Society’s definition of what constitutes a snack is restrictive and deprives individuals of the primal satisfaction of a feral snacking habit I call guerrilla snacking.

By the constraints of society, some examples of acceptable snacks might be a handful of almonds, some carrots and hummus, a bowl of chips, a cheese stick … the list goes on.

However, guerrilla snacking entails a level of snacking much more animalistic and disordered.

Guerrilla snacking is performed without authority and is the impromptu, craving-guided raid of any or all sources of food in your home.

To a guerrilla snacker, anything can be a snack.

A guerrilla snacker may, for example, start with a bowl of shredded cheese. Then, after deciding they need to balance the dairy with some acidity, they may grab a single gherkin from the jar. And then, to balance the saltiness, they may then hunt for a handful of chocolate chips or marshmallows.

While there is nothing wrong with taking the time out of your day to self-care and make yourself a thought-out and planned charcuterie board; I think that one can also derive joy from pantry foraging.

Think of the rat, Templeton, in the 1973 “Charlotte’s Web:” “A fair is a veritable smorgasbord-orgasbord-orgasbord / After the crowds have ceased / Each night when the lights go out it can be found on the ground all around / Oh, what a ratly feast! / Melon rinds and bits of hot dogs / Cookie crumbs and rotten cotton candy / Melted ice cream, mustard driplings / Moldy goodies everywhere / Lots of popcorn, apple cores / Banana peels and soggy sandwiches / And gobs of gorgeous gook to gobble at the fair … / Each night when the lights go out it can be found on the ground all around/That’s where a rat can glut, glut, glut, glut!”

The joy received from disorganized, forage-like, urge-driven snacking is the center of guerrilla snacking.

Perhaps it is due to my being raised in an ingredient household or my lack of picky eating habits, I find society’s idea of what makes up an acceptable snack too restrictive — if not a misrepresentation of society’s true habits.

With Olivia Maher’s coining of the term and social media trend “girl dinner,” I found I was not alone.

For those unfamiliar with the trend, it all started when Maher posted a video of her talking about a girl who said that a medieval peasant meal of bread and cheese was the ideal meal for her. Maher then pans the camera to a countertop covered with a block of cheese, bread, a glass of wine, butter, pickles and grapes and says, “I call this girl dinner.”

Maher’s video trend has since gotten over a billion interactions and has led many women to stand in solidarity, showing their takes on girl dinners — all of varying intensities of strangeness, and even making a girl dinner song.

Maher later describes girl dinner on a post made by Instagram’s @creators account, saying girl dinner is “whatever you have on hand that leaves you full and happy.”

Shortly after the girl dinner revolution, “boy dinner” was created by TikToker @bryaninheelee.

While the underlying principle is the same, “boy dinner” entails high-caloric entrees with no sides in sight.

The existence of “girl dinner” and “boy dinner” is evidence of my observed gap between what society expects to be a snack and the reality of what individuals are actually snacking on and eating in private.

Guerrilla snacking builds on the idea of girl and boy dinners by extending the general principle of these habits to snacking.

With an open mind and hungry stomach, anything can be a snack.