It’s funny, this food-writing world.
As someone who’s written about food and restaurants in SF for way over 10 years (7×7 since 2001; Williams-Sonoma’s failed Taste magazine; San Francisco magazine before that), I’m finding myself paralyzed by the number of food bloggers out there, ready to write about every tiny little crumb of food news before I can even double-click my mouse. Part of me wants not to care (I tell myself, at least I’m a real journalist, right? … right?); a lot of me thinks I’m losing my edge. The AARP is going to invite me to join their “How to Blog” classes soon.
Paolo Lucchesi, the very wry and funny editor of Eater SF—the place one goes to keep in the loop with everything that’s going on in this crazy restaurant-driven town—is one of those youthful bloggers that I curse daily. He’s shy in person, but he’s got a competitive spirit that makes him quick on the draw. The only thing I’ve ever scooped him on was Nate Appleman’s departure from A16. It was a big moment. I was sweating.
But generally speaking, on the blogging frontier, Paolo is Seth Bullock and, on my best day, I’m retired, aging Wild Bill Hickok waiting to get shot in the back of the head by some crazy, drunk twitterer.
Yesterday, Paolo even scooped me on Tacolicious’s own news. Of course I knew that we—along with 4505 Meats and Namu—were launching lunch on September 25 for a six-week stint on Fridays (in the courtyard of the Blu building, 10 am-2 pm, 631 Folsom Street)—but we had literally—seconds before—ironed out the details. And before Ryan Farr had practially hit “send” on his email to Paolo about it, Paolo posted it. With an image and red arrow graphics to boot (which I’ve stolen from him).
Jessica, my co-editor at 7×7, just looked at me from across our desks, sadly, as if to say, “Really Sara? Really?”
Hey, Joe and I are getting married on Saturday! We have a honeymoon to go on (speaking of which, don’t expect much writing for the next couple weeks). I have more important things to think about than our own business. Than 7×7. Than taking Paolo down, rubbing his face in the mud and sending him off to be eaten by pigs which are then roasted by Ryan Farr.
Well, that’s my excuse anyhow.