Inside My Table #91 | Excerpt
Editor’s Letter—Our Quinceanera
For a moment, go back to the summer of 1994 and recall what the local food scene was like. If you can believe it, Starbucks had not yet arrived in Houston, though an army of baristas would invade the city within a few months and quickly multiply. No bartender called himself a “mixologist.” Wines-by-the-glass came in two flavors: house red and house white. And who could pronounce, much less spell, “chipotle”?
Houston had no farmers’ markets. There was no Hong Kong Food Market, Super H Mart, Central Market, Mi Tienda or Phoenicia Specialty. Our sprawling Chinatown, today teeming with Asian restaurants of every kind, had not yet surpassed the original Chinatown east of downtown. There was no such thing as “wraps.” Tex-Mex, not Mexican food, ruled (Pico’s being a rare exception). Sushi was still a little bit scary. Cost of an average restaurant meal in Houston, according to the Zagat Survey, was $13.67.
The Food Network, then just six months old, wouldn’t be added to Time Warner’s local Houston line-up until 2001.
As they say, we’ve come a long way, baby. And My Table has been here to report and comment every two months for 15 years.
We’ve been working on this special 15th anniversary issue for a few months now, and I’ve set out to recount the growth (and stumbles) of the magazine in our cover story that begins on page 30. I hope our little stroll down memory lane brings back some fond memories for you, as it did for us.
As you know, it’s tough to be a publisher these days. Magazines and newspapers are expiring on all sides. I have always loved print journalism, so it’s a bittersweet time to celebrate our success.
When I first thought about creating _My Table), I certainly did not plan on publishing a magazine. I just wanted to do a simple little restaurant newsletter. The reality turned out to be something like holding a tiger by the tail: I go where I’m yanked, trying my best to hold on and not get eaten up. I must thank all of you – contributors, subscribers, advertisers, cheerleaders – who made my little dream come truer than I had the imagination to envision.
