Who needs central heating when you've got Himalayan pink salt?
Your inner critic can never be silenced
Unless she's head chef at a Michelin-star restaurant, now you've reached the dizzy heights of food snobbery your mum’s home-cooked meals don't taste like they used to. You’ve seen a tiny bit of her love for you die as you criticise her lovingly-prepared shepherd's pie for being underseasoned.
Dinner party invitations start to dry up after that time you offered “helpful” advice on how to “properly” roast a chicken. OK yes, you used the words “bland” and “uninspiring” but really you were only trying to help.
You aren’t the easiest date, either
When you're eating out you find it hard to concentrate on pretty much anything but the food. Thus, for single food snobs a date in a romantic restaurant can be a double-edged sword. As soon as that menu's in your hand, you're in the zone. Why waste time with what type of music you like or where you grew up when there’s analytical discussion about the starters to be had?
Your date has been known to stare blankly at the ceiling as you passionately discuss with the waiter the pros and cons of cooking with ghee.
You’re a unstoppable hoarder
If you’ve ever heard your loved one cry out in fury as a bottle of internet-sourced speciality mirin lands on their head, you’ll know too well the consequences of an overstocked cupboard. You wouldn’t dream of dressing a salad with anything less than 25-year-aged aceto balsamico and Mexican food wouldn’t be Mexican without liquid smoke. Of course you need two types of salt. If anyone's criticising, you’ll happily have the fleur de sel v pink Himalayan debate with them.
Petrol stations are your armageddon
You have mostly been able to fill your life with taste sensations, but every now and then you’ll be faced with an inescapable foodie nightmare. There's nothing quite like the horror of an egg and cress sandwich meal deal at a motorway service station to send you into a deep, depression.
You’re a disgusting bragger
Whether you’re Instagramming your latest Michelin-starred meal or boring your friends with tales of the some Mongolian BBQ trendsetter, you're a big fat show-off.
"Yah sure," you say, "I've tried that Bulgarian burrito truck that has been converted from an intercontinental ballistic missile carrier. I tried it six months ago. Although I preferred it before they got too mainstream.”
You'll go to any lengths to be ahead of the food game and you're prepared to queue. Yes, that trendy burger made of mulched witchetty grubs made you retch, but at least you ate it first.
The food world is everything to you
Your Sky box is full of back-to-back cooking shows. If you’re not hanging out in Whittingstall’s garden, you’re spending date night in with Nigella and a chocolate fondant. The MasterChef application form is your nightly bedtime reading.
All your wages are in your stomach
Your noble quest for the best has taken you and your nervous credit card into every continental deli this side of Timbuktu. You’re such a regular at the artisan butcher's your air-dried bacon comes with a free copy of the pig’s autobiography. Who needs central heating when you’ve got alba truffles and lobster thermidor to keep you warm?