One Year in Paradise
A year ago, on October 9, I launched Foodie in Paradise with a much more colorful logo and a fairly simple idea of what it might become. I knew I wanted to write about food, wine, restaurants, and the experiences that make dining memorable.
I had spent most of my working life in hospitality, so none of that territory was unfamiliar. What I did not know was how much the publication itself would evolve. That turned out to be a good thing.
There is a temptation when starting something new to define it too tightly before it has had a chance to breathe. Mission statements get written, categories get created, audiences get identified, and everything is supposed to fit neatly inside a box before anyone has had the chance to find out whether the box is the right size.
Foodie developed differently. I started writing. I paid attention to what interested me enough to keep writing about it, what readers responded to, which pieces found an audience, and which subjects kept leading naturally to something deeper. Over time, the identity of the publication became clearer.
Food and wine never went away. They are still part of what brought me here in the first place. But increasingly, I found myself writing about what surrounds the plate: service, judgment, guest behavior, and the countless small decisions that determine how hospitality actually feels.
That evolution makes sense to me now. After decades in the restaurant business, I rarely experience a restaurant simply as a diner. I notice the greeting at the door. I watch the room. I see when a server recognizes what a table needs before anyone asks. I notice when a menu makes a decision easier or harder. I think about why one dining room feels alive while another feels as though everyone is simply going through the motions.
The publication began as a place to share experiences. Somewhere along the way, it became a place to examine hospitality itself.
There are plenty of places to find restaurant rankings, lists of where to eat, photographs of beautiful dishes, and recommendations for what to order. I still enjoy all of those things. But the stories that continue to interest me most are often the ones underneath the obvious ones: why certain interactions stay with us, why some restaurants create loyalty, and how the smallest decisions can change the way hospitality feels. Those questions are harder to answer, but they are also the ones I keep coming back to.
Over this first year, Foodie in Paradise has also led to Hospitality Between the Lines, a bimonthly newsletter that gives me another way to explore the observations, decisions, and realities of the business. More recently, some of those same conversations have found another home in Table 8, where hospitality professionals can talk shop and think through the work together. None of that was mapped out on October 9, 2025. It emerged.
Maybe that is one of the better lessons from the first year. Not everything worthwhile needs to arrive fully formed. Sometimes you set the table, invite the conversation, and pay attention to what keeps showing up.
The audience helps tell you what matters. The writing helps tell you what you care enough about to keep exploring. Gradually, a publication begins to show you what it wants to become.
Foodie in Paradise is still about eating well, drinking well, traveling, restaurants, and savoring the moments that make life richer. I hope it always will be. But one year in, I understand it a little differently. It is also about the people who create those moments, the decisions behind them, and the craft of making someone feel that their presence mattered.
There is still plenty I want to explore. For now, one year feels less like a milestone than a good place to look around the room, appreciate who has joined me at the table, and keep the conversation going.
Savor Every Moment™
