The fat of the media

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Never trust a skinny chef? What about a stick-thin food writer? Are there any? I must admit that a year ago I piled on the pounds reviewing food and that I’ve learnt to leave food on my plate. I know Melbourne food critic Stephen Downes swims while The Age’s John Lethlean is cycling.

Super-sizing is a hazard for us all but what about Jason Perlow, the founder of egullet? According to the New York Times:

“In October, Mr. Perlow was in Denver on business for his day job as a systems integration expert. He fell ill, and what seemed like a case of altitude sickness turned into a three-day hospital visit. There he heard the grim truth: He was diabetic. He weighed more than 400 pounds, his blood pressure was dangerously high and his blood was thick with glucose and cholesterol.

A doctor told him he would be dead in five years.”

Even bloggers are at it:

“The journalists, bloggers, chefs and others who make up the Fat Pack combine an epicure’s appreciation for skillful cooking with a glutton’s bottomless-pit approach. Cramming more than three meals into a day, once the last resort of a food critic on deadline, has become a way of life. If the meals center on meat, so much the better.”