Accidental Food Writer

A year-end reflection on a career I wasn't expecting

Author

Jesse Raub
December 27, 2024

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Other writing:

Finding your niche against your will

Last week, my first bit of film writing was published at Bright Wall/Dark Room. It took a minute for me to realize it. I’d written about music for years and covered TV for Polygon and Vulture, but somehow I’d never written anything about movies before. I suppose that’s because I became a food writer without even realizing it. Yes, I wrote full-time for Serious Eats for 18 months, yes, I have a monthly food column at Tone Madison, and yes, I’ve been writing equipment reviews for Bon Appetit lately, but it hasn’t really sunk in as my identity. And that doesn’t even include the writing I’ve done for Edible Madison.

My expertise isn’t related to culinary school or a prestigious cooking career. Instead, like Padma Lakshmi, my food career comes from being a good eater first and foremost. Secondarily, as a longtime coffee professional, I’ve got a well-developed palate and an eye for detail when it comes to technique. In my head, testing and reviewing kitchen equipment was just an extension of my inherent interest in buying quality goods and perfecting processes—it wasn’t my calling.

But who’s to say how we define ourselves vs. how the world defines us? Most of the decisions we make every day—what to wear, what to eat, how to act, how we speak—are designed around controlling others’ perception of ourselves. Writing for publications, well, it works a little differently. While this newsletter is whatever I want it to be, it’s so rare that I get to pitch an idea to a magazine based entirely on a thought I had and see it through to publication. My TV writing opportunities have been close to that, but TV writing is usually about quantifying an experience: What is this, how does it work, and is it good enough to spend your time on it? It also follows a schedule and flow, orbiting around a release calendar that’s fine-tuned for maximum SEO presence.

Writing about Nancy Meyers—and specifically The Holiday—was something different.

To start, The Holiday is 18 years old. It’s remembered for pairing Jack Black with Kate Winslett, for being too long, and for becoming a seasonal favorite after nearly a decade of middling reviews. As a movie, it’s one of Nancy Meyers’ weakest explorations of character. And as a romantic comedy, it barely scratches the surface of desire and conflict. But it’s a movie that’s been stuck in my head forever because, above all else, it’s about an old man confronting his own mortality.

Exploring that argument over 2500 words for a brand new audience was a thrill. Out of anything I’ve written, No One Gets A Holiday From Death is the most representative of who I am. Seeing it published on a website that the big hitters of film criticism often visit, well, that’s huge.

It’s strange remembering that I started this newsletter (or at least a version of it) almost 6 years ago as a way to practice writing—something I hadn’t really done in at least a decade prior. When I began actively pitching publications, I still didn’t see myself as a writer. Now that there are dozens of pieces of mine out there in leading publications, well, I still don’t feel like a writer. But that’s something for me and my therapist to look into.

In the meantime, this newsletter will remain, primarily, a place for me to point you toward my published works until I stop getting word published regularly. I’m still waiting to hear back about a pitch that, if accepted, will annoyingly shape my persona more than it ever should. We’ll see. However, if you haven’t read The Holiday piece yet, by god, what are you waiting for?

Read

Providence is, like most modern Alan Moore works, an exploration through a concept related to mysticism and occultism. But where Promethea was an excuse to explore the magick and significance of the tarot deck, Providence is a walk through Lovecraftian ideology and lore. It’s both a prequel and sequel to The Courtyard and Neonomicon, and at times gets a little self-indulgent (who really wants to read all those journal entries?), but in the end it’s goddamned Alan Moore. He’s a brilliant writer, most of the characters are really intriguing, and I always appreciate a way to explore Lovecraftian mythos without having to read the work of a virulent racist.

Watch

Growing up, I was never a great skater. Uncoordinated, out of shape, and generally a coward, I landed a few ollies down a five-stair, could pop basic flip tricks if I wasn’t moving too fast, and generally just liked hanging out watching my friends who actually were good skaters. SLS is a great way to recapture that energy, but it’s also a really engaging competition format. Ashley is routinely as hooked into the series each year as I am, and the organization does a great job of building stories around each competitor. If you’ve ever had a passing interest in skateboarding, SLS is a great way to get back into it.

Listen

Goodrich and I overlapped in college, but it was three years before we met again at the Millennium Park Intelligentsia. He got me a job as a full-time barista when I moved back to Chicago, and we bonded over a shared love of standup comedy. After a few years, Goodrich started doing standup himself, and eventually, released an album. And you know what? It’s funny as hell. This thing is fucking hilarious. Go listen to it.

Consume

  • Radish and turnip salad with shrimp from Fairchild

To celebrate Ashley graduating with her master’s in journalism, we went out to Fairchild the other night. The meal, of course, was fantastic, but the dish I can’t stop thinking about is this turnip and radish salad with cold shrimp and a Thai vinaigrette. It was tangy, punchy, refreshing, crisp, and goddamned delicious. Most important? It’s something I never would have thought to make at home. One of the greatest joys of eating at a restaurant is experiencing food you could never cook for yourself or complicated, time-consuming techniques you don’t have the energy to invest in. Make chicken at home, get the weird cold shrimp and radish salad when you’re out.

Artwork by Ashley Elander Strandquist. You can view her illustration work here and check out her printing business here