It was one year ago when the Zagat editors approached me to take over the blog for Chicago. They were in town for the 30 under 30 party, and organized a gathering of local freelancers to fill a position that didn’t exactly even exist. The blog was a wasteland of occasionally curated content. It needed a fresh voice and, most importantly, a dedicated writer to show it some love. They liked my style, ambition, attitude or maybe just the hair, and within a month I was blogging for the restaurant survey site.
This year, the blog is without a doubt mine – a project I have nurtured and grew into my own. Something I am proud of, but still have big plans for it. The 30 under 30 list was also a project that I had more than a little say in – from the selection and writing of the list to making sure this years party ran train on last years – I had a hand in it all and it came to fruition at a party on Monday night at Nellcote.
I’m getting really tired of posting emo, depressing rants on this blog. So how about some jazz? Old jazz standards, Billie Holiday, any artist whose name ends on Cole are my go-to when I am cooking. I was driving home one afternoon when this came on the radio. It’s a song from a series of albums called Verve Remixed. The idea of the albums was to update classics with a little electronic – basically, drop “Who Needs Forever” into the hands of Thievery Corporation and see what happens. The result is an ear-tastic experience.
I know things in my life are out of order when I blog for myself and not work. Sometimes it’s death that bring me backs here, other times it’s my job, usually it has something to do with a boy – but always this space is where I put my thoughts when they are too big for my head.
Last night I covered an event, there was the usual champagne and displays of wealth that go with most newsworthy parties. The four-hour affair not only put food on display but also each of my addictions in rapid succession. The first: alcohol.
I made my grandmother cry last week while talking about a spirits article I was writing. She said she didn’t like the way I talk about liquor and I told her mixology was an art not a gateway to alcoholism. I don’t think that I am an alcoholic, but I’ve let booze ruin my night on more than a few occasions. It’s my crutch, it’s my courage and sometimes it’s even my boyfriend. Alcohol is not a good friend; it’s one of those friends who is fun to hang out with but never responds to text messages and talks shit behind your back. Continue reading
I am a 23-year-old food writer. I graduated college one year ago. I feel like I aged a decade in that year.
I’m blessed with these wonderful moments, holding a beer in my hand in a room full of the most brilliant culinary professionals in Chicago. Rather than soaking in the environment, feeding of their dedication, I find myself wondering, “Do I belong here?”
I get asked all the time how I broke into food writing. It is usually not in these rooms of chefs and fellow food writers – once you are in the club they assume you belong (like that scene in Titanic where Jack finds himself at dinner in first class) – but readers and acquaintances are shocked by the trajectory of my career. The answer starts with a smile and a shrug, and then rambles on about luck and my passion for writing. Continue reading
Obviously, I am not pregnant you fools, but a labor of love arrived in the form of a new website, identity and life for the Rundown.
I have worked for the Rundown a little less than a year. Made my way up from a lowly intern, skeptical about the company that hired me on the spot. Now, I am the editorial assistant of the site – working closely with our brilliant editorial team. For the past three months we have created the new site from the ground, changed it from ideas into a reality. We looked at color schemes and textures, played with wording and buttons, went back and fourth about photographs and features. Finally, settling on the site that was launched a few weeks ago.