Delivery orders account for a huge slice of the hospitality ecosystem in Canada, writes Marsha Lederman.David Zalubowski/The Associated Press
It started with Order-In Thursday. This COVID-19 initiative was meant to inject some weekly fun into the slog of pandemic meal preparation – especially as the week wore on, grocery supplies became depleted and the meal prep kits used up – along with my energy and will to carry on.
Our Thursday food delivery tradition remains. But order-in creep has set in. “Order-in Monday?” my teenager will suggest, knowing I will easily succumb, even though the chicken is sitting right there, in the fridge, spiced and marinated and waiting for me to shove it into the oven.
The possibilities beckon from my phone: an Indian feast, avocado sushi, burgers or, yes, chicken. And the greatest possibility of all: not having to get up from my desk (or couch) and deal with the raw chicken.
During the pandemic, ordering in was the Right Thing To Do. We were helping our local food service industry. We were all in this together! But long after life has normalized, we remain Skip the Dishes, Uber Eats and DoorDash frequent fliers.
“Craving something new?” the phone notification entices. Not really. But we are craving something: a break.
And with these cravings come the justifications we recite to ourselves: I deserve this; I work so hard. And groceries are so expensive anyway; how much more could ordering-in possibly cost?
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My household is not alone in this consumer behaviour shift. When I read recently in the New York Times that in the U.S., almost three of every four restaurant orders in 2024 were not eaten in a restaurant, I thought: Whoa. And also: Phew, I’m not the only one.
In this country, delivery orders also account for a huge slice of the hospitality ecosystem. Restaurants Canada’s 2025 Foodservice Facts report reveals that 64 per cent of Canadians order in. The numbers are particularly high for younger people; 79 per cent of Gen Z Canadians had ordered delivery during a six-month stretch.
Using data from last July, Angus Reid’s Consumer Economic Pulse showed that more Canadians ordered in during the observed period than ate at an actual restaurant.
The delivery-service corporate websites are full of positive information about the benefits for their drivers – and consumers.
Uber Canada lists ways it is “Making Daily Life Easier” for Canadians – estimating that Uber Eats is used daily “to order food or groceries for more than 14,000 birthday parties, 16,000 date nights, and 50,000 family meals.”
But these thousands of meals can come with a side of guilt.
The guilt of knowing we’re depriving restaurants of whatever cut the third-party delivery service is taking. The guilt of knowing the drivers are not exactly raking it in.
The guilt of all that packaging. (And, frankly, the hassle. Sure, we’re skipping the dishes. But I’d rather load dishes into the dishwasher – a privilege, I know – than dispose of all those bags, boxes and lids.)
By ordering through Skip the Dishes, I’m supporting a Canadian operation, I tell myself. Good for me! (Even with whatever it pays spokespeople like Jon Hamm and Seth Rogen – is this where our fees go?)
But even I can’t talk my way around justifying the cost – BOGO offers and random promotional discounts be damned.
In the name of journalism, I did a deep dive. I went back and looked through my (many, many) food delivery receipts, littering my inbox with a distinct scent of the shame of dereliction of duty, both domestic and financial.
How did last week’s order for Taco Bell for two people end up costing … $53.25?
How did a couple of chicken sandwiches from a local takeout spot balloon to … $65.84?
How did my kid’s breakfast from Starbucks that morning I was too sick to get out of bed cost ... $27.18?
All of this, while money is so tight. But time is tight too. And energy. And will.
Not the best cook, I now order in for guests. It’s easier than going to a restaurant, and we can linger afterward on comfy couches and chairs, rather than sitting at a table we know we should vacate because we’re done. We can turn on the TV. And crack open another bottle of wine. I feel guilty as I write this! Sorry, restaurants!
Over the next couple of weeks, many Canadians will witness extreme athleticism at the Olympics, while we ourselves medal in decadence: couch-potato-ing with grub we couldn’t be bothered to prepare ourselves or walk (or even drive) over to the takeout place to buy.
Despite the costs, financial and otherwise, I know this practice will continue. How to minimize the impact (and guilt)? Try to cut back; order from local, independent restaurants; reuse the containers whenever possible. Above all, tip well and be kind. And grateful.