What's Next for Side Dish

V is for vulnerable

Ever since I landed my last full-time job at BuzzFeed’s Tasty, I’ve had a sizable online presence. It was frankly more impressive in 2017 than it is today when it seems like everyone is an aspiring influencer. I never wanted to be an actress, or even the center of attention, so seven years later I still feel like it’s been an adjustment to straddle the line between sharing what’s really happening in my life and what I think people want to see. I went from being the quiet, shy girl to waking up to tens of thousands of people following my every move.

The whole thing really started my second year in at BuzzFeed. On a whim a producer and I shot a video about cooking a three-course meal using only a coffee pot. She had been tasked with finding a new format for a potential show, and I thought it sounded like a “fun” challenge. You can imagine our surprise when it hit a million views in under 24 hours. Was it a fluke? We shot another video in the same style, this time with a clothing iron. After 8 hours, I managed to cobble together a meal, starting with caramelized onion dip and flatbread, lamb chops, and a mini crêpe cake —all made on the clothing iron. Today that video has over 17 million views, which is frankly an unfathomable number. In the years that followed, it wasn’t unusual to be stopped —at the airport in Mallorca with my friends, in line at Catbird while doing some Christmas shopping, at the grocery store, and once on a first date (long before my husband) when a woman came up to me and told me that my pancake recipe changed her life. The guy asked if I had paid her to say that. I had not.

While this was all happening, the higher ups at BuzzFeed were constantly telling me I needed to be posting more, sharing more, more, more, more. While some of my coworkers had no problem sharing some of their most vulnerable, personal experiences for all to see, I felt strongly that I wanted to keep what I shared (relatively) professional. Most days, I’m posting about what I’m cooking or eating, where I’m walking my dog, flowers in the garden, vignettes of my life. While people may know my dogs name or the highlight reel of our honeymoon, they don’t really know me. Rarely, if ever, have I shared about the more personal things that have happened the last few years, like my grandparents passing, moving home (I mean home, to my childhood bedroom), losing my dear uncle, having E. coli for two months and ending up in the emergency room, or when my mom got in a terrible accident and nearly died two years ago. I’ve just gone on posting, all without even a whisper to my larger community, about what’s really going on.

While I’m riding this wave of transparency I feel moved to share that two weeks ago one of my friends passed away, suddenly and tragically. Over 200 people showed up at his service last weekend, a testament to the person, friend, and community member that he was. He was also the partner of one of my best friends, a fact that makes it all feel somehow even heavier. I’ve found it easier to focus on showing up for her than processing what his passing means. While that’s worked in moments, there’s no real avoiding death. No stranger to insomnia, I’m back to waking up at 2 am flooded with visions of a really special meal we had together while vacationing in the Netherlands in October. I keep seeing his face, laughing next to me. Next we’re playing badminton at a summer barbecue for hours, playing darts at a dive bar in town, and then I’m watching him float across a lake in a canoe at dusk this summer, fishing pole in hand. There are so many happy memories being met with the anger and confusion of losing someone too soon that are all colliding together in my brain.

While we’ve been slowly picking up the pieces, I’ve cooked a grand total of three meals in the last two weeks (and one was frankly very weird). This brings me back to Substack. I’ve been a part of social media long enough to know the importance of feeding the algorithm (the beast) constantly is the only way to try to stay afloat in this weird world. I’ve listened to Caroline Chambers talk about how to key to her massively successful Substack is the fact she posts every single week, no matter what’s going on, at the same time. It’s inspiring and daunting all at the same time. Even in moments of grief, I know I can’t just drop off. There’s no PTO when you work for yourself.

Over the last few months I’ve tried to do some planning ahead, but I’d like to get on more of a schedule. I imagine that this would theoretically make things easier for me (when life happens and I’m just not in the mood to share) and for you (knowing that you’ll be receiving X type of content at X time).

As we approach the new year, I’d love to hear from you. Here are my questions for you, dear reader.

• What types of recipes are you most interested in?

• Do you want to read about project recipes, like gingerbread houses, or keep it more to weekday cooking? There are no wrong answers.

• Are you interested in reading posts that don’t include recipes (sometimes)?

• What’s your level of interest around hosting? Have my Cooking with Friends posts been helpful? Do you want to see more of how I gather with friends?

• In the spirit of vulnerability, do you want to hear more about my life? I feel very aware of the meme about food bloggers writing novels about their grandmothers before offering up a recipe and don’t want to be a bore.

Of course, I’d love to hear any other feedback or commentary you might have too. Thank you for all your support and enthusiasm! Really, it means the world to me.