To everything, turn, turn, turn.
There is a season, turn, turn, turn.
And a time to every purpose under heaven.
—The Byrds
I've been writing the Weekly Planet's food column, 52 weeks a year, for two-and-a-half years, a marathon of gastronomic thrills, indigestion and restaurant trekking.
Now, I'm ready to do other things.
Looking back, I'm amazed at all the varied dishes I've sampled: everything from Croatian smoked tongue to a gooey oriental drink made from jellied seaweed to scallops I harvested myself from the grassy, sunny floor of the Gulf of Mexico. I've dined amid chandeliered splendor at the finest restaurants and snarfed campfire-charred hot dogs on a muddy, mangroved spit of land, clouded with mosquitoes.
In 2004 in the Tampa Bay area, one can choose from a wealth of cuisines — authentic Philippine and Indian, excellent Austrian and Italian, Canadian and Colombian and Californian. Everything from raw fish to good ol' hamburgers and Key lime pie. We have so many choices now to eat; there's something out there to please everyone.
Among the most expensive meals I enjoyed as a food critic was a five-hour blowout at the Chef's Table at St. Pete Beach's Don Cesar Beach Resort — six custom courses that cost $547.44 for three. (Editor's note: Nothing's too good for Ben Eason's writers when we're on an expense account. Right?) Among the least expensive meals was a satisfyingly steamy hamburger at El Cap, in St. Petersburg, which cost $2.90.
In the course of my work, I've eaten alone, forgotten at a table in a dark corner near the restroom, or with hundreds of others at snowy linen banquet tables. I've eaten on television with a microphone relaying every slurp; and at the beach, the wind blowing sand into my food.
I have eaten forcibly on deadline, and slowly over several leisurely days.
I've eaten despite broken teeth, in my swimsuit and in formals, with The Martini Tester and without him. I've eaten when I was limp from hunger and when I felt so bloatedly full that I couldn't cram another bite down my gullet; I've eaten happily and grudgingly, sparingly and voraciously.
I have been awed and, sometimes, disgusted by the food that sat before me.
What I take away from it is a deep respect for those who put their life savings, energy and skill into running an independent restaurant. It's a tough business, and my hat is off to the hardy entrepreneurs out there who fight the daily battle in the competitive culinary trenches.
I will miss the taste-testing sessions with the goofy Weekly Planet staff, colleagues in the food industry who shared their time and expertise to help me crank out a 1,000-word column every week, and the amazing creativity I found so often on the plates before me.
I won't miss those days when I sat before a blank computer screen and wondered whether another column would ever materialize, or the stress of trying to research and write a food column while juggling other projects.
It sounds strange to say, but professional eating takes a toll on your body. Almost from the beginning, my cholesterol count increased noticeably, and excessive calories contributed to "critic's middle," the spare pounds that stubbornly sit on my hips: I will not miss those.
In my dining forays, I have detected a number of local and national trends, such as a continuing fascination with ethnic cuisine, an interest in more healthful eating, and the average American's willingness to spend an increasing amount of income on food that is not made at home.
Restaurants are responding to their customers' wishes for faster service, more lively take-out items, and better-tasting and less greasy fare. Restaurant offerings are so much more interesting and diverse. Diners are more sophisticated in their preferences, they are shrewd judges of dollar value, and they vote decisively with their feet.
My advice to would-be restaurateurs: Perfect the basics. Good food. Clean dining rooms. Friendly staff. Food fads come and go, but you'll always have customers if you cover the basics.
Personally, my taste in food is changing. I prefer high-style, low-fat fare. When I am not dining professionally, I eat simply. I love organic fresh fruit salad with nutty banana bread, or a crisp green salad with exotic trimmings and a handmade dressing. When I eat meat, it's in small quantities and paired with pasta or vegetables.
When I cook at home, I like chicken breast topped with spicy sauce, or broiled fish and herbs. For dessert, I make apple crisp, its top crunchy with wheat germ, and wash it down with a sweating glass of cold, minty tea.
For the future, I plan to rededicate myself to my freelance writing business, which has suffered during my years of food writing. I had to give up teaching a couple years ago when my schedule became overloaded, and I'd like to get back to it. I will continue to write and edit books and contribute to magazines and Internet websites.
It has been a challenge and a privilege to write this column.
Farewell, dear readers. Bon Appetit!
Former Weekly Planet food editor Sara Kennedy can be reached at [email protected]. Editor Jim Harper is interviewing potential replacements. Contact him at [email protected]. Planet food critics dine anonymously and the Planet pays for their meals. Restaurants chosen for review are not related to advertising.
