Posts Tagged ‘FOOD CRITIC’


Posted on February 9, 2015 - by

Eight Rules for finding Decent Food–almost anywhere! @lucyburdette

LUCY BURDETTE:  Food matters deeply to my food critic character.  And to me too! If either of us get too hungry, we’re miserable–a poor state to travel in. After three weeks in Australia, we came up with these suggestions for finding good food on the road…
Mex and Co in Manly

1. Go where the lines are. We found this little Mexican place in Manly when we looked in the window and saw baskets of homemade tortilla chips and margaritas in mason jars. And then I remembered I’d seen it recommended on Yelp by a California girl–who would know better? We weren’t able to get in that night but believe me we showed up 15 minutes before opening the next night.

2. Which brings me to the law of converging suggestions. Try Yelp or Tripadvisor, but it helps if more than one person recommends, and also if you can get a sense of what kind of eater they are.


3. When desperate for something not too foreign or in doubt about the choices, go to the museum cafe.

Here are my hummus and olives from the Sydney Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.

Sydney Harbor

4.  Steer away from tourist traps on the main drag. Be leery of these recommendations. (For instance, I would never start with a restaurant right on Duval, though of course there are exceptions!)

But sometimes the food can be sacrificed if the view is good enough (e.g., the cafe outside the Opera House), even if the folks at the next table are a little annoying…

Parma at the Royal Mail on Spencer

5.  Try the local specialties. Parma turns out to be fried chicken with ham and cheese and tomato sauce baked on, which is a regional specialty in Melbourne. And we were crazy for the homemade curried mustard, too, at The Royal Mail on Spencer in Melbourne.

6.  Eat what’s local and fresh. (This was a flower bed planted with lettuce in Sydney!)

7. Ask people who live there. We went to Little Creatures in Melbourne on our nephew’s recommendation.

And then ran into the chef and waitress from the restaurant we’d visited the night before–we struck gold with their recommendations of roasted corn, pulled pork,

Little Creatures in Melbourne

and these decadent salted caramel-stuffed donuts–served warm with ice cream:).

Cait with Lucy

8. If you’re in a city, look for a foodie walking tour. In Adelaide, John and I booked places for a tour called Feast on Foot. Cait, a lively city resident, took us to six of her favorite spots where we tasted falafel and dolmades, duck tacos,

duck taco  at Mall Food

spoonfuls of incredible salted caramel, pork bbq buns, cupcakes and more.

And she gave us city history and a tour of street art, too–the best way to see Adelaide!

And here’s an article on the pros and cons of visiting Australia and New Zealand, with tips!


Posted on October 10, 2011 - by

An Appetite for Murder–just a nibble!

AN APPETITE FOR MURDER by Lucy Burdette

Chapter One

“A hot dog or a truffle. Good is good.”  James Beard

Lots of people think they’d love to eat for a living. Me? I’d kill for it.

Which makes sense, coming from my family. FTD told my mother to say it with flowers, but she said it with food. Lost a pet? Your job? Your mind? Life always felt better with a serving of Mom’s braised short ribs or red velvet cake in your belly. In my family, we ate when happy or sad but especially, we ate when we were worried.

The brand new Key Zest magazine in Key West, Florida announced a month ago that they were hiring a food critic for their style section. Since my idea of heaven was eating at restaurants and talking about food, I’d do whatever it took to land the job. Whatever. But three review samples and a paragraph on my proposed style as their new food critic were due on Monday. Six days and counting. So far I had produced nothing. The big goose egg. Call me Hayley Catherine “Procrastination” Snow.

To be fair to me, some of the blockage could be traced to the fact that Kristen Faulkner—my ex’s new girlfriend and the woman whose cream sauce I’d most like to curdle—happened to be the co-owner of Key Zest. What if she judged the restaurants I chose impossibly lowbrow? What if she deleted my application packet the minute it hit her inbox? Or worst of all, what if I landed the job and had to rub shoulders with her every day?

My psychologist friend Eric had suggested ever-so-sweetly that it was time to quit thinking and start eating. Hence, I was hurrying along Olivia Street to meet him for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants on the island, Seven Fish. Of course, I’d left my roommate’s houseboat late because I couldn’t figure out what to wear. I winnowed it down to two outfits and asked Evinrude, my gray tiger cat, to choose. Black jeans and a form-fitting white T-shirt with my shin-high, butt-kicking, red cowgirl boots? Or the cute flowered sundress with a cabled hoodie? From his perch on the desk, the cat twitched his tail and said nothing. But I bet Kristen would never go for “cute.” I shimmied into the jeans, scrunched a teaspoon of hair product into my still-damp auburn curls, and set out at a fast clip.



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