Killing The Reviewer?

Some musings, this afternoon, on the ethics of food blogging. 

Dianne Jacob, author of “Will Write For Food” (the book anyone interested in food writing should own), posted a piece this week entitled “5 Ways Bloggers Changed Restaurant Reviewing“. In the wake of Sam Sifton stepping down from his post as reviewer at the NYTimes, she observes a shift in restaurant/reviewer dynamics (both positive and negative) that she attributes to food bloggers. What are food bloggers doing differently?

According to Dianne: “Food bloggers don’t wait to review. Restaurants have opening events for bloggers. Bloggers are more likely to cover an event than to review the food. Blog write-ups are more positive than print reviews. Bloggers celebrate all kinds of restaurants, not just fine dining.” 

Before I comment, I want to say that Dianne’s posts are always thought provoking. Usually I agree with her, but even when I don’t I appreciate her clarity, opinion, and commitment to discourse. (She’s also brilliant at responding to comments.) In this case, I agree that a shift has occurred but I’m not sure to what degree these generalizations about food bloggers are the cause.  I’m pretty sure that Sifton didn’t step down because of Yelpers and bloggers. But, the piece did make me question my role in the shift.

As queen of my small corner of the internet, The Second Lunch, am I a culprit? Do I commit blogging sins? Ethical blunders? Have I unintentionally axed Sifton when I write about Ma Po Tofu in Belmont?

I like to eat out, and I like to write about my experiences. Writing about a good experience extends the pleasure of the event, and is in itself a little hedonistic. Nobody pays me to write about bad experiences – so I usually don’t – but I recognize this is probably a mistake on my part. Some of my favorite pieces by other writers are negative reviews. Writing honest distaste is a craft in itself.

For a long time, I avoided writing about any restaurants or products because I didn’t want to offend anyone. I wasn’t sure that it was “fair” to write about something that I’ve only experienced once or twice, and frankly, I didn’t want to get un-invited to a future event because of a negative slant in my posts. I used to be much more snarky on my personal blog, and I’ve held myself back in this slightly more public space by an invisible standard I’ve been trying to set here. An erroneous standard, I believe. Why should I be afraid of my experiences swaying an audience? Some people are more critical in print than they are in person. I’m the opposite. I’m never afraid to speak my mind to someone in person. (My closest friends are chuckling at the understatement.) Now, people who I’ve never met read this blog. I know they do, because somewhere along the line I started obsessively checking my Google Analytics and Feedburner, sigh. As more people started reading, I committed a sin: I tried to be someone I’m not. I held back because I was afraid. I denied myself the experience of writing because I didn’t want to offend anyone by being myself. Yes, I understand this is counter-intuitive. And it made for some terribly boring writing.

Which brings me to my first goal in this space: becoming a better writer. What makes a good writer? Practice. Let’s face it, I don’t have the time or financial assets to practice writing traditional print-style reviews. And in order to become a good writer, you have to write what you know. So sometimes this means that I write about a place that just opened, or an event that I’ve been invited to. I’d love to write about my meal at Per Se, but I can’t afford that. I’d love to write long form pieces, but a blog isn’t really the ideal space to write 3000 words. So I write about my little experiences. I could write these pieces and file them away for thirty years, or rip them up because they aren’t good enough, but the internet allows me to self-publish. Publishing here motivates me to work harder at my writing.

My second goal? Being part of a community. I’m not sure that someone who publishes reviews of restaurants in a major publication feels the same sense of community as those who write (and read) food blogs. Traditional media has long relegated the writer to a lonely position. The Dining & Wine section doesn’t offer space for comments. When I write a post, I’d like to think that I’m offering a reader an opportunity to live vicariously and encouraging discussion. I like reading and responding to comments. I like the conversation that spills off the blogs and onto Twitter. I like the fact that I’ve met so many people because of this space.

As a part of the community, I feel obligation to both my readership and society at large. I was interested to read one of Dianne’s responses in the comments of her post: “If your sympathy is on the side of the restaurant, you are not representing your readers.” While I agree that traditional reviewing requires you to be on the side of the reader, as a blogger I also have a relationship to the food world in its entirety, including restaurant owners, chefs, authors, etc.

Who am I writing for? Unlike a traditional reviewer, I’m writing for myself as much as (and sometimes more than) I’m writing for a reader. My blog is a place for self-discovery. 

What about anonymity? I’m not anonymous, because I want to interact with members of the community. I want to learn. When I take photos, I’m taking them for myself and for my readers. I understand ethics, and reasons why one might want to conduct an anonymous review, but I submit that so many people have the desire to share things publicly now that a blogger wielding a fancy DSLR will rarely affect the quality of the meal. Bloggers are now required by law to disclose freebies, and I when I read about a free meal a blogger received, I take that into account – just as I take into account the fact that a professional reviewer is often being paid to eat at a restaurant, and doesn’t feel the sting as much as someone who has to shell out the cash on their own. (Although this is changing as more print-media reviewers are seeing major budget cuts).

Accepting freebies? A few years ago I was at a dinner with Dianne (same one!) and her husband Owen. Owen worked as a professional technology reviewer, and told me (to my surprise) that reviewers must return test products as part of an ethical standard. I think this is changing. I don’t find it to be an ethical conundrum to accept free products. I just don’t.

And how about other food bloggers influencing my actions? The bloggers who intrigue me are the ones who don’t gush, who write thoughtful pieces, and who seek a wide variety of personal experiences. As a reader, I’m wary of those who constantly shill for free products and PR events, but I don’t discount them automatically because they accepted something free. You read enough crap and you very quickly learn to skip over the fluff, and seek out the good stuff. Earlier this week Jen at Tiny Urban Kitchen put up a mini-review of Clover, a restaurant in Harvard Square I’ve been meaning to try. The review wasn’t glowing, but it was positive. The photos were excellent (most in-print publications can’t afford to have so many high quality photos in their articles). When my friend Amanda texted me at 8:30 in the morning letting me know that there were *free cider donuts* at Clover I sprinted out of bed. A blogger had planted the seed, and yes, I succumbed to a freebie.

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments, but keep it civil please!  I don’t want to have to reach out from my sovereign territory and hit someone with a stick. But I can! Because I’m a blogger!

So my questions for you: a) Do you write about restaurants? Why? Are you “reviewing”? b) Do you accept freebies? Have any qualms? c) Who are you writing for? 

Shio Japanese Restaurant

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We all have one type of food we crave no matter what our mood is, and for me, that’s Japanese food. New England isn’t exactly the hotbed of Japanese cuisine, but when I was growing up, we happened to have a good little Japanese restaurant in town called Sakura. I regularly would beg for dinner out so I could eat miso soup and California rolls.

Over time I learned there were more exciting options than California rolls, and soon I moved onto Nabeyaki Udon (a rich broth filled with thick, chewy noodles and seafood and vegetables served in a cast iron soup bowl) and Beef Negima, (thinly sliced beef wrapped around scallions). I finally moved onto the Omakase chefs’ favorite sushi – and “please, hold the cooked shrimp”, because I wasn’t interested, thank you.

Sakura closed after I moved to San Francisco. I was sad to hear the news, certainly, but more out of nostalgia than any real loss. It wasn’t the best Japanese food, yet it was the place that opened my heart to an entire regional cuisine. However, I found out another Japanese restaurant opened in its absence when my mother started texting me photos of elaborate sushi rolls. It was called Shio.

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Fast forward to my big return to the Seacoast. I’ve been going on the gastronomic tour these past few weeks, eating at all the old haunts, and making a list of the new ones.

The first time we tried to visit Shio – on a Tuesday – they were closed and I had what we call affectionately in Yiddish, a “kanipshin”, which roughly translates to a big ole’ hissy fit. Two weeks in my hometown away from the big city and I really needed my Japanese food!!  When triple digit temperatures actually made the idea of raw fish in a blissfully air conditioned environment a necessity, we came back two days later.

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Shio is located in a half empty strip mall in Portsmouth, right on Route 1. This isn’t the type of place you’d be casually charmed to stop in after strolling by, you kind of have to know about it. If you aren’t the type of person immediately put off by neon sushi signs and a “Big Lots” next door, you’ll get rewarded by a pleasant looking restaurant interior. Shio has nice big tables, a sushi bar, and traditional tatami rooms, where you can take off your shoes and sit on cushions. The evening crowd is mainly families, although we saw a few dates, and it can get quite busy.

Let’s face it, it’s not Nobu, but the food is a notch above your New England neighborhood sushi joint. It filled my sushi cravings, used relatively high quality fish that wasn’t bland, and took greater care in plating. They took pride in their food.

Being a tee-totaler of late, we didn’t order any drinks (I know, shame on me), but I did observe a fairly well stocked bar, and some excellently kitschy cocktail umbrellas.

P1060792 Seafood Yaki Soba with Shrimp and Scallops ($14.00)

In addition to sushi, there is a good selection of cooked food made in the kitchen. Having grown up with a sibling that wouldn’t have touched raw fish with a ten foot pole, the relative variety of non-sushi options makes this more family friendly for those who haven’t yet hopped on the bandwagon. Even my grandmother eats sushi, then again, she also has a Mac and goes to Zumba classes.

At dinner, my father ordered the Yaki Soba which was unctuous, not too salty, and generously topped with seafood. The Dumpling Soup was a warming bowl of rich mushroom broth with little meat dumplings, scallions, mushrooms and vegetables (and was much better than the miso soup). Devon’s Chicken Katsu was lightly breaded with a great crunch, and avoided the typical katsu pitfall of being too greasy. It also tasted superb when I ate the leftovers at 11:45 pm, and was awarded my extra stamp of approval.

P1060794 Chicken Katsu ($13) lightly breaded and fried chicken cutlets

Although I’m not a “roll person”, the selections at Shio are creative and slightly more exciting than your average selection, using more traditional Japanese condiments such as plum paste, spicy kampyo (squash), or non-traditional additions such as cilantro, mango and fresh chile. My mother had the Rob Roll, which I’m fairly sure was named after someone named Rob, but immediately brought to mind the Urban Dictionary connotation of being very good at something unexpectedly after drinking a lot of booze.

P1060795    Rob Roll (11.95) Spicy crunchy yellow tail and avocado, topped with salmon roe, caviar, and fresh chili pepper. Side of Saba (Mackerel) sashimi ($4.50).

I ordered my favorite fish preparation, Chirashi, which is assorted sashimi scattered over a bed of sushi rice. This rendition was quite satisfying, and I found myself enjoying everything except for the imitation crab, which I could generally do without. I particularly enjoyed the variety of tsukemono (pickles), there were three beyond the standard pickled ginger.

P1060799  Shio’s Style Chirashi ($20) Assorted raw fish, eel, ikura, caviar and Japanese pickles on seasoned rice.

In the name of impartial research, Devon and I actually decided to go back to Shio for lunch, as the specials were quite reasonably priced. Interestingly, while the typical Seacoast lunch crowd is made up of women, we were surprised to see a crowd of mostly business men in button downs and slacks – clearly Shio is the place to be for a work lunch. Unfortunately, one of said businessmen spent twenty five minutes prodding his sushi with a chopstick, and left abruptly, but not before rudely telling the staff he was in a hurry, and wasting his entire meal. In his defense, the asshat convention was probably about to start without him.

Lunch specials were served with miso soup and salad, both of which I could have done without. While I generally like carrot ginger dressing, serving it ontop of iceberg lettuce pains me.  Devon ordered the sushi platter, which came with five pieces of sushi and a California roll, and I ordered the Sushi and Sashimi combo.

sushi platter Sushi Platter ($9.50) Five assorted sushi, and a California roll.

sushi sashimi combo Sushi Sashimi Combo ($12.50) Four sushi, six sashimi, and a California roll.

Although admittedly not as good as my Chirashi at the previous meal, the sushi was flavorful and lunch was a pretty good deal all around. Overall, two solid meals, a decent price, a lucky cat statue, and we will be back.

paper cranes

Shio Japanese Restaurant
2454 Lafayette Road
Portsmouth, NH

www.shiorestaurant.com

Shio on Urbanspoon

Review of Marcia Gagliardi’s ‘The Tablehopper’s Guide to Dining and Drinking in San Francisco’

Tablehopper

Before I even moved to San Francisco, I started plotting where I would eat. I picked up (and annotated) a Zagat guide, I read through a copy of  ‘The Cheap Bastard’s Guide to San Francisco’, I started reading Yelp reviews, all in addition to the 30 or so San Francisco bloggers I was relying on to steer me in the right direction. I was armed with a long list before I ever stepped foot on California soil.

And then, as soon as I got here, I discovered a great new addition to my growing arsenal:  ‘The Tablehopper’ newsletter, written by the ever charming Marcia Gagliardi. First of all, I should start by saying that this woman knows how to eat.

Her weekly newsletters are a combination of local reviews, restaurant news, food news, food gossip and events, and numerous ideas to fill your calendar and to-do list. I read it partially because it gives great advice, partially because it makes me giggle, and partially because I’m a masochist and it’s impossible not to be completely jealous of her gastronomic adventures.

And now she’s in print!

Enter Marcia Gagliardi’s new book: ‘The Tablehopper’s Guide to Dining and Drinking in San Francisco – Find the Right Spot for Every Occasion’. Thanks to Ten Speed Press, I got my hands on an early copy of this book, and it became immediately clear how useful it is.

For anyone (like myself) who decides on restaurants specifically based on emotions or occasions, this book is organized by particularly useful sections including:

  • Dinner with Your Parents (Conservative or Cool Ones)
  • Offbeat or Ethic Group Dinner Locations
  • Hip, but not a Total Scene (Slightly Spendy)
  • Co-worker Birthday Lunch
  • Good (or Hip) Spots for Solo Dining
  • Hungover (Can’t Leave Bed)
  • There are also 1, 2, and 3-day Itineraries for those visiting the city, and sections organized by food type, such as Pho or Dim Sum

Now, when I’m looking for inexpensive vegetarian, gluten-free, a place to take my grandmother, or the perfect burger, I have all the information right at my fingertips, and it fits easily in my bag. This is a great gift for anyone living in San Francisco, or anyone planning a gastronomic trip to San Francisco.

Tablehopper Cover

Follow Marcia on Twitter (while you are at it, follow me on twitter) or subscribe to the Tablehopper newsletter to get tasty ideas for bay area dining every week in your inbox.

Or come visit Marcia, (and me!) in a few weeks here at Omnivore books:

Wednesday March 24th, 6pm, free Book Signing at Omnivore Books 3885 Cesar Chavez St. at Church, San Francisco. Andrew Mariani of Scribe will be pouring his delicious 2008 Pinot Noir, Carneros, Sonoma. Yes, there will be free wine. Who doesn’t love free wine?

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The Tablehopper’s Guide to Dining and Drinking in San Francisco: Find the Right Spot for Every Occasion by Marcia Gagliardi; Chronicle Books, 230 pages.

Tablehopper Spine

Dinner at Ad Hoc: Our Temporary Relief From Hunger

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My mom was in town this weekend, and this being her first trip to San Francisco in over twenty five years meant only one thing –  GLORIOUS FEASTING! My parents are to thank for my love of fine dining. Some of my earliest memories are eating at great restaurants – as a toddler I whisked away into the kitchen by smitten waiters on a trip to Germany, as a preschooler I impressed the kitchen staff in Montreal and Paris with my french ordering skills and passionate love of escargot, who often sent me Amuse and samples of desserts as rewards. Then there the day that I asked for the *second* lobster with my family in Ogunquit, Maine (I was five). And those few years of obsession with filet mignon before the age of ten ensured that I wasn’t a cheap date – but I can’t thank them enough for indulging me.

So when my mom finally planned her trip out here, it was my greatest pleasure to plan a weekend of voracious eating and drinking some of my favorites in the city. This included:

:: Coffee at Philz – one of the best caffeine injections in the city (I favor the Mocha Tesora)

:: Salted Caramel Ice Cream with Fudge (berry sorbet for me) at Bi-Rite Creamery

:: Shrimp and pork wonton soup, crispy imperial rolls, and grilled tiger prawns over rice noodles at the Slanted Door

:: a Macaron from Miette (I chose pistachio, she had rose)

:: a trip to Cheeseboard Pizza in Berkeley for some live jazz, the last heirloom tomato pizza of the season, and a gingerbread cookie

:: An animal style cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla shake from In-N-Out.

The most exciting meal however, in retrospective honor of his new cookbook, was an impromptu trip to Thomas Keller’s “casual eatery” Ad Hoc, in Yountville. Or shall I say, and Ad Hoc trip to Ad Hoc? Sorry guys, I had to. Ad Hoc is the perfect spot to eat Keller’s phenomenal food, with limited negative effect on your piggy bank. The four course meal comes in at $49 a person, and you certainly don’t leave hungry. Our dinner at Ad Hoc was one of the few meals I’ve had in the past several years that I’ve enjoyed so thoroughly from start to finish, down to the smallest details. The food was impeccable, the waitstaff (all of whom have been on staff for two years or more) were kind, attentive, and with good humor, and our fellow patrons were all entertaining as well.

Ad Hoc Menu

Our first course was Polpettini Soup – with veal meatballs, broccolini, celery root, pickled red onions, sweet carrot coins, and a crostini with bellwether farm’s ricotta on top. To say I’m a soup lover would be an understatement, and this was perhaps my favorite course of the evening. The broth was rich and well developed, and the meatballs were shining stars – moist, balanced in flavor, texture, and really perfect in every way. Shucks, just thinking about this makes me tear up with longing.

Polpettini Soup

Next came the Roast Colorado Lamb Leg, topped with a mint salsa verde, alongside romanesco potatoes, with a side of black and pearl barley, with braised autumn squash, pumpkin seeds and brussels sprouts. Lets talk about this barley dish. It was texturally exciting. It was well balanced flavor. If only everyone could eat brussels sprouts like these ones, I swear they would be the nations’ favorite vegetable. I’m going to try to recreate this one at home, because it’s a killer combination.

Ad Hoc Barley

And the lamb and potatoes – perfect. Perfectly cooked. The potatoes, oh god the potatoes – crisp on the outside, perfectly soft on the inside. I know it’s rude to stare at other customers, but one of my favorite moments of the evening was watching the woman across the way eat her first potato cube – and a wave of complete ecstasy passed over her face, her eyes widened, and it was like she had experienced culinary nirvana. After further inquiry, we learned that the technique for these involved a primary fry in peanut oil, a secondary fry in canola, and a final treatment of butter and herbs. Well, that explains it!

Ad Hoc Lamb

The cheese board was a trio of cheese – including a sheepsmilk cheese, the Humboldt Fog (in the middle), and possibly old chatham blue, although, at this point I was still so enamored by the potatoes that I promptly forgot when we were told… The cheeses came with marcona almonds and Marshall’s farm blackberry honey – which I ended up eating on the cheese, almonds, bread, and stirring into my jasmine almond tea.

Ad Hoc Cheese Course

Last but not least, came dessert – brownie trifle with huckleberry sauce and vanilla diplomat cream. A light and flavorful ending, that left me completely fulfilled. Leave it to my camera to focus on the surroundings and not those perfect brownie bits, but I thought I’d include this anyway.

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We were sad to leave Ad Hoc, and have been dreaming about it all weekend. Fortunately, the Ad Hoc cookbook is out, and filled with brilliant recipes, beautiful images, and plenty of inspiration for my own table until I can get back to eat at theirs. I’ve been reading through it at work, and it, like the restaurant, is not to be missed. It’s the perfect gift to yourself or any food lover on your list.