There’s a special kind of niche celebrity drama that elicits rage tweets and extensive Reddit threads. It renders me hypnotized, staring open-mouthed at my phone for minutes at a time, my heart beating and my mind racing. I’m talking, of course, about the weirdly specific foods famous people order and eat, and the over-the-top way the internet responds.
Yes, I’m talking about Olivia Wilde’s “special salad dressing” (not a euphemism, I checked), James Corden or his wife Julia Carey’s Balthazar order (an egg yolk–only omelet with Gruyère cheese and a salad), Real Housewives’ Dorit Kemsley’s innovative and unnerving “carcass out” cocktail order, and, of course, Emma D’Arcy’s “negroni…sbagliato…with prosecco in it,” a phrase that has been gorgeously branded into my brain for the rest of time.
Why do celebrities’ orders capture the hearts and minds of millions? It’s a phenomenon that depicts two sides of the same perfectly manicured coin that is celebrity culture. Because we put celebrities on such a pedestal, we’re naturally obsessed with sticking our noses into every corner of their lives. The knowledge that Julia Carey will not even eat one bite of egg white in her omelet is a ridiculous factoid we find irresistible—just as we watch 20-minute Architectural Digest house tours in which the famous monologue about their love of limes.
On the other hand, these stories also break down the wall between ourselves and fame. Celebrity recipes so often go viral, because they’re the easiest, and often the cheapest, way we can get a taste of what it's like to be a celebrity. And that makes them relatable. We feel closer to Emma D’Arcy because we, too, have ordered a cocktail before. If she met us, Olivia Wilde might even want to be friends. After all, we, too, have prepared a special and specific salad dressing for our lovers, haven’t we?
The internet, as we well know, is a rage machine. Discovering a celebrity’s bizarre food preference allows us a chance to judge these perfectly skinned demigods who dominate our televisions and phone screens. Sure, Julia Carey might be wealthier, and better-looking, than I am, but at least I don’t send back my omelet because I see a single speck of white.