**Just Re-read this , it's very boring and pathetic- (but maybe someone will feel sorry for me and contract me! **
Please. Can someone explain to me why I am always skirting the edge of food writing success? I've written for the best. Condé Nast Traveler contacted me because they liked a photo on my crappy blog of the Cantine de Quentin and paid me handsomely for it. Monocle has put their trust in me (albeit in very tiny articles..). Time Out, Nota Bene, and Luxe City Guides have invested in me for my restaurant intelligence. Every inflight in the UK wants me (almost)- but the pay is so-so. Gridskipper, Life in Cities and a million websites have contracted me (at low cost most of the time) to give them fresh foody intell. The world's richest, most famous, most discerning gastronomes count on me daily. I know some of the best chefs in the world on a friendly basis. I've been voted best concierge in the world.I've been featured in the Figaro. And I'm still not getting the cream. I'm skimming the top off of it.
And why do I continue this blog- I mean, who the hell reads it anyway?