Steel-cut oatmeal. Applewood smoked bacon. Cold-pressed juice. Fair-trade coffee. Responsibly-sourced tea. Farm fresh eggs. Hand-crafted burgers.
The surest sign you're living in the Land of First World Problems is your food comes with a side of adjectives. If you're just having oatmeal, bacon, coffee, eggs, and juice for breakfast you're a fucking plebeian serf.
The more adjectives associated with your food nouns, the better and fancier and more delicious they are. I mean, don't you HATE when you order oatmeal at a restaurant and it's not STEEL-CUT?
I do! That's why I had to Google "steel cut oatmeal" just now. I actually had no idea what either steel-cut oatmeal or applewood smoked bacon was until I tasted the far inferior rust-cut oatmeal and plywood-smoked bacon.
Things only got worse after I ordered some hot-pressed juice, sweat shop coffee, and a burger that someone simply "made" rather than "crafted."
A craft used to be like, a lanyard keychain or that God's Eye thing you'd make with yarn and two Popsicle sticks. Now it's a fucking double-bacon cheeseburger.
I know people think the taste of their food improves in direct proportion to the number of adjectives that describe it, and why wouldn't they? Everyone knows that extra virgin olive oil is better than cheap dirty slut olive oil. Cook with that shit, and you might as well go sell blow jobs in the men's room of the Port Authority.