(I wrote the post below two years ago but my brother Guy just stumbled across it doing research on our family history. He liked it, I hope you do too, and that it inspires you to listen to a loved one today.)

Florence Marion Henry

This I believe: Everyone has as story to tell. So, today with a fridge full of leftovers, there’s plenty of time to step away from the kitchen to sit down with someone you love to hear a tale or two.

The Storycorps Project heard on National Public Radio, the people who brought us the book, Listening is an Act of Love, encourages all of us to start a new holiday tradition the day after Thanksgiving–and it doesn’t cost a cent. All you need for the National Day of Listening is a notebook or recording device so you can document an in-depth conversation with a family member or friend over an hour or so — a lot less time than it takes to cook a turkey.

In both my professional and personal experience, people have a yearning to be heard. Given half a chance they’ll bend your ear, tell you their secrets, or reveal the good, the bad, and the ugly. So I doubt you’ll be sorry you took time to talk with a relative to learn more about his or her life. But you may regret not doing so.

I know I do.  In my final year at university I had to conduct an oral history for a class assignment and I chose to interview my paternal grandmother. We adored each other in the uncomplicated way that grandchild and grandparent do. She religiously read the student newspaper I wrote for, offering gentle but pointed critiques: “There is no such color as nipple pink and even if there was you have no business using such a term.” When her eyes started to fail she got books and magazines on tape. I can still remember sitting on her bed as we listened to an issue of Newsweek; she liked to keep up on and discuss current events. She kept a poem I’d written about her when I was 8.

But when the day arrived for our interview Gran called to reschedule; it was too rainy and she worried about me, a relatively new driver, navigating the then-treacherous windy roads that led to her home, about 90 minutes outside of Sydney.  The deadline for the assignment loomed so I interviewed somebody else (I don’t recall who) and I never did have that discussion with my grandmother.

Florence Marion Alderton, 1914

I’m fortunate that I know the broad strokes of her life: Born Florence Marion Alderton on May 3, 1900, she grew up in a big clan in a lovely, leafy, waterfront area of Sydney. She went on to become one of the first female pharmacists in the state of New South Wales. She married my surgeon grandfather, Dudley de la Force Henry, just shy of her 29th birthday; the two met when Gran went to work at Grandpa’s practice. And, of course, she gave birth to my Dad, her only child.

In the early 1940s, she served as a driver for longtime parliamentarian Sir Earle Page, a relative who was very briefly (we’re talking 20 days) Prime Minister of Australia. In the early 1970s — in her 70s — she spent a year in the highlands of Papua New Guinea, where my grandfather provided medical assistance. An avid gardener (she won awards for her roses and camellias), horrible cook (instant mashed potato…need I say more?), and keen conversationalist (always happy to have a chat over a cuppa). That was my Granny Henry.

My grandmother in Papua New Guinea

But there are many questions I’d have liked to ask her if we’d kept our appointment. What was it like growing up in the Depression? How did the two World Wars impact her life? How was it as a young, professional woman in a male dominated field? What did my dad like to do as a little boy? How was it chauffeuring a politician? Did she want more than one child? What was it like living in PNG?  What were her greatest joys, sorrows, secrets, good deeds, missteps, and regrets? What life lessons did she want to pass on?

That opportunity is lost to me now; my grandmother died two years after I moved to America. So my suggestion, dear readers, as you contemplate how to spend your post Thanksgiving feast day, is to settle in somewhere comfy, perhaps with a slice of pie or a cup of tea, and let a loved one do the talking.

Two months ago Bay Area Bites introduced readers to a bit of fun created by (and starring) DJDave called Whole Foods Parking Lot.

Anyone else still got that supermarket song produced by the artist collective Fog and Smog stuck in their head?

Readers may recall the mock rage rap chronicles the story of a hipster in a Clipper hat, cruising through the parking lot of Whole Foods in Venice, California in his Prius, trying to find a parking space so he can stock up on overpriced Kombucha, kale, quinoa, and Pinot Noir at Whole Pay Check, Whole Foods.

Since then, some 2.6 million people have watched the YouTube video, DJDave’s sung his song live, and it’s spawned several remixes, some with their own memorable lines.

A personal favorite of this reporter’s: from Delia Brown’s Revenge of the Black Prius:

You’re gangsta ’cause your shirt is made of hemp, hey?
I’m wearing a tampon made of tempeh.

The phenomenon has been covered by food bloggers, music critics, and major media, including The Wall Street Journal and The Hollywood Reporter.

Whole Foods has gone on record as loving the rough ride, no doubt subscribing to that old adage, bad publicity is better than no publicity.

There’s even some local intrigue: The singer-composer behind the catchy tune has copped a bit of good-natured flak from fellow rapper and homeboy LaeCharles Lawrence for not being “Berkeley enough.” LaeCharles, a former Whole Foods employee, has made his own Berkeley-centric remix.

Natch, the two duel it out in a follow-up rap with plenty of insider references to keep the locals happy (Edible Schoolyard, Cancun, and the recently shuttered Mario’s La Fiesta) in a hip hop number called, not surprisingly, U not Berkeley enough, with lyrics like: What do you mean dude? I still eat organic food.

DJDave, U not BERKELEY Enough… Feat. LaeCharles by djdavewittman

Bay Area Bites caught up with David Wittman (aka DJDave) this week to get the scoop on the past few weeks and his more than 15 minutes of fame during a break filming an American Airlines commercial, which he scored the music for and appears in as a percussionist.

When we first spoke some 300,000 people had tuned in to listen to your Whole Foods blues. Now you’re well on your way to 3 million viewers. Are you surprised?

The numbers are creeping up but we thought it was funny and people would click on it and enjoy it. What’s surprised us is the media attention it has generated–the Huffington Post picked it up, Ryan Seacrest tweeted it, a bunch of celebrities have come out saying they like it. What I like best is the number of kids who love it. We’ve fielded comments like “thumbs up if your mom played this for you.” And people send us videos of little children, 4- or 5 year-olds, singing along to the chorus. I guess their parents play it and the kids pick up on the cadence and melodic hook.

Have you heard from Whole Foods?

They contacted me early on. I thought it was going to be a cease and desist kind of thing but they just wanted permission to put it on their site. Most people there thought it was funny, though I think some people still cringe at the 80 bucks for 6 things line. They’ve embraced it. And why shouldn’t they? It’s been good for their brand.

How many remixes has the rap song spawned and can you point us to a favorite?

There have been about 15 or 20 house remixes and a video remix with some pretty cool color manipulation and reconstructed mash up of Dr. Dre beats.

My favorite remix is by LaeCharles, whom I met last weekend while I was up in Berkeley deejaying at a friend’s wedding at the Lawrence Hall of Science. He had this little dig at me about my Berkeley credentials in his version, which was the impetus for my follow-up song. But he’s a big-hearted, creative, cool guy. We shot some footage together and we’re talking about doing something with it.

Any personal highlights for you over the last two months as result of this rap?

It doesn’t get any better than opening for Too $hort, a hometown legend whom I’ve listened to since I was 12, at a club called Eden in L.A.

Some people don’t get what the fuss is about or think your video is funny. And about 600 have disliked your song on YouTube. Your thoughts?

Sometimes I’m surprised by just how many people laugh at it because it’s a particular humor with a lot of personal references about a specific environment, stage of life, and kinds of products. It’s not for everyone, and that doesn’t bother me, you can’t win them all. What I don’t like is when people accuse me of ripping someone else off or appropriating another culture. I’m just trying to have a bit of fun doing something original with the musical influences I grew up with.

Can you even set foot in a Whole Foods store without people approaching you or parroting your lines back at you?

Funny you should ask that. My girl and I thought it might be a little crazy the first time we went back to the Whole Foods where we shot this video. I can report that it was underwhelming, basically zero response, which was reassuring in its own way.

You’re a professional composer. Have companies hit up the collective to help them create a catchy tune for their products?

We’ve been approached by companies who sell yoga stuff, skateboards, wine, and a health and wellness center. We’re considering everything but we want to wait for the right opportunity with the right musical fit and sensibility for us. We also have ideas as a collective for things we want to do on our own, this was supposed to be a creative outlet from our day jobs, not a money maker.

What’s the most out there offer that’s come your way since this clip hit the Internet?

I’ve been approached by casting directors from each of the major networks about the potential for a series. I’m not an actor. But I’m talking to agents and keeping my options open. That said, I’m not some wide-eyed kid. I’ve got a good job, a fiancee, and a rhythm and flow to my life. I’m staying grounded and honest.

Have any perks come your way as a result of this creative endeavor?

I got sent some Humboldt fog cheese, Kombucha, and a case of wine, mostly Pinot Noirs for under $20. Whole Foods sent a small gift certificate. These are just nice nods. We didn’t do this video expecting any kind of financial compensation. But these things are like cash to me ’cause they’re on my shopping list anyway.

What have you most enjoyed from this experience?

It’s been a fun ride. The best part has been getting emails from people that say stuff like “Thanks for making me laugh, that was fresh.” I dig it and I write back to everyone.

This post originally appeared on KQED’s Bay Area Bites.

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It’s Gettin’ Real in the Whole Foods Parking Lot.

Vegan speed daters smile for the camera. Photo: Karine Brighten

What, pray tell, does one wear to a speed dating event for vegetarians, vegans, and the veg-curious (there’s a punch line waiting to happen) searching for their perfect match?

This reporter flirted with donning her son’s “Meat is Murder” T-shirt, which felt a tad obvious and then promptly opted for her typical uniform (jeans, shirt, boots, all sans slogans) and headed to the vegetarian Saturn Café, the site of the meatless speed dating meetup.

Since said reporter is both 1. single and 2. vegetarian (as long as you don’t count the occasional lapse in her mostly plant-based diet of some 30 years), it made sense to go undercover.

Can you imagine how awkward it would be for speed daters to have a reporter with notebook in tow chronicling, for public consumption, their attempts at meeting a soulmate over vegetable taquitos?

The Veg Speed Dating night was hosted by Berkeley-based Karine Brighten, 29, a vegan who met her husband (also vegan) online. Brighten believes that finding a partner who shares the same politics of the plate is one of the keys to a happy relationship.

“I don’t have meat in my home, go to zoos, wear clothing made from animals, or eat at restaurants that serve meat, so it’s important to me to have a partner who shares my lifestyle choices,” said Brighten, who specializes in vegan events. “Then there’s no explaining or defending to do, you’re both on the same page.”

The Saturn Cafe's Space Lounge awaits the arrival of speed daters. Photo: Karine Brighten

Wednesday night’s meetup was aimed at heterosexual adults 21 and over, though Brighten hopes to hold events for gay folks in the future. Early birds paid $25 to attend. For those who left “looking for luv” to the last minute, tickets at the door cost $35.

Brighten worked hard to keep the genders evenly balanced, capping female sign ups until more men bought tickets. In the end, there were a couple more guys than gals in a group of about 40. Two women dropped out because they’d found themselves in relationships since they purchased tickets. Lucky them.

The assembled crowd, mostly Caucasians in their early 20s through to early 60s from around the Bay Area, mingled over appetizers in the Space Lounge, an area separate from the restaurant.

(A word on the food: mostly fried and fatty, with salsa laden with raw onion. In short: Overwhelmingly unimpressive and not particularly dating-friendly. Raw onion? Some folks eyes lit up at the end of the evening when vegan cupcakes came out, others begged off saying they avoid sugar or that the treats were too sweet.)

But folks weren’t there for the food. If you’re unfamiliar with speed dating, here’s how last night’s worked: people wore name tags and were given a sign up sheet. After some preliminary schmoozing, the women were asked to sit on bench seats and men sat opposite. Each “pair” had a chance to chat for three minutes. A bell signaled when it was time to move on. After the allocated time, each male slid down a seat and a new conversation began. Every guy got to meet every girl. At the end, each guest could jot down the names of any person/s of interest, which were then passed on to Brighten.

In the event that two people each picked the other, contact details are passed along via email. What happens next is up to the two individuals.

As a neophyte to the speed dating scene, who knew what to expect?  It turned out that the men and women at the event were mostly kind, curious, and thoughtful during the brief interactions.

In the name of research both professional and personal, this writer did check out some speed dating tips in advance. Fresh breath and easy on the booze. (Really? Check.) Accentuate the positive and don’t interview or interrogate. (Professional hazard alert.) Off-limit subjects on one list (work, politics, religion) were given the green light on another. But, no worries, if these topics were even broached they were dispensed with quickly.

Dating expert Anna Hennings offered tips at the Veg Speed Dating event.

The event featured a self-described dating expert, Anna Hennings, 25, who has co-authored articles on the subject and counts among her credentials being raised by sex educators/therapists. (One of the younger speed daters asked me if Hennings was available. Unluckily for him, she recently found her own match.) Hennings speech was brief, upbeat and encouraged folks to keep things light.

This participant learned a few things. Talking to 20 men, three minutes apart in rapid succession can make your head spin, throat parched, and keep even a professional listener on her toes. When meeting a fella who announces he works for the Oakland As, it’s probably not a dating-savvy move to blurt out, “Seriously? My son would love that.” And telling a yoga instructor that you stopped practicing after herniating a disc in class can make a conversation falter. Also: keeping a mental tally of how many of the male participants are grad students and/or young enough to be your offspring is probably not what the organizers had in mind.

It turns out I wasn’t alone in my thinking. The gal sitting next to me agreed on the food, age range, and acoustics (really difficult to hear), while acknowledging the need for opportunities for like-minded singles to meet. The organizers plan to tweak the format for future events.

“From a romantic-partner perspective, it seems like a waste of time for a 63-year-old to be mingling with a 22-year-old,” concurred Henning. Brighten said she plans to offer events with narrower age ranges down the track. As for grumblings about too many dates to meet and not enough time to talk, the old adage comes to mind: you can’t please everyone. That said, Brighten claimed the night a success with 24 tabulated matches.

The event also made me ponder how much a prospective dating partner’s dietary preferences really matter in the realm of relationships. It was clear in a crowd that contained many vegans that finding a match who labelled themselves as such was a motivating factor for attending the event, as Brighten predicted. But non-vegans didn’t seem as concerned about finding a perfect match on the food front.

Vegan cupcakes: A sweet end note to the speed dating event. Photo: Karine Brighten

Speed dating is not confined to people who identify with a certain way of eating. The Jewish community has long offered such match-making mixers for singles and the San Francisco Public Library recently ran its first literary speed dating events for 20- and 30somethings, one for straights and one for gays, as reported in the San Francisco Chronicle.

Speed dating opportunities for people who are secular, slender, tall, 50+ and a variety of other niche groups are run by private companies.

What to make of these first impressions? A 2005 study at the University of Pennsylvania based on multiple HurryDate events found that most people made their choices within the first three seconds of meeting.

And issues such as religion, previous marriages, and smoking habits were found to play much less of a role than expected. The research did not address eating choices.

Intriguingly, Malcolm Gladwell’s book on split-second decision making, Blink, includes the work of  two professors at Columbia University who run speed-dating events. These doctors found, from having participants fill out questionnaires, that what people said they wanted in an ideal mate did not match their subconscious preferences.

Could that mean that chemistry can top health-environment-animal-rights-ethical concerns? Is it possible for a committed vegan to fall for an unabashed omnivore and can such mismatches last? Can a rabbit-food loving lass hook up for life with an offal-loving lad? Or is a locavore who subscribes to a CSA doomed if his love interest favors fast food joints?

What say you readers: do our dietary preferences factor into our love relationships and what happens when opposites attract?

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside and was republished by The Bay Citizen.

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A Culinary Confession
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DJDave, also known as David Wittman, has penned a memorable little ditty about some disturbing (not) things that go down in the Whole Foods parking lot for affluent Angelenos picking up organic kale and Kombucha.

Posted last Sunday, the mock rage-rapper’s hip hop YouTube video “Whole Foods Parking Lot” has gone viral. Even Whole Foods appreciates the humor in a song that pokes fun at the culinary cliches of shoppers in Santa Monica, Venice, and, um, elsewhere, who can afford to spend 80 bucks for six things.

The 37-year-old former Berkeley boy, works as a commercial composer for Elias Arts, crafting catchy tunes for clients like Budweiser, Pepsi, and Haagen Dazs.

Wittman also composes film scores. But he wanted a place where he could create personal projects not destined for commercial use. So he and his like-minded friends formed the artist collective Fog and Smog Films, comprised of film editors, composers, producers, deejays, designers, and such from the Bay Area and Los Angeles. “Whole Foods Parking Lot” is their first collaboration; Wittman created, produced, and performs in the piece.

What inspired you to make this music video?

It’s completely born out of my own experience, this is what I do on a regular basis: I drive my Prius through the Whole Foods parking lot in Santa Monica and I live this ridiculously mannered West L.A. lifestyle, and I’m usually thinking about what I’m picking up for dinner that night.

And then someone comes up and takes my parking space and it’s like: “Oh, really? It’s about to get REAL in the Whole Foods parking lot man.”

It’s making fun of that and putting it in perspective. We all get really frustrated or stressed out by silly things. I wanted to show the craziness of that in our lives.

I started singing to myself about it and then I found a beat that works that is fun but has this aggressive little tone. And one day I just sat down and wrote it in less than 20 minutes.

Can you tell me some of your musical influences?

I grew up in the Bay Area going to Cazadero Music Camp in the summer, which had a huge impact on me. I started learning to dj there when I was 10. The Berkeley High Jazz Band was another big influence. I deejayed a lot at house parties when I was at Berkeley High and then later at UCLA, that’s where my moniker comes from.

In terms of hip hop, I listened to a lot of the standard names coming out of New York in the 80s like A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Mos Def, Rakim. I’ve listened to my share of Snoop Dog; there’s a creeping up quality to this song that’s a nod to Snoop.

What about your food influences?

I’m not a foodie. I like fresh food. But I don’t go crazy about the whole organic, local thing. I just try to eat well. I definitely started eating better once my fiancee moved in. The editor on this clip, Jake Pushinsky, is into food and restaurants, and comes from the food and beverage industry. He used to work at Hawthorne Lane.

Did you expect this video to be as successful as it’s been?

I knew it was funny so I would have been disappointed if only 19 people listened to it or even 900 people. I wanted to see what viral looked like. We’re up around the 500,000 mark now. What I didn’t expect: Fielding calls from agents and the “Today Show.”

What’s your favorite rhyme from the song?

You’re the most annoying dude I’ve ever SEEN brah
Could you PLEASE move? You’re RIGHT in front of the Quinoa.

Is there anything else out there like your video?

There’s another YouTube video set to a bossa nova beat about Trader Joe’s that I didn’t even know about until someone accused me of ripping it off. It’s well done and it’s similar but I think it’s slightly more endearing. I’m clearly making fun of myself.

What’s next for Fog and Smog?

We’re not sure. But it will be something authentic that comes out of someone’s genuine experience. We’re proud of this video because it’s an honest little slice of life.

What’s for dinner?

You know I think my fiancee and I will fire up the grill and we’ll have some chicken and I’ll make a kale salad and some quinoa. We might even have it with a Pinot Noir.

Lyrics:

Intro (spoken)

Yo man…
Yo I know you see me here dude!!
I’ve been waiting here like 10 minutes, man!
No, no no… this is MY parking space man.
What you need to do is put your little hybrid in reverse,
And go out the way you came in.
WHAT?!?!
Yo its about to get REAL in the Whole Foods parking lot man…

Chorus (with feeling)

It’s getting’ REAL in the Whole Foods Parking Lot
I got my STEEL and you know it gets sparked a lot
Im on my grind homie… It’s on my mind homie!
These fools with clip boards are lookin’ at me like they know me!

It’s getting’ REAL in the Whole Foods Parking Lot
You know the DEAL with the little shopping carts they got…
Check out what I say, it happens every day…
It’s how we LIVE on the west side of LA!!

Verse 1

… Im ridin’ slow in my Prius…
all leather, tinted windows… you cant see us!!
Everybody’s trying to park, you can feel the tension
I’m in electric mode… can’t even hear the engine (Shhhhhhh)

Just then I saw a spot open up,
My timings perfect… Im creepin’ up…
But then this other dude tried to steal it going the wrong way
Yo man, I’ve had a LONG DAY!

Chorus
(same as before)

Verse 2

Now I’m on this inside, looking at my list
Organic chicken, Kale Salad and a Lemon Twist.
Some girl in yoga pants is lookin at me funny
I’m just trying to find a decent Pinot Noir for under twenty!

Then I take it to the cheese counter, Humboldt Fog?
We just ran out sir! Really Dog?
Take it easy man, I try to calm myself…
I’ve been on edge ever since they took Kombucha off the shelf…

Chorus

(same as before)

Verse 3

This Busters on his iPhone talking to his friends,
Picking up some cayenne pepper for his master cleanse.
You’re the most annoying dude I’ve ever SEEN brah…
Could you PLEASE move? You’re RIGHT in front of the Quinoa.

Damn, I’m about to check out.
Pay my 80 bucks for 6 things and get the heck out.
The express lane is moving hella slow…
Man, these fools don’t know… that shit is getting REAL….

Chorus
(same as before)

This post originally appeared on KQED’s Bay Area Bites and was cross-posted on Civil Eats.

FLOTUS, also known as First Lady Michelle Obama, is scheduled to have breakfast at a political fundraiser tomorrow in Berkeley, where slow food legend Alice Waters and friends will whip up something seasonal, sustainable, local, organic, and, let’s hope, delicious — since supporters are forking out $1,000-$25,000 a piece to break bread (an Acme garlic loaf, the first from the Edible Schoolyard no less) with the Commander-in-Chief’s wife.

Waters is a fan of Obama’s efforts to get folks to eat well and move more. “Her dedication to children’s healthy eating has been an inspiration to all of us here at Chez Panisse,” said an email from Alice herself. “The menu will be a celebration of these ideals, featuring organic ingredients from local farmers and purveyors around the Bay Area.” Obama, of course, values Waters’ impressive work to improve school lunch around the country and champion school cooking and gardening programs through her Chez Panisse Foundation.

The woman who recently unveiled the fed’s new food icon My Plate and strives to combat childhood obesity through her Let’s Move campaign is in the Bay Area to raise money for hubbie’s 2012 re-election campaign and the Democratic National Committee. The event will be held at the toney Claremont Hotel, Club, and Spa on the Berkeley-Oakland border, a local landmark, known for its regal white facade, killer views, and expensive club membership.

The hotel has been spiffing itself up in anticipation of Obama’s visit, wrote Berkeleyside, which noted the recent appearance of two raised planting beds near one Claremont entrance. The post prompted one resident to write: “Will the Claremont also be hiring cute, chubby children to conspicuously exercise in areas Michelle Obama might pass through?”

The Claremont Hotel's modest attempt at growing greens./Photo: Sarah Henry

Lettuce Eat Kale swung by the hotel yesterday and can report that one bed boasts new tomato plants, another starters, including radish, carrot, and parsley. But who among us hasn’t tidied up a bit before important guests come over? And when I interviewed executive chef Josh Thomsen a few months ago he mentioned plans for a veggie patch in close proximity to the hotel’s fine-dining Meritage restaurant. Fair enough.

No doubt the hotel is a flurry of activity today, as an army of folks clean and polish in anticipation of the event. There’s something else they might want to pay attention to. The wording on the sign outside the hotel, which doesn’t, ah, seem in keeping with the First Lady’s or Water’s message of (mostly) eating home-cooked meals made from scratch:

And, while we’re on the subject of staying on message: What happened to plans for another fundraising breakfast event the same morning at the Golden State Warriors’ practice center in downtown Oakland? Both breakfast events, keep in mind, are being hosted by Oakland politicians Congresswoman Barbara Lee and Mayor Jean Quan.

The basketball facility is in the heart of a city where food deserts and hunger are a significant problem, and children struggle with alarming rates of early-onset diabetes and other dietary health problems. And Oakland doesn’t have an Alice Waters in the schools or Berkeley’s enviable cooking and garden program. School food advocates there face an uphill battle to bring quality fresh food to children.

Maybe the event got cancelled due to logistical or security reasons. Regardless, local residents, like James Berk, the young owner-member of the Mandela Foods Cooperative, might have welcomed knowing that Michelle was in town, fighting the good food fight on their behalf, let alone being offered a place at the table.

Over in Berkeley most folks will likely grumble about traffic delays due to her security detail. And club members at the Claremont? They’ll probably just want to make sure they get their early morning swim, tennis game, or gym workout in before the First Lady swoops in for, perhaps, free-range eggs with artisan goat cheese and freshly foraged greens.

You might also enjoy:

The First Lady of Food
Fed Up With School Lunch: The Fed’s Join the Fray
White House Farmers’ Market: An Idea Whose Time Has Come?
What’s Cooking in the First Family’s Kitchen?
Alice Waters’ 40 Year Campaign for Good Food
New School Food Study: Victory for Alice Waters
Cultivating Controversy: In Defense of an Edible Education
Surgeon General Swings by Edible Schoolyard
Josh Thomsen Gathers Local Talent for Berkeley Wine Festival
Oakland’s Farm Fresh Approach to School Food
James Berk of Mandela Foods Brings Produce to His People

Cheese Board pizza straight from the oven. Photo: Christina Diaz

Recently I wrote a post for Bay Area Bites about how to be a “successful” food blogger.

Veteran and new bloggers responded favorably to the piece (though the “be a man” item gave some pause — and prompted a bit of snarkiness in cyberspace.) Fair enough.

But my latest Berkeleyside post has me thinking I should have added another tip to that piece: Invite readers to have their say.

Who knew that a round-up post — on the Top Ten pizzas in town, of all subjects — would generate more than 200 responses in the comments section, Facebook, and Twitter? Clearly, the dead tree media, who have been offering their readers this kind of coverage for years, are on to something.

That’s a commenting record for me; I think it might be for Berkeleyside as well. Everyone has an opinion when it comes to their favorite slice, I guess.

I’d been contemplating mixing up my column a bit anyway (regular readers may recall that I profile well-known and emerging food artisans, restauranteurs, and urban farmers for the site). But, truth be told, I didn’t have an interview lined up for last week and come Wednesday I was scrambling around, as we writers sometimes do, for something to say.

I mulled this matter over at my son’s baseball game when one of the dad’s mentioned he’d ordered pizzas for the kids. I asked him why he’d chosen the pizzeria he picked, a conversation about the best pies in town ensued, and voila, a column was conceived.

You might think a story about the good deeds of a fruit forager who donates to the homeless, or a profile of a food icon like Alice Waters, or a poignant tale about a restaurant couple who continue to work together after their marriage ends, would spur lots of reader responses. Not necessarily so.

But ask people for their pizza preferences and, it turns out, they have plenty to say. I’m still not sure what to make of it all. One thing I’m fairly certain of, though: The “best of” readers’ picks is likely to become a regular feature in my Friday food column.

Taking my own advice here: What do you make of this surge in responses? Chime in below.

Find more of Christina Diaz’s images here.

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Where do you get the best pizza in Berkeley? You tell us
Berkeley Bites: Alice Waters
Natasha Boissier: Forages fruit, feeds hungry
The culinary couple behind Berkeley’s Corso and Rivoli
So You Want to be a Successful Food Blogger? Here’s How.

Now that I have your attention, let me start by saying that “success” in food blogging terms can be measured in many ways.

Some see success in terms of traffic in the millions, others in an audience of two. (Hi mom, thanks for finding my “blob.” True story over at Rabbit Food Rocks.) Some want to turn their cyberventures into cookbook or cooking shows. Still others eschew all the talk of numbers (both dollars and page counts) and firmly believe that success can be measured in building a bona fide community that keeps coming back for well-written words, known in the blog biz as (wince alert) content.

Then there are the rock stars of the food blogging establishment, peeps like Ree Drummond who writes under the persona The Pioneer Woman. Check out her impressive stats, courtesy of a recent New Yorker profile: 23.3 million page views per month, 4.4 million unique visitors, a new memoir, The Pioneer Woman: Black Heels to Tractor Wheels–A Love Story, a bestselling cookbook, ad revenue for 2010 at the cool one million mark and counting, oh, and a movie deal, with Reese Witherspoon signed on to star. All this for a gal who chronicles the minutiae of everyday life on an Oklahoma cattle ranch, where she home schools four kids, cooks, and dishes about cleaning out her closet.

Curious about this medium and the food folks who thrive in blogland, I’ve attended my fair share of blogging meet ups in the past couple of years, including BlogHerFood, International Food Blogger Conference, and, most recently, Camp Blogaway, the second annual sleepover for food bloggers held in the San Bernardino mountains in Southern California. I’ve also sat in on blogging panels at conferences that include old-media scribes such as the International Association of Culinary Professionals and the Symposium for Professional Food Writers.

What I’m struck by at these sessions is how much the attendees are looking for the keys to success in cyberland. It reminds me of a time, not so long ago, when new writers would pepper panelists at journalism conventions for the one right way to write a pitch letter to break into print magazines, as if starting with “Hi Joe,” “Dear Mr. Yonan” or “Yo Joe Yonan” could make the crucial difference between landing a freelance assignment and getting overlooked.

Of course, there are missteps best avoided (if you spell an editor’s name wrong you’re likely sunk). But the truth is while talent and ideas count, so does experience, connections, timing, and, frankly, a bit of luck. I feel similarly about how things shake out in the food writing world on the Internet.

That said, I offer up five key ingredients gleaned from these long weekend food blogging bashes that may help pave the way to success in the blogosphere, however you define that term. And, thanks for asking, I think I’d choose Cate Blanchett to play me.

5 Keys to Food Blogging Success

Tell stories: Might seem obvious, but having something to say and telling it in an informative and entertaining way is crucial. And, as bloggers like Camp Blogaway keynote speaker Joy Wilson of Joy the Baker exemplifies, it need not be on weighty matters. She writes frequently about the antics of her cat and in two short years saw her readers jump from around 32 to 2 million. (It doesn’t hurt that she bakes mouth-watering treats and takes stunning snaps, too, see my next point.)

I’m partial to the prose dispensed by pals Cheryl Sternman Rule (5 Second Rule), Molly Watson (The Dinner Files) and — rock star alert — Molly Wizenberg (Orangette, but then savvy blog readers knew that already, right?) Consistently well-crafted tales told with wit and wisdom, typically just once a week, from each of these gals. Newsflash peeps: Pumping out blog copy every day doesn’t necessarily make for a great read. Oh, and I’m a food policy wonkette at heart so I read Civil Eats pretty consistently too.

And, here’s an interesting tidbit: You know how food blogs are largely about food and frequently contain recipes? Duh. Here’s what I’ve heard confessed recently at these soirees: Many readers gush about being a huge fan of blogger XX, while at the same time confessing to have never, ever, made a single recipe on their site. Wow. Who knew? And what to make of that fact?

Take pretty pictures: It’s not enough to have something to say. Food bloggers need to be food photographers and stylists too. I’m no fan of the term food porn, but I get it, and I like a beautiful image of something scrumptious as much as the next voyeur. Judging by the popularity of such sites as TasteSpotting and foodgawker, I’m not alone. Every blogging conference includes panels on how to perfect your happy snaps. Locally, Heidi Swanson at 101 Cookbooks gets props for her photography; check out BAB contributor Megan Gordon’s 5 Beautifully Photographed Food Blogs post or Saveur‘s recent top picks of pics for more. Speaking of rock stars, at Camp Blogaway there was much twittering (both in the new and old sense of that word) about the appearance of Sarah Gim, founder of TasteSpotting, who seems like a perfectly pleasant person to this visually-challenged photog but was treated like royalty by many of the way more camera-savvy scribes at this event. Clearly, image matters in this medium. Get a pic on TasteSpotting, considered the gold standard of food porn sites, and watch that traffic climb.

Build a genuine community: A well-received panel addressing this very subject occurred at the recent Camp Blogaway, co-presented by my role model in this matter, the consistently generous Cheryl Sternman Rule, and the similarly welcoming Susan Russo of FoodBlogga. In a nutshell: Think about your readers, only promote products you truly value, reach out to new readers and bloggers, champion others, and say thank you. Susan talked about paying it forward and building an authentic following beyond cyberspace (clue: in the real world). Cheryl walks her talk; for a taste, try this bite. My favorite take away from their talk: “Measure your success not in clicks or traffic, but in how well your blog fulfills your personal and professional objectives. Most of all, be kind to yourself.”

Be a man: Okay, before all the guys start rolling their eyes here, let me say this: I’m no man hater. I’m a daddy’s girl who adored growing up with four boisterous brothers. I was married to a man for a very long time and we remain firm friends in the Ellen Barkin-Gabriel Byrne kind of way (versus the Ellen Barkin-Ronald Perelman way. No idea what I’m talking about? Take a little pit stop through this New York Times Magazine piece on same and then come back here.) My only child hails from planet XY. Some of my best friends are men…you know where this is going.

Got no issue with the other sex. And yet: Why is it in the blogosphere and at these food writing affairs, which, let’s face it, are afloat in a sea of estrogen, do so many men seem to be disproportionately represented in the ranks of speakers and award winners? I’m not the only one who notices. I can only surmise that they simply stand out in an overwhelmingly female field. In true rock star fashion, like Sting, they need only one name to be recognized. Think: Lebovitz, Leite and Ruhlman.

Keep current with social media: Twitter is the new Facebook. StumbleUpon is the new Digg. Video is the new photo. That’s right: It’s not enough to take fab photos. You have to shoot and edit your own mini-movies now too, another take away from Camp Blogaway, a fact that was echoed at the American Society of Journalists and Authors conference in New York the same weekend, according to food writer friends who attended that event. To which I can only say: Shoot me now.

Speaking of that ASJA conference, the other take-home advice that stood out to me on the Monday morning I scanned email messages coming out of that meeting: Don’t let blogging get in the way of your real work. Go figure.

This post originally appeared on KQED’s Bay Area Bites and was featured on Food News Journal.

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I recently rediscovered the humble spud. Last week my friend Felicity boiled up some small, freshly harvested Yukon Golds, we slathered them in butter, ground pepper, and a dollop of green garlic pesto, and I was smitten all over again.

Today I feel the need to come to this vegetable’s defense.

A blogging buddy, Charmian Christie of Christie’s Corner, forwarded an inane press release designed to encourage bloggers to dis the potato in favor of a food-like product in a box made mostly from refined flour, high fructose corn syrup, and salt. When I read this missive I started to boil like those wholesome, nutrient-packed baby tubers.

This is one misguided marketing campaign, signed off by the blogger outreach manager (who knew such positions existed?) and an example of so much that is wrong with food culture in this country.

In comparison, a couple of weeks ago I attended a talk by Peruvian chef Gaston Acurio, owner of several seafood restaurants including La Mar in San Francisco (another U.S. location is opening in New York soon). He waxed rhapsodic about the range and diversity of potatoes grown in his homeland (there are thousands of varieties) and explained that at his restaurant in Lima he serves unadorned, boiled potatoes as an appetizer. He also invites the potato farmer to talk with diners about his harvest, which is highly valued in Peru.

Back to the matter at hand: I don’t want to give these foolish flacks (also known as P.R. people), their company, or their product an ounce of extra publicity, so they will remain nameless in this post. If you want specific details and a peek at the press release in all its misguided glory, mosey on over to Liz Snyder’s blog I Eat Real after you’re finished here.

I will say the corporate food conglomerate behind this is a major player who’s name rhymes with “daft” and “graft.” The product: Never heard of it, since I don’t, as a rule, buy mass produced, highly processed, edible food-like substances. Let’s just say the marketing gurus were pushing this glop as an exciting alternative to the “boring” (their branding) potato.

Didn’t these marketing mavens learn from their parents that it’s rude to promote yourself by criticizing something else? How uncivilized and uncreative, this un-potato campaign, as these hired hands dubbed it.

It gets worse, the release goes on to instruct bloggers on exactly how to shill for the company at the spud’s expense — and even offers a whopping $100 gift certificate in a contest for those who do it with style. Sadly, there must be a market among a segment of the blogging community for this kind of hack work or the corporations wouldn’t bother.

The release maintains that all that’s needed is a sense of humor (they cite the satirical mag The Onion as an example) but there’s nothing ironic about what they’re asking of cyberscribes.

These kinds of press releases don’t typically clog up my email inbox. When your blog is called Lettuce Eat Kale it’s probably safe to assume that I’m pretty pro produce.

Or maybe it’s because I don’t think there’s anything funny about encouraging people to eat crap by bad mouthing a natural crop. That’s how I see it. What say you?

This is not sponsored content. This writer did not receive compensation from The Potato Association of America, United States Potato Board or Mr. Potato Head for penning this post.

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So my friend Felicity Crush, an artist and graphic designer who has the very good fortune to reside in Stinson Beach, invited me to a supper club with a country spin last Saturday.

It was held in neighboring Bolinas, a lovely rural enclave in West Marin best known for trying to keep its location secret, in a recently refurbished barn behind the 24-hour Farm Stand on Gospel Flat Farm run by farmer-artist-educator Mickey Murch. On Saturday, the vibe was country chic with a suitably Boho twist for the area known to locals as Bobo. Think extremely local, sustainable, seasonal eats.

The rustic meal was cooked in Murch’s mobile boat-turned-kitchen, a piece of art in its own right. Diners noshed on Tomales Bay mussels, Star Route greens, and a cassoulet studded with white beans.

Art work with an Impressionistic feel made from found objects on local beaches adorned the walls. Overhead, hand-crafted metalic lamps. Two simple wooden tables festooned with flowers filled the space. On tap: A smooth red courtesy of a resident winemaker. Fiddle music filled the room, conversation flowed, a good time ensued.

I’d wager the world would be a better place if we sat around a communal table more often and shared a simple meal with strangers surrounded by art and music.

What say you?

Food by Rebecca Sterlin and Heidi Lundy of Wild Onion Catering in Bolinas
Wine by Brian Ojalvo
Painting and mixed media work by Tess Felix Greene of Stinson Beach
Shag lamps by Katy Balthazar
Gypsy Grooves by Beso Negro
Photos by Heidi Gross Sandvoll

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[This post originally appeared on KQED's Bay Area Bites, where it has sparked some lively comments. Feel from to add yours here or there.]

Heads up readers: Want to know a dirty little secret of online journalism, including website food writing? It doesn’t always pay. Maybe you haven’t given the matter much thought, but read on to find out why you should.

First, some context from recent headlines: progressive online media giant The Huffington Post, which has a lively food section and set the standard for the new no-pay media, announced that it was being bought by AOL for a cool $315 million in cash and stock. That was fabulous news for the already fabulously wealthy Arianna Huffington and her cronies, but a slap in the face for the army of unpaid wordsmiths on which the HuffPo has built a blog empire using, essentially, the slave labor of journalists who wrote posts for free in the hope it may make a difference, including to their cash flow, down the track.

Mainstream media analysts like Tim Rutten at the Los Angeles Times even said as much: “To grasp The Huffington Post’s business model, picture a galley rowed by slaves and commanded by pirates.”

Elsewhere other scribes parsed out the economics at play, including Nate Silver in a column for the New York Times, but the fact remains no matter how you run the numbers this business model is just plain exploitive. So much for Huffington’s liberal values. And don’t just take my word for it, as media maven Tina Brown told New York Magazine: “My stance is that as a writer, I like to get paid. That’s just the cost of doing business. I mean, you wouldn’t expect to not be paying anyone doing any other things.”

Indeed. It’s a brutal economy, and many writers and editors have lost their jobs or taken buyouts, as the print media implodes. Filling the void: online blogs pumping out content, journalism’s low or no-pay poor cousin. (Full disclosure: KQED pays me $40 to pen posts like this one. I retain the copyright for the stories I turn here and am free to run them on my own blog or use them as pitches for higher-paying pieces in other media.) Exclusivity and copyright questions can get sticky, as Politics of the Plate writer Barry Estabrook discovered in curt correspondence he received from Conde Nast Publications, which owned Gourmet. Estabrook, who wrote for the since shuttered magazine, was admonished for reprinting articles he authored for the mag on his blog.

It wasn’t always so. Back in the olden days, a phrase which here means just a few years ago, before the word blogging made its way into the popular lexicon, the activity was simply known as “writing for the web” and writers like myself were compensated — handsomely — for their time and talents at rates comparable to print outlets. We’re talking fees in the thousands for reported stories, usually at a rate of $1 a word or higher. (A rate, mind you, that has been pretty set in stone since I landed in this country as a novice reporter some 25 years ago. But that’s another story.) This meant that it was possible, with a lot of hard work and persistence, to make a modest living at the job.

Fast forward to today and we now have a band of self-styled “journalists” roaming the web writing off the cuff (and frequently about themselves, since this is the narcissistic age we live in). And yes, some of it is well done. But a lot of it is not. Regardless, it doesn’t do career journalists like myself any favors and it’s a disservice to readers, too.

Here’s why: Offering up content — or packaged information — is not the same thing as crafting quality journalism, which involves interviewing, analysis, and research, along with expertise, experience, and a modicum of style.

But I’ve taken to adopting the mantra “adapt or die,” and find myself — like many mid-career scribblers — struggling to find a way to make a living in a field where the landscape has changed dramatically. Although I shifted to food writing two years ago, a notoriously under-paid beat, I’ve been able to eke out an income by diversifying and carving out a niche.

The jury is out on whether this experiment will work, and there are days when I wonder if I should go fill out an application at Trader Joe’s. I know scores of writers, both freelancers and those who used to be staffers, who feel the same way.

Even folks on the inside feel our pain. “It eats at me every day,” says Corby Kummer, The Atlantic Food Channel‘s senior food editor. Kummer explains that once he learned about the business model for the site he would run, he was careful not to ask established freelance writers or new reporters to pitch because he couldn’t compensate them for their time.

Instead, he sought out people who were experts in their activities and businesses, like Ari Weinzweig and Larry Stone, or academics who write as part of their platform, such as Marion Nestle and James McWilliams, or writers with books who wanted to reach a wide audience. (The Atlantic, an intellectual magazine not known for bringing in big bucks, turned a $1.8 million profit last year, the first time in at least a decade that it hadn’t lost money, largely due to its digital presence.) In a sense, these were people who could afford to write gratis, since they already had an income source.

But once the site launched Kummer fielded numerous emails from writers — including this one — who wanted their stories to appear on the site. “I want nothing more than to be part of the solution to making web writing into the going enterprise that, for a time that seems so long ago, print journalism was,” says Kummer. “We hope revenue will follow, not just for us but for the people who create that work.”

And that’s exactly what we want to hear, since there are still rents or mortgages to pay, food to get on the table, and kids to raise in (public) school. Meanwhile, there’s a core of mid-career professionals — including many women who are the family breadwinners or head of households — who have seen their freelance writing income literally slashed by 50 to 75 percent. We’re all working harder and longer hours than we ever have for much, much less.

In certain circles I hear rumblings about a potential uprising among writers; some even talk about starting a new union to protect online workers.

That may sound far-fetched but really what we have going on here is sweatshop conditions akin to the old economy’s industrial capitalism: Poorly paid piecework and huge profits for the owners. Something has to shift.

Full disclosure: While I continue to derive decent income from food writing for print publications such as AFAR, California, and San Francisco, I also contribute regular food coverage to online sites that offer token compensation, including Bay Area Bites, which is based on the concept of citizen media, and the local start-up Berkeleyside. And, of course, nobody sends me a check for the pieces I pen on my own blog, Lettuce Eat Kale.

On rare occasion I turn an original post for non-paying Internet outlets such as the wonky website Civil Eats (where nobody, including the editors, makes a dime) and The Atlantic Food Channel (where the editors, presumably, are well compensated for their work) as part of a strategy that I trust will pay off in financial terms in the future — a phrase which here means “I hope very soon.”

Lest you think I’ve lost my sense of humor, I leave you with this video, “Adventures in Freelancing,” part of a series on YouTube by the talented Lauren Lipton that amusingly sends up the current state of affairs that resembles reality for many writers. Food for thought: