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Is obsessing over protein-rich diets taking the joy out of eating?

With a utilitarian focus on what food can do for us rather than how it tastes, coupled with a growing aversion to the humble doggy bag, have we forgotten what it means to appreciate the things that contribute to our wellbeing and keep us alive?

A stroll through the aisles of most supermarkets these days presents a blaze of similarly shaped fonts, all advertising one key nutrient in our groceries: protein.

Whether it’s added to your breakfast cereal or in the makeup of your meat alternative, protein is continuing to take precedence over flavour on our shelves and in our pantries.

Amongst the reasons for this is Gen Z’s obsession with the gym, one of the only places in society these days where, if we lift enough and eat right, we’re guaranteed to see positive results. But the ongoing plight for protein can also be linked with the decline in veganism in recent years.

The vegan diet sees withering yogis criticised for an overabundance of empathy married with concerns about various nutritional deficiencies. However, such worries about veganism seem to come predominantly from those not adopting it and others who are apparently unaware of the nutritional makeup of plants.

As with most of our basic needs, including sleep, the necessity of a balanced diet has failed to escape the clutches of capitalist marketisation. Protein, the only macronutrient which contains nitrogen and enables our growth and tissue repair, certainly plays a part in this.

That is to say, there’s a good chance that, as Bee Wilson wrote for the Guardian back in 2019, if you’re worried you’re not getting enough protein, you probably are.

@madelinemary__

Replying to @themarissa STOP THE PROTEIN!!! #protein #proteinshake #workingout #gain #plantbased #foodismedicine #foodisfuel #healing #healingtiktok #chronicillnessawareness #chronicillness

♬ UNDERWATER WONDERSCAPES (MASTER) – Frederic Bernard

Of course, that won’t stop companies from slapping a label on a bag of powder and calling it an essential item for anyone who engages in regular physical exercise.

This is despite the fact that many of us, including ancient Greek athletes – those seen as the archetypal figures of athleticism and strength – seemed to have been managing fine without it prior to the rise of bodybuilding and strength training in the 1950s.

What’s more, our obsession with protein as a dissociated victual rather than one of many components of a healthy balanced diet speaks to western society’s obsession with diet culture and corresponding thinness.

This view continues to damage our relationship with food and with our bodies, exemplified, for instance, in the proliferation of ‘#thinspo’ accounts (“banned” in 2012) disguised as ‘fitspiration’ on Instagram, as protein remains the last macronutrient standing once we’ve cut out delicious things like fat and carbohydrates.

 

 

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As Wilson writes, ‘in this world of abundance, humans seem to be on an eternal quest for the one safe substance that we can consume in limitless quantities without gaining weight’. In this way, protein is to food packaging as diet is to cola, irrespective of the negative effects of other chemicals, like aspartame, included in the fine print on our groceries.

To illustrate the devastation of this protein prioritisation over flavour, I could simply include here the clip of Andrew Tate discussing the protein rich meal he regularly prepared prior to his economic success.

This consisted of plain rice, kidney beans for protein, frozen peas, and minced meat because he couldn’t bring himself to be a vegetarian for reasons undisclosed. His clearly fragile relationship with meat-fuelled masculinity might pose some sort of clue, but I digress.

On the flip side of this protein-rich approach to our food consumption, many restaurants have reported a so-called demise of the doggie bag, the humble and effective, albeit hardly radical, approach to cutting down on food waste. As Alyson Krueger writes in The New York Times, average Americans each leave around $329 worth of food on plates at restaurants every year.

@madelinemary__

Replying to @themarissa STOP THE PROTEIN!!! #protein #proteinshake #workingout #gain #plantbased #foodismedicine #foodisfuel #healing #healingtiktok #chronicillnessawareness #chronicillness

♬ UNDERWATER WONDERSCAPES (MASTER) – Frederic Bernard

Like with the Gen Z gym goers, this decline in take-home leftovers could also be largely attributed to a focus on fitness, with chips/potatoes coming in first in WRAP’s list of the top binned food types in food venues.

This cutting of (delicious, salty) carbs – amongst other types of food waste – would, by extension, suggest that we’re failing to realise the joy of eating beyond fuelling our bodies. From sharing dinner with friends to immersing ourselves in culinary cultures, to enjoying a pick-me-up treat without a care for the calories it contains.

Feminist Lola Olufemi even writes about the act of preparing and consuming food as ‘a sustaining force for radical social movements’, of eating as an act of resistance. She does this through the re-sentimentalisation of cooking as a necessary, political act of social reproduction, rather than a domestic or romantic chore.

Olufemi re-situates the struggle within the kitchen, and argues that the labour carried out within is ‘intrinsically linked to the political strategies being devised outside of it’.

A utilitarian view of food as fuel associated with a permeated focus on fitness reduces our consumption to teleological means, making eating worthwhile only if it serves a greater purpose. This might be to look a certain way or lift a certain amount, rather than enjoying the social aspects of food preparation and consumption.

@z100newyork

Restaurant owners have noticed fewer people are taking leftovers home—and they’re wondering why. Maybe it’s the hassle of carrying them around, or just not wanting to deal with them later. But if you’re not planning to eat them, consider giving your leftovers to someone in need. It’s a small gesture that can make a big difference! 🍽️ @iHeartRadio

♬ original sound – z100newyork

However, teleology isn’t the only factor in our food waste fallacy.

From the fear of asking for a container, to a (false) perception that leftovers just aren’t very sexy, many diners are deciding to decline the rest of their dinner if it means having to carry it home. This is a view that could probably have saved many of us from a dissatisfying post-dinner date night, had we applied it to our date themselves.

Whatever the reason, research from WRAP (the Waste and Resources Action programme) suggests that almost half of dinner deserters in the UK blame plentiful portion sizes for their unemptied plates.

That’s deserters, not desserters, just to clarify.

With the cost of living crisis ongoing – and more people are relying on food banks in Britain than ever before – on top of the state of the environment in continuing catastrophic decline, can we really afford to be leaving behind what we can’t manage in the moment?

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