We have arrived yet again, gentle reader, at another milestone for Exploring Food My Way: the second anniversary of my first post (technically that would be tomorrow, but skipping a post on Friday and posting on Saturday instead would fall outside my normal posting schedule). While I was happy to celebrate successfully writing on my blog for one full year, the fact that I've continued to do so for an additional year has helped give me a sense of purpose and accomplishment all at the same time.
Looking back over this last year, I realize that I've discovered some very tasty places to eat, done some very cool things, and met some incredibly cool people along the way, both readers and others in the culinary and media fields. Something you realize very early on is that even though northeast Ohio covers a lot of square miles, it really is a pretty tiny place and it turns out that everybody seems to know EVERYBODY. Six degrees of separation is much more close to two.
So now, to commemorate the past twelve months of work, let's take a look at Tino's Top Ten Totally Tremendous Things about year number two:
10. Winning free tickets to the Top Chef event at St. John Medical Center and having a great time attending with my friend Edsel.
9. Eating (and surviving) my way through The Lenten Project. My love of fried fish and pierogi knows no bound.
8. Being able to happily announce the opening (or discovery) of some great restaurants and the sadness involved in announcing some closures (Baricelli Inn and Bar Symon).
7. Being in complete and utter awe that people from all parts of the world have taken time out of their busy lives to visit my website 100,000+ times since I started keeping track back in May 2009 (as of 12/17/2010 12:00:00 AM, the number was 101,552).
6. Being asked to give cooking demonstrations at both the Howe Meadow and Hudson Farmers Markets.
5. Meeting Lisa Abraham and having an article published about me and the blog in the Akron Beacon Journal (the original article has been archived, but this link is the exact same story).
4. Being asked to be a judge at both the Autism Chili Cook-off and the March of Dimes Signature Chef's Auction.
3. Being able to cook and share a number of great meals for my grandmother.
2. Adding critical reviews of another 150+ restaurants to my considerable base.
And, of course, no Top 10 list would be complete without an awesome number one:
1. Being banned from my very first restaurant. Ironically enough, the article I posted about getting banned received FAR AND AWAY more attention than the original review I wrote on the restaurant itself. Even with Wendy Williams's help.
I really could not have predicted that this was where I would be two years ago. I am hoping for even bigger things to happen in my third year of blogging about anything related to food. I’d love to be able to parlay all of these connections and the experience of writing, editing, and publishing a blog into something full-time in the food and/or writing industry, not something I do just as a hobby that I love.
Of course, I want to finish this second retrospective by thanking all of my faithful (and even the drive-by) readers. It's an odd feeling to know that you aren't just writing in a void and that people not only enjoy what I write but also interact with me and each other through comments and emails. I particularly like that about the blogging community and I hope that aspect continues on for a long time.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming ...
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anniversary. Show all posts
Friday, December 17, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Grandpa, Still Gone And Still Not Forgotten
Today marks the second anniversary of my grandfather's death. It seems a little odd that one year ago when I wrote up a blog entry recalling some of my favorite memories relating to my grandfather, I remember feeling a fire inside of me. It was as if my fingers couldn't type fast enough and in one fell swoop, everything that had been pent up in my brain and simmering for so long just flowed from my fingertips to the keyboard, already edited and ready for publication.
Today's entry has not been as forthcoming. It isn't that there is a lack of stories I could recall. Oh, no, I've got plenty of those. I simply think that I may have moved on in the grieving process and while I do really miss my grandfather, I firmly believe that I've stopped mourning for him. I miss him, sure, but the pain has subsided. Actually, I don't even know if that's the right way to say it, because before my grandfather, I'd never lost someone so close to me. All I know is that a year ago, I had angst. Now? Not so much.
My grandmother and I sit around now and occasionally bring up how much he used to like to both grill outdoors and enjoy his Manhattans, speculating that he may have liked the cocktails a touch more than the cooking. I remember doing post-dinner walks with my grandfather when I was a little boy, exploring the new housing developments that had sprung up near their home on Dohner Drive. My grandfather was in the habit of chewing on scallions to keep the mosquitoes at bay. I don't know what kind of repelling effect it had on the mosquitoes, but I'm sure my grandmother wasn't too fond of it.
I have fond memories of butter basted eggs in the morning; not-so-fond memories of ham salad sandwiches for lunch, perched in front of the large console television set watching Dorothy Fuldheim on the mid-day Channel 5 news; the ever present mid-afternoon Shirley Temple, my glass of lemon-lime soda studded with as many of the maraschino cherries as I could humanly fit (and that my grandparents would allow); and the occasional snack I would enjoy in the evenings, when a favorite past-time of my grandmother's was to play Down And Out, a dice game where you roll and move sliding tiles.
My grandparents' house was where I learned what Peter Pan peanut butter tasted like. Our house had always been a JIF household, and the notion that all peanut butter was NOT created equal was somewhat of a revelation to me at such a young age. To this day, even though when I have a choice I will pick an all natural peanut butter, I can always tell when a restaurant uses Peter Pan. It has a very particular sweet and salty flavor to it.
I think what I will always regret, and I suppose this must be the final stage of grief, is that I won't be able to share those communal experiences, like eating and talking, with my grandfather anymore. I speculated a year ago and I think it is still an appropriate notion that my grandfather would be, if nothing else, fascinated by the idea of what this blog has turned into. He would've even been more fascinated to learn that through such little promotion of my own, I have managed to attract a core of loyal readers.
I don't know that he would've understood the technological components behind writing a blog (my grandmother has a very tenuous grasp on the concept at best), and I don't know that I would've wanted to get into another, "But what the hell is DOT COM?" two-hour discussion with him, but I think the underlying principle that I've somehow shared my experiences with you is an idea he could connect with strongly.
My grandfather and I disagreed on a lot of topics, politics being among the most common. And I will concede that we even had differing opinions on some aspects of food. He was always of the opinion that the potato should come on a plate separate from the meat and a sprig of parsley was all that was required to dress up a nice steak. Personally, I enjoy a plate with a bit of height and pizazz. But the one place where we always came together was on taste. He may not have known much about how to prepare most food, but he knew a good plate of food when it was put in front of him.
Once again I will find myself in the not-so-uncommon position of being at the Velvet Tango Room after work today and I intend to enjoy a Tango Manhattan on his behalf.
Grandpa, I just wanted you to know that I'm trying my best to take care of Grandma with the time she has left here with us and that we are looking forward to that point in the future when you two can be the loving and cantankerous couple once again.
Today's entry has not been as forthcoming. It isn't that there is a lack of stories I could recall. Oh, no, I've got plenty of those. I simply think that I may have moved on in the grieving process and while I do really miss my grandfather, I firmly believe that I've stopped mourning for him. I miss him, sure, but the pain has subsided. Actually, I don't even know if that's the right way to say it, because before my grandfather, I'd never lost someone so close to me. All I know is that a year ago, I had angst. Now? Not so much.
My grandmother and I sit around now and occasionally bring up how much he used to like to both grill outdoors and enjoy his Manhattans, speculating that he may have liked the cocktails a touch more than the cooking. I remember doing post-dinner walks with my grandfather when I was a little boy, exploring the new housing developments that had sprung up near their home on Dohner Drive. My grandfather was in the habit of chewing on scallions to keep the mosquitoes at bay. I don't know what kind of repelling effect it had on the mosquitoes, but I'm sure my grandmother wasn't too fond of it.
I have fond memories of butter basted eggs in the morning; not-so-fond memories of ham salad sandwiches for lunch, perched in front of the large console television set watching Dorothy Fuldheim on the mid-day Channel 5 news; the ever present mid-afternoon Shirley Temple, my glass of lemon-lime soda studded with as many of the maraschino cherries as I could humanly fit (and that my grandparents would allow); and the occasional snack I would enjoy in the evenings, when a favorite past-time of my grandmother's was to play Down And Out, a dice game where you roll and move sliding tiles.
My grandparents' house was where I learned what Peter Pan peanut butter tasted like. Our house had always been a JIF household, and the notion that all peanut butter was NOT created equal was somewhat of a revelation to me at such a young age. To this day, even though when I have a choice I will pick an all natural peanut butter, I can always tell when a restaurant uses Peter Pan. It has a very particular sweet and salty flavor to it.
I think what I will always regret, and I suppose this must be the final stage of grief, is that I won't be able to share those communal experiences, like eating and talking, with my grandfather anymore. I speculated a year ago and I think it is still an appropriate notion that my grandfather would be, if nothing else, fascinated by the idea of what this blog has turned into. He would've even been more fascinated to learn that through such little promotion of my own, I have managed to attract a core of loyal readers.
I don't know that he would've understood the technological components behind writing a blog (my grandmother has a very tenuous grasp on the concept at best), and I don't know that I would've wanted to get into another, "But what the hell is DOT COM?" two-hour discussion with him, but I think the underlying principle that I've somehow shared my experiences with you is an idea he could connect with strongly.
My grandfather and I disagreed on a lot of topics, politics being among the most common. And I will concede that we even had differing opinions on some aspects of food. He was always of the opinion that the potato should come on a plate separate from the meat and a sprig of parsley was all that was required to dress up a nice steak. Personally, I enjoy a plate with a bit of height and pizazz. But the one place where we always came together was on taste. He may not have known much about how to prepare most food, but he knew a good plate of food when it was put in front of him.
Once again I will find myself in the not-so-uncommon position of being at the Velvet Tango Room after work today and I intend to enjoy a Tango Manhattan on his behalf.
Grandpa, I just wanted you to know that I'm trying my best to take care of Grandma with the time she has left here with us and that we are looking forward to that point in the future when you two can be the loving and cantankerous couple once again.
Friday, December 18, 2009
One Year Anniversary: A Retrospective
I can't believe it has already been one year since I started writing and posting on Exploring Food My Way. What started out as a venue for me to talk about bread-related topics (which is where the Breads My Way blog originated), the tone and focus of the topics has ranged from eating to cooking to baking and even silly odes to my grandmother's green fluff. In the short year that I have been writing, I have been shocked and thrilled at the number of people I have met both on-line and, more amazingly, in person. Had someone told me that a by-product of writing a blog is meeting people, I wouldn't have believed them. I do now.
I look back at the first handful of write-ups that I did when I first posted and realize how much my writing style has changed over the course of just one short year. It seems obvious that one's style improves with practice, but I think there was a bigger Eureka! moment for me which occurred about three months into writing the blog. That shift was the discovery of you, gentle reader. What started out for me as more of an on-line journal I figured that only a few of my friends or family members would bother to read, morphed into the realization that a public blog that was searchable by any number of Internet search engines will bring in readers from all over the world.
To say that I changed how I wrote because I discovered that people were reading what I had to say is a truth, albeit a half-truth. I think what really happened, and continues to happen to this day, is that my writing is driven not specifically for my readers, but with the readers always in the back of my head. I wanted to make sure that I continued to post high quality, well written and edited pieces that not only informed people about the culinary world around them, but also entertained at the same time. What better way to drive home the point of a good story than with a laugh or two, right?
One of other interesting things I've learned from writing a blog for a year is the consistent effort you need to make to always come up with fresh ideas and new perspectives. What turned out to be just another weekend out at "The Lake" with my friends ended up with The Best Canned Corn You Will Ever Eat. An invitation to my friend Nancy's Passover and Rosh Hashanah celebrations resulted in some of the best photo-driven documentation stories that it was my honor and privilege to write about. I honestly thought by this point, I would be getting tired of doing this and I would've let it fall by the wayside. I've kept journals and blogs before, and while I was always gung-ho when I started, after I filled the void that writing gives me, the entries would gradually taper off and finally just stop.
Writing about food has been different though. Every time I thought I might have writer's block, I just sat down, tuned out my entire environment, and just started writing. Sometimes I would have to go back and rewrite entire sections of a post to get the right tone. Other times, like in my entry on my late Grandpa, it was as if the entire post had already written itself in my head and I was simply taking dictation as the words flowed freely from my brain to the keyboard. As I've pointed out here before, what I do here on Exploring Foods isn't rocket science. I don't hold a special degree, I haven't taken a special "blogger" class, and I don't think that my viewpoint is any more valid than anyone else's. What I do have is passion. Passion for food, passion for finding others who are passionate about food, and passion for writing about my experiences, be they good or bad.
I won't bother you with a recitation of statistics; that would be boring and silly and the only person who cares about that is me. I would like to point out, however, that since I started keeping track of my page loads at the end of April 2009, I have seen traffic quadruple in the last eight months. Some readers are of the one-time drive-by variety, directed to my blog by a Google search. Others find my blog through a link on another site or through a search engine and discover a connection to something they read. I always love to log into my statistics software to discover someone new who felt compelled to read the last forty entries that I've posted as they sit in front of their computer for hours on end. It is a real high for me because I feel like what I have written has really connected with them. At the same time, I get that my writing style isn't for everyone and I'm okay with the one-timers, too.
I want to thank all of my readers, whether you are a one-timer or a returning visitor. Granted, I think I would've continued to write and post even if I didn't know about any of you, but you have made this adventure that much more fun. The exposure I've gotten as a result of the blog has allowed me to meet many wonderful new people in my life and experience several food opportunities I might not have gotten otherwise.
As an anniversary present to myself, I had a longtime friend of mine who has helped me in the past with PR and Marketing, design a business card for Exploring Food My Way. I found that when I am out in the real world and people discover that I write about food, many are interested in checking it out for themselves. Unfortunately, expecting people to remember the web address for this site is unrealistic. So, with my friend Jayni's help, she assisted me in focusing my vision for the new business cards. Here is the final version:
If we happen to run into each other sometime soon, feel free to ask me for your very own card; I'll be happy to give you one (or five) to help spread the word. Thanks for your continued readership and I'm looking forward to another successful year here at Exploring Food My Way!
I look back at the first handful of write-ups that I did when I first posted and realize how much my writing style has changed over the course of just one short year. It seems obvious that one's style improves with practice, but I think there was a bigger Eureka! moment for me which occurred about three months into writing the blog. That shift was the discovery of you, gentle reader. What started out for me as more of an on-line journal I figured that only a few of my friends or family members would bother to read, morphed into the realization that a public blog that was searchable by any number of Internet search engines will bring in readers from all over the world.
To say that I changed how I wrote because I discovered that people were reading what I had to say is a truth, albeit a half-truth. I think what really happened, and continues to happen to this day, is that my writing is driven not specifically for my readers, but with the readers always in the back of my head. I wanted to make sure that I continued to post high quality, well written and edited pieces that not only informed people about the culinary world around them, but also entertained at the same time. What better way to drive home the point of a good story than with a laugh or two, right?
One of other interesting things I've learned from writing a blog for a year is the consistent effort you need to make to always come up with fresh ideas and new perspectives. What turned out to be just another weekend out at "The Lake" with my friends ended up with The Best Canned Corn You Will Ever Eat. An invitation to my friend Nancy's Passover and Rosh Hashanah celebrations resulted in some of the best photo-driven documentation stories that it was my honor and privilege to write about. I honestly thought by this point, I would be getting tired of doing this and I would've let it fall by the wayside. I've kept journals and blogs before, and while I was always gung-ho when I started, after I filled the void that writing gives me, the entries would gradually taper off and finally just stop.
Writing about food has been different though. Every time I thought I might have writer's block, I just sat down, tuned out my entire environment, and just started writing. Sometimes I would have to go back and rewrite entire sections of a post to get the right tone. Other times, like in my entry on my late Grandpa, it was as if the entire post had already written itself in my head and I was simply taking dictation as the words flowed freely from my brain to the keyboard. As I've pointed out here before, what I do here on Exploring Foods isn't rocket science. I don't hold a special degree, I haven't taken a special "blogger" class, and I don't think that my viewpoint is any more valid than anyone else's. What I do have is passion. Passion for food, passion for finding others who are passionate about food, and passion for writing about my experiences, be they good or bad.
I won't bother you with a recitation of statistics; that would be boring and silly and the only person who cares about that is me. I would like to point out, however, that since I started keeping track of my page loads at the end of April 2009, I have seen traffic quadruple in the last eight months. Some readers are of the one-time drive-by variety, directed to my blog by a Google search. Others find my blog through a link on another site or through a search engine and discover a connection to something they read. I always love to log into my statistics software to discover someone new who felt compelled to read the last forty entries that I've posted as they sit in front of their computer for hours on end. It is a real high for me because I feel like what I have written has really connected with them. At the same time, I get that my writing style isn't for everyone and I'm okay with the one-timers, too.
I want to thank all of my readers, whether you are a one-timer or a returning visitor. Granted, I think I would've continued to write and post even if I didn't know about any of you, but you have made this adventure that much more fun. The exposure I've gotten as a result of the blog has allowed me to meet many wonderful new people in my life and experience several food opportunities I might not have gotten otherwise.
As an anniversary present to myself, I had a longtime friend of mine who has helped me in the past with PR and Marketing, design a business card for Exploring Food My Way. I found that when I am out in the real world and people discover that I write about food, many are interested in checking it out for themselves. Unfortunately, expecting people to remember the web address for this site is unrealistic. So, with my friend Jayni's help, she assisted me in focusing my vision for the new business cards. Here is the final version:
If we happen to run into each other sometime soon, feel free to ask me for your very own card; I'll be happy to give you one (or five) to help spread the word. Thanks for your continued readership and I'm looking forward to another successful year here at Exploring Food My Way!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
