I’m beginning to think I am the Goldilocks of eating. What do I mean?

More and more, I notice people around me either dining disturbingly fast or at such a glacial pace that their languor becomes everyone else’s annoyance.

Lately, for example, whenever my partner and I go out for a meal, we find that other couples who arrive later than us still manage to finish, pay and leave while we are still polishing off the main course. Maybe they have a movie to catch, except their dispassionate hurry does make them seem like they are excited about it.

We never thought we were slow eaters. In fact, I always assumed I had a bad habit of wolfing down food too quickly – a trait I blame on my teenage years. Busy with school, sports and social activities, compounded with a voracious appetite and metabolism, back then I could gulp down a supersized meal like it was a mere snack.

Now, I have a better appreciation of food. I enjoy flavours and textures, extract delicate notes from herbs and spices, and try to savour each morsel. Also, I have conversations with dining companions in between bites.

However, not everybody is as convivial. I can understand individual workers scarfing down their fried noodles and dashing back to the office. But you also get groups who barely say a word to each other, who eat and leave a restaurant like they are bored by the experience.

A common denominator among such groups is that they all have a phone attached to a hand. Instead of talking, they scroll and type in silence. Their faces are either buried in a bowl or in a screen, with barely a word the entire meal.