Hey everyone,
On January 14th, 2004, I typed the words “amateur gourmet” into the HTML for the TypePad blog I was starting. That moment is so funny to me because the words “amateur gourmet” just popped into my head — there was no calculus or strategy meeting — it just seemed like the perfect way to describe who I was. At the time, I was a third year law student at Emory University and I’d spent the previous two years experimenting with (and frequently failing at) cooking in my tiny Atlanta kitchen.
All I knew was that (a) I loved writing and (b) I loved food. My friends Josh and Katie were the ones who told me what a blog was — I’d never heard of blogging, let alone food blogging — and they thought people would get a kick out of reading about my culinary travails. Previous to that, I’d been writing on eGullet, a food forum, where I caused a controversy panning Charlie Trotter’s, everyone yelled at me, and Anthony Bourdain came to my defense.
The blog took off and before I knew it, I was living in New York, writing my first book, dating Craig, and hosting a web show for The Food Network that took me to Las Vegas, Miami, and Paula’s Party where I met Richard Simmons. A few years later, Craig got a job in L.A., we moved there, my second book came out, I scored a job writing for TV, started my podcast, and after twelve years, moved back to NYC where I’m currently working on a novel.
A pretty jam-packed two decades, if you ask me!
So what did I learn along the way?
Food people are the best people. Almost unequivocally, the people I’ve met through my blog who also work in food have been generous, kind, and extremely open. From David Lebovitz to Melissa Clark, I’ve been welcomed into people’s homes, fed extraordinarily well, and had all of my questions answered (even the nosy ones). There’s a link between wanting to nourish people in the kitchen and wanting to nourish people in real life too. That’s why Julia Child had it right: "People who love to eat are always the best people."
Technology will shift, so shift along with it. I remember being on a bus in New Orleans with a group of food bloggers in 2011, when somebody mentioned this new app called Instagram. At the time, I think we were still figuring out Hipstamatic and I felt an internal groan like: “What’s this new thing I have to learn?” Well fast forward to today, Instagram is old hat and TikTok is where it’s at. I know so many food writers who are loathe to leave the old media behind, but a recent interview with John Waters about music set me straight (well not exactly straight): “As soon as you stop listening to new music, your life is over. You are a fart.”
@amateurgourmetCan Stanley Tucci’s zucchini pasta turn me into a zucchini lover? Well this combination of fried zucchini slices, butter, Parmesan, and black pepper definitely has a decent shot. See the results in today’s video! (You can get the full recipe on CNN’s site.) #pasta #stanleytucci #italian #zucchini #zucchinipasta #tucci #fyp #italiancooking #pastatiktok #spaghettiTiktok failed to load.
Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browserIt’s just food, don’t take it so seriously. I’ve seen so many trends come and go over twenty years, from compost cookies to grain bowls, and the older I get the more I see how silly it all is; a lot of it is just P.R. Hire the right team and pretty soon The New York Times, Bon Appetit, and Top Chef will be featuring you and your alligator jerky and making it the next big thing. Same goes for restaurants. Right now Sailor in Fort Greene is so popular, when I try to get a reservation on Resy, my phone actually laughs at me. But, really, wouldn’t I be just as happy going somewhere less buzzy — maybe even more happy because the service will be more attentive, the food not flying out of the pass to keep up with the demand?
This one also applies to food snobs and gatekeepers and those who make you feel stupid for not knowing the difference between filet mignon and filet of sole (one’s a cow, one’s a fish). I’ve met some of these people before and they give food writing a bad name. Having good taste in food isn’t the same as being a good person. I’d much rather be the latter than be the former.
Be generous, then be even more generous. Whenever I use Venmo (and I rarely use Venmo), I’m flabbergasted at the couples who broadcast their domestic reimbursements to the world. “Three carrots, two tomatoes, one radish: $7.” I’m sure there are reasons for this, but to me it’s chillier than an Edward Albee play performed inside a refrigerator.
My philosophy has always been “make too much food, spend too much money, send people home with whatever they can’t eat.” It’s a privileged way to be, I know: we don’t have any kids, except for our dog Winston, so we don’t have to worry about putting anyone through college (except Winston). But if you can afford not to be stingy, don’t be stingy! And on that note, may I suggest that you ALWAYS serve dessert? Even if you don’t have time to make dessert, buy dessert. Everybody loves dessert, even if they claim not to need dessert. Nobody needs dessert, but everyone wants it.
Follow your gut. One way to assure that you never get bored in the kitchen, that you don’t resent having to cook and do the dishes, is to only cook the things that you — specifically you — are craving at that moment. Forget everyone else. They’ll get on board eventually.
So if I’m craving sticky buns? I make sticky buns. If I want pasta? I make pasta. Sometimes I just want a salad for lunch and that’s what we’re having for lunch. If you follow your gut in the kitchen, it’ll start applying to other areas of your life. Would I rather go to the movies with X or stay in with Y? What does your gut tell you? Do that! A lot of this stems from the lesson I learned having lunch with Ruth Reichl for my first book; she yelled at me for using the word “should” as in: “How should you read a menu? How many courses should you order?” And she said: “Forget the word should! This is about pleasure!” And she’s absolutely right. If you’re not getting pleasure from cooking, don’t cook. Or if you have to cook, find the pleasure in it. If I were Julie Andrews, I’d sing a song about it right now.
So that’s twenty years worth of life lessons and culinary wisdom for you to chew on!
Not sure what the next twenty years will hold, but if they’re anything like the first twenty, I’m in for a wild ride.
Your pal,
Adam Roberts, always and forever… The Amateur Gourmet
Your reflections on what you’ve learned encapsulates why I love following your posts and writing, Adam. It’s always been clear that you’re generous, don’t take things so seriously, and “follow your gut.” Here’s to 20+ years more of the Amateur Gourmet.
…(well not exactly straight)… Adam, you crack me up. Keep up fighting the good (food) fight. Cheers to another 20. CA