay, now we might be getting somewhere. You still won’t taste it? Hmmm.
See, I think that speaks volumes about a world-view.
I like chicken. I do prefer free-range birds when they’re available, just because I think a wandering chicken tastes better than a one cooped up all its life. But one thing I don’t need is a lecture on the cruelties inflicted on birds in commercial farms along with details of a chicken slaughterhouse video you watched when I order the chicken marsala at Il Lavoro Italiano on Friday evening.
I get it, too, that this may be a time for you to be judgy. If chicken cruelty is a deal-breaker for you, that’s cool, because my life will go on, and so will yours, but not with each other.
“I only drink red wine.” “You won’t even venture a sample sip of rose`?”
“I don’t like salume` and sausage and all that charcuterie stuff. It’s made with all the waste parts of the pig.” “Well, that’s not exactly accurate, and besides, isn’t it wasteful to not eat all of the animal?”
“McDonald’s is gross.” “I’m not saying it needs to be a regular part of our diet, but can’t we grab some fries and a shamrock shake just this once?”
Yes, some people have texture issues. Or childhood trauma when the parents made them sit at the table, staring at an unwanted slice of liver (“You will sit there until you eat your dinner, young man!”), as they fell asleep in their chair. Hell, I can’t stand melon, they smell like rotting garbage to me, but there isn’t another fruit that I won’t eat. Or at least, I’ll try them.
This is different, eh? It’s the sweeping generalizations that make me say, “hmm.” When I hear blanket statements, I always envision Dana Carvey’s Church Lady. And frankly, I wouldn’t want to hang out with her. Who would, except maybe other Church Ladies?
LAUREN:
It’s not about the specific food in question — I don’t have a vendetta against pineapple on pizza or anything — but more so about the intention, process, or what your choices might be telling me about you. Actions speak louder than cheese curds, if you will. When it comes to people, it’s about understanding them, so not much feels very “make-or-break” for me (within reason, of course). That being said, there are definitely a handful of things that will, at least momentarily, stop me in my tracks.
DAVID:
But it’s not always about can’t or won’t or don’t, is it? Sometimes, it’s excessive excess.
“Let’s order some tequila shots!”
“Um, okay, but we just sat down. Can we get some food first? I’ve been at work all day.”
“Aw, come on! You are no fun!”
“What I am is hungry. And this is our first date. Nachos first, then shots, I promise.”
“Wuss.”
“No, what I am is a guy who knows what happens when he does shots on an empty stomach.”
“Wuss.”
For someone, sure, that person is the perfect party partner. For me, not so much. I like a drink or two. But two’s enough. And they’re saying about me, “Damn, this guy is a load.”
LAUREN:
Let’s talk about when the forecast is looking a little “Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs”. I don’t have a problem with sharing, but do not take things off my plate without asking. Don’t just continue the conversation with me as you nonchalantly reach for a french fry from, literally, right under my nose. What is this entitlement? Do you have no respect for boundaries? Does consent mean nothing to you? Don’t get me wrong, I’m usually happy to share. In fact, I love sharing. Let’s plan on it and both order different items so that we can try more dishes, or go in on a shared appetizer or dessert. Your little Hamburglar move is stealing, and it’s not cute.
There’s also something that makes me question folks who won’t eat finger food with their fingers. Say we’re eating chicken wings or drumsticks, shellfish, ribs, pizza (with the possible exception of deep dish), or even cupcakes. I absolutely expect you to get down and dirty with these foods that require your full commitment. Are you trying to be restrained and hold back, or aiming to be perfect in some way? Get real with me.
DAVID:
I am judgy when it comes to relationships. There is a limited amount of time in our lives and our quotidian existence. I’m judging the hell out of someone, not harshly but fairly, when I decide with whom I’m going to invest my heart. On the other side, please, judge me, too. Don’t waste your time with me if I’ve already checked all your buzzkill boxes.
I’m a guy, Lauren, who knows himself. I’m willing to jump out of a plane or quit a good job for one that might be more interesting. I’m open with my feelings, yet I always hold a bit in reserve. I keep some pieces of the self-puzzle to share as the relationship develops. I want that in a partner. I’m grateful I found that in my wife.
Over the years, I’ve found that how someone behaves at the table and bar is a damn fine indicator of ability to laugh, take risks, have fun, plan a life, be thoughtful- all the things that go into a true relationship. I suspect that within two dates, one to a pub/bar/dive/diner, and the other to a white-tablecloth restaurant, I could tell if a date had the legs to become a relationship. Food is that primal.
LAUREN:
It’s not all bad reviews though, there are plenty of positives that reveal themselves on the tablescape. At the forefront, it’s more fun to be with someone who is willing to try something new themselves, or encourage me to try something new. Respect for knowing what you like, but if you refuse to try a new restaurant or won’t even entertain the idea of finding out what Laotian or Afghan food encompasses… we may not be able to grow together. I want to play with my food to some extent. Test the boundaries of my taste buds, learn about other cultures in the process, maybe fail a few times and learn that maybe I don’t need to ever eat uni again. We don’t know what we don’t know, and I want to learn. Keep things, metaphorically, spicy.
In the same vein, if you are atypically knowledgeable about a type of food, beverage, ingredient, or it’s industry, that absolutely piques my interest. Let me be clear, David, I am in no way asking to be mansplained to; but if something comes up naturally in conversation, bring on the interesting facts and anecdotes. If I keep asking you follow-up questions, I’m still interested.
“Sake brewers are called toji and were traditionally only allowed to be men?”
“Wait, I knew it was rice wine, but it actually uses rice fungus called koji?”
“How do you even know this?”
“You lived in Japan for 4 years??”
Let’s order another round and you can walk me through more of this culinary journey.
And maybe this one is for everyone, but if you can cook… huge brownie points (no pun intended). If you know your way around a kitchen and can wield a knife with a bit of skill… heck, if you can successfully follow a recipe for a dish or a cocktail… reservation for Lauren, please! I think this goes back to my unofficial love language. I guess I want someone who is open minded and going to respect, challenge, teach, care for, and be real with me. Is that too much to ask for in a relationship?
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This post is republished on Medium.
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