A Pantry full of Possibility
Culinary promises I hope to keep
What makes food worth writing about? When I first became conscious of food writing as a distinct genre (sometime around 2008), I was simultaneously informed by two genres, neither of which I knew exactly how to crack. One was the polished format of the cookbook, one that spoke of distinct authority in both recipe preparation and the arguments that could move a dish from an author’s imagination to a reader’s table. Julia Child obviously held (and continues to hold) the title of most persuasive cookbook author ever, someone whose knowledge, taste, and persona became unimpeachable to her readers, and whose legacy is reinvented over and over and over again for every new generation of fans. The other was, of course, the food blog itself as pioneered by Julie Powell, which presented the kitchen as both a confessional and open mic night, a space where vulnerability and self-effacing humor could pave the way to potential genius and success (and a future cookbook deal).
From my perspective, it’s hard to say today who had a greater impact on food discourse and food media, Child or Powell. While Child inspired generations of home cooks to get serious about their kitchen endeavors, and professional cooks to begin sharing their stories on bigger platforms, it was Powell who threw the doors open to the possibility that truly anyone had the potential to become a voice in the culinary pantheon. Without “The Julia Project,” there might never have been food coverage on Instagram or TikTok, or the rise of multiple blog-to-book phenoms, or entire channels of food content that didn’t depend on a network television deal. Powell elevated the notion that a kitchen that wasn’t quite camera-ready, or a set of disembodied hands over a bubbling pot, could deliver a food story worth telling—or, as the woman who brought them both perspectives together once said, that “everything is copy.”
The Child-Powell case study brings us to this topic again and again—what subjects in food are worth writing about, and for which audiences? As a former cookbook editor and museum educator, current scholar in food studies, and forever omnivore, I’ve found that the more I read and think about food, the more I realize that what made me fall in love with this subject in the first place was its foundational accessibility. Regardless of whatever job I’ve held, my answer to “why food?” has always remained the same—“because you can learn about it from the French fry up.” Anyone can come to care about and learn about this topic, no matter whether you start by way of McDonalds or a martini. (Side note: for my first post-vaccination meal at a restaurant in 2021, I only wanted an ice-cold martini and crispy hot French fries, two things I could not effectively replicate in my home kitchen. I ate both in a reverie, tipped my server 50%, and floated home on a cloud.)
So here’s my goal for what you’ll get in this newsletter—each Sunday, a rumination on what I’m thinking through and examining in the food world, always including the following items…
One long-form post, expanding on something that has brought me inspiration, provocation, or joy from the food world.
One recommendation of work by someone that’s enlivened my understanding or appreciation of the subject of food and cooking.
One description of something truly delicious I experienced (gustatory or otherwise). (See martini at top for latest suggestion.)
And one recipe that I’ll be saving for myself—and for you—for future exploration.
So yeah, watch this space. Whatever I’m serving up, I hope you enjoy it…