The Moment They Ditched Takeaways | 315: Eat Better
Foodthink says
As an editorial team that eschews delivery food altogether, these reflections struck a deep chord with us. To the platforms, food delivery is merely a commercial venture; yet for everyday people, it is inextricably woven into the fabric of their daily lives, giving rise to a rich tapestry of observations and nuanced feelings about the service.
Below, we’ve gathered the moments and reasons shared by these dozens of readers on why they’ve decided to turn their backs on takeout. Perhaps you’ll find something that resonates with your own experience.
Which reader sounds most like they’re speaking on your behalf? Which line resonates with you the most? Do leave us a comment below.
Today is 15 March, International Consumer Rights Day (315). Foodthink also wishes you all proper meals and encourages you to “eat something good”. We’d also love for you to scan the QR code on the poster below to join the conversation.
The deeper you sink into the office grind, the more you rely on takeout
@Xiao Zhang: I was working in Shenzhen back in 2019. The industrial park canteen was awful, overpriced, and had endless queues, so I had no choice but to order delivery. But eating from just those same few places every day was enough to make me sick…
@Dough Jingjing: When work gets hectic, I just want to do something more relaxing when I get home, or I might even need to take work back with me. So if I’m planning to eat at home in the evening, the first thing I do when I get on the metro is order takeaway. That way, it arrives just as I walk through the door. But the moment I untie the delivery bag, open the container, and catch that familiar smell, I suddenly lose the appetite. Eventually, I realised the busier I got, the more I ordered delivery, and the less I actually wanted to eat. So I decided to leave the work environment that forced me to rely on takeaway constantly. After resigning, I haven’t ordered a single meal out since!
@Worker trying to cut back on takeaway weekly: The last time I didn’t want to order takeaway was literally the last time I was about to place an order… It’s a mix of helplessness and frustration (that kind of powerless, simmering anger). The helplessness comes from being tethered to these long working hours. I don’t finish work until 7.30 pm, get home at 8, and it’s practically impossible to cook and have dinner. On one hand, I know changing jobs in the short term isn’t realistic; on the other, I’m acutely aware that pumping my body full of unhealthy, monotonous food every day takes a heavy toll over time.
@Ju Zi: When I was working, I was just too busy and exhausted to find the time or energy to cook. Every day it was either the company canteen or takeaway. Since resigning, I hardly ever order delivery anymore—I cook all my own meals.
@A Zan: I used to eat takeaway every week while I was employed, but after I left and started cooking for myself at home, I’ve now gone three months without ordering a single delivery!
@Zhang Yi Ke: Generally speaking, when life moves too fast or the stress levels get too high, I tend to give in and order takeaway constantly. But I haven’t placed a single order since the start of this year.
Neither appetising nor healthy
@Juzi: I’ve had second thoughts about ordering takeaway more times than I can count. The food is invariably heavy on oil and salt. Once it’s been sitting in the plastic tub for a while, steaming in its own juices, the flavour is pretty lacklustre. Besides, it never leaves me feeling as good as a simple home-cooked meal.
@Miantuan Jingjing: Sometimes the food has gone off and turned yellow from sitting too long; other times it carries a distinct plastic taste. Occasionally it’s decent, but most days I tell myself I’ll just pick at it since I’ve already paid. Yet I can’t bring myself to finish it, and it always ends up in the bin.
@Huayuan Guozi: Relying on takeaway leaves me feeling weighed down, with a scratchy throat and a greasy, sluggish sensation throughout my body. On top of that, the quality of pre-prepared meals is incredibly inconsistent: the bad ones are genuinely unpleasant, the good ones make you wonder how much seasoning they’ve packed in, and the average ones are utterly bland. I realise I’m being particular about what I eat, but I owe it to my health.
@A Zan: The moment I open a delivery app and scroll through the menus, any appetite I had disappears. I’ve reached the point where I’d rather nip out and buy groceries myself than order in.
@Shuoguo Qian: Despite living in Shunde, widely regarded as a culinary capital, I’ve never once come across a takeaway dish I was genuinely fond of.
@Lizi: When I was an undergrad, food delivery was only just getting off the ground. One time, a flatmate came back and bluntly advised us against ordering in, as the restaurant where she worked part-time was notoriously unhygienic. Later, during my postgrad studies, a friend told me about spotting someone late one night collecting cooking oil from a bin at the campus food court.
@Ni: Sometimes I’ll scroll through every restaurant nearby and end up with zero appetite. I’ve come to realise that ordering in is just a way of cutting corners with myself; it never actually satisfies a genuine craving for something properly cooked.
@Lisha: After a while, takeaway all starts to taste exactly the same. Why is there never any that’s both wholesome and actually good?
@Sanmusen: The takeaway options are invariably too greasy, and there aren’t many decent places nearby. I’m always dreading the daily hunt for something that’s both tasty and clean. Moments like this make me yearn for nothing more than simple home cooking, just like my family used to make.
@LTL: I regret it every single time I order in. Even dishes I’ve happily eaten in the restaurant taste noticeably worse once they arrive at my door. I once caught an interview where food critic Chen Xiaoqing “revealed” he never orders takeaway. He initially stayed tight-lipped about why, presumably to avoid alienating the industry, but eventually offered what he likely thought was the least offensive explanation: restaurants often reserve their botched dishes for delivery orders.
@Busy: When I’m working late at the office and already completely drained, I think about what’s actually available to order at that hour. It’s invariably a chain joint or a BBQ place. The quality is far from impressive, and it frequently leaves me with a stomachache. Just the thought of it kills my appetite.
@Kaka: I’ve been ordering takeaway almost every week. It’s the same pre-prepared meals day in, day out. I’ve grown tired of even seeing them.
A Waste Whether You Eat It or Not
@Linlin: I often can’t finish my delivery orders. Even though this waste isn’t intentional on my part, it still leaves me feeling guilty.
@little plum: The last time I went to order delivery, I realised I’d already bought loads of vegetables for the fridge that would go off if I didn’t eat them. I’m fed up of tossing out veg! Now that spring has arrived, I really should be eating seasonal spring greens.
Expensive and Poor Value for Money
@Shen Mu: I was nursing a cold yesterday and woke up from an afternoon nap feeling hungry. I fancied ordering some dessert soup to cool down. The shop is just 1.5 kilometres away, and I’d normally just walk over. I opened Meituan and saw the prices were clearly 3 to 5 yuan higher than dining in. Then I pictured the sheer amount of plastic packaging that would come with a single bowl, and the urge to order vanished instantly.
@K: Takeaways cost more than dining in. Once you add the delivery fee, the price jumps to 1.5 times the in-store cost, and the journey means the food arrives past its prime.
@Xiantuan: Takeaways are often genuinely expensive compared to cooking at home. The moment I take a bite, I’m struck by a sudden thought: do I really need to spend money on this?
@Nana: I decided a year ago to lose weight, live healthily, and eat proper meals. Now I eat at home for breakfast and dinner, and use the canteen at lunch. I’ve done the sums on the costs, and whether it’s the canteen or cooking at home, it’s cheaper than takeaways—and far healthier.
The post-takeaway blues
@LinLin: Getting a terrible takeaway makes me feel as though I’ve been cheated out of my money and my goodwill. I come home from work, eagerly anticipating my meal, only to be met with this. It brings me to tears!
@ZhangYiKe: Towards the end of 2024, I was under immense work pressure. One evening, I ordered a takeaway before starting overtime. The more I ate, the worse my stomach felt, bringing on indigestion. I felt utterly wronged and furious, as though I were among the underclass in the rear carriage of Snowpiercer, forced to subsist on protein blocks.
@QingRan: It’s been two and a half months since I last ordered a takeaway. After that experience, I never want to do it again: the rice was cold and coarse, the vegetables were cold, and everything was drowned in thick sauce. It felt like I was eating swill. I felt a profound lack of self-respect, leaving me deeply disheartened and disappointed.
@LinLin: In reality, ordering takeaways is merely about surviving, not truly living.
@ChongChong: One time, I came home exhausted after working late. I ordered a takeaway and waited an age for it to arrive. The food wasn’t particularly warm, and the taste was forgettable. Then, staring at a pile of plastic containers and bags, I felt a wave of guilt over the unnecessary waste. My mood barely lifted after eating, and I felt completely drained rather than refreshed, both physically and mentally.
The plastic packaging piled at the doorstep is a sight that’s hard to bear
When I can’t resist ordering in, I always tick the ‘no cutlery’ box and tend to favour places that use paper, glass, or other easily recyclable materials. I’ve tried to encourage everyone around me to do the same, but it hasn’t made much of a difference.
@栗子：The last time I completely lost my appetite for takeaways was when I noticed just how heavily they’re wrapped – layers upon layers, including the carrier bag, the food container, and even the cutlery and extra packaging that still turn up despite selecting ‘no cutlery needed’. When I think about how incredibly long it will take for all that plastic to decompose, it genuinely worries me. It feels like the Earth is struggling to cope with it all.
@蔬果鉛：I really lost the will to order takeaways after reading a post on the ‘Plastic-Free’ WeChat account that highlighted the health hazards of takeaway packaging.
@泡泡熊：The moment I think about the takeaway containers and the loss of that fresh, smoky aroma from the wok, any desire to order in disappears.
@Nathalie：It creates far too much waste. It’s unhealthy, overly greasy, and plastic tends to leach harmful chemicals when it comes into contact with hot food.
Does food delivery save time? Not necessarily
@Er Yue: I’ve been off takeaway for a month now. Last month, my rider delivered the wrong order to me. By the time they went to drop off the food that was meant for me, the intended recipient had already eaten theirs. The restaurant said it was the rider’s fault, leaving me stuck with the wrong meal. The rider suggested I just make do with it and offered to bring a bottle of water. Ultimately, I’d spent my money and my time, only to be left with a meal I didn’t fancy, or face going hungry.
@LTL: As someone prone to indecision, I’ve noticed that every time I open the app, I end up scrolling for ages without finding anything I actually fancy (largely because most options are either unappetising, look like they’re made with questionable ingredients, or are terrible value). I’ve realised that the time spent scrolling on my phone would be enough to head downstairs for a bite or whip up a quick meal in the kitchen. On top of that, it gives me a break from staring at a screen.
Not wanting to be complicit
@LiTingting: What finally pushed me to stop ordering takeaways was a friend’s experience. She placed an order during a heavy snowfall, and when it arrived, the rider’s hands were soaked in blood. She was horrified. Only later did she learn that the roads were treacherous, the rider had slipped and fallen while making a turn, and sliced his hand. My friend offered to help staunch the bleeding, but he said he had another delivery to make, thanked her, and rushed off. My friend never ordered takeaways again. Hearing that, I stopped too. Now, every time I see a food delivery platform’s logo, I’m instantly reminded of that rider’s hands, bright red with blood.
@LTL: I simply cannot justify someone risking a road accident just because I’m too lazy to leave the house, all for a few pounds. I suppose this stance might come across as slightly hypocritical; after all, virtually every purchase we make in the modern city rests on the exploitation of others and the environment. Yet takeaway delivery is a tangible, direct service, which sets it apart from other forms of consumption.
I don’t mind ruffling feathers or facing mockery: if that accident actually happened, would you rest easy at night? On what grounds do we assume that paying a few extra pounds (or indeed, not even that) entitles us to put someone else’s life at risk? It’s only those who never venture outdoors who could possibly believe delivering food is a perfectly safe line of work.
“But can you bear the responsibility for putting that rider out of a job?” My answer is this: my spending on food should support labour that treats people with dignity. If more of us did the same, it would create demand for more dignified jobs, rather than forcing so many into roles that are both hazardous and insecure.
Refusing to be swept up by a toxic system obsessed with efficiency
@田女士: I’ve always felt that the way delivery riders are forced to constantly race against the clock is a symptom of a sick society, which is why I’ve always been resistant to using food delivery services.
If we survived abroad without ordering takeaway, we can certainly manage back home
@YC: I spent a long time studying in Europe, where the food delivery industry wasn’t well developed. This naturally led me to develop a habit of eating at restaurants, which I’ve maintained ever since returning to China.
@小张: Back when I was studying abroad, I couldn’t even afford proper sit-down restaurants, let alone delivery. I ended up cooking for myself every single day.
@loopy: I worked in New Haven, USA, for half a year in 2019. Eating out was very expensive, so I almost cooked daily with my roommate from Hunan and packed lunch. I also often hosted friends at home for Chinese meals or joined American friends for potluck dinners. Nobody around me was ordering takeaway then, so it never even crossed my mind. I returned to China in March 2020 during the pandemic and had to quarantine for two weeks at a hotel in Zengcheng, Guangzhou. This region is famous for Guangulü lychees and Simiao rice, yet I survived on delivery food for 14 straight days. Since that year, I haven’t ordered a single takeaway.
@李婷婷: While studying abroad, I lived in the city centre, so getting food was quite convenient. However, there was a Shanghai restaurant I really loved that was a bit of a trek from home. At the time, Foodpanda was just gaining traction, so whenever I craved that Shanghai fare, I’d order it delivered. After a few orders, I was shocked by how expensive it actually was! You had to tip the restaurant, pay a delivery fee, tip the rider on top of that, and add taxes. In the end, two or three dishes would run you $70.
@LTL: While studying in New York, I occasionally ordered takeaway back when the delivery apps hadn’t taken off yet. You’d call the restaurant directly, and they had dedicated drivers who would bring the food to your door, with tipping handled separately. At the time, New York was in the midst of a major public debate and protests because many Chinese restaurant delivery drivers were only paid a dollar an hour. Even though their main income actually came from tips, and their monthly earnings were higher than mine as a scholarship-dependent student, you still couldn’t skimp on the tip. I treated it as a kind of “tax on laziness,” which also subtly reminded me to cut back on delivery to save money.
After returning to China to work, I went on a business trip to New York one year. Staying at a friend’s place, I wanted to show off my cooking skills but was too lazy to shop, so I tried to order groceries online from Whole Foods for delivery. Once I saw all the service fees added on, I realised it was cheaper and easier to just make the trip myself, so I didn’t place the order. It struck me once again: the convenience of daily life in China is built on the exploitation of workers.
If we’re not ordering takeaway, what do we eat?
Whether it’s timing your trips to the staff canteen, cooking for yourself, or meeting colleagues for a sit-down meal to take a proper break, there’s always a solution. Busy city dwellers have also shared plenty of quick, cost-effective, and hassle-free tips for eating properly. What are they exactly? We’ll break them down next time. We’d also welcome our brilliantly insightful readers to click “Continue reading” at the end of this post to keep submitting entries for our “100 moments when you decided to skip takeout” campaign. Who knows? You might just read your own story in Foodthink next time!
Concept & Planning: Kairui
Editing: Yuyang, Tianle