Food, glorious food blogs. A new one is born every three seconds. And now there's a place off the beaten cyber path for some of these bloggers to meet. On May 14-16, I’ll be retreating into the wilderness at Camp Blogaway in California's beautiful San Bernardino mountains with other fork-enabled, alphabetically inclined conspirators in nosh.
Like Oliver Twist, I will be thrust from my ho-hum, workaday existence into a world of colorful characters, where no outsiders will be allowed to witness the secretive doings of our obsessive ilk. Joining a gang of culinary masterminds, I will steal styling tips, learn to shoot, pick some
pockets brains about search engines, nab P.R. pearls, poach recipe-writing nuggets, lift a few forks, and maybe even purloin some sirloin for dinner. Like Oliver, I will raise myself up from my blogging bootstraps and learn to seduce advertisers into paying me to sit home all day and wax poetic on a laptop in my jammies (well, not exactly like Oliver).
And if I don’t walk out of the woods with the photographic chops to be the Edward Steichen of steak and the Oscar Wilde Alaskan Salmon of gastro wit, well at least there will have been the s’mores. Valrhona chocolate, handmade vanilla bean marshmallows and artisanal graham crackers laced with the finest Vietnamese cinnamon (I may be projecting, s’more or less) alone will be worth spending two nights in a cabin bunk bed* next to other flannel-clad culinarians. How could you not embrace the theme of rich blog vs. poor, and good advertiser vs. evil, only to find that in the end, love prevails. The love of food, that is. It’s a new twist on camp. And it should be the dickens of a good time. Uh oh. I'm feeling Lentil Breakdown: The Musical coming on.