The second of journalism's five aforementioned "W"'s. What. The simplest answer is the right one, as the rule goes. That answer is, well, a website. A blog, perhaps, is even more simple.
You could call it a guide, I guess. Or a consumer tool, a review site. You can call it an advice column or even a restaurant refugee's journal. A Houston foodie resource sounds good, too. Of course, I hope for all of those things on the most practical and tangible levels. But, truly, I have higher hopes than that.
In truth, I hope to start a dialog. Yes, a dialog. A conversation about food and service and Houston and the things in between. A back and forth between reader and writer. Not a one-sided continuum of Fred-Speak, but a true give and take, an ebb and flow of restaurant and food and service discussion. Not only what makes me tick, but what makes you tick. You ask, I tell. I ask, you tell.
I want this place to crackle, to breathe, to live. Like a restaurant.
A great restaurant is alive. She breathes. She hums. You feel it. As a guest, as an employee, as an owner. A great restaurant has energy and life. She has attitude. She has personality and charisma. That's why we fall in love.
A great restaurant is not only about eating, the practical, but also about food. Food as expression and joy. Truly. Places for meeting and sharing and company. They are about the people you see and know and meet. Restaurants are about service. About feeling special and being remembered. Restaurants are about relationships.
A great restaurant isn't a place where customers come to eat, it is a place where friends come to dine.
That is my goal. To share. To share about service and dining and food and Houston and to create better diners and better dining along the way.
Is that too lofty for a simple restaurant website? No. It isn't.
See, I believe that we love our restaurants. We live in them. We have breakfast. We have lunch. We have dinner. We do business. We do pleasure. We celebrate. Graduations and weddings and birthdays. We get engaged and say goodbyes. We laugh and cry. We live our very lives in these places.
In fact, we call them home.