Just like how I don’t understand why there are some people who enjoy taking macro shots of creepy-crawlies, there are also people who have no clue as to why I am crazy about taking food photos (yeah, even a mug of frothy teh tarik also must take).
Guess it is mostly because I love food (who doesn’t?) and I enjoy photography (yeah, right) and what better than to marry the two (which annoys the heck out of my husband but well, it might be good for his blood pressure to be annoyed from time to time).
Also, I think the gastronomic experience starts with the eye so I like to capture how a dish looks when it is served – whether it has been meticulously plated according to the rules of fine-dining establishments or not (think char kway teow or hokkien prawn noodles) does not really matter. Yes, even my own modest ‘everything-pile-on-the-plate’ meals, I like to take photos of. Practice (at every opportunity) makes perfect!
Does this make any sense? Even if it does not, never mind – this isn’t a Financial Times column.
So, eating with me can be quite a tiresome affair (and more often than not, embarrassing) because I like to snap photos of the food before I let anyone at the table dig into it. In whichever possible angle – aerial, side, 60 degrees or at various apertures, lighting and set up. And I balance the camera on anything on the table – wine glasses, plates, bowls, vases…
I guess my regular dining companions have gotten so used to such antics that whenever their food arrives at the table, they will automatically say “Go on, do whatever you have to do…and HURRY UP. I am frickin’ hungry.” But I always take my time with TBH’s food because it raises his heckles immediately.
Know what happens whenever I dine out and forget my camera? I start twitching.