
Some dishes get hyped so much, you’d think it was a crime not to like them. They’re on every menu, featured in every food blog, and always seem to get a chorus of praise online. But when you sit down and take a bite, something feels off. You don’t love it. Maybe you never did. Here are 15 foods people pretend to enjoy just because everyone else does.
Truffle oil on everything.

What started as a gourmet touch has become a tired trend. Truffle oil is rarely made with real truffles, and it shows. The smell is overpowering, almost artificial, and once it’s on your fries or pasta, it takes over. You can’t taste anything else. It clings to your mouth and lingers long after the meal ends. Most folks pretend it’s fancy when they’d really prefer just salt and pepper.
Matcha desserts.

There’s a difference between appreciating matcha’s earthiness and pretending matcha ice cream is actually delicious. A little matcha in a latte? Fine. But when it sneaks into cookies or cakes, it turns dessert into a bitter, grassy experience. It’s the kind of flavor that Instagram loves—but your tastebuds don’t. Most people choke down a matcha brownie to seemcultured, not because they actually enjoy it.
Raw oysters.

There’s something about oysters that makes people lie to themselves. They look fancy, they’re served on ice, and everyone acts like it’s a rite of passage. But the truth? They’re slippery, briny, and vaguely unsettling. You toss them back more out of pressure than pleasure. Most people load them with sauce, lemon, and hot sauce just to cover the taste—or lack thereof.
Overdecorated cupcakes.

They look like tiny edible sculptures, but most of them aren’t worth the sugar crash. That beautiful swirl of frosting is usually dry, overly sweet, and stiff enough to stand on its own. Underneath is a bland cupcake trying to keep up. It’s dessert that looks better than it tastes, and most of us are too polite to admit we tossed half in the trash.
Kale in everything.

Yes, it’s healthy. No, it’s not tasty. Kale is coarse, bitter, and requires massaging, steaming, or drowning in dressing to be chewable. But for a while, it was everywhere—smoothies, chips, even breakfast bowls. People act like it’s great, but it’s the kind of vegetable you eat out of guilt, not joy. And deep down, most folks miss the days of good old spinach or romaine.
Gold leaf-covered anything.

It glitters, sure—but it adds nothing else. No taste. No texture. Just flakes of edible gold there to scream “look at me.” Whether it’s on a donut, a burger, or a cocktail, it turns food into a status symbol. Everyone acts impressed, but insidethey’re wondering why they just paid $40 for something that tastes exactly the same without it. It’s culinary cosplay, not cuisine.
Pumpkin spice everything.

That first latte might be cozy, but by week two of fall, it’s exhausting. Pumpkin spice has infected everything—cookies, beer, protein bars, even dog treats. And it’s not even pumpkin. It’s a mix of cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg designed to tap into nostalgia. After the fourth item in a row, the charm wears off. But we still post it with a smile because, well… it’s seasonal.
Smoothie bowls.

They’re pretty, colorful, and loaded with fruit—but also completely impractical. The toppings sink, the base melts fast, and by the end, you’re eating sweet soup with a spoon. It’s the kind of breakfast that sounds healthy but leaves you hungry an hour later. Most people like the way it looks, not how it feels to eat. Especially when you’re scraping up mushy granola at the bottom.
Avocado toast.

It had its moment, and we all bought in. But once the novelty wore off, you were left with overpriced toast that’s hard to cut and under-seasoned spread that needs lemon, salt, and chili just to taste like something. It’s not bad—it’s just not the revelation it’s made out to be. At its core, it’s mashed avocado on bread, sold with a side of hype.
Charcoal-infused foods.

Black lemonade. Goth ice cream. Jet-black pizza crust. Charcoal in food looks edgy—but usually tastes like you’re chewing on ash. It adds no flavor, no nutrition, and sometimes even interferes with medication absorption. It’s a novelty that got way too popular. People try it once, post it online, and quietly wonder why anyone would go back for a second bite. But no one wants to look uncool.
Tuna tartare.

It sounds elegant and looks clean on a plate, but it’s not for everyone. Cold, raw tuna chopped into bits and mixed with avocado or soy doesn’t exactly scream “comfort food.” Most people order it on a date or at a trendy restaurant, not because they love it—but because it sounds impressive. Truth is, it’s more show than substance, and it’s rarely satisfying.
Lobster rolls.

The idea of lobster rolls is better than the reality. You get a tiny handful of lobster meat—either drowned in mayo or butter—shoved into a roll that falls apart the minute you pick it up. It’s messy, pricey, and almost always underwhelming. People rave about them because they’re a luxury. But if you’re honest, they’re not nearly as good as a simple shrimp po’ boy.
Acai bowls.

They’re marketed as superfood miracles, but what you get is a sugary frozen smoothie topped with more sugar. Without the granola, honey, bananas, and berries, the acai itself is tart and watery. By the time you’re halfway through, it’s melted, soupy, and hard to eat. But it looks pretty in photos, and that’s why it keeps showing up in trendy cafés.
Turmeric lattes.

They look gorgeous—golden and glowing. But that first sip often tastes like someone blended curry spices into warm almond milk. It’s earthy in the way that dirt is earthy. Even fans of turmeric admit it’s an acquired taste. Most people order it once, drink it slowly, and nod like they’re doing something healthy—while silently wishing it were a mocha instead.
Beetroot hummus.

It’s pink, which makes it feel special. But the flavor? It’s a strange combo of sweet earthiness clashing with garlic and tahini. The texture’s fine, but it’s rarely better than classic hummus. It shows up at parties with veggie platters and pita chips, mostly left untouched while the regular hummus bowl is scraped clean. It’s more decorative than delicious.