[Last modified: October, 13 2024 03:35 PM]
I am sitting in a large brown leather chair in a Starbucks on the corner of Tottenham Court Road and Warren Street. Its seat cushion still retains some of the original plushness it must have been made with, but the fabric is slightly lighter in this spot than on its legs and back, betraying its age and use. As I look up from my small circular table in the corner by the window, I see other students and business people, most of whom are typing on Apple laptops, with various forms of Apple headphones filling their ears with their own personal soundtrack. If they have chosen to opt into the starbucks playlist instead, like I have, they hear relaxing jazz over the speakers, the screech of the milk steamer, the general hum of overlapping conversations throughout the room, and forks and cups hitting porcelain plates.
I focus on a mother and daughter ordering “a small cappuccino with soy milk, a small hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, and a piece of banana bread to go,” all under the name “Elizabeth”. I wonder if Elizabeth’s request for soy milk is a preference, due to an allergy to milk, or a lactose intolerance. I think about the inflammation linked to dairy consumption, the dairy industry itself, and my own personal dietary restrictions caused by coeliac disease. She did not ask any questions about cross contamination, especially with that districtly screechy milk steamer, so I assume that whatever the reason, it must not be medically serious. Then again, I think about the shame, embarrassment, and burden I feel when having to explain my needs around food to anyone, let alone the person I’m ordering from.
The barista taking Elizabeth’s order does not ask any follow up questions, and this reminds me of how normalized fad diets have become in Western culture: from almond milk to oat milk to gluten free pasta to villainizing anything that is in a package. I think about how food has become a source of illness, with ultra processed foods destroying the microbiome but on the other hand how orthorexia claims lives. I think about how dietary restrictions are seen as a choice rather than serious and if your allergy or intolerance does not result in anaphylaxis it might as well be irrelevant.
All of this gets me thinking about how easy it is for the majority of the population to walk into a Starbucks in almost any city in the world and in a couple of moments decide what they want to eat and drink based solely on their cravings and what ‘sounds’ best. I think about how life changing coeliac disease is as I sit with my peppermint tea, inspecting the cup and spoon for any trace of crumbs that may have made their way into my drink. With this autoimmune disease, food becomes a source of illness, a pathogen, a danger to the immune system, and something to be feared rather than enjoyed socially with spontaneity.