The moment they decided to stop ordering takeaways | 315: Eat Better
Foodthink Says
As an editorial team that doesn’t order takeaways, these stories resonated deeply with us. To the platforms, delivery is merely a business; but for ordinary people, it is intricately woven into the fabric of their daily lives, leading to diverse observations and nuanced feelings about the experience.
Let’s look at the moments and reasons shared by dozens of our readers. Perhaps you’ll find some of your own experiences reflected here.
Who do you think speaks for you the most? Which phrase hits closest to home? Let us know in the comments!
Today is International Consumer Rights Day. Foodthink wishes all our readers a proper meal—”eat something good”. You are also welcome to scan the QR code on the poster to join the discussion.
The stronger the corporate grind, the easier it is to rely on takeaways
@小张: Back in 2019 when I was working in Shenzhen, the canteen in the industrial park was terrible, expensive, and had endless queues. I had to order takeaways, but eating from the same few places every day honestly made me feel sick…
@面团晶晶: When work was hectic, I just wanted to do something more relaxing when I got home, or I had to bring work home with me. So, if I was eating at home in the evening, the first thing I’d do upon entering the metro was order a takeaway. That way, it would arrive exactly when I got through the door. But the moment I unzipped the delivery bag and smelled the food from the container, I’d lose my appetite. I later realised that the busier I was, the more I relied on takeaways, and the less appetite I had. So, I decided to leave the work environment that forced me to rely on deliveries. After resigning, I stopped ordering takeaways entirely!
@A worker striving to eat fewer takeaways: The last time I didn’t want a takeaway was the last time I was about to order one… it’s a feeling of helplessness and anger (the kind of rage that comes from powerlessness). The helplessness stems from being bound by long working hours; I finish at 7:30 pm and get home at 8:00 pm, making it almost impossible to cook a proper dinner. While I know changing jobs in the short term isn’t feasible, I also feel that putting too much unhealthy, monotonous food into my body every day will be a huge burden on my health in the long run.
@菊子: When I was working, I was so busy and tired that I had neither the time nor the energy to cook. Every day was either the company canteen or takeaway. Since resigning, I hardly ever order in; I make all three meals myself.
@阿赞: I used to order every week when I was employed. After leaving my job, I started cooking for myself at home. I haven’t had a takeaway in three months!
@樟一棵: Generally, when the pace of life is too fast or the pressure is too high, I tend to give up and order takeaways frequently. However, I haven’t ordered any this year.
Tasteless and unhealthy
@菊子: More than once, I’ve regretted ordering. Takeaway food is too oily and salty, and after steaming in a container for a while, the taste is mediocre. It never feels as comforting as a simple home-cooked meal.
@面团晶晶: Sometimes the vegetables have turned yellow from the steam; sometimes the food has a hint of plastic. There are good times, but mostly I think, “since I’ve bought it, I’ll have a few bites”, but then I can’t finish it and have to throw it away.
@花园果子: Too much takeaway makes my chest feel clogged, my throat uncomfortable, and my whole body feel greasy. Moreover, the quality of ready-meals is hit-or-miss: the bad ones are truly awful, the good ones make me suspect they’re loaded with additives, and the average ones are bland. Being picky about food is just a way of looking after my health.
@阿赞: The moment I open a delivery app and look at the photos, I lose all appetite. In the end, I’d rather go out and buy fresh ingredients than order a takeaway.
@蔬果鉛: Despite living in Shunde, the so-called “capital of gastronomy”, I’ve never found a takeaway that I truly loved.
@栗子: When I was at university, takeaways were just becoming popular. Once, a roommate came back and advised us not to order, as the restaurant where she worked part-time was quite unhygienic. Another time, during my postgraduate studies, a classmate mentioned seeing someone scooping oil out of a bin at the campus food court late at night.
@Ni : Sometimes after browsing through the nearby options, I find I have no interest at all. I’ve started to feel that ordering delivery is just kidding myself; it doesn’t actually satisfy a craving for good food.
@丽莎: Takeaways all taste the same. Why isn’t there any delivery food that is both healthy and delicious?
@三木森: Takeaways are too greasy, and there aren’t many good places nearby. It’s a headache trying to find something tasty and clean every day. In those moments, I just want a home-cooked meal made by my family.
@LTL: I regret it every single time I order. Even a dish that was satisfactory when eaten in the restaurant tastes much worse when delivered. I once saw Chen Xiaoqing “reveal” in an interview that he never orders takeaways. He hesitated to explain why, likely not wanting to offend the catering industry, but finally gave a reason that he probably thought was the least offensive: restaurants send the botched dishes out for delivery.
@Busy: When I’m working overtime at the office and I’m exhausted, the only takeaways available at that hour are usually chains or BBQ. The taste is questionable and they often cause stomach upset. Just thinking about it kills my appetite.
@咔咔: I order almost every week, and it’s ready-meals every day. I’m sick to death of seeing them.
Waste whether eaten, waste whether not
@林林: I often can’t finish my takeaways. Even though this waste isn’t intentional, it still leaves me feeling guilty.
@little plum: The last time I thought about ordering in, I realised my fridge was full of vegetables that would have to be thrown out if I didn’t eat them soon. I couldn’t bear to waste any more veg! Spring is here, and I really should be eating seasonal spring greens!
Expensive and poor value for money
@深木: Yesterday, while I was feeling miserable with a cold, I woke up from a nap feeling hungry. I wanted to order some sweet dessert soup to soothe my system. There’s a shop just 1.5km away where I usually walk to eat in. But when I opened Meituan and saw the prices were 3–5 yuan higher than eating in, and thought about the mountain of plastic that would come with one bowl of soup, I instantly lost the urge to order.
@K: Ordering in is more expensive than dining in. Once you add the delivery fee, it’s about 1.5 times the price, and by the time the food arrives, it’s past its prime for tasting.
@线团: Takeaways are often so expensive compared to cooking for yourself. Every time I take a bite, I have a sudden urge to stop: do I really need to spend this much money on this?
@娜娜: A year ago, I decided to lose weight, live healthier, and eat properly. Now I eat at home for breakfast and dinner, and in the canteen for lunch. I’ve calculated the cost, and whether it’s the canteen or home, it’s cheaper than takeaways and much healthier.
The ‘takeaway slump’
@林林: When I order something that tastes terrible, I feel like I’ve been scammed out of my money and my emotions. As a worker, you wait at home after a long day with such anticipation, only for it to be *this*. I could cry!
@樟一棵: At the end of 2024, my work pressure was immense. One night, I ordered a takeaway before working overtime; the more I ate, the more my stomach churned and refused to digest. I felt a mix of grievance and anger, feeling like one of the lower-class passengers in the tail section of Snowpiercer, eating protein blocks.
@青然: The last time I ordered a takeaway was two and a half months ago. After that experience, I never wanted to do it again: the rice was cold and coarse, the vegetables were cold and drenched in thick sauce. I felt like I was eating slop; it felt as though I didn’t even respect myself. I was deeply frustrated and disappointed.
@林林: In truth, ordering takeaways is just about surviving, not actually living.
@冲冲: Once, after a tiring day of overtime, I came home and ordered a takeaway. It took ages to arrive, the food wasn’t even hot, and the taste was mediocre. Looking at the pile of plastic boxes and bags, I felt a wave of guilt for creating so much non-recyclable waste. My mood wasn’t any better than before I ate; I felt no positive energy, neither physically nor mentally.
The sight of plastic packaging piled up at the door is unbearable
When I can’t resist ordering, I always select “no cutlery” and prefer vendors who use paper, glass, or other easily recyclable materials. I try to encourage those around me to do the same, but with little success.
@栗子: The last time I decided against a takeaway was when I realised the packaging was layer upon layer—the outer bag, the food containers, and even the cutlery and extra wrapping that still show up even when you’ve unticked the cutlery box. Thinking about how long it takes for that plastic to decompose… it’s just too long. I worry that the Earth is struggling to digest it all.
@蔬果鉛: I particularly lost the desire for takeaways after reading an article on the “Breaking the Plastic Bond” public account about the health risks associated with takeaway boxes.
@泡泡熊: The moment I think of the plastic boxes and the loss of *wok hei* (the breath of the wok), the urge to order disappears.
@Nathalie: Because they produce too much waste, are unhealthy, too greasy, and plastic can release harmful substances when it touches hot food.
Do takeaways save time? Not necessarily
@February: I’ve been off takeaways for a month now. Last month, the rider delivered the wrong order. By the time they tried to fix it and bring my food, the other person had already eaten it. The restaurant said it was the rider’s fault and that I’d just have to eat what I had. The rider suggested I just make do with it and offered me a free bottle of water. In the end, I paid my money and spent my time, only to end up with food I didn’t even like—otherwise, I’d have had nothing to eat at all.
@LTL: As someone with decision paralysis, I find that every time I open the app, I spend ages choosing and still can’t find anything I actually want (mostly because most of the options are either tasteless, use suspicious ingredients, or are poor value for money). I’ve realised that the time I spend scrolling through the app is enough to go downstairs for a meal or cook a quick dish at home—plus, I get a break from the screen.
Refusing to be an accomplice
@李婷婷：The reason I eventually stopped ordering takeaways was a friend of mine. She ordered on a snowy day, and when the rider arrived, his hands were covered in blood. She was horrified. She later found out that because the roads were slippery, he’d slid and crashed while turning, cutting his hand. My friend wanted to help stop the bleeding, but he said he had another order to deliver; he thanked her and left. My friend stopped ordering takeaways after that, and when I heard the story, I did too. Later, whenever I saw a delivery platform’s logo, I would instinctively visualise the bright red blood on that rider’s hand.
@LTL：I cannot accept that someone might get into an accident while rushing to bring me food just because I’m too lazy to go out, all for the sake of earning a few pounds. This view might seem hypocritical—after all, almost all consumption for modern city dwellers is built on the exploitation of others and nature. But food delivery is a concrete, one-to-one service, which makes it different from other types of consumption.
I don’t mind challenging those who might mock me: if an accident really happened, would you be at peace? What gives us the right to believe that paying a few extra pence (if we even ‘pay more’ at all) entitles us to put someone else’s life at risk? Only those who never leave their homes think delivery is a perfectly safe job.
‘Then can you take responsibility for the riders losing their jobs?’ My answer is: I spend my food budget on supporting more dignified labour. If you do the same, more dignified job opportunities will be created, rather than so many people being forced into insecure and unprotected work.
Refusing to be sucked into a pathological system of efficiency
@田女士：I’ve always felt that the way delivery riders are forced to scramble for every second is a social pathology, which is why I’ve always been averse to takeaways.
If I didn’t starve without takeaways abroad, I certainly can manage without them here
@YC：I studied in Europe for a long time. The takeaway industry there wasn’t as developed, so I got into the habit of eating in restaurants, and I’ve maintained that since returning home.
@小张：When I was studying abroad, let alone takeaways, I couldn’t even afford to eat at restaurants, so I cooked for myself every day.
@loopy：I worked in New Haven, USA, for six months in 2019. Eating out was very expensive, so I almost always cooked and brought lunch with my roommate from Hunan. I often hosted friends for Chinese food at home or went to American friends’ houses for potlucks. Hardly anyone around me ordered takeaways, so I never considered it an option. In March 2020, I returned home during the pandemic and spent two weeks in quarantine at a hotel in Zengcheng, Guangzhou. The area is famous for Gualü lychees and Simiao rice, yet I was forced to eat takeaways for 14 days straight. I never ordered another takeaway that year.
@李婷婷：When I studied abroad, I lived in the city centre, so eating was convenient. However, there was a Shanghainese restaurant I loved that was a bit far from home. Foodpanda had just started becoming popular then, so I’d often order from them when I craved that food. After a few times, I realised how expensive it actually was! You had to tip the restaurant, pay a delivery fee, and tip the rider. With tax added, two or three dishes ended up costing $70.
@LTL：While studying in New York, I’d occasionally order takeaways. Back then, delivery platforms hadn’t taken off; you’d call the restaurant directly, and they had their own staff to deliver, with tips given in cash. At the time, there was a huge debate and protests in New York because many Chinese restaurant delivery workers were paid only one dollar an hour. Even though their main income came from tips—meaning their monthly earnings were actually higher than mine as a poor student on a scholarship—the tips were still essential. I saw it as a ‘laziness tax’, a reminder to order less and save money.
After returning home to work, I went to New York on a business trip one year. Staying at a friend’s house, I wanted to show off my cooking skills but felt lazy and tried to order groceries online from Whole Foods for home delivery. I discovered that once all the service fees were added, it was actually cheaper to just go myself, so I didn’t place the order. It made me realise once again that the convenience of life in China is built on the exploitation of workers.
If you don’t order takeaways, what do you eat?
Whether it’s heading to the canteen at a set time, cooking for oneself, or meeting colleagues to eat in and take a breather, there are always more solutions than problems. Busy city dwellers have also come up with plenty of tips for eating well that are quick, easy, and affordable. What are they? We’ll reveal those in the next instalment. We also welcome our ‘hidden gems’ of readers to click ‘Read Original’ at the end of the article to continue participating in our ‘100 Moments I Didn’t Want to Eat Takeaway’ call for stories. You might just see your story in Foodthink next time!
Planning: Carrie
Editors: Yu Yang, Tianle