In the future, food will be similar to what it is today, only bigger and with much better Wi-Fi.
In the future, gluten will be free but only if you are very, very rich.
The rainbow-colored-food trend will go away in the future, as will naturally occurring rainbows.
In the future, we will not use plates, only pieces of toast. Utensils will come in four flavor-blasted varieties: Ranch, Cool Ranch, Lame Ranch, and Shitty Plastic.
In the future, eggplants will not be food and I don’t have to tell you why.
In the future, pumpkin-spice season will be recognized by the scientific community, and avocados will scream at you when they are ripe.
In the future, Nature Valley granola bars will come with an extra bag of crumbs that you can dump right onto the seat of your car, because Nature Valley just, like, gets me.
In the future, fast-food restaurants will no longer exist. Except for Wendy’s, where all they will serve is hot political takes, Sick Burns™, and old chili.
The beer of the future will all be rosé, rosé will be La Croix, and La Croix will literally rain down from the sky because Rebecca’s vision board actually fucking worked.
In the future, there will be no more hunger, because hunger will get rebranded as “opposite full.”
In the future, there will be no more pizza. We abused our pizza privileges for one too many generations, and so it will cease to exist. You will still be able to get food that is pizza flavored, but pizza flavoring will taste less and less like pizza and more and more like the way vomit smells.
There will still be burritos, though, because, in the future, our burrito standards will drop to “I don’t know—just wrap a food in a different food?”
In the near future, people will stop talking about eating Tide pods and start talking about whether we can cook full meals in the dryer.
In the future, chocolate will become extinct, but we’ll have traded it to get the dinosaurs back, which is a pretty good deal.
In the future, brunch will extend from 6 A.M. to 11 P.M., and the remaining time will legally be referred to as “fourth meal.”
Everyone will be vegan in the future, so eventually we’ll all run out of things to talk about.
Luci Gutiérrez, Associate Editor at newyorker