My first plate was piled high with shrimp, squid, crab, and mantis shrimp. The second was filled with oysters, salmon, and sashimi. The third was a mountain of grilled meat.
Reading a recent article about buffet culture reminded me of my own experience a few years ago. I was never a big foodie, but like many people, the word buffet always got me excited.
That day, my friends and I went out to celebrate a birthday at a well-known buffet restaurant that offered everything, from premium seafood like lobster, grilled oysters with cheese, salmon sashimi, to other delicacies such as U.S. beef and Australian lamb.
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Seafood dishes at a buffet. Photo by Pexels |
Each buffet seat cost VND500,000 (over US$19) per person, not including drinks, which is a considerable sum for me at the time. So, as soon as I sat down, a sweet little voice in my head told me: “I have to eat my money’s worth.”
Once I stepped up to the buffet counters, I was overwhelmed. The seafood glistened under the lights, and smoke from the grill carried an irresistible aroma. I grabbed a plate and dove in as if entering an eating contest. First plate: Shrimp, squid, crab, mantis prawns. Second: Oysters, salmon, sashimi, scallops, clams. Third had all kinds of grilled meat, like beef, lamb, and pork.
Each time I stood up, I told myself, “I’ve paid for the seat, so not eating more would be a waste. Eating vegetables or bread at a buffet is throwing money out a window.” So I avoided greens, soup, even dessert, just to save room for the most expensive dishes.
After nearly two hours of nonstop eating, I felt bloated and short of breath. When I finally stood up, I had to hold onto the chair, unable to straighten my back. All I wanted to do was to lie down. That night, my “victory” came at a painful cost: Indigestion, acid reflux, and a burning sensation in my chest that kept me awake. My body felt sluggish and overburdened, as if I’d eaten twice my body weight.
The next morning, I was still bloated, exhausted, and nauseous at the sight of food. I ended up drinking honey and ginger to calm my stomach. What was meant to be a celebration turned into a weeklong ordeal.
Looking back, I felt embarrassed. I went to enjoy the meal but turned it into a battle with my own stomach. The mindset of “eating your money’s worth” is common. We fear wasting money, so we overeat. But that kind of “value” only exists in our heads. In reality, it’s our bodies that suffer, our digestion that slows, and our enjoyment that disappears.
Since then, I’ve completely changed my approach. A buffet isn’t about eating as much as possible; it’s about enjoying variety. A few shrimp, some sashimi, a bit of grilled meat, salad, and fruit, that’s what a real buffet is. What I did that day was simply greed disguised as value, bringing nothing but discomfort.
Now, when I go to a buffet, I eat slowly and choose carefully, enjoy vegetables and fruit, and stop before my body protests. I no longer think about “getting my money’s worth,” because it only feels worth it when I truly enjoy it. I remind myself each time: Better to eat less and be happy than to eat too much and regret it later.
