In the seventies and eighties I took photos of some of our food, thinking of material for paintings - my husband was an inspired cook, simple choices in a good way and he was making a meal make sense from start to finish. He, like me, learned to cook in a kind of self defense (don't get me started about the jello with mustard though I'll admit his mother saved recipes), and then we learned about food together from the fellow I mention from time to time, Harvey. But he was the one who could make flavors sing across a meal. My niece started out cooking well, but got tamped down by circumstances, sad when I visit her and her dad in their sterile expensive kitchen (I drove him nuts by cooking in it and spent much of my visit trying to be tidy) and my ex, I don't know if he still cooks.
I once planned to make a series of pizza paintings using my own photos.. snort, I suppose there is still time. I have the photos, I have the canvasses.
well, I suppose I could show some, but not today.
On the other hand, the thing of photo'ing as a diary was boring to start with and getting worse, in my never humble opinion. Not to mention distracting.
On the other hand again, I had to photo that fried artichoke flower in Rome at one of the d'oro restaurants (I can't remember the first part, Sentimo maybe) but on the other hand again, there was no one else in the dining area of the restaurant but the waiter and me, he wanting to know about screenplays in hollywood...
I've a photo I like of a blue curacao drink on a table in our dining room. Maybe I'll find it and make it an avatar.
So, tsar, are you thinking all this photo'ing is a good thing while I sneer from being older - you and the author may be picking up on useful engagement.
I didn't take photos of my food when I visited NYC, a disclaimer re the thread title, and I am a frequenter of food blogs, and I like seeing photos on them.