Food for thought: If we are what we eat, I’m probably Vegemite toast

At a dinner party recently, my friends and I played that fun parlour game: “Show Us Your Instagram Explore Page”. My partner’s page was full of sports and lawnmowing videos. The female host’s had cavorting puppies. One male friend’s page – inexplicably, how did that happen? – was full of pics of women in bikinis. Mine, predictably, was full of food videos or, at least, a very niche version thereof. My delicious, guilty pleasure is watching What I Eat in a Day videos. My Instagram feed is a smorgasbord.

For years, this masthead has run a Day on a Plate column, and it’s always my favourite read of the week. Each Sunday, I flick straight to it, keen to marvel at – and, yes, judge – the choices of the interviewee. Creatine for breakfast? I don’t even know what that is. An entire roll of crackers for lunch? Wow. That’s questionable. Only one square of dark chocolate after dinner? Oh please. We both know you’re lying.

Since Instagram and TikTok, however, Day on a Plate has been elevated into a live action visual feast. A potluck of social media influencers, ranging from college students to models to athletes to fat activists to proponents of ultra-fringe diets post about their daily intakes, and I devour them like so many biscuits with my cup of tea.

We all enjoy a portal into other people’s lives. Some of you like to watch strangers do their exercise regimes. Some of you want to see what they do in a day at work. Some of you watch influencers choose outfits or apply makeup or pack suitcases, or clean houses from top to toe.

I like to know what other people eat and if there’s video footage, even better. The more woo-woo or unusual or wildly abundant, the happier I am. Our diets may not be windows into our souls, but they reveal much about our routines, finances and priorities.

It’s oddly gratifying to see someone eat fried chicken.Credit: Shutterstock

I am a functional (read “boring”) eater who hates cooking. I prepare the same rotation of easy meals for my kids and will happily eat Vegemite toast or noodles if I’m alone. I am fascinated by people who eat very differently to me, like the influencers whipping up hot breakfasts for one and the chefs cooking elaborate meals entirely from scratch. I am equally enthralled by influencers who eat massive quantities of food, like the bodybuilders cheerfully smashing six meals a day or the out-and-proud “fatties” downing buckets of fried chicken.

Similarly, I never tire of watching influencer mums pack extreme school lunches. I’m enraptured by the Almond Mums who prepare veggie sticks and homemade sushi rolls, all cut into flower shapes and placed in stackable stainless-steel pails. I marvel at the feeder mums who chuck in 11 different types of processed snack, a giant flask of soda, and enough meat and pasta to satisfy a long-haul trucker, all for an average-sized fifth-grader.

I am rather less enamoured of the highly restricted eaters, who hover dangerously on the brink of eating disorders. I’ve seen one “frugivore vegan” who wolfs down entire bunches of bananas for breakfast, and a “carnivore ex-vegan” who subsists entirely on beef and whole sticks of cold butter. And I have still not recovered from learning that actor Gwyneth Paltrow lives on bone broth and vegetables and gets her essential nutrients from IV infusions instead of food.

Vegemite on toast. It’s my go-to if I’m alone. Credit: Eamon Gallagher

Still, apart from these fringe elements, What I Eat in a Day and Pack My Kid’s Lunchbox with Me videos remain my internet snack of choice. They are wholesome, if not always nutritious, and do not preach any agenda to the audience. They are independent of our increasingly distressing news cycle, and they are blessedly non-judgmental and apolitical. I don’t know if my favourite food diarist is progressive or conservative, whether she approves of abortion, or what she thinks about wars overseas. I just know that she loves chicken nuggets and Starbucks, and drinks a lot of water from a Stanley cup throughout the day.

So here I sit, with my dull slices of Vegemite toast, watching her dip crispy wings into creamy ranch dressing and pop them delightedly in her mouth. It sates my curiosity about other peoples’ lives and distracts me for a moment from the perils of the world. And, for some reason, it’s just oddly gratifying to watch another person munch on fried chicken.

And if my Instagram Explore page gets me some questioning looks, well, I’ll just have to swallow that down.

Kerri Sackville is a columnist, mother of three and the author of The Secret Life of You: How a bit of alone time can change your life, relationships and maybe the world.