Your picture of the fruit plate at the new café in Bandra puts Van Gogh's still life to shame. And that liquid nitrogen ice cream? The Louvre has a wall reserved just for that.
Your work is art because I do not know anyone who would prefer looking at Mark Rothko's abstract paintings over looking at a picture of waffles breaking under the weight of the thousand or so toppings you have piled on them, even if said person is an art historian with three PhDs. I do not know anyone else who can make diabetes and high cholesterol and a lifetime's worth of lifestyle diseases look so beautiful. I definitely do not know anyone else who can get me free entry at that swanky club that opened last week.
Your waistline cannot handle having (or photographing) your cake and eating it too.
You fill those hours of procrastination with pictures of exotic foods and wines that I dare not try to pronounce. You give my Instagram feed a break from contouring makeup tutorials and Zayn Malik's abs. You are the next sociocultural phenomenon. Your work is the definitive art form of our generation and we love you for it.
But please stop trying to take pictures of my food.
No, I do not have any problem with your work, although I do get a bit envious when all that your work consists of is taking pictures of food, and getting more free food for it. And I did not know you were a food blogger, I thought we were here to have dinner. But that's okay. With smartphone cameras and Instagram, everyone is a food blogger. Not taking a picture of this perfectly grilled sandwich would be sacrilege, would it not?
Except that some of us like to eat. And when I say eat, I mean actually consume my dinner when it arrives piping hot at the table, not after it has been cooled by your camera's flash. And some of us like having a conversation that doesn't involve you asking us to clear the table and shift our plates so that you can get a better "angle" for your picture. Get real—it's pizza, not Gigi Hadid. Human beings are evolutionarily hardwired to find it good looking.
As much as I sound like a 90-year-old, digitally illiterate dinosaur as I say this, I miss the simpler times when we did not have the compulsion to visually document everything that may or may not pass down our food pipe. Perhaps our obsession with fitness is to blame. With waist sizes becoming smaller than the diameter of an atom, it is cooler to take pictures of your food than actually eat it. Your waistline cannot handle having (or photographing) your cake and eating it too.
Maybe we should cut you some slack. Balancing 100,000 followers on Instagram with the social life of a Kardashian, and a diet that consists of surviving on cucumber and almonds does make life difficult. People have such unrealistic expectations from us millennials, don't they?