Ask RuBo: or, An Open Letter to Ruth Bourdain
In today's world of populist food journalism, in which people with questionable expertise, opinions and, often, grammar, have saturated newspapers and magazines (or what's left of them), the blogosphere and Twitterverse, and our inboxes and cellphones, it is a welcome relief to find a fictional, anonymous mashup with his-or-her own column. I'm not kidding. It's kind of wonderful. You are a happy antidote, not just to the Ritalin haiku of Twitter and the often patronizing fluff of advice columns, but to the current scene, in which people writing about food -- something as basic and necessary as air, water and a good internet connection -- has become mystifyingly chic.
In a world where rockstar chefs, novelist-slash-cookbook authors, misplaced weathergirls and out-of-work line cooks are getting their own television shows and becoming actual "celebrities," it is enormously satisfying to locate a celebrity created out of a high concept and 140 characters. Which is perhaps all that many celebrities are these days -- or should be. Our etiquette question? How to politely tell amateur cooks that they do not all need to sign up for a WordPress account.
-- Your fan
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