“IF YOU EAT FOOD, you are being lied to every day.

The food supply chain is so vast and so complicated. It has yielded extra-virgin olive oil that is actually colored sunflower oil, Parmesan cheese bulked up with wood pulp, and a horsemeat scandal that, for a while, rendered Ikea outings Swedish meatball-free.

Everywhere you look, you see the claims: “sustainable,” “naturally raised,” “organic,” “non-GMO,” “fair trade,” “responsibly grown.” Restaurants have reached new levels of hyperbole.

What makes buying food different from other forms of commerce is this: It’s a trust-based system. How do you know the Dover sole on your plate is Dover sole? Only that the restaurateur said so.”

Laura Reiley’s exhaustive exposé on Tampa Bay’s farm-to-table movement will make you regard even the most sincere restaurant chalkboard with a healthy suspicion.

“You might be getting married. You might have bought a new car. You might have won a Pulitzer. But there’s a whole bunch of Tupperware sitting in my fridge, bitches. Try topping that.”

Mallory Schlossberg writes powerfully​ about putting baby carrots into bags.

“Earlier I said these mozzarella sticks taste like garbage. I would like to amend that statement. They taste worse than garbage. I would prefer to eat garbage, because then there would be the chance I would get to eat a bite of something good someone started to eat but couldn’t finish, or paper.

The water outside TGI Friday’s is black now.”

Caity Weaver’s 6,000 word account of a day spent at TGI Friday’s is an effort in clickbait worthy of Dickens.