One night, I was waiting on a table of gay men in their thirties. They were a fun group; energetic and catty, but not in a mean-spirited way. Then, sometime around their third or fourth glass of wine, it happened. I asked if they wanted to order anything else and one of them replied, “I'd love to get a piece of your chocolate meat?"
It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. Chocolate meat? Who in their right minds would serve chocolate – OOOOOHHHHH.
I was stunned. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended or both. Morgan Freeman never covered any of this on Electric Company.
That night, I'd become a culinary genre that both white men and men of color were either into or not. And it wasn't long before I learned I wasn't the only food group around.
There were beans (Latino men), rice (Asian men), sticky rice (Asian plus Asian), hummus (Middle-Eastern men), and curry (Indian men). No wonder there's an obesity epidemic. I half expect Michelle Obama to caution against dating us unless one has secured a gym membership.
Read the rest.
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