Such cheap foodstuffs as rice, potatoes, and pasta lend themselves to being consumed in quantity and shared with the entire family, even the community. It’s prosperity that brings the arrogance of small portions. As incomes rise, grease and starch disappear, replaced by fatless protein, a few spoonfuls of green vegetables, a delicately sculpted potato—food prepared with an eye more to appearance than gratification.” — John Baxter, Five Nights in Paris

Americans have no problem with small portions. We fill our plates to overflowing. This is a visual indicator that we’re getting value for our money. Burgers need toothpicks to stay together from the kitchen to the table, french fries and pasta spill over the edge of the plate. The plate inspires a wow and maybe a little envy from those who ordered something else.

Naturally, there are implications to all this food. Those of us trained from an early age to finish everything on the plate have a tax of weight gain and calorie-burning activity to contend with. We train ourselves to order the salad, which itself is often a heaping mass of intrigue. Choosing to eat out less and make our own meals is naturally a healthier way to eat. The trade-off then becomes increased isolation. Breaking bread together creates bonds. So too does pickle ball, I hear.

Baxter’s comment about the arrogance of small portions is directed towards the fancy restaurants serving microscopic portions that look amazing but don’t satiate. It’s a great line that draws one’s attention. I wish I’d written it myself. But I see both sides of the plate (if you will). People pay for experience, not for a full belly. It’s akin to going to the museum to view fine art instead of going to the ballgame. Is it arrogant to go to one or the other? Both have their place in an enriching life, in proper portions. The arrogance comes in judging what someone else is doing because it’s not what we would do ourselves.

The great observation Baxter makes isn’t about arrogance, it’s about using cheaper food, like rice, pasta and potatoes, as the foundation of building community. We don’t have to be wealthy to come together, we just have to be inclined to do so. The wealthy are some of the loneliest people on the planet because they shelter in place in their gated “communities” or McMansions. The real wealth in a full life is in connection. So please pass the pasta.