If you note the American tradition of taking leftovers home from restaurants in the same breath as you express shock and horror at our portion sizes, you have forfeited the right to get all, “This is why you’re fat, dummies” about the portions.

People who have never eaten out in the U.S. can perhaps be forgiven for assuming that, in addition to plates the size of manhole covers, American restaurants typically have employees whose sole job is to hover over diners, demanding that they finish their food before they’re permitted to leave. But if you are familiar with the concept of a “doggy bag,” then the only excuse for assuming that restaurant portion sizes are directly correlated with American ignorance and/or gluttony is pretty much that you enjoy thinking of Americans as ignorant gluttons.

And I mean, sure, a lot of us are. Some of us, all of the time; probably all of us, some of the time.

But we are also a people who really fucking like our leftovers.

Signed,
A genuine, bona fide obese American who can eat with the best of ‘em, and still often makes multiple meals out of a single restaurant order