My husband and I decided to go for a “fancy” brunch at one of the city’s finest restaurants. Led by a renowned chef, who has an environmental conscience and included locally grown foods on her menu, who could go wrong? We were inspired by the space, the decor was impeccable and the dining experience very well represented. Our bread arrived with a side of salt, served out of an oyster shell (beautiful). Our coffees arrived with a sugar bowl, where crystals were the size of quail eggs (dreamy). Then, my meal arrived. I had decided to venture for the scrambled eggs topped with a mixture of sweet onions and chanterelle mushrooms, so I was gravely saddened when at first bite, my taste buds were assaulted with a barrage of butter, which acted like a bulldozer over already flavorful foods such as eggs and chanterelle mushrooms. I played with my food, feeling extremely ungrateful that I had not enjoyed myself more. The salt and sugar crystals glittered mockingly at me at my disappointment. I asked for a side of fruit and was told politely by our server: “Sorry, we don’t serve that.” As I looked around the space at the many diners happily gulping down their ordered delights, I felt even more outcast. Being on a journey of returning to wholesome food, I suddenly felt that my motives were so far away from what the average taste bud desires: fat, sugar, and salt, and they are willing to pay for it, literally.