Food discussion leaves me feeling empty

Has food always been this significant a topic of conversation?

It doesn't seem like it to me, but I may be ignorant (don't reply to that!).

In a nation where we have multiple 24-hour food TV channels and more styles of food than clothing, nearly every group conversation gets around to food.

The best restaurants. The best ingredients. Opinions about ingredients. How to follow specific diets.

It doesn't bother me, it just confuses me – because I don't remember this from most of my life. I also have nothing to contribute to the conversation.

Take a recent gathering of Mrs. Brad's extended family. We were discussing something interesting (sports? music?) when suddenly the conversation switched to food. People talked about items in a salad and what flavors they liked.

I didn't understand any of it. I know chef salad and green salad. Oh, taco salad.

Someone mentioned capers, which I presumed was some sort of seafood (it turns out to be some sort of seasoning).

Everyone at the table had opinions and knew what was being discussed. Except me. It was like waking up to a discussion being held in Russian.

The same thing happened a few days earlier with work friends. They started talking about styles of food that were mysteries to me. Not only did everyone else know about the food, they all knew restaurants where that type of food was served, whether it was done well and whether they liked it.

They might as well have been talking about the foreign policy of 16th century Poland. I didn't know anything.

Here's what I thought: "So this is what it's like when I talk about sports around people who don't know it. They aren't offended, they just can't contribute."

So to reiterate, is this something new?

My knee-jerk response is yes. This is the next step in a progression that went off the ledge when people started identifying themselves as "foodies." As if the fact that they liked food made them different than those of us who like pizza, corn dogs and toasted cheese sandwiches.

Aren't we all foodies, since we need food to . . . you know . . . live? In my darkest moments, I've told Mrs. Brad, “When people say they're a 'foodie,' do they really just mean 'glutton?’ ” But that's my darkest moment and I regret saying that. Sometimes.

I also must consider another possibility: That people have always had this knowledge about and this level of desire for discussion about food. Maybe people have always opined on which restaurants are good and which are bad. Perhaps people have always considered trends in food and shared thoughts on ingredients.

Maybe I'm just out of the loop.

An indication came several years ago when I was the associate editor at the Daily Republic. We had "story conferences" every day to decide what should go on the front page. During this period, a huge amount of scallions were recalled due to some sort of poisoning. It was important news for several days in a row.

I presumed scallions were some sort of fish.

Turns out, scallions are those little green onions. Everyone else knew.

Therefore, I return to my initial question: Have people always talked about food like they do now?

Regardless of the answer, I'm an outsider in the discussions.

At least now I know capers and scallions. Which is all I can contribute to the discussion: "Well . . . my favorite onions are scallions!"

Then I'll go back to resenting people who call themselves "foodies."

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.