The following transcript was meant to run in the Indianapolis alt-weekly dining section in lieu of my usual restaurant critique. My editor killed it, saying we should save it for the October dining guide. He reasons (I’m reasoning) that this is more of a state-of-the-local-dining-scene piece, which just goes to show how out of touch traditional media can be about the power of blogging. To me, the move regarded food blogging as a fad or hallmark of 2009, when it is neither of those. Try as they might to be “interactive,” print media does not want to unclutch their slipping grasp on agenda setting.
Anyway, as you’ll read, the piece was about a popular local food blogger who recently went M.I.A.—and just last week announced the reasons for her two-month hiatus. (She’s since blogged twice. Publicity stunt, perhaps?)
The whole episode, in my opinion, highlights a local food scene crossroads that’s reflected in other markets as well. With the recent explosion of food shows and blogs that breaks down the barriers between paid journalists, professional chefs and home cooks (which, by the way, have been on the rise during the current recession), the snootiness once reserved for food critics has been liberalized in the blogosphere and beyond.
Case in point: The Indianapolis blogger in question takes for granted that there could be such a thing as universal good taste in demanding food bloggers demand better from local restaurants. This viewpoint irks me. The fact that this albeit worthy writer of good taste has raved about the sushi I found cloying at a new downtown Asian lounge should illustrate why: there’s no such thing as universal good taste. (In my published review, I was purposely tacit about the food, praising the drinks and scene instead.)
But then, so does the fact that my magazine higher-ups somewhat refuse to recognize that food bloggers can be at least as knowledgeable as people who get paid to print their thoughts. (There is other stuff I’m not yet mentioning here.)
“A Food Scene for the Blogs”
You know times are hard when the people who write about food for the sheer joy of it start throwing in the towel, or even turning against the local scene.
Indianapolis has long had a healthy food blogging community, but as long as the economy limps along on life support, monies to sample the dining scene run thinner. The Hungry Hoosier’s Scott Hutcheson, co-author of “Home Grown Indiana,” says he is “eating out less than [he] once was,” accounting for the lack of posts in his well-regarded blog about Indiana farms and food joints.
Renee Wilmeth has also put her popular fine dining and chef-centric Feed Me/Drink Me blog on a diet. She has different reasons, though: She was tired of being hounded by PR people and those from the blogosphere to review and link to everything under the sun. She made no bones about being generally disappointed in the local fine dining scene, farmers markets and food writers. Generally, she says, we are not being hard enough on local restaurateurs, and not demanding enough from specialty catering shops. Her commenting readers, generally food bloggers themselves, generally consented to her opinion. One of them chattered on how any “fat-headed” person could write a dining blog. Oh, the irony.
Is the Indy dining scene that dire? Are there really precious few good dining options at a time when eating out is no small investment? Do people in Indy just have bad taste buds? I’m not so sure about all of that.
First of all, there’s no such thing as a universally good-tasting food, or restaurant, for that matter. Many, many things go into our food preferences, from our own personal background and experiences to our physiology. The science of taste is still something we don’t totally grasp, but we do know that people do not taste things the same way (it’s not just our taste buds, but the way our brains process the sensation). Add to that the fact that there are many, many acquired tastes in the world—many of them revered by self-proclaimed “foodies.” Take the Chinese century egg, which is proclaimed a delicacy after weeks-long preservation in ash, lime, salt, and other curing materials turns the whites into a gelatinous brown substance and the yolk smelling of sulfur.
To me, then, taste can be largely relative. The goal is to identify the kinds of things that you like, so that others with similar backgrounds and sensibilities know if and when to follow suit.
We live in an age where information abounds, and there is still no shortage of that in the local food community. There are many quality local food blogs still, each with its own little niche and spin. Let’s not let any more of them go by the wayside. Visit. Participate.
Renee’s nuclear post on Feed Me Drink Me demonstrates that blogging is a phenomenon which cannot be effectively caged by the buzzing world of local commerce and public relations. People write because they enjoy crafting words and spilling emotions on their keyboards. When free passes, commission checks and product samples arrive, blogger reactions tumble toward unpredictable. When readers discover their favorite witticisms are on a secret payroll or have been quietly assembled by third-party hands, they may respond with shrugs or fisticuffs. No one knows the shape of this media landscape, except to say it is undiscovered and untamed.
@robbyslaughter
Agreed. Although I’d argue that bloggers want an audience, or they wouldn’t publish their stuff to the World Wide Web. And the eventual responses from the outside world are an inevitability.
This is a great piece, Jennifer. WIRED recently ran an article that talked about our new wave of socialism, where everyone is involved, not just a select few. We’re watching the face of journalism change before our eyes.
However, many bloggers are nothing more than hobbyists with a penchant for starting trouble. There are several very good food blogs out there that are absolutely exceptional. You just need to find them.
What irks me most are anonymous bloggers who enter restaurants, give scathing reviews, and end up hurting businesses at a time when they can ill afford to lose potential customers. Ruth Reichl worked successfully as an anonymous food critic for the New York Times for years. The only difference is those three words – New York Times.
I can’t name names, but last weekend I was with a group of food bloggers, one of which had given a particularly negative review to a restaurant that he’d not even eaten at yet. He sat down at the table to be served, was quickly recognized by the staff, and was promptly asked to leave by the head chef.
This is a big reason why I find Yelp to have little to no credibility. It’s full of mostly anonymous users who can give 1-star reviews to any establishment they feel like, with no accountability. I often wonder if half of these people have even entered the establishment they’re bashing. If you want real restaurant ratings, refer to Zagat.
Whether we want to buy into it or not. Print media still has the clout it needs. I think they’ve deserved it. It’s when ethics come into question that I have a problem, and it’s a big one. And bloggers are no worse than they are when it comes to this.
Thanks for your post. Enlightening.
I agree with the importance of accountability, and that print media definitely imparts a bit of credibility to a reviewer (of course, to some, being employed by The Magazine or The Paper is a scarlet letter). But when a food blogger is good, and with their own set of ethics (and an idea or two about grammar), I usually find their input more valuable than most paid journalists because A. they’re doing what they love for free, which means they’re passionate about it and have the real inside scoop and B. they’re typically not beholden to editors, who are beholden to publishers, who are beholden to advertisers. If anyone thinks any writer these days has never had a story killed or assigned based on revenue … step into my office.
As for the Yelp/NYT stars issue: I’ve always had a problem with assigning stars to restaurants, because you know it’s the first thing a reader will look at, and it’s pretty subjective. I mean, 3 of 5 stars is better than average, right? But it’s not exactly a glowing review. There’s a lot of room to interpret what that means, and it’s not always received how the author meant it. And then, the jump between a 3 and 4 star review can be pretty great, you know? Of course, there’s also the problem of how my rating of one restaurant fits into all the other ratings I’ve given, baggage that is not always fair to the particular restaurant at hand. It’s complicated. I’d rather a reader just read the review and ignore the star count, so they can see exactly how I feel. Of course, all the readers have fled to the interweb.