01 Feb Don’t Let the First Year Kill You
When I was first starting out as an entrepreneur, I read an editorial in a startup magazine’s first anniversary issue entitled “Don’t Let the First Year Kill You.” It depicted a year of cold pizza at midnight, all-nighters at the office, and those moments of “What did we get ourselves into?” It hung on my wall for many years.
Given its echo of familiarity, I decided to borrow the title for our own anniversary editorial. The subject matter hits so close to home that I couldn’t let such an opportunity go to waste.
Some people wonder (and often ask me) what kind of mania would compel a person to forego a “normal” existence to take on a project that pays nothing in the first year, requires a minimum of sixteen hours a day, and has no guarantee of success. To them I say: Those are not the questions I ask myself. Instead, the question is: How could I not do it? When one’s passion for a subject is so strong, so all-consuming, one must embrace it or be faced with a constant malaise that something is missing, that there are sparks of excitement wasted as a vision is cast aside in pursuit of something easier, or more comfortable.
And so, a year later, I can look at what we’ve done here with a fierce sense of pride. Twenty people whose passion for food, wine, sensuality, and philosophy have come together to share it with the rest of the world in an effort to say something new – something profound. Not all we say is a gem of profundity, to be certain – some of it is simply our light-hearted approach to the life we have chosen.
This time a year ago I was set to move to England and get an MBA at Oxford University . Their entrepreneurship program was stellar, and after a string of startup successes I thought I was a shoo-in. They thought quite differently. Upon opening my rejection letter, I realized “It’s now or never, toots,” and this site was launched the next day.
I had spent many years eschewing a career in food writing. It didn’t pay well, and I didn’t like the subject matter in a lot of current food media. One set of writer guidelines specified “nothing too intellectual.” I realized that in order to talk about food the way I wanted to, a new venue would need to be created for it. And here we are.
To my intense delight, I found others along the way who shared my sentiment, my approach, and my passion. Many of them are on our masthead. Others have taken the time to write to us, including chefs and wine professionals, thanking us for “talking about food this way.” Such moments of encountering a like soul make up for the long hours and financial pain of startup.
Now we embrace year two, which will undoubtedly be a period of intense learning as our reader numbers continue to grow. We now know that many of you – more than we expected to arrive here – are just beginning as cooks, and that some of our recipes can appear quite daunting (or as one friend recently told me, they “scare the shit” out of him). As a result, in the coming months we will unveil a new lifestyle section that will encompass recipes that are a bit simpler, but just as elegant, and we will guide you brave cooks-to-be every step of the way, covering everything from fundamental techniques to food styling and table décor. Consider it your monthly cooking class. The first phase of this is a menu to celebrate Valentine’s Day at home, where you can play footsie with reckless abandon.
We understand that “quick and easy” is the approach that many current food publications and shows embrace, and see the reasons for such time-savers. We have decided, however, to let them focus on what they do best; we choose to be the place where cooks come for those special occasions, when quick and easy simply will not do. The amusing part is, once a cook understands fundamental cooking techniques, “quick and easy” becomes the everyday. With confidence in the kitchen comes the ability to look in the fridge, mentally put it together (with the “Mental Mouth,” my favorite term for that particular creative process), and have a meal ready in less than an hour. For those already at that level of self-assuredness behind the stove, we will continue to serve up our favorite flavor combinations in the hope that you will experiment with us.
To help craft this new section, as well as those to follow, it would be most helpful to know more about you, and what you want to learn. We encourage you to take part in our discussion forum, and to talk with us about our recipes. As an incentive, our special monthly menus and recipes are now open for discussion to non-registered guests. Your feedback is very important to us, as we see this whole experience as a conversation with you, so we hope you will take some time to share your thoughts, positive or constructive.
In offering a closing toast to our first year, I would like to thank every person who has contributed to making The Gilded Fork what it has become, from our magnificent chefs and writers to our readers, family and friends, and those who have encouraged us to keep at it through the more hellacious moments. We hope that 2006 brings us another string of successes, as well as the all-important funding to keep our momentum going. We have grand visions for this little site-that-could, and are eager to see them brought to fruition.
So please pour yourself a glass of champagne and join us in the pursuit of sensual gastronomic pleasures. There is always a seat at our table for you.
Photo: Diane Diederich