Superficiality and artificiality
IN announcing the publication of a new cookbook in the April 21 edition of The Independent (UK), Charles Campion wrote: “While there are hundreds of cookbooks published every year, it is seldom you get one that concentrates on the techniques of cooking. Many books are packed with wonderful sounding creations, but when it comes to turning out dishes that look like the ones in the glossy photographs it becomes more tricky...”
I can’t disagree with that. Even “classics” like Nora Daza’s Galing-Galing cookbook can be downright vague with instructions. For instance, in the cassava bibingka recipe, one of the ingredients is “7 c. grated coconut.” Raw or boiled? It does not say. You’d think there would be some clarification in the cooking directions but there is none.
The lack in text can sometimes be augmented by detailed photos of the cooked dishes. At least, the reader gets an idea of what the finished dish should look like. But this is only true if the photos in cookbooks are real. To understand the concept of reality in food photography, let me illustrate the distinction between food photography for a food Web log and food photography for cookbooks.
I am a food blogger. For Web log virgins, it means an online food journal. Most food Web logs are a hodge-podge of recipes, restaurant reviews and musings. In my case, I have separate food Web logs for recipes and non-recipes. When I say I have a Web log of recipes, I don’t mean a journal of other people’s recipes. I mean I document the dishes I cook at home. I am thorough and provide the details. When the occasion calls for it, I even supply information about where to buy ingredients and cooking utensils. But thorough as I’d like myself to think, I still provide photos for every recipe.
There are three reasons why photos are an integral part of a food Web log:
1) They boost the visual experience of reading a food Web log;
2) They help the readers visualize what results they are aiming for; and
3) The photos constitute proof that the recipes really work.
The photos are taken in real time. Meaning, there are no photo shoots but, rather, the photos are taken on the dinner table a minute or two before my family starts to dig in. There is never much time for presentation. Hence, presentation is limited to the choice of platter or bowl that looks well with the tablecloth. There is not much time for props either. The cooked dish is transferred to a serving bowl or platter, placed on the table and the shots are taken—fast, because the family is waiting. More often than not, the choice of platter or bowl is made before the dish is cooked. The tripod and camera are set up before the serving bowl or platter reaches the dining table.
There is no special lighting equipment. If we’re having our meal in the garden, I know exactly where to set up the camera because I have memorized the direction of natural light during certain parts of the day and year (yeah, the direction of sunlight differs in summer and Christmas). If we’re dining indoors, I know where to place the platter or bowl on the table to maximize the fluorescent lighting. And I like close-up shots to show the texture of the food.
Real food photographed in real time. Except for a short period about two years ago when I was experimenting with digital filters, since I switched to a DSLR camera, digital editing has been limited to cropping and sharpening when necessary.
But practices in food blogging are a far cry from current practices in professional photography and in the cookbook publication business.
In 2004, Shutterbug magazine published an article entitled “An Insider’s Look at Food Photography.” The author, Dennis Davis, is a California-based commercial photographer whose clients have included cookbook publishers and food magazines, among others. The article describes in detail tricks utilized by food stylists—practices that have been acquired by food photographers. The article is both enlightening and frightening. Here’s a direct quote:
“I requested a turkey prepared for a photo shoot once, and the food stylist painted the turkey with kitchen bouquet —a brown gravy base sold in grocery stores—and brown shoe polish, then browned the legs with a blow torch, and varnished it. It was photographed raw, but looked beautifully cooked and glossy, ready for Thanksgiving dinner!” And another:
“Cereal can be photographed with white glue instead of milk, because the cereal does not get soggy quickly, and the flakes stay where they are placed. Whipped cream might have thickener added, pies have glue holding them together, and vegetables that appear to be cooked are raw and touched with a blow torch and coated with glycerin to make them appear cooked.”
So, let’s go back to Charles Campion’s statement, with most cookbooks, “when it comes to turning out dishes that look like the ones in the glossy photographs it becomes more tricky...” Suddenly, it is more than a casual observation. It becomes a subconscious critique of the food publications industry. A cookbook author bakes a pie that turns out crumbly but nothing is said about that in the cookbook. Instead, the crumbly texture is made to disappear with a photo of the pie held together with glue. Someone purporting to be a whiz at making stir-fried dishes writes about tender-crisp vegetables and there’s a photo of blow torched raw vegetables that are made to look wet with glycerin.
Okay, so the photos look perfect. From a publisher’s point of view, it means a more attractive cookbook or food magazine which translates to better sales. But what does it say about truthfulness? What does it say about cookbook authors? Can they really cook? Are their recipes real? Or is the public being fed with fake expertise supported by fake images?
I have been dreaming of publishing a cookbook for a long time. In fact, I have the first draft ready. But I have realized that I may have to self-publish just to remove myself from a situation where publishers and editors will insist on imposing industry standards on me. Self-publishing is expensive. The project may have to wait a while. But that’s still preferable to having my name in a book with food photos I don’t even recognize.
The author blogs at http://houseonahill.net
