Harry Turnbull, 22, is the fussier eater in his relationship. While his girlfriend Marianne is always up for making new recipes, Turnbull earned himself the nickname “The Fajita Guy” while an undergraduate student, owing to the fact he ate fajitas almost every night. “I’m very much the kind of person who enjoys eating the same thing on repeat,” he says.

Harry and Marianne are in a ‘palate-gap’ relationship. While on the surface that may sound like a non-issue, food habits are a bona fide dealbreaker for many modern daters. One survey by Match.com found that 66 per cent of singles said that picky eating was a major turn-off, and anecdotally, it’s becoming increasingly common to see Hinge profiles which state “You should not go out with me if: You’re a picky eater”.

It makes sense: as dating apps present users with an abundance of potential romantic partners, many are becoming highly selective when it comes to swiping right, and a person’s attitude towards food can become a means of quickly gauging compatibility. “When we don’t have much information on a person, small lifestyle markers like food preferences can become shorthand for deeper values,” explains dating expert Sarah Louise Ryan.

There’s also a gendered element to this. Given that women still perform a disproportionate amount of domestic labour, I can understand a woman’s reluctance to shack up with a grown man who is happy living off microwaveable ready-meals and has no interest in learning how to whip up a basic dinner from scratch (‘weaponised incompetence’, as TikTok would call it). “Many women today are looking for partners who participate equally in domestic life,” Ryan says. “When people mention ‘someone who can cook’ in their dating preferences, they are often expressing a desire for partnership and effort, rather than a preference for good pasta.” One recent study even found that an unequal division of household labour can be a libido-killer for women, suggesting that a man’s inability to cook is literally a turn-off. 

Plus, in the early stages of a relationship, dates typically involve eating and drinking together, and bonding over a meal can help fuel romance. The late food critic and documentarian Anthony Bourdain famously wrote in Cosmopolitan that he fell in love with his first wife after watching her demolish a six-pound lobster. “You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together,” he wrote. “If your date makes the experience uptight and restrictive, well, the sex is going to be horrible too.” He’s not alone: a 2021 study found that people who are open to trying new foods are generally perceived as more sexually desirable and less sexually restricted. 

“Food is quite central in the early stages of dating because it creates a natural structure for connection – after all, bonding is strengthened through shared experiences rather than just conversation,” Ryan explains. “Eating together also taps into something quite primal [...] Across cultures, sharing food is one of the oldest ways humans signal safety, belonging, and generosity.”

“Would I ever date a picky eater? No,” says 35-year-old Richard Crampton-Platt. “We all have likes and dislikes, but if they’re picky, it’s normally a sign of a completely closed mind.” As a food writer and former restaurateur, Crampton-Platt says a relationship “just wouldn’t work” with a more cautious partner. “If the ultimate aim is to end up living with someone, we need to be able to eat together,” he says, adding that he’d struggle to date a vegan or someone who “went to the gym seven times a week and had a ridiculous diet”. According to registered psychologist Dr Carolyne Keenan, foodies can feel “rejected” when pickier eaters don’t understand their love of food. “Over time, this can create a pursuer-withdrawer dynamic, which we know from relationship research often escalates conflict,” she says. 

We all have likes and dislikes, but if they’re picky, it’s normally a sign of a completely closed mind

It’s worth acknowledging, of course, that it’s harder for some people to try new foods than others. Turnbull, The Fajita Guy, was diagnosed as autistic in 2025, which, he says, relates to his preference for routine and instinctive aversion to certain foods. “I’ve always had a problem with textures,” he explains, adding that Marianne’s go-to lunch of a tomato and hummus sandwich makes his stomach turn. “I just can’t wrap my head around that.” This chimes with Dr Keenan. “A palate gap may reflect deeper differences in novelty-seeking, risk tolerance or sensory sensitivity,” she explains. “What looks like stubbornness may in fact be a nervous system seeking safety.”

Marianne’s upbringing was also starkly different to Turnbull’s own, a factor which he believes has impacted their respective palates. “She’s lived in Kent, Geneva, and Amsterdam, and travelled all over the world,” he says, adding that she’s visited “Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, the US” and more. “She’s been exposed to a lot of different foods from a lot of different cultures.” On top of this, her mother used to work as a chef: “So even when they weren’t on holiday, her mum would make really extravagant meals at home that the average parent couldn’t make,” Turnbull says. “My parents certainly couldn’t make them.” By contrast, “chicken nuggets and pizzas” featured heavily in his diet as a child. 

“Social class is a central influence on what we eat and how we eat,” says Dr Maxine Woolhouse, a senior lecturer in psychology at Leeds Beckett University with expertise in eating practices. “Our tastes arise from the foods and approaches to eating that we’re exposed to as children.” Ethnicity, too, has a “significant influence” on someone’s palate, and the “tastes, flavours and textures” we’re exposed to are shaped by the culture we’re raised in. “For example, in countries and cultures where spices are commonly grown, traditional dishes are typically spicy, and therefore people in these cultures are exposed to spicy foods from a young age,” she says. 

This has been the experience of 21-year-old Alisha Jarman, who ascribes her love of “spicy foods and aromatic dishes” to her upbringing in a Caribbean and South Asian family. Her Italian girlfriend, however, doesn’t share the same tastes. “In Nando’s, she’d get her chicken plain, whereas I’d always get medium or hot,” Jarman says. While in the early stages of their relationship, Jarman thought her girlfriend’s inability to handle spice was “cute”, it soon became more “tricky” to navigate.

“As our relationship progressed and we started eating out more, cooking together, and living together, it became a bit more awkward,” she explains. “It’s nice to share your culture with your partner, but when I tried to introduce her to Jamaican or South Asian food, she’d take a mouthful and say it was too spicy.” Jarman’s disappointment at her partner’s inability to get on board with “well-seasoned stews and curries” tracks with Dr Keenan. “If one partner’s cuisine represents their upbringing or cultural identity, a refusal to engage with it may feel like a rejection of that history,” she says.

Dr Woolhouse stresses that our outlook on food is by no means immutable. “It can change depending on our life trajectory. For example, people who become socially and economically mobile are often exposed to different foods in that process,” she explains. With this in mind, there’s hope for picky eaters yet – although Dr Keenan stresses that “mutual and respectful” compromise is essential in a palate-gap relationship. “The less adventurous partner can acknowledge that food may represent creativity, connection or even romance for the other person; at the same time, the adventurous partner cannot force expansion,” she says. 

After visiting her girlfriend’s family in Italy, Jarman realised that lightly seasoning food with “salt, pepper, herbs, and olive oil” was the cultural norm. “I was like ‘oh, it’s not just her’,” she explains. “It’s no wonder she has a really low tolerance for spice, because she’s just not used to it at all.” As the more flexible party in her relationship, she has now made an effort to eat more of the “plainer” Mediterranean food her girlfriend prefers. To her surprise, she’s been enjoying it. “I feel a lot healthier,” she says. “I’m eating less food that’s high in salt and cholesterol.”

For Turnbull and Marianne, recipe boxes from HelloFresh have been a gamechanger. “We choose the recipes together, so we both have a say on what we eat,” he explains. “She’s been very accepting of me, and in return I’ve tried to be open to new foods.” He adds that the pair are planning a trip to Japan next year, a destination chosen in part because of its lively food scene. “I’m very excited.”