You watched Food, Inc. with your mouth aghast. You own a few cookbooks.

You go out to that hot new restaurant with the tattooed chef who’s putting on a whole-animal, nose-to-tail pricy special dinner. You bliss out on highfalutin’ pork rinds, braised pigs feet, rustic paté, and porchetta.

Later that weekend, you nibble on small bites as you stroll down the city street, blocked off for a weekend “foodie” festival.

Then you go back to your Monday-Friday workaday routine, ordering pizza and buying some frozen chicken breasts at Costco (“Hey, at least they’re ‘organic’!”) to get you through your hectic week. (You make time for at least two hours a day of reality TV.) You manage to get to a farmers market about once a month, but the rest of the time your eggs and meat come from Costco, Trader Joe’s, and maybe Whole Paycheck now and again.

Guess what? You are NOT changing the food system. Not even close.

You’re no better or different than the average American. You pat yourself on the back, you brag about your lunch on Twitter, you pity your Midwestern relatives eating their chicken-fried steak and ambrosia salad, but you secretly loathe your grocery store bill — which consumes only 8 percent of your income while your car devours 30 percent. Your bananas and coffee may be Fair Trade, but everything else is Far From It. The dozen eggs you splurge on once a month may be from local, outdoor-roaming birds, but all the other eggs you eat come from a giant egg conglomerate in either Petaluma, Calif., or Pennsylvania.