I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack. . .

A lot of people have told me that they think it would be awesome to have my job and they want to know more about what it's like to be a food writer. Well, while I'd never complain about my work, here are some of the ups and downs:

Ups:
Free food. Amazing service.
Meeting celebrities and seeing what they're really like.
Getting a table pretty much any time I want one (I NEVER, EVER abuse this privilege).
Hearing about new trends early.
Trying the chef's new dishes first.
Enjoying luxe locations and occasional overnight accommodations.
Being invited to all kinds of goings-on.
Being on chefs' and winemakers' holiday gift lists.
Not having to settle for well drinks.

Downs:
Server and management at my table every 5 minutes, "just to see how things are going."
Meeting celebrities and seeing what they're really like.
Being the 800-pound gorilla in the room.
Five days. Five restaurants. Serum cholesterol test on day six. . .
Two lunches in three hours because I'm on deadline.
People who want to use me.
Fake people.

Here's my favorite part of my job: I get to meet amazing people and see them in action. Case in point: Sometime in the recent past I was reviewing a restaurant. The five tables in my server's section were so close together, she could barely insert herself between them. Besides me (the known reviewer), she had two seasoned citizens who wanted the menu "their way," two tourists who fancied themselves restaurant savants, and a man who'd brought his wife - who had dementia, Alzheimer's or both - to dinner. The server never batted an eye. She treated me with grace, she accommodated the seniors, she calmed the tourists down and sent them on their way with a map to places for breakfast, and treated the wife with dementia as if she were her own grandmother.

I over-tipped, but probably not enough. Watching the woman work was inspirational. She was a portrait of patience and compassion. I'm thinking that if you look around, you'll see plenty like her in your everyday life. But you have to look. Your server has to be a human being in your eyes. So does your driver, your masseur, and your stylist. They are often among the most amazing humans you'll ever meet. Open your eyes. Admire the class in the person who's serving you.

That's what it's like to be me.