I don't follow a lot of food blogs these days, in fact any of the days for that matter....You would think that if I love doing this so much naturally I would follow a lot of other food blogs to draw inspiration and creativity from. I follow three. I don't know why I follow them. I never read them. The truth is, its not that I think other food blogs are lame, I just don't have the time.
Earlier today I was boogie-boarding through the world wide web and I started looking at some other food blogs. I stumbled upon one that was refreshing because it was run by a girl closer to my age and not some turtleneck wearing mom who wants to teach everyone about "whole grains" (sorry moms). I perused through her blog, reading a post here and there, clicking on the vast array of tabs displayed at the top, reading recipes she posted, etc etc. To my dismay it only took me a minute to realize that her food blog was better than mine. And I'm not talking the quintessential sports movie "we overcame adversity and unified as a team only to lose by 1 point in the last second" kinda close. No, it was more of the "Apollo Creed vs Ivan Drago" type close. And I was Apollo Creed. Yeah, it was a closed casket...
In order to prevent all six of my followers from jumping ship and following the girl I'm talking about, she will forever remain "Jane Doe". I spent another 10 minutes or so analyzing the layout, it was almost perfect. She even monetized the site! I mean, I had no idea you could blog that good. Reminds me of the first time Clapton heard Hendrix play live:
"There was also curiosity from the emergent powerhouse of British blues: Cream and Eric Clapton. There was a particular night when Cream allowed Jimi to join them for a jam at the Regent Street Polytechnic in central London. Meeting Clapton had been among the enticements Chandler had used to lure Hendrix to Britain: "Hendrix blew into a version of [Howlin' Wolf's] 'Killing Floor'," recalls Garland, "and plays it at breakneck tempo, just like that – it stopped you in your tracks." Altham recalls Chandler going backstage after Clapton left in the middle of the song "which he had yet to master himself"; Clapton was furiously puffing on a cigarette and telling Chas: 'You never told me he was that fucking good.'"To be fare to myself, we really do have different styles all together. Hers was more geared towards providing actual recipes, and educating her followers. I would like to say mine is more plot driven? I give you stories that are fueled by my passion for food. That's all I got.