I’m shocked to discover how many otherwise sensible people yearn to become food writers. It isn’t an easy life.
Geography is destiny. We associate certain places with specific foods. Tuscany is still right up there when it come to desirable place names. We much prefer Swiss to any old cheese fondue. Cassoulet from Toulouse is infinitely superior to pork ‘n’ beans.
Provence, as in Warm Provencal Tart with Seared Tuna and Fragrant Herbs, beats a tuna fish sandwich every time.
Napa, Maine and Vermont are magical words. So is Texas, but only when we’re talking about barbecue. New Jersey, though it claims to be The Garden State, lacks the charm of Buffalo, New York. For we salivate over the promise of Buffalo wings and even mozzarella from a buffalo?
Chefs like to suggest that their served trout has been swimming in a lake, though we all know full well, it mostly comes from fish farms in Idaho. Bays are dreamy places particularly at sunset. Booth Bay and Chesapeake sound like appealing places to go for oysters.
Prince Edward Island is a real island. Staten Island lacks its charisma.
The Mediterranean diet retains its promise of life everlasting. A recent report reveals some fish stocks are regaining strength in the Atlantic, but salmon mostly don’t swim there any more.
Food writers have to divine all these subtleties of language. Only then can they choose one of these specialties:
- Cookbook Author
- Cookbook Reviewer
- Cookbook Translator
- Ethics Reporter
- Literary Agent
- Menu Writer
- Mystery Food Writer
- Restaurant Reviewer
- Science Writer
- Script Writer
- Travel Writer
- Trend Tracker
Or occupy any among several dozen other comfortable niches. The trick is to keep a roof over your head while you and your mouse follow your heart.