Small Bite 001: Are We Over-Caviar'ing?

A small rumination on fish eggs and Michael B. Jordan.

Editor’s Note: Welcome to Small Bites. What I’m not entirely sure what Small Bites will entail, it will begin as a place to ruminate on something that may not be fully-fledged out and/or something that doesn’t command a full 1,000 words dedicated to it. A place to inspire some conversation in the comments. Will it remain that? Perhaps. Could the name change at any given moment? Again, that’s a possibility.

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You haven’t seen the face of a shattered man like that of Michael B. Jordan in the wake of his break-up with Lori Harvey in June of last year. While sitting courtside just days later, his face looked like that of a man who drank four double-IPAs on a weeknight only to be forced to mask it at an early all-hands-on-deck team meeting.

Naturally, I had to see what all the Lori Harvey fuss was about. The daughter of Steve Harvey, there are some telltale signs as to why he may be visibly upset. Like, I get it from the eye test, Michael.

But as I dove deeper, I began to understand the fabric that is Lori Harvey. She’s bougie — like a hungover Sunday after payday where nothing will cure you except a bougie brunch and a splash purchase you’ll return on your Wednesday lunch break. She’s so bougie, in fact, that a recent hard post from her made me question something that’s been lingering in my mind for far too long: Are we over-caviar’ing?

Here’s the post in question:

I don’t care if you have Niles Crane-level cravings for caviar — can we simply admit that this is a little fucking ridiculous? Like that’s an entire tin of $150/ounce Russian Ossetra we’re looking at. And as someone who can barely stomach the richness of one small bump of caviar himself, I can’t fathom a scenario where my eyes light up when something like this is sat in front of me.

Every season there appears to be an Instagram darling. Usually it’s a cocktail — your Aperol Spritzes and your espresso martinis. But as far as food flexes go, oysters and caviar have really taken the influencer cake lately. I truly don’t know how former Bachelor contestants are funding this with their Revolve sponsorships.

Even last year on Retail Therapy we discussed the absurdity of the caviar bump trend.

In an effort to get ahead of a possible narrative here, no, I’ve probably never had good enough caviar to know what good caviar tastes like. It’s simply not in the rotation (read: budget) at this point so my only exposure to the caviar life is when they unnecessarily add it to dishes at high-end restaurants and when I watch that scene from You’ve Got Mail.

Is it a crime for me to crave a baked potato with sour cream, butter, and chives rather than a fist-full of sturgeon eggs? The obvious answer is “no,” but if you order that in front of Lori Harvey on a third date you may end up crawling out the bathroom window to avoid paying the bill.

Is my palate trash? Am I raining on someone’s parade because I simply can’t afford to do it myself? Have my bougie-ness levels peaked now that I’m old enough to understand that no amount of money is worth a good Instagram story?

Don’t answers those questions. I don’t want to like Michael B. Jordan at a Laker game.

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