So here it is, another fuppin’ food blog. Another addition to the influx of stay-home cooks, gourmets and foodies who, not fulfilled by talking the ear off their respective spouse/partner/flatmate/cat, feel that now the whole world shall benefit from every sweaty and intimate detail of their stove-lives. (And what they think is best to do with leftover roast chicken.) So yes, I’m under no illusion or pretence that what I’m doing counts as something new and innovative. Now pardon me while I bleat like a grumpy old ewe and dive aboard the trendy, overcrowded bandwagon. As Donal Skehan turns around in the driver’s seat and cheerfully asks, ‘Where to now guys? And while you’re thinking about that, here’s a dinner recipe for a family of four using just potatoes and leftover air.’
Now if this was a morning business pitch meeting and presuming you hadn’t already thrown out your lukewarm coffee, spat out your stale Danish and stormed out of the board room on the way to the nearest line to security. This’d usually be the juncture in which you inquire, ‘Alright Farlo J (if that is your real name), what’s the deal here? Why should us busy-busy people spare a moment of our time to survey over your secluded hermit shed of web-space? What are you going to offer that’ll make the arduous task of clicking a mouse worth it?’
‘Why potential reader,’ I should reply, ‘let me list off all the features and ways that’ll make my blog the bestest blog of them all.’
I say that’s what I should do, but I won’t. And that’s not me trying to appear cocky or arrogant or in some weird flirty way attempting to play hard to get. But how many blogs have you read and it’s like, ‘Hello! My name is, I dunno, Annie Aga-lover and this is my blog!! This is where I’ll give daily updates, postings about what I’m cooking, photos, recipes, kitchen tips, essays, interviews with purveyors and organic growers, household cleaning advice, DIY instructions, basic marriage counselling, psychological profiling and a complete set of online fitness videos’ Last posted: two years, eight months ago.
I’m saying that when you begin by stating what should specifically be there, you’re kinda obliged to provide it. You're restrained, too preoccupied about what you said you'd do rather then what you want. And when you don’t provide the mantra of your mission statement you get self-important twats ‘tut-tutting’ and mentally blacklisting you as ‘promising so much yet simply unable to deliver.’ (Rumour has it my ex-girlfriends have set up a Facebook group of the same name.) In a strange way when you say you’ll do X, Y and Z on your blog, it’s almost a promise. You’ve stated an intention, raised an expectation and people expect you to follow through with it. That’s the irritating thing about promises; you kinda need to keep them.
The description says it best in all its eloquent vagueness. So as long as whatever I post falls into that category, then happy days. No ones let down. No ones ‘tut-tutting’ from their home study. And most importantly of all, no ones in a position to agree with my exes.