After a break, I’m back to writing restaurant reviews.
I fell into that in 2008 when I was coaching a local Bend magazine staffer who was bemoaning the fact that she had to go dine out that evening and write a restaurant review.
“I’d love that,” I announced. “I’ve done a ton of travel writing, but hardly any food-related writing, even though I’m a total foodie.”
“You’re the new restaurant reviewer!” she replied. “I’ll let the publisher know.”
During the last few years, the magazine took a break from running a regular restaurant review. Covid didn’t exactly help. But the publisher now seems to want to bring the reviews back, so I’m back in business. And I’ll continue to do that business my way.
I’m not your typical reviewer. Too many critics look to make a name for themselves by ramping up the nastiness. If you know me at all, you know that’s not me. I understand all too well that taste is subjective.
When working as a writing coach, I’ll never tell someone that their writing is good or bad. I’ll talk about whether I think it works or doesn’t, and what I think would power it up and make it work better. Then, I make sure to point out that my opinion is just that—a subjective viewpoint.
On the food front, I also realize that just because I don’t like something doesn’t mean it’s necessarily bad. That’s why I bring at least one other diner with me to every review. More people allow for different palates. Since I lean toward savory, for example, I might find that a dish is too sweet, but my dining companions could love it, which I can then reflect in the piece. Having extras with me means that we can compare and contrast our reactions to the meal. Besides, going to a restaurant isn’t just about the food. It’s about the experience, which is a lot more fun if you’re not soloing.
Here’s to some divine dining in 2025. Yay!
