I know food bloggers are supposed to be into food, but do they really have to tell us everything they eat? They remind me of 12-year-old girls with half-chewed food in their mouth, sticking their tongues out to get attention. Not very appetizing.
I don’t mean to be sexist about this but there’s something sad and unseemly about grown women endlessly tweeting, FBing, blogging, and otherwise texting about what they ate, are eating, and will eat. And it is indeed mostly bloggeuses who operate these chew blogs—their male counterparts at least throw in some wine, perhaps a few beers, before going off to playing with their Wii.
But it isn’t the sex of a food blogger that’s the problem rather the lack thereof. The libido of these wannabe Julies (or is it Julias?) is exclusively and obsessively directed toward what can be bought, prepared, and swallowed. Other than that there’s no there there.
Blogs are of course obsessive by nature. But the better blogs, whether about food or travel or anything else, manage to attach to their chosen obsession some analysis or contemplation or reflection or conviviality surrounding their subject—in short, some humanity, something to share. These aren’t geek blogs about “Mafia Wars” or iPhones, these are supposed to be about food and all that involves: earth, life, culture, exchange, breaking bread, shared conversation, a personal and collective quest for substance and sustenance.
The majority of food bloggers, however, offer neither substance nor sustenance. Even when they present recipes they aren’t really sharing so much as letting you know how they kept busy before sitting down to eat. And there’s never a surprise ending since every mouthful ends with a self-congratulatory “Mmmm!!!”
You can tell a blogger’s at a complete loss for words when there’s a post that contains five close-up images of an éclair in various states of consumption, with the heading “Stopped at Chez Madeleine on the way home. Mmmm!!!” I wish they’d put even a tenth of the time they spend thinking about what goes into their mouth into what comes out of it.
Don’t get me wrong, I have great respect for food writing. There are some very palatable, informative, and entertaining food blogs out there, though I can’t think of any offhand. Perhaps readers can tell me some so that I might present as the plat de résistance. (Disclaimer: Food writing is also a part of my work, though I am more a travel writer and advisor than a food writer.)
Good food writers manage to talk about food while showing some connection between a given food/product/restaurant and people, place, culture, history, geography, economics, even themselves.
Bad food bloggers try to give themselves kitchen cred by dropping names:
“I ate at that bistro that Mark Bittman wrote about in the NY Times and it’s as good as he says it is. Here’s the link to his article.”
“Michelin gives it three stars but I’d only give it two.”
“I started with the Barefoot Contessa recipe but gave it my own personal twist because my favorite vegetable seller Claude had THE BEST avocadoes at the market today.”
They would have us believe that they spend their time hobnobbing with farmers, fishmongers, butchers, produce sellers, and chefs of all kinds, but, like an actor trying to learn acting by watching sitcoms, their characters inevitably come directly from central casting.
Read enough such food blogs and you realize how much of it is food porn, only instead of penetration and bad acting they show engorgement and bad writing, with an apron as protection instead of a condom. “Eat it, baby, eat it… Yeh, lick that hot emulsified sauce, you know you like it! Go ahead, fork it.” Go down on a few of these blogs and your gag reflex kicks in within a few inches.
No wonder “Gourmet” magazine folded. Their readers were too busy blogging about everything they ate to want to cut out and save actual articles. (On the other hand, “Gourmet” had become a hyped up version of those same blogs.)
Bad food blogs are irrepressibly cheery. That might sound like a good thing. Indeed, initially the image they present of the happy, venturesome foodie seems sweet and appealing enough. But follow them for three or four posts as they go about their daily search of multiple Mmmm!!! food orgasms and you’ll find that these food bloggers have created a disturbingly manic food persona for themselves. They are constantly applauding themselves for having a kitchen, an appetite, and a camera. The bad food blogger’s syllogism goes as follows: I love food. You love food. So you love me.
I think I’m going to be sick.
(c) 2010, Gary Lee Kraut
Recipe for this article
Servings: Self
Calories: 0
Preparation time: 24-36 hours
Temperature: May be served hot or cold
Ingredients: 6-10 food blogs, 1 keyboard, 1 website
1. Select 6-10 food blogs. You can get these through your local “food blog” search but I prefer the peppery expression of those available in specialty searches such as “French food blog” or “Italian food blog” or “Southern food blog” or “lonely foodie wants the world to know she exists” or “wealthy traveler finds purpose in life in food.”
Blog posts should be fresh, frequent, and colorful. Look for large gaps of 2 months of blogging as this may be a sign of nervous breakdown. Be wary of a series of blog posts that consist of unformatted images showing close-ups éclairs and cupcakes as these contain few textual nutrients. Avoid blogs that make excessive use of links to articles and videos that are not their own as they contain large quantities of free radicals.
2. Once you have selected food blogs of sufficient self-indulgence, eliminate skin of attitude. Read each for 10 minutes.
3. (optional) Brown slightly by posting one-line comment on Facebook or other social networking site. This may cause loss of some amigos and followers but will bring out the flavor in others.
4. Let simmer for 12-22 hours. Some rant may spill well before then, but personally I like to wait. My own method is to begin this recipe between midnight and 2 a.m. then let simmer until the following evening, however that schedule may be impractical for some. Stir occasionally. Avoid further blog searches as that will dampen spontaneity of rant.
5. When ready, quickly stir until all blogs are fully blended, then place rant layer by layer without allowing previous layer to cool.
6. (optional) I also like to add a glass of whiskey at this point, but other beverages are also possible. Alternately, coffee may be used, but I suggest adding that well before midnight so as to avoid ranting through the night.
7. Limit rant to 2 hours and 800 words. Larger quantities tend to dilute the original flavor of the blended blogs.
8. Select and format photo. Any image showing the author enjoying local food will do.
9. Let sit on desktop overnight or at least 3 hours.
10. Reread, eliminate excess fat, and smooth transitions without seeking perfection as this is intended for relaxed consumption.
11. Serve. I like to use fine France Revisited dishware for this.