Is the term ‘food writer’ a valid description?

I subscribe to a variety of culinary websites, including Christopher Kimball’s Milk Street. In his most recent Milk Street email, Kimball staked out a controversial position on food writers, saying that “[t]he entire notion of being a “food writer” is suspect, since it should be no different than being a writer,” amidst a rant about the state of modern food writing. He opined that today “food writers take something simple and sex it up, using a panoply of empty, decorative adjectives,” intimating that back in the good old days, food writing was simpler and more direct, therefore it is superior to the current discourse.

Kimball expands on this analogy to decry American food tastes, noting that during his recent trip to Calabria, the people there wanted “familiar, local foods that maintain their natural character” as opposed to Americans who “long for Awesome Pretzel Chicken Tenders.” Continuing this arc, he says “A well-prepared burger does not need Donkey Sauce. Dinner does not have to be performance art. Ovens would be just fine with two settings—bake and broil—instead of twelve.” The entire email had “old man yells at cloud” energy.

Railing at what he perceives as excess has been part of Kimball’s act for a long time. In 2012, he told The New York Times’ Alex Halberstadt: “I hate the idea that cooking should be a celebration or a party…Cooking is about putting food on the table night after night, and there isn’t anything glamorous about it.” Later in the article he is quoted as saying “There’s something about pleasure I find annoying.” It’s no wonder he doesn’t enjoy flowery descriptions or sensual metaphors about food.

Pining for the ‘good old days’ is also part of Kimball’s aura. Ever since his Cook’s Illustrated days, Kimball has projected the persona of an everyman, centering his soliloquies in a simple Vermont farmhouse where he writes fondly about farming, cutting wood, tending cattle, and other salt-of-the-earth activities. It’s obvious to those who grew up on or around farms that this is rural cosplay. No one who must chop wood throughout the summer and fall to keep his house warm during the winter is writing a sentimental exposition about the task. Kimball passes himself off as an “aw, shucks” rural native when he actually grew up in tony Westchester County, New York and went to an elite private preparatory school. (His family did have a vacation home in Vermont.) Someone who takes trips to Calabria to soak up the local culture is not exactly an everyman.

There is a kernel of truth in what Kimball is saying; certainly over-the-top, banal food writing exists. But to dismiss the entire notion of ‘food writer’ as being illegitimate is silly. What other term would one use to describe someone who mostly writes about food? If ‘food writer’ doesn’t exist, then there are also no sports writers nor business writers. ‘Food writer’ is a descriptive shortcut which should satisfy Kimball’s longing for simplicity. Likewise, while it is true that many Americans like exuberant food and generous portions, it’s reductionist to characterize every American as pining away for the latest special at a big chain restaurant while depicting all Calabrians as devotees of the Slow Foods movement. Some Calabrians probably love Applebee’s. Plenty of Americans appreciate simple foods, well prepared. The farm-to-table movement is everywhere, in case Kimball hasn’t noticed.

I write this as I look at two full shelves of books written or edited by Kimball. He says in his email that he is not trying “to skewer modern food writers, some of whom are quite good at their craft.” Likewise, I am not trying to discredit Kimball’s long history of producing quality material. Cook’s Illustrated was instrumental to my growth as a cook, and I have found many satisfying recipes in Milk Street cookbooks. I just wish he’d abandon the schtick and promote the things he likes without denigrating things others enjoy. Dinner can be performance art if you want it to be. If you like Donkey Sauce, use Donkey Sauce! I appreciate all ten of my oven’s settings, and if I am offered Awesome Pretzel Chicken Tenders I will happily try them.