New York Times food critic Frank Bruni writes about what taking guests out to eat nightly for more than five years has taught him about human nature.

...I typically ate out with three other people, so a large number of dishes could be tried, and began each meal by telling my guests which dishes should or shouldn’t be ordered, in accordance with my progress through the menu on any earlier visits.

...“So I can’t get the steak?” my friend R. said one night, his pout so pronounced he was like a male Jolie: Mangelina. I apologized. I explained: I’d capitulated to the last steak maniac, on the second visit to the restaurant, and there really, truly, honestly wasn’t any way to justify a third examination of the steak.

...The pretend eaters who amused me the most, though, were the skinny men and women who had developed a whole theatrical routine — a pantomime of gluttony — to obscure their asceticism. It wasn’t enough for them to be thin; they had to pretend that it was a fluke of metabolism, magical and effortless.

Clearly, this man is eating with the wrong people. I'd like to let Frank Bruni know that if he were to invite me to one of his dinners next time I'm in New York, I'd accept. And I'd be well-behaved.