Thoughts: Stormy Weather for the Food Industry?

It's an interesting time to be writing around the periphery of the food world. The industry, and its legion army of amateur and professional personalities, reviewers, thought-provokers, and unflappable Instagrammers have been receiving a lot of press lately.  And at least from the mainstream side of things, little of it is flattering. Take your pick: the Reviewercard tempest-in-a-teapot (if nothing else came out of the brouhaha, I now know who John Birdsall, who wrote the story behind the latter link, is, and plan to follow his writing, because he makes me smile); subtler reminders that not everyone enjoys others' flash photography during their dinner out; or perhaps this wickedly pointed and yet often on-point post about unspoken thoughts and the food industry. (In regards to this last piece, while we're in accord about elevated cuisine and $16 mac & cheese, I will defend to the pain that cabbage rolls, depicted in their Thought 16 as an example of "not every cuisine deserves to be celebrated," certainly do deserve celebration. And afternoons dedicated to making nothing but with laughter, family, and new and old friends.)

All of this feels, to misquote the newest Selena Kyle, a little like the moments before a storm.

Here's hoping that I'm wrong; still, it feels like there's a few changes on our horizon. How we Tweet and talk about food is changing; hopefully for the better, the more respectful. (Standing on chairs to get a shot of your appetizer really is a little over-the-top.) But for all of that, I quietly advocate that there's still space for all of these odd, wonderful personalities.

After all, KW's food community was the first to welcome me; in particular with my golden ticket at Nick & Nat's Iron Chef competition. In that evening, I gained a new voice and met folks who I admire, respect, and whose lives have intertwined with mine in different ways ever since. I was a little dumbstruck as I took the guest judge's chair - "I can't talk about food; not really," I told the dark-haired woman sitting beside me, gesturing slightly to the man two seats over, "that's Andrew Coppolino, for heaven's sake."  I'd been in town for only a couple of months, but Andrew's Waterloo Region Eats was one of the first local sites I found, and I referred to it  (and continue to) as a map of the region; ideas, recommendations, and things not to miss. She smiled, distracted me with pointing out a chef's dexterous maneuver  rolling and slicing gnocchi with impossible ease, and got me talking; Anna Contini, Foodlink's project coordinator and local food advocate, is a good person to have in your corner.  Susan Cook-Scheerer of Rogers TV Cable 20's daytime (who I would meet again, later, through my work) rounded out the evening's judges. She and Andrew welcomed me to the community, as Anna introduced me, and while they all approached food from different ways of thinking, (and, perhaps, in a more cynical space, could have looked down their nose at this starry-eyed twenty-something with wild hair and wilder metaphors) their welcome was genuine and their thoughts (on the food, on the night itself, on the community and connecting with it) each added something different to the event.

I've a weakness for symbolism - after all, look: here is the neophyte, the established food writer and personality, the media, the community benefit organization. Four judges, four different stakeholders. The thread dancing through this recollection is that there can be a place in the food industry for everyone with an interest in or connection to it. It worked, that evening; it can work on a larger scale with the right steps forward. Whether part of the traditional or independent media structures, advocate or grower, newcomer or steeped in the history and knowledge of a place/art/style, our insights and experiences, when collected, can't help but make our community stronger.

Pie-in-the-sky optimism? Perhaps. But here's to food, wine, and moments of shared wonder, even so.