Must food writers be able to cook well?

[amytraverso]

I know a couple of very good food writers (one won a Beard for restaurant criticism) who don't really cook. They could pull a meal together if they had to, but they're not all that interested or skilled.

So it got me thinking...how necessary is it to be an expert cook if you're going to be a food writer? Obviously if you want to be writing cookbooks or recipe stories, that's one thing. But what if you want to just write travel pieces and restaurant stories?

I think a person is in a better position to judge when they have some first-hand experience at whatever it is they're judging. If I understand how to make a flan, I'll be able to figure out whether a restaurant flan is good or not, and why. So when I'm not writing, I cook and cook and always try to build up my skills.

On the other hand, not all dance critics are themselves dancers. How do you all rate yourselves as cooks, and how important do you think it is?

Amy

Edited May 6, 2004 by amytraverso (log)

[alacarte]

there's truth to saying that you should write about what you want to know as well as what you know.

so no, I don't think all writers need to cook.

many food writers who cover restaurants do so because they are interested in the personalities of chefs and restaurateurs, the business aspects, and the dining experience (read: eating and presentation, not cooking) rather than the food prep skills.

that said, food writers who write about cooking and individual ingredients should know how to cook.

[Fat Guy]

I think the most important thing is for a writer covering the restaurant beat to be an experienced diner. The inherently comparative nature of writing about restaurants makes it extremely difficult for a neophyte diner to write serious reviews or articles about restaurants. We don't look for film critics to be able to make films, we also don't particularly care if they understand the technical aspects of filmmaking although that knowledge can be somewhat helpful in some reviews, but we absolutely demand that they have a deep reservoir of film-viewing knowledge.

I don't think someone covering the restaurant beat needs to have an expert knowledge of cooking, such as from a culinary-school education or time spent in professional kitchens. Being totally uninterested in cooking? That's a little odd for someone who devotes so much time to eating the end-result of cookery. But expert knowledge or even deep amateur knowledge, no, I don't think that's necessary. If you start developing that level of knowledge, you actually have to work to keep it in check because otherwise you become like a film critic who obsesses about lighting and cinematography instead of focusing on the story and acting. It can be helpful to have technical knowledge of the subject, but writing about restaurant meals is not particularly related to writing about cooking.

I think there was a time, though, when a higher level of cooking knowledge was more relevant to restaurant reviewing: back when most fine-dining restaurants were working from the same set of recipes, the differences among them often had to do with who did a better job roasting a chicken. Knowledge of technique, in that instance, could be particularly helpful.

[ned]

This is an open question in every arena of expression and I think the answer is yes or no but not definitively either. Baudelaire, one of visual art's most famous critics was a poet but not an artist. Peter Schjeldahl, once of the Village Voice (where he did his best work IMO) now at the New Yorker and an excellent critic of the visual arts is/was a poet but never an artist. Maybe the qualification for a critic/ commentator of any medium whether it be food, art or music is not that he be or not be a practicioner of that medium but rather that he be a poet.

Calvin Trillin loudly proclaims his ignorance in the kitchen. Jeffrey Steingarten's process demands that he know his way around the kitchen. Both capitalize on the perspective that their ample bodies of knowledge and talents afford them. I've just finished reading Robb Walsh's fabulous "Are You Really Going to Eat That?" as well as his "Traveling Jamaica With Knife, Fork & Spoon: A Righteous Guide to Jamaican Cookery". I don't know whether he can cook and don't care. What occurs to me with these three lumped up here: they all have unreasonable curiosities that they've dedicate themselves to satisfying. It may a little tricky to take this perspective if you're assigned a restaurant to review every week. Too narcissistic maybe. I think it would be a welcome change. Do we want a detached expert? I thought that might be the thing but now I think what we want is a fully attached expert. . . whose interest errs on the side of the he poetics of food.

Edited May 6, 2004 by ned (log)

[a-nomad]

Just putting in my two cents ...

I don't believe they have to (or need to) be able to cook well themselves.

But I do feel it is important to have a good understanding of food and the process of cooking.

I tend to think of criticizing restaurants in the same light as criticizing art. The artist (or chef in this case) may be able to create this magnificent piece. But if he/she has no one to enjoy or really appreciate it, it will go usually go unrecognized for what it is and never get the credit it deserves.

So if you think of the critic (or even any diner who appreciates a good meal) at the one is "viewing" (and tasting) the piece of art, it only makes sense that the more he knows about this type and style of art (and what goes into it), the more he can and will appreciate the final result.

But does he have to be able to paint a similar masterpiece himself/herself to appreciate it.

No, not necessarily.

[amytraverso]

That's interesting. I expected the answers to be more evenly split.

I agree that dining experience is probably more important than cooking experience if you want to review restaurants for a living. And if you can make a living as a literary food writer, such as Calvin Trillin or M.F.K., your abilities as a stylist are far more relevant than your skills as a cook. But how many of us will ever be master stylists?

Most of the actual for-pay food writing work out there falls into categories of recipe stories, dining criticism, and travel/dining features (I'm thinking of newspapers and magazines), so obviously you're going to have more opportunities as a writer if you can develop and test recipes.

I agree with you, Steven, that without a fine dining "cannon," classical French training isn't as relevant as it once was. At the same time, I tend to trust writers more when I know they can cook...whether I'm assigning a travel piece or a recipe story. Of course, if the writing blows me out of the water, that's another matter. But there are a lot of would-be food writers who seem to see the profession as a lifestyle choice. If I know someone has spent time in the kitchen, then I know he or she is really serious. I also know that they're better equipped to understand why food is or isn't good. This isn't a fixed rule for me, but it often proves true. And I do trust reviewers more when they exhibit an understanding of technique. Doesn't mean they have to be cooking all the time, but they at least have to know how it's done.

[russ parsons]

two thoughts on this:

1) i think you have to be passionately interested in a subject before you can write well about it. i can't imagine being passionately interested in food without having done some cooking. that certainly doesn't mean in a professional kitchen, nor does it mean formal training. But cooking is not brain surgery, not even classical piano playing. the demands of technique are not so high that someone who is interested couldn't master enough basics that they could put together a good meal. i wouldn't trust a food writer who can't make a good vinaigrette.

2) as a writer, you should think of your expertise as a kind of iceberg--only the tip should show. remember that no research is ever wasted, even if it doesn't show up explicitely in the story. i'm convinced that research has a "ghost life" --that even when it's not in a story, the information and the gathering of it informs the story and is discernable to the reader. some people can write very simply and you instinctively trust that they know what they're talking about. other people throw a lot of facts and figures at you and still you're left wondering.

[marlena spieler]

But and this is a big but, if a food writer is writing about food and devising recipes, if they aren't fantastic cooks (as well as interesting writers) i don't think they should be writing.

i've eaten at food writers houses, some of them legendary, and they may have been good writers, indeed some are really good, but the food: ech! i'm naming no names, but it was a bit of a shock.

on the other hand, if one doesn't writer recipes, and doesn't write about food in a way that needs deep culinary understanding, then dining experience, food knowledge, and appreciation are far better skills.

Marlena

[alacarte]

i wouldn't trust a food writer who can't make a good vinaigrette.

word.

I think I need to make this my new signature.

[russ parsons]

But and this is a big but, if a food writer is writing about food and devising recipes, if they aren't fantastic cooks (as well as interesting writers) i don't think they should be writing.

this is certainly true and i should have made that point. it's just that there are so many ways of writing about food these days that recipe writing is only one of them. and maybe even a fairly minor one (speaking as someone who does it himself). i'm perfectly happy with good writers who aren't great cooks and so they collect great recipes from interesting (and hopefully unusual) sources. as long as they're attributed as such.

[marlena spieler]

But and this is a big but, if a food writer is writing about food and devising recipes, if they aren't fantastic cooks (as well as interesting writers) i don't think they should be writing.

this is certainly true and i should have made that point. it's just that there are so many ways of writing about food these days that recipe writing is only one of them. and maybe even a fairly minor one (speaking as someone who does it himself). i'm perfectly happy with good writers who aren't great cooks and so they collect great recipes from interesting (and hopefully unusual) sources. as long as they're attributed as such.

Oh, yes, Russ, if someone is a good writer, and also has the good taste to know how to choose other peoples good recipes for publication......

then that is good good good. sometimes the best.

though i feel constructing good recipes shouldn't be seen as the minor part of food writing it is religated to these days. a good well contructed recipe can be magic for the reader who picks the recipe up, takes it to the kitchen, and voila: gets this wonderful thing to eat and feed those he/she loves.

[ingridsf]

Since I just said this on another thread:

"As for what makes a good writer of any kind, food or anything else: Write. Read. Repeat. For as long as it takes. Writing improves with practice. Doesn’t matter how you get it done or why – some things help, like talent, a private income and emotional support, but don’t limit yourself by falling for imaginary rules about process or life-style. Care about your subject, must share your vision with the world, really need some popcorn money for the movies? Whatever makes you get the writing done is what makes a good writer."

Perhaps this is too curt. I'll offer this: Trillin's pieces (and MFKF et al) follow the same literary principles of a good story: A narrative arc that results in some kind of transformation -- with or without a recipe.

Ingrid

[Daniel Rogov]

I think it is necessary to distinguish between two categories of professionals - the food writer and the restaurant or food critic.

Within the category of food writers are two types of people - those whose task includes the presentation of recipes and those whose writing is more of "color" pieces. The person presenting recipes (even if those recipes have come from supposedly great chefs) should be prepared to test every recipe printed either in their own kitchen or in a professional kitchen at their disposal. Even the recipes passed on by great chefs can have mistakes and must be tested. A recipe that is untested by the writer should remain a recipe unpublished. No question but that such writers should be talented cooks. The individual writing color pieces (chef interviews, previews of new food items released to the market) need not have that talent but should have a good palate and the ability to discriminate between new and existing products as to their qualities.

The restaurant critic need not him/herself be a good cook but they must have a deep knowledge of what happens in the kitchen, of ingredients and how they are combined, and of all that happens as a dish makes its way from raw products to a masterpiece, a catastrophe or something in-between. The critic also needs a great deal of experience in dining out in order to make comparisons. Criticism should never be based on personal likes or dislikes, but only on comparison to given standards and to know those standards dining out on a regular basis is critical. One cannot for example, criticize a Bearnaise sauce unless one knows how that sauce is made, what the limits are on which it can be called by that name, and the standards of a well made sauce.

If I wanted to be a true curmudgeon (which I can sometimes be), I would also say that the restaurant critic needs at least some knowledge of psychology, sociology, history, philosophy and the arts in general, for all of those are an integral part of the dining experience.

More than this, the critic must know how do divorce his/her personal likes and dislikes from the realities of those standards. One cannot write a critique of a resturant based on how personable the chef may be or of how friendly the critic is with the owner. Of course here we are talking about the question of ethics......

Oh yes - the critic must also be an optimist. People who do not gain great pleasure from dining out should not be critics, and people who do not have the hope, every time on enterng a restaurant that this will be "the meal of the week/month/year/decade" should restrict themselves to dining at McDonalds.

Best,

Rogov

Edited May 6, 2004 by Daniel Rogov (log)

[Lesley C]

I work as a restaurant critic and I can't make a vinaigrette. But I can make just about everything else (maybe I'm just too picky about the quality of the vinaigrette).

I went to professional cooking school for three years, worked as a professional pastry chef for ten, and taught professional cooking for four years before becoming a food writer. Has it helped me become a better food writer? Yes, of course. But I also dined out in many restaurants from a very early age and came from a family of excellent home cooks. What my professional background gave me is confidence, confidence to really criticize when I have to and praise when merited. And I didn't have to build that up, I had it from Day One. I also know my stuff, so when faced with a brilliant chef, I like to think I know that I can tell the reader why he or she is so good quite specifically without either having to shove my knowledge down the reader’s throat (i.e. show off) or cover my lack of knowledge with so many turns of phrase (a common trick used by "writers" who turn their interests to food).

I also think it enriches the writing. Again, as Russ said, not by spilling over with detailed commentary. But the right smart remark from a pro can really tie a review together, as much as a glaring mistake from an amateur can blow his or her credibility. And I see those all the time.

[ingridsf]

I have to get back on a soapbox here for a moment and point to the "writers" part of the question. Much interesting stuff here about content (food). But in my experience, many folks look for reasons not to write -- don't know enough, no time, their opinions don't matter, pay sucks. One of the biggest: I'll never be one of the greats so why bother?

Bosh!

1. Every writer sucks at writing at the beginning and for a long time.

2. Facing the crappy first draft -- not as bad as it sounds.

3. If you keep writing, you will improve.

4. In order to keep writing for a long time, it's highly unlikely you'll write about stuff you're bored by. In other words, passion is a highly efficient self-selection element.

5. If you genuinely care about your writing, you will educate yourself about your subject, or write about something else.

6. Maybe you're not a master stylist but your work may well give a great deal of pleasure.

What I want to know from the many wonderful posters here: What made you want to WRITE about food, versus photograph, teach, choreograph interpretive dance about it? What has made you perfect your literary craft in service of food?

Ingrid

***EDIT: You know, this is really not about the question as posted. Sorry about that. Never mind, as Emily Litella would say.

Edited May 6, 2004 by ingridsf (log)

[godito]

I think they don't need to be professional cooks. They don't even need to be great cooks at home. But they should understand the craft enough to talk about it. Not that they should go to cooking schools, but at least do research. If they want to write about the byaldi they got at a restaurant they should know what it is. Also, if they see byaldi at a restaurant, they should know what it is before they order it. Moreover, if the Chef doesn't give thm byaldi when they get the plate, they should be able to warn the readers about truth in menu.

Yes, they should know enough about cooking to make educated comments, but being a great cook is not a requisite

[Fat Guy]

Defining the job gets us a long way towards determining what the most relevant training for that job might be. A restaurant reviewer or a food writer who focuses on restaurants does a lot of things in pursuit of that job. Cooking is not one of them. Writing about how to cook is not one of them. The connection, on the cooking front, is an attenuated one: you are writing about the end-result of cooking. Does knowing how to cook really make one better able to do that in such a way as to be helpful to the reader?

A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. Some basic training in cooking can make one more doctrinaire, more likely to criticize a vinaigrette for not being like the one taught in class. Saucemaking today is so diverse and complex, there's no way to master it all unless you're James Peterson and you devote your life to it. So to me the important thing is not to know how to make 1 version of a sauce but, rather, to have eaten 100 variations of a sauce in 100 different restaurants, so you can compare it and place it in its context.

On occasion I dine out with restaurant chefs. Their comments on food are always interesting and usually irrelevant to anything I'd write. They tend to focus on minutiae, rather than the overall impact of a dish. If you work for a high-end corporate-owned restaurant and you're the chef or one of the top sous-chefs, you may participate in a dining voucher program, where every X number of months you can spend a couple of hundred dollars on a restaurant meal as part of your professional development. Often these programs come with strings attached: in order to get your reimbursement you need to submit a written report about your meal. I've been e-mailed many such reports, and I have yet to see one that contains particularly publishable material -- and I don't mean writing style, I mean content.

I think it's always helpful to hold these theoretical discussions up against some real-world examples. Leaving aside the world of writing about cooking-and-recipes, which I thought had been cut out of this discussion since post number one, who have been the best food writers of the past 15-20 years whose work has focused on restaurant-related topics? Have they been good cooks or not? And if they have been good cooks can we point to specific examples of elements of their writing that have been improved by their knowledge of cooking?

To invert the question, is it important for cooks and chefs to be experienced diners? In the real world, most of them aren't.

[slkinsey]

I honestly have to say that I don't really see why the writers cooking skill comes into play at all. I mean, there are plenty of sports writers who are not and have never been athletes at all, never mind in the sport about which they are writing. God, if that were a requirement, can you even imagine what would be written about boxing?

All this is to say that I think there is a big difference between being a writer who understands food and who understands cooking, and being a writer who is a good cook. I wouldn't think that a sufficiently skilled writer would even need to be a good cook to write a book about how to be a good cook, so long as he/she had the necessary information. After all, plenty if not most of the best teachers of certain crafts are not the best practitioners of that craft... else they would be professional practitioners instead of professional teachers.

[balmagowry]

I think Daniel has hit upon the dichotomy I wanted to raise about the definition of a food writer. (BTW, Welcome, Daniel! I shall desire your more acquaintance, sir. I am indebted to you for your "Forgiving the Borgias," which made for marvelous back-story underpinnings when I was researching and writing "Dinner with the Borgias.") I would disagreee with one point, though: I think that under certain circumstances it is quite all right to publish an untested recipe, as long as it is accompanied by full disclosure. "This recipe quoted by permission from [xx]; the author apologizes for not having tested it personally because [yy]." That's clumsy, but one can hope that the circumstances themselves will dictate something more graceful or amusing. Now of course I am blanking on what I might consider a good illustration, but I can certainly see where full disclosure might also apply in the case of a food writer who is not a cook. "The author apologizes for not having tested this in person because of her well-known propensity for screwing up in the kitchen; hence her gratitude and admiration to [xx], who developed this recipe and who clearly does not share that propensity!" Or something along those lines.

So no, for purposes of writing about restaurants - or those of my personal hobby horse, i.e. writing about food in history and literature - I do not think it is necessary to be a cook oneself; I do think, however, that an understanding and a practical knowledge of cookery can greatly enrich one's perspective as a food writer. For those who have mentioned MFKF as a "literary" food writer - which indeed she was - need I remind you that some of her most lyrical and literate writing recounts her own cooking experiences?

OTOH, as mentioned up-thread, there are certainly some very fine food writers who do not cook, and I can't in conscience suggest that a knowledge of cookery would make them better food writers. As I said, there are food writers whose writing is enriched by their knowledge of cooking; but some food writing derives all the richness it can possibly use from other sources. Saki immediately springs to mind; no, he was not a food writer, as such, but in those stories which revolve around cooks and meals ("The Byzantine Omelette," "The Chaplet," etc.) he writes about food with a poetry, passion and humor that leave nothing to be desired. What a marvelous - if often devastating - restaurant critic he could have been!

And if memory serves, Dumas was not himself a cook; neither was Grimod; neither, to all intents and purposes, was Brillat-Savarin (though he apparently had some natural kitchen skills and understanding). And the Marquis de Curry sure wasn't. Conclusive, no?

A more complicated corollary to this question: if one is a food writer who cooks, or a cook who writes about food, does it matter how good a cook one is, or what kind of cook? And how much of the answer to that depends in turn on the exact type of writing one does? I am an instinctive mother's-knee-trained cook rather than a close follower of recipes; I know enough classic technique to get by and to improvise; I also know enough to know when I need to look something up, and I am lucky in having enough natural skill to be able to accomplish what I need to after so doing. By and large I think this has been a great help to me in studying/deciphering/translating/adapting the recipes of bygone eras, in which much of cookery shared those characteristics, and many critical details were so obviously common knowledge that no one bothered to write them down. (Favorite example: an 18th-c recipe for Frumenty which called quite specifically for a pint of cream, a blade of mace, a couple of other precisely measured ingredients that I disremember at the moment... and then said, "Then put in your wheat." The hilarity which followed in the Testing Kitchen is a story for another time.. but you see what I mean.) But it isn't always that simple.

Up until now some 98% of my writing about food has fallen into the format comprising a longish historic exploration (or in book form a less-ish long-ish headnote) culminating in a recipe which I have reconstructed, tested and written myself. (Major exception: the do-not-try-this-at-home poison recipes appended to the Borgia piece!) But I'm venturing now into areas where my skills may not be able to follow: the fact that I am not confident of being able to reproduce his more architectural works is certainly not going to stop me from translating, adapting, and writing about Careme. Should it? I don't think so. The trickier question is: how, and how much, will those skills and that practical knowledge which I do possess be able to inform and forward the work? Will they be relevant at all? I don't know. The only answer I can muster to that is, "I hope so."

They should, shouldn't they? If only in the back-story way that Russ talks about up-thread; even if unspoken and unused I like to think they lend a tacit sympathy to the work which is then somehow sensed by the reader. If one feels truly en rapport with one's subject... yes I do believe that comes across. One rarely sees the genuine article, though, and one of my worries is that in feeling that rapport I may be fooling myself as so many do (don't even get me started about Ian Kelly! or about the people who think themselves competent to complete the fragmentary work of Sayers, Austen, Bronte, Alcott... sorry, I'll stop now...), and just not know it. The only answer I can muster to that is, "I hope not." I sure as hell hope not.

[balmagowry]

A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.

[snip]

On occasion I dine out with restaurant chefs. Their comments on food are always interesting and usually irrelevant to anything I'd write. They tend to focus on minutiae, rather than the overall impact of a dish.

Yes! and yes again! And for that matter, sometimes a lot of knowledge can be a dangerous thing too. Several people have mentioned that a dance/art/sports critic need not be a practitioner of his topic; in my view not only need he not, he can actually be handicapped by too intimate a knowledge of the subject. After all, look at it from a business and marketing standpoint as well as an artistic one: at whom is all this stuff really directed? The consumer, that's who. The customer. The audience. The public. That's a pretty broad range, and it can comprise any number of levels of sophistication. But ultimately the vast majority of these people are going to be a lot less interested in the technical and esoteric than they are in whether or not the meal or the spectacle is pleasing to them. I don't think I could ever be a music/theatre/opera/dance critic, precisely because I know too much - much too much. My view of those things is tainted not only by the obvious, i.e. intimate practical knowledge of music, singing, dance, etc. but also by my experience as a director, stage manager, lighting designer, stagehand. Rare is the production of any kind that doesn't give me dozens of reasons to wince or gasp in the course of an act - reasons which are simply non-events to any audience member but me. Sometimes that gives me a rarefied appreciation that is denied to most people (oh damn, how snotty does all this sound?), but more often it can all-but-ruin an otherwise pleasurable experience. Why spoil it for the other 3,000 people in the house? If I had to I suppose I could distance myself from the technical knowledge that would get in the way of telling audiences what they really want to know; but where's the satisfaction in doing that?

I don't know exactly why this doesn't fully translate for me into writing about food. Shouldn't it follow that I'm equally incompetent-because-overqualified? Maybe in a way it does: certainly I would never trust myself as a restaurant reviewer. OTOH, certain specialized areas are fair game. I would never write theatre reviews for a regular audience; but I could write them for a designers' trade publication - an audience which could make good use of my arcane knowledge instead of being bored or embittered by it. I probably wouldn't be a good cookbook reviewer; but I consider myself competent to review Ian Kelly's book on Careme because the issue there is one of accuracy and comprehension - so again the special stuff I know becomes an asset and not a hindrance.

But it must be hard for some people, some people here on eG for example, to set aside their own sophistication as cooks and to speak to the you-should-pardon-the-expression masses in terms they can understand and benefit from.

Isn't it?

[alacarte]

Two more (semi-random) thoughts on this topic:

1. Think about how many cookbooks you've seen co-written by chefs and non-chef writers. Many chefs, while excellent cooks and recipe designers, are not good writers or interested in writing in general. Meanwhile, it can be helpful to have a non-chef writer on such a project because he/she will recognize what needs to be translated or simplified for a home cook. But that doesn't mean that the non-chef writer can be entirely inexperienced with cooking -- you need to know the language in order to translate.

2. As a writer, I find that I'm at a disadvantage in getting assignments sometimes because I don't have a professional cooking degree or prior experience working as a food professional. For example, Fine Cooking mag won't even consider non-food professionals for assignments.

[Lesley C]

OK, I slept on this one and I woke up this morning realizing just how utterly ESSENTIAL it is to be a good cook to be a good food writer – and I’m not talking a restaurant critic here, but food writer.

Food writing is not just limited to stories like Johnny Apple eating hot dogs in Chicago, Ruth Reichl writing about her mother, or Jeffrey Steingarten researching salt. NO, the majority of food writing involves recipes. Name all the top food writers today, and the legends of the past, and you are dealing with people who specialize in cookbooks and recipes -- and who really do know how to cook very well.

Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, Nigella Lawson, Jamie Oliver, Mark Bittman, Flo Braker, Sherry Yard, Nancy Sliverton, Nigel Slater, Martha Stewart, Marcella Hazan, Amanda Hesser, Anne Byrn, Shirley Corriher, Jeffrey Alford & Naomi Daguid, Judy Rogers, James Peterson, Marion Cunningham, Rose Levy Berambaum, Maida Heatter, Nick Malgieri, Jill Dupleix, Tamasin Day-Lewis, Anne Willan, Deborah Madison, Anne Lindsay, Alistair Little, Charlie Trotter, Mario Batali, Rick Bayless, Rose Gray & Ruth Rogers, Peggy Knickerbocker, Lynne Rosetto Kasper, Michelle Scicolone, John Taylor, Joan Nathan, Sally Schneider, Gary Rhodes, Alice Waters, Dorie Greenspan, Craig Claiborne, James Beard and so on and so on.

These are the BIG names in English-language food writing. Of course, there are the Alan Richmans, the Jeffrey Steingartens, the Calvin Trillins, and the Ed Behrs on the scene, and they are fabulous (and I'll bet me left foot most of them cook very well). But these writers are an elite minority. The majority of food writers aren't writing first person travel stories that focus on Singapore street food or the dangers of farmed salmon. The majority of top food writers are writing about how to make tonight's dinner.

[Daniel Rogov]

Several additions to my earlier thoughts. With regard to culinary criticism, it might be said that there are three kinds of critics - the naive, the knowledgeable and the phony. Naive criticism, which we all do when first starting out is perfectly acceptable for it implies that the writer liked or disliked something and then goes on to give the reasons for that. Fair enough, for here full disclosure is indeed made. The knowledgeable, who has built a repertoire of experience is capable of making more absolute statements, those based on comparisons to earlier dining experiences and to standards is certainly acceptable and is or should be the goal of the naive critic. The phonies on the other hand (and there are many of them in food and wine criticism) are never acceptable because they are basically betraying their clients (i.e. their readers) with false information.

With regard to those people writing about food (and sometimes food writers are also food critics), I agree with the earlier comment that one may publish an untested recipe so long as that is loudlyand clearly stated for the reader. The problem here is that too many writers do that too often and readers sooner or later realize that their recipes don't "work".

In my own case, one of the few untested recipes I gave was a classic for making whale steak that started out: "With the assistance of 12 strong men, crack the jawbone of a large blue whale". I forgive myself that lapse....

Best,

Rogov

[marlena spieler]

Daniel Rogov has brilliantly organized and succinctly stated all of the things about food writing that have been swirling around my head.

Distinguish between food writing and restaurant criticism, absolutely. Two such different things requiring different skills. Be an optimist: what a blindingly simple and obvious observation! (which I have never heard alluded to before).....

Marlena

[Daniel Rogov]

Nothing more egoistic than quoting oneself, but some might care to read my little article at: http://www.stratsplace.com/rogov/criticize_the_critics.html

Best,

Rogov