Normal-ish Eating

A peek inside real friends’ fridges

There is so much noise in the wellness — still hate the word — and health — still love the word — ecosystem.

According to the internet, everyone is eating 30 grams of protein before 8 a.m., scheduling quarterly juice cleanses like dental check-ups, and absolutely not touching anything sweet after dinner.

At the core of my work is anti-perfectionism. A wider, wiser perspective on health that includes pleasure, culture. So I conducted a small, deeply unscientific survey among friends and family.

I asked them what they actually eat.

Not aspirationally. Not performatively. Just daily.

The results were soothingly beige. In the best way.

The Warsaw Couple

Two friends in Warsaw - a couple, one a gallerist, the other a student - live together in an apartment with excellent light and a brand-new kitchen!

They don’t always have breakfast together. One usually eats yogurt with granola and seasonal fruit, or toast with tomato. The other prefers plain yogurt with honey.

Lunch. The friend that works in gallery eats out on his break — soba noodle soup with fish in winter, something protein-forward if he’s heading to the gym, more carbs if the day demands stamina. On the go: almonds, rice crackers. The one that studies often grabs onigiri at university.

Dinner. Sometimes Indian takeaway. Vegetarian sushi. Thai. Or roasted vegetables with chickpeas and feta, something simple, protein added in. They cook when they can (the new fridge suggests optimism).

They also own an ice cream machine and were making cinnamon ice cream while answering my questions.

There are good produce in the kitchen. Good tea. Good coffee.

My friend in design, 30

My best friend works in design and subscribes to a meal delivery service. “It’s the only way I can eat a variety of food with my schedule,” he told me. Otherwise it would be the same pho on repeat with random snacks.

Three meals a day. Polish, relatively balanced. Not unhealthy, not obsessive. Coke Zero. Sparkling water. Sometimes a protein bar. Restaurants on the weekend.

The New Mother

Recently postpartum.

Her eating rhythm is dictated by naps, cries. Breakfast might be sandwiches with cheese, ham, sometimes sausage. Two hours later: coffee and something sweet, or fruit. If dinner is delayed (which it often is), yogurt with muesli.

But when there is space - she cooks. Chicken or turkey in a cream sauce or tomato sauce. Sometimes Thai-style meatballs. Recently, a sweet potato goulash with broccoli and lentils. A Mexican-style soup. Pork with vegetables in soy sauce.

And when there is no time? Grilled chicken breasts. Fried fish with potatoes or ready-made fries. A quick salad on the side.

Eating, here, is about fuel and comfort and keeping the day stitched together. No one is counting protein grams between feedings. There is simply food appearing, disappearing, reappearing. Like the baby’s sleep schedule!

The Real Estate Friend, 25

Breakfast is often granola with yogurt and blueberries from bistro Charlotte in Warsaw. Other mornings: ham with avocado and an egg.

Chicken soup appears frequently.

For lunch she sometimes goes to Wódka Gessler, a place with traditional cuisine that has been serving its lunches for decades. There it’s rosół, tomato soup, barszcz. Then meat with potatoes and salad, or fish.

If she’s not eating out, lunch is usually soup at home. Dinner might be chicken or some meat with sweet potato. Always something sweet once a day.

My Mother

Breakfast: omelette with yogurt and fruit. Or oatmeal. Or grains with milk - sometimes raw milk from a farmer because she likes real stuff. Lunch: soup with wholegrain bread.

Dinner rotation: two fish days, two meat days, three vegetarian. Chickpea pasta with homemade tomato sauce. Slow-cooked lamb. Seafood with rice.

And always something sweet. Dark chocolate. Dates. Dried apricots or prunes. Yogurt with chia. Rice crackers with peanut butter. She has a sweet tooth (same as me!).

The Parisian, 98

My friend A., 98, retired architect, living in Paris, did not participate in my questionnaire. He simply exists as a counterargument to extremism.

For him, eating is ritual.

Breakfast is: croissant, bread, yogurt, honey, jam, chicory coffee, orange juice. Sometimes ham and cheese. He does not necessarily eat everything. He nibbles.

Each meal has its own plate. Morning porcelain. Evening china. Once I ate from vintage Danish plates; another time from Polish ones.

Lunch is either at home – something his housekeeper sourced from Le Bon Marché, soup, bread, vegetables – or in a brasserie.

There is always an apéritif. One drink. A piece of chocolate or something salty.

Dinner is two courses, sometimes three. Oysters or salad. Fish with some carbohydrate. Or meat. Always something sweet. Always wine. I have never seen him decline it.

Health, in its wiser, less performative form, might be less about control and more about continuity.