Humans are a social species. We need to interact with each other, even when, especially when, those interactions result in friction. This is maybe just to say that if you dig deep enough into any social or professional group and you will see it is built on a bedrock of petty drama. This is, I believe, what fuels humanity.
Food media is no different, and sometimes it feels like it generates more than its fair share of drama. This is probably to be expected from any industry that asks creative people on all sides – chefs, photographers, writers – to monetize their artistry. People get weird. People take things too seriously or not seriously enough. And everyone holds their food opinions so dearly. This results in, say, one of my most read stories ever being about Chrissy Teigen being mad at Alison Roman. Or the entire Bon Appetit thing.
As a group who have worked in food media for collective decades, Ravenous’ five founders have dealt with our fair share of egos, misunderstandings, and frustrations. So in the spirit of honesty and good ol’ fashioned goss, here’s a tasting of the worst dramas we’ve faced in our time. Guessing at the blind items welcome in the comments.
PR A-Go-EmbarGo
I was blogging about a collaboration between a well-known food brand and a well-known skincare brand launching a lip balm together, tying into a larger story about these kinds of collaborations that the food brand had done before, and accidentally missed that there was an embargo. I published the information a day too early. I fully admit that was my mistake! But the reaction from this company’s marketing department was like I had revealed the nuclear codes. They were emailing our editor-in-chief about the egregious revelation of lip balm, as if this would make or break the company. And may I note the link to buy said lip balm was already live. So much stress over a lip balm that was, frankly, disgusting. — JS
Girls Just Wanna Interview a Source, Dude
One of my yuckiest reporting moments happened after a local reporter broke a story about a chef’s bad behavior and he returned my call to comment on the piece. It is always uncomfortable to ask someone to comment on their worst behavior and how it’s characterized in the town square. You have to just put your reporter cap on and do it. However, the moment he tried to tell me the other reporter, also a woman, was mean to him when she interviewed him, and would hardly let him get a word in edgewise, I almost let my professional face slip. Really, the hysterical woman defense? Absolutely not. He’s had two restaurants close now, so karma and the free market are doing their work. — CES
Leave the Duchess Alone!
I made the mistake of criticizing a forthcoming television program from a certain royal who is now living in California and making jam. I was assigned the story by my editor and really didn’t have strong opinions on the TV show, so I flippantly wrote about why it looked boring to me. In writing that, I didn’t consider that this stupid blog would become part of this whole bigger universe of racist, misogynist criticism of this person, and I regret that element of the piece. It got picked up in the tabloids and earned me a lot of criticism on Instagram, some of which was thoughtful and I took to heart. Most of it was just tacky and didn’t even stem from anything I’d actually written in the story. I will say, though, that I still thought the show was boring. — AM
Live and Learn
Let’s get this out of the way: None of us wear halos. Anyone who can’t say they’ve fucked up hasn’t tried hard enough. But I’ll channel what I tell my toddler: face your mistake head on and learn from it. Don’t run away. I’m talking about factual errors, not the act of reporting facts that folks don’t want to hear or hope fade to obscurity without facing any accountability or showing growth. Now that I’m done with the preamble, I’ll put myself under the guillotine.
Dana Salls Cree is a force to be reckoned as one of the best pastry chefs in the country. She’s written award-winning cookbooks and is behind Pretty Cool Ice Cream, a confectionary shop that specializes in ice cream bars and popsicles. Prior to opening Pretty Cool, I had very little interaction, if any, with her. When she announced her intention of opening Pretty Cool, it came via an exclusive with the Chicago Tribune’s Louisa Kung Liu Chu. Shortly after that story went up, I was ordered to quickly put up our own version of the story. I reached out to Salls Cree’s business partner who I had met. I didn’t get a response. Under the gun, I quickly wrote-up our version of the story based on details in the Tribune. That didn’t work out well. I missed key details in my rush and instead of putting Salls Cree front and center, my copy read like she was a spare part, not the engine. Suffice to say, Salls Cree was not happy with me and took to social media to express her feelings. All of a sudden folks like Francis Lam and Pete Wells knew who I was, and they were among hundreds who shared what was going on while I took a beating online.
The revelation is how my thick male skull failed to take into account how poorly pastry chefs — a position traditionally helmed by women — can be treated. Conscious or not, my story ignited sexist tropes. I learned a lot from the experience, to see things more clearly. Fortunately, Salls Cree has allowed me to work on our rapport. Over the years, she’s been charitable with her time in lending her perspectives to me, and I’m thankful for having the opportunity to grow. — AS
Canceled Shoot
One of the most infuriating moments working in food media was when I was told to cancel a social video shoot that was planned for several months. An editor tipped me off of an opportunity to be first to film a prominent chef at his new restaurant. My manager and department lead were thrilled to hear the pitch, especially since social video had become a major priority for the brand. Like a good teacher’s pet, I wrote up a budget proposal and a shoot plan, and then received the green light. Since it was a new restaurant in a city several hours away, I carefully coordinated my travel schedule with the restaurant and the editor who would be the host in the video. Everything was in place. A week before the scheduled date, my manager sent me a Slack message — the shoot needed to be canceled. The department lead explained that the video team wanted to take over the project as part of a new YouTube series. WTF. I pleaded to make my case directly to the video team, so they would understand my situation and see all the work I’ve already put into the project. My department lead told me blankly that I could not move forward. The day I was supposed to shoot, I was laid off. The video team never made the video. — FD
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