‘Gosh, those rice cakes I ate earlier were so nice. I’m satisfied and emotionally stabilised for a productive afternoon.’ Said no woman ever.
It’s the Great Australian Rice Cake Hoax. We think we’re making a good healthy choice. Rice cakes are bullshit, and we fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. Except rice cakes don’t sink, they float forever and ever like waxed cardboard cockroaches destined to outlive us all.
First of all, they look like something you find stuck to the inside of a birdcage with a peg. They taste like compressed packing noodles and they sure as hell aren’t nourishing, since there are literally no nutrients in there. Plus, they have a criminally high GI, which means you feel Hulk-level hangry within minutes of consuming them. Yet every day, women are diligently serving themselves three anaemic wafers on a plate, adding a little scrape of avocado, one sad slice of tomato topped with dry-as-bones tuna and calling the whole charade ‘lunch’.
They are a dieting ruse from the long-gone 90s, and completely ineffective at vital modern tasks, like ‘tasting alright’ and ‘being digestively useful’. You may as well open up a beanbag, another 90s relic, scoop out a handful of polystyrene pearls, and eat those. It’s the same.
If it does not taste good, look good or feel good, and has ZERO nutrient points….why the hell are we doing this to ourselves? You know why. It’s because we’ve all had this deluded thought: ‘Righto, rice cakes and green tea all week and I should be Miranda Kerr by Saturday’. Let’s be real, we buy them because we think that by eating them we’ll catch a supernatural case of the skinnies. How whacked is our thinking that we’ll prioritise a starvation high over less ‘important’ stuff like having a poo sometime this week. Because if you eat these regularly instead of actual food, there will be no poo. No poo for you.
Rice cakes are the enemy, and the clues are right in front of us. Take the packaging description: ‘Light, crunchy and delicious – rice cakes are a natural, delicious crispbread!’ You said delicious twice there, marketing. Bit defensive are we? How they can even get away with retaining ‘cake’ in the name is beyond me. We know what fucking cake is, liars. That’s like saying microwaved Lean Cuisine is kinda like going to Chin Chin. A dangerously loose misrepresentation of gastronomy.
They’re sold as ‘the perfect guilt-free lunch or quick snack’. Funny, I don’t think blokes are getting shamed into subsisting on three bits of cardboard brushed delicately with vegemite. Men need fuel and energy, whereas women are meant to send their bodies into Survivor-mode with low-cal space snacks. Good girl treats, lucky us!
This is what happens to our bodies at 1pm:
Tummy: I’m running on fumes here. Brain, sort it out!
Brain: Definitely. Coming right up, buddy. We’re making a good choice today.
Rice cakes: Here I am! Ta-da!
Tummy: What is this? A box? The fuck am I supposed to do with this?
Brain: We’ve all gotta make sacrifices around here.
Tummy: But you’re giving me foam. You know I can’t work with foam!
Brian: Quiet you. It’s good for us.
Tummy begrudgingly digests faux food. Brain gets back to work on those important docu-
Brain: You again.
Tummy: Yes, me again. Don’t mean to be a pain, but that food I mentioned earlier? Didn’t get it.
Brain: * sigh.* Helloooooo co-workers open packet of Allen’s snakes.
Tummy: YES. Let’s do this.
The madness stops here. Our grandmas would not be cool with us living on rabbit rations and I guarantee you Michelle Bridges is not eating this evil chewy garbage. A girl’s gotta eat, and you know what’s surprisingly great? Actual rice. A big bowl of hot fluffy rice. Real food satisfies us on every level. Hunger? Gone. Productivity? Strong. Mood? Sassy. I know we’re all terrified of bread but just HAVE A BLOODY SANDWICH.
Rice cakes are bullshit. Chuck ‘em out and never look back. Together, we can make our lunches loveable again.
Admit it, are you a rice cake for lunch girl?