I'm writing this letter to thank you for the years of excellent articles and fabulous recipes. You made me a better cook. You inspired me to try to cook more difficult things, and you introduced me to the wider world of cuisine. You helped me woo my wife. I still cook things from your magazine. Like that yummy scallop thing. Or that yummy rib recipe.
It's because of our great past together that it pains me to write this. I'm leaving you. After 12 years, I won't be renewing my subscription. It's not me, it's you. Really. Really.
You no longer seem interested in good food. For several years now I've suspected that you were phoning it in, putting in recipes that you knew no one would actually cook - better ones could be found elsewhere anyway. Did you think the internet made you superfluous? I didn't think so. Not at first, anyway.
I've been feeling like we weren't good for each other anymore for a while, but I wasn't sure. I felt loyal to you, to my own detriment, perhaps. I had a lot of happy memories. But did you honestly think that anyone would want to even open the magazine when you sent the March 2009 issue with this nasty-looking sandwich on the front? It might be delicious. It might be the best thing on earth, but it looks, well... limp. Let's be honest. You even think that's one raunchy-looking sandwich.
And what about the most recent issue - May 2009. You put a few French fries on there. Sure, you arted them up a bit, by wrapping them in wax paper, but they still look kinda dry and stale. Your magazine is entitled "Gourmet". While I agree that a good french fry can be a gourmet item, these ain't that.
It seems that the main things you're interested in are travel and cooking gear. May I suggest a new name for your publication? Like "Travel"? Or "Cooking Gear"?
While we won't have any new experiences together, we'll always have Paris.
Hugs and kisses,
Bbq Dude.
Now you've done it. You've killed Gourmet.
ReplyDelete