Loathsome Lunches: The Impact of Food Dudes on Irish Society

By Features Reporter Oisín Henebery.

I found myself sitting down to my first lecture recently, a week late if I am being perfectly frank. There was the usual hustling and bustling, as we each wrestled for prime seats in company law. With everyone happily ensconced, some students drew their MacBook’s from their leather cases, and laptops were similarly withdrawn. Bright and empty Microsoft documents stared out at enthusiastic yet pensive faces. However, there was one student whom such inventions and innovations had yet to endear. Instead of these shiny new MacBook’s – which, unfortunately, my girlfriend’s best friend just received from her boyfriend as a gift – he instead extracted, from what we can assume was a sporthouse schoolbag, a Food Dudes pencil case. Now while immediate reaction might tend towards the high quality of these pencil cases, their structural integrity and all that, all I could think about at that moment were cucumbers.

I had unfortunate experiences with these vegetables, stood as they did between me and a red sweat band. Similarly, tomatoes hit me, metaphorically, and I remembered the colossal challenge these petulant fruits posed. Alongside run-ins with runner beans, stubborn peppers, which seemed constitutionally determined to remain unconsumed, and dental hotline worthy raisins, vegetables had contrived against me. All these series of tricky encounters had convinced me of one thing: that I hated fruit and vegetables, and although I had flirted with this ideology of hate for some time in my childhood, the Food Dudes represented my zealous conversion.

Now, unsurprisingly, I had consigned these fruity chaps to the compost heap, content to never think about them again. Although they had robbed me of a pedometer on a tomato technicality, I had chosen to forget. Yet in my final year of legal studies, I was confronted with them again. All those memories washed out any concentration I might lend to the company law slides, so instead of notetaking I set about instead distracting others by discussing these Food Dude chaps. Now whether it was appreciated or not I am unsure, but I learned that others’ experiences mirrored mine. A generation’s antipathy towards Food Dudes simmering like a hot vegetable soup.

However, as I considered this antipathy further - admittedly now in an act of post-lecture procrastination – I began to see how our own interpretation of vegetables, and how they can be used, is very much informed by the Food Dudes model. That is to say that vegetables are to be apportioned in little plastic sacks, raw and intimidating. But the idea that vegetables should be consumed in this way, individually, and soullessly, is manifestly false.

I grew up under the much present potatoes, vegetables, and something principle. Indeed, I know many others did too. Although vegetables populate the plate, they are there as a sort of tag along, the guy at the party who doesn’t really know anybody but was brought along by his friend. Not unwelcome, of course not, maybe even adds some colour, but not the main piece. A subsidiary. If the plate were absent of vegetables, it would not be a huge deal. Equally a deficiency in potatoes would not merit huge reaction. However, imagine vegetables served exclusively, left to stand alone, the sole solution to your hunger. With the Food Dudes lessons and “as a side notion” of vegetables, this would incite incredulity. How can vegetables stand alone, and more importantly, how could they replace that “something”?

That is the difficult position in which those arguing for a reduction in our carnivorous culture find themselves. How can it be advanced that these plate dressers, these lunch time troublemakers, can comprise a meal sufficient to support us. Also, and more delicately, how can it be advanced that ordering a vegetable-based dish is not a financial incompetency?

Last year, I achieved one of my lesser ambitions. A friend of mine, really quite a man of habit, had little inclination towards culinary exploration. He would wear a beaten track on its way to the same restaurant. Waiters would know his name. And little could be said by way of persuasive tactics to encourage greater curiosity. One evening, however, I caught him while his guard was down. Having wittingly enjoyed an Italian restaurant for lunch, and already ruled out tapas by way of the night before dinner, he was left with no option but to join our group for Indian food. Now for most people this was not a novel nor new experience, but for this friend, the Indian food represented a break with tradition, with custom, and navigating previously uncharted waters. It was his first Indian dish. I would add at this stage that I promise this is not my eight-year-old brother to whom I allude. Previously stubbornly opposed, he objected to it like I did to that stodgy sprout in fourth class. Of course, he was jolly surprised by just how good it was and set about complimenting his own courage in experimenting. What followed then was a rather rapid expansion in variety of diet. Now Thai was on the menu, Chinese, Tibetan, and Nepalese. The proliferation was immense.

There was one difficulty however, which I failed to overcome.

I could not get him into a vegetarian restaurant. Carrots and sticks would be an unfortunate analogy. Try as I may and as I did, it could not be done. Shallow arguments of taste, price, and fullness were postulated, unconvincingly. It was my Waterloo, my tomato and pedometer, I could just not overcome it.

Now I have since given some consideration to this reality. Before I progress, I should note that the purpose of this mission is not exclusively to get my friends into vegetarian restaurants. Rather, continuous studies have demonstrated to us that our meat-based diet is contributing significantly to our carbon emissions. The ecological cost of feeding our desire for meat is straining our natural resources, posing risk to biodiversity, and releasing unwelcome emissions into the atmosphere. Academics from Michigan said in 2020 that a cut in one’s meat and dairy consumption by 50% could result in cuts to damaging emissions by up to 1.6 billion tonnes of greenhouse gases by 2030. Indeed, whether or not one can be said to reason with taste, the science supporting claims of harm from our meat consumption is robust. Consequently, initiatives aimed at replacing meat in our diets, such as meatless Mondays, serve as environmentally friendly ambitions.

As such my friends were designed as a means-test to determine why despite the science, despite the availability of alternatives, despite willingness to try new things, vegetarian meals are just beyond the pale. Why is it that they will not even try? Why is there no willingness nor belief that perhaps it will taste good?

Well, in my opinion it goes back to the three arguments I described as shallow. Firstly, how can a vegetable alternative taste as good as the “real thing”. I used to think the same thing. I was stubborn, a smart ass, and unwilling to try it at first. However, it is the case that more often than not it tastes even better. If a restaurant can specialize in vegetarian meals, with chefs crafting specialities, there is no reason to distinguish it from any other cuisine. Vegetables are abundant in flavours, varieties, and combinations. If anything, a huge, tasty opportunity is offered to chefs preparing vegetarian dishes. Secondly, I am equally unconvinced by arguments of not feeling full. There is no suggestion that the requisite vitamins, proteins, minerals and other muscle building, strength enhancing fibres cannot be found even if meat consumption is reduced. Indeed, health experts have even alluded to the health benefits of reduced meat consumption, citing reduced risk of heart disease and diabetes. To think that some of the meals we eat now somehow “fill” us more than vegetables could, and to think that we could not be sustained by just a reduced meat intake is therefore a mistaken belief. Lastly, one challenge posed to all vegetarian restaurants is accusations of high prices. How can one pay the same amount for some vegetables as some meat? Well in response, let me pose these questions. Does it contain the same dietary requirements? Can it taste is good? Is the chef using inventive skills and methods? And also, how can a fair comparison be made between the costs of production of both dishes? It is a full and filling meal, so the price is bound to be the same. In fact, when shopping for oneself, the only way in which it might be argued that the meat option is the more financially sensible option would be drawn from comparisons with the cheapest meats.

The difficulty is, that despite perhaps the benefits of a less meat-based diet and a greater openness to alternatives, our psyche is wired with a certain vision of the role of the vegetable. It is on the side, it looks nice, it can bring some flavour, but best seen alongside some beef, or chicken, or duck. We can have both, no doubt, they are all jolly splendid. I love duck, I love chicken, and I love beef, however, I think it may be time to see that vegetables are more than the guy in the corner, more than a pretty face, more than a chore for fourth class students, and possibly a very important tool in reducing our emissions.