In it We eat There is the following phrase as the headline of the interview with chef Heston Blumenthal"If we're not careful, Ozempic will ruin the restaurant industry." That phrase sticks with me. Ozempic is this diabetic drug that "makes you lose weight." It makes you lose weight because it apparently makes you lose your appetite. Everyone around me is taking it and saying they've lost weight. "It makes you lose your appetite, you're fed up," they tell you. I'm one of those who, when they have to go on a diet, opt for the traditional method of alternating videos of enlightened people meditating and purifying themselves with videos of slaughterhouses and hamburger factories. I join the sect of those who hate processed foods and merge with the cosmos every day from seven to nine. Convinced, I do the trick.
My friends who take Ozempic go to restaurants, they love wine and good food, so maybe Blumenthal, who knows them because he'll see them at his house, is right. They won't go. But they won't go because they'll be incapable of choosing a—and pardon the word—healthy option. They cook at home, but for special occasions. Cooking for everyday life can be more boring for them. Making a vegetable for dinner isn't for them, and a salad is just a side dish to leave on the hamburger plate. I don't know what kind of hunger this medication makes you lose. Our appetite, usually, is fake. I always tell myself that if I don't really, really, really want an apple, if I do, say, crave patatas bravas, it's not hunger. It's desire. I know that when they stop the medication, their willpower and sanity will have completely disappeared, and then their hunger will eat them up.
