Hungry

Wednesday February 9th, 2011

The proliferation of food blogs has resulted in an increased demand for food photography—that is, for amateur food photography skills to illustrate the varied blog themes encountered in the gastrosphere. The blog of influential food writer Michael Ruhlman (co-author of Thomas Keller’s cookbooks) even has an entire category of posts devoted to photography approaches, written by his photographer wife Donna Ruhlman. The New York Times blog Diner’s Journal has also featured some advice on the often counterintuitive demands of shooting food that looks like we think it tastes—an issue we’ve addressed before on this blog.

Ruhlman’s blog showcases photography of ingredients and cooking processes, but another burgeoning area of food photography grows from the “citizen’s journalism” that have made sites like Yelp so famous. One new site that has carefully integrated photography into this approach to sharing and finding restaurants is Foodspotting; founder Alexa Andrzejewski discusses their use of photography in this video conversation with social media and restaurant marketing expert Paul Barron.

The dilemma, of course, is how the photography affects the work of chefs. On the Chicago Sun Times blog, David Hammond, a self-described “obsessive” who takes pictures of every restaurant meal he eats, writes that he is beginning to “get the sense, though, that chefs wish amateur photographers would dial down their urge to document every dish.” He quotes professional photographer Jeff Kauck, who learned that cutting-edge Chicago chef Grant Achatz of Alinea “sometimes worries that his food is being appreciated only visually.” When his guests whip out their iPhones at every course, “they’re not really concentrating on the aroma and thoughtfulness that went into it.”

So we’re back at the old dilemma; how does a picture of a dish capture the experience of consuming it, with all five senses?

Lately I’ve enjoyed the examples provided by some of our own professional photographers, who have dug deeper into the origins of some foods to provide the viewer another level of experience. Adrian Mullen, for example, recently explored the packaging of scallops. She writes on her blog, “when I was visiting France, I was amazed that all the scallops in the fish store were in the shell, much like you would buy an oyster or mussel. Here in the US, most all scallops are shucked at sea.”

Terry Vine ventured even further into the genealogy of an ingredient—a particularly treasured ingredient. On his blog, he writes:

For most, this would be a once in a lifetime experience: the opportunity to spend a morning going white truffle hunting in Italy! This is a truly old world business, where secrets are handed down from father to son, for generations. As was the case with Massimo, who welcomed us along on a morning of hunting for the elusive white truffle. They are the rarest of the coveted truffles with the shortest hunting season. They have an unforgettable smell, and after having them with almost every meal for a week, and unforgettable taste.

I don’t know about you, but the brief reminder of the “elusive” and “unforgettable” characteristics of truffles, combined with the spread of images documenting their pursuit, provides me with a story that is not just trying to measure up to the actual aroma or taste. Instead, it has the potential to supplement the sensual experience with a narrative, an awareness of the history of the meal. This, of course, is what makes food photography worthwhile—and very difficult.

-Asad