Fun With Carbs

I got an email this afternoon from Nick Caito, who’d seen a press release about J & D’s Bacon Air product (a spray can of bacon-flavored oxygen.)

I saw news stories on BaconAir circulate online for the next hour. And realized – come on, it’s March 31. That’s one hell of an April Fools’ joke. If it’s not, it sure sounds like one.

Inspiration struck, and quickly we took to Twitter to generate our own April Fools’ food jokes. See below. My Twitter friends are some brilliantly funny folks.

The theme of this week seems to be “blog haters.” You know, the people that come out of nowhere to post moronic comments on your blog posts in an attempt to drag you down.

Whether it’s a snarky comment on a minor error, an attack on your opinion or a general unconstructive critique regarding your content, it’s never fun. Especially when it gets personal.

The fact is, the interactive nature of the web allows for it, as much as that sucks sometimes. Anyone with an Internet connection has free reign to blast their opinions all over the place.

My first experience with reader comments came as a “housekeeper” of sorts. As an online producer for the Hartford Courant, I was there in 2007 when Tribune introduced the Topix forums to its sites. At first, I didn’t understand why reporters and editors so fiercely dreaded this system. But as soon as it launched, it was clear. These forums attracted such racist, classist, sexist and homophobic vitriol that I began to fear for the state of humanity. Much of the problem had to do with anonymity – users weren’t required to publish their real names or locations. And since the system was based on IP addresses, users that acted out enough to be “banned” were able to return as soon as they reset their modems.

Worst, these forums incensed reporters and columnists. Now their writing was completely open to critique, at a million times the intensity. People no longer had to pen letters to the editor, or even emails. And commenters’ attacks quickly became personal. I remember one reporter, pacing and cursing, because he’d made one small mistake and it turned into a field day for the forum. A columnist called my editor repeatedly, demanding that we track down a particularly awful commenter’s identity and address. Presumably so the columnist could confront them. (We didn’t have access to that information.)

My favorite story involved another columnist, who tracked down a poster after he hurled the ultimate offensive female slur at her. She quite literally called him out on it, phoning him at home to ask him to explain himself. (Something we all wish we could have done at some point.)

I didn’t fully understand their anger and frustration until I was writing full-time myself. If you’ve never done it, guess what. It’s hard to put yourself out there. Even if it’s a talent you’ve had your entire life, you’re always striving to tighten and streamline your sentence structure, use more descriptive language, make good connecting transitions and avoid cliches. But when you’ve finally put it all together, you’re really proud of the end product. I’ve been writing professionally for 10 years and I still get a thrill when I see my byline. (That is, if my first name is spelled correctly, which happens about 45% of the time.)

And when someone comes and shits all over it, it’s not fun. Never mind the fact that they’re probably angry about something else in their life, or they’re bored with no job or hobbies. Uncalled-for criticism sucks.

“Don’t sweat it,” say my more experienced reporter/blogger friends. And I know I should – and hopefully will – grow thicker skin. But it’s irritating nonetheless, and it adds nothing to society except ill will and frustration.

Writers are people, too. Whether you agree with their opinions/content choice/lifestyle or not, a little civility goes a long way.

I feel like I repeat myself a lot on this topic. But some situation always triggers this debate – whether an article in the media or a series of endless emails from PR companies – and I end up discussing it all over again.

Unlike other bloggers, I do not accept freebies. That means no products for review, no “comped” meals at restaurants, no gift certificates for future dining experiences as a “thank you” for writing about a restaurant, no trips, no free alcohol. I state this clearly on the “About Me” section of my blog, yet I still get weekly emails from food product companies and public relations representatives.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, people. But you’re putting me in a super-awkward spot. At the moment, I have a very close relationship with a mainstream media outlet as a regular contributing food writer and blogger, and  I need to abide by their ethical guidelines. And it is wildly uncomfortable to insist on paying for a meal that a chef or restaurant owner intended to serve as a courtesy. I do this dance about three times a month.

But even without that relationship, I would continue to follow these practices. I’m still paying for that j-school education, after all, where my professors consistently preached the importance of staying impartial and unbiased. As I’ve stated previously, one of my professor maintained that it was unethical to take anything more than a bottle of water. A statement that strong will stick with you, especially now that I’m teaching journalism myself.

I immediately weighed in when well-known food writer, editor and writing coach Dianne Jacob wrote a blog entry about “sponsored posts” before Christmas. She, like me, believes in a strict no-freebie rule. But she heard from several bloggers who disagreed on some level. Typically, these were the ones who had participated in some kind of sponsored setup.

Bloggers, I know it’s up to you to decide whether to accept freebies or sponsorship. And it’s fully within your right to do so, as long as you disclose according to FTC guidelines. But I have read wayyyy too many overly positive and frankly, cloying reviews of restaurants, products and services based on samples, handouts, invitations and payment. Trust me, it’s okay to dislike something publicly once in a while. Your readers will take you much more seriously.

That said, there are some bloggers that take no prisoners – Dave of Dave’s Cupboard and his daughter, a contributor, are never afraid to say a sample product sucks beyond belief. And Dave makes that very clear on his “terms of use.” He’s told me that he thinks companies appreciate his honesty. But I think bloggers like this are rare. It’s a natural instinct to want to please someone that did you a favor. And bloggers want to continue to work with said restaurants or agencies that will keep sending them products or invites.

I’m sure we’ll continue to see more debate over this topic in 2011, especially as food bloggers gain more relevance and readership. But in the meantime, I’m still going to cringe at overly ingratiating posts. You can do better.

Credit: Flickr user idovermani

Happy New Year! Hope everyone had a great New Year’s Eve celebration. Our friends roasted an 8-pound beef tenderloin to perfect rareness, and we had a lot of champagne, which fueled our resulting dance party. Our cheese plate, with three selections from Colchester’s Cato Corner Farm (Vivace, Aged Bloomsday and Brigid’s Abbey) was a huge hit. The last chunk of Kerrygold Dubliner Stout disappeared at…about…3:30 a.m.

I haven’t made any concrete New Year’s resolutions, because I think the whole daunting “resolution” notion sets people up to fail. That said, I’m planning to eat better and exercise more. But I’m still a food writer. By nature of what I do, it’s hard to stick to a “diet,” per se, so I’m going to make healthier choices on my “off” times and make a concerted effort to get more exercise into my week. So far, I’m doing pretty well – I came up with a delicious sauteed kale recipe and I’ve gotten quite fond of my new Zumba for Wii game.

Work-wise, I aim to keep pushing for better, more high-profile assignments. But beyond that, I’d like to see where this freelance career will take me. Last year was full of more success and recognition than I could have dreamed for, so it’s pretty exciting to see what might greet me this year.

The ’11′ on the year means that I’m facing a big birthday on July 9. Sigh. But listen, I’m planning on doing this one up big. Travel if I can swing it, and at the very least, one hell of a meal. Anyone know of any good 1981 vintage wines??