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My first Fancy Food Show was in 2015, on my very first day of work at Murray’s Cheese. I thought I had made it—being invited to the show and given my very own badge (badges are not cheap). Back when I worked at Fairway (the once-great food store in NYC), I certainly didn’t have my own badge. When Steve Jenkins, my brilliant, surly boss and mentor, was finished for the day (he always left to nap around 2 PM), he handed me his. People at the show thought they were hilarious saying, “Hey, Steve.”
For the uninitiated, the Fancy Food Show is the biggest trade event in the specialty food industry. It takes place at the Javits Center all the way west in Manhattan. This year, there were 2,479 domestic and international specialty food companies exhibiting across 344,000 square feet of floor space—nearly six football fields.
That’s far too many foods to meet and taste, but to make it even more overwhelming, all kinds of other tastings, events, competitions, happy hours, dinners, parties, and meetups take place in the days around the show. Madness!
I’m an extrovert who works largely alone with just me and my laptop, so I absolutely love the chance to see so many food friends from different eras of my life. I ran into coworkers from Fairway, cheesemakers I’ve written about and spent time with, my former boss at Murray’s, a lovely writer who profiled me when my book came out, a few clients, a few editors…I saw the lovely couple behind Aaji’s who I just wrote about for Edible Philly. But that just scratches the surface. It’s a spinning tornado of old friends, new friends, networking, gossip, so many sticky hugs. (NYC was brutally hot and humid and the Javits AC couldn’t seem to quite keep up).
Of course, this brings out a bit of FOMO. There are always going to be plenty of parties I’m not invited to. But I’m trying to embrace main character energy and assume the ones I am invited to are the best ones—which, clearly, they are.
My new philosophy: if I come away with one new story idea and one new connection, it’s worth it.
This year’s show also marked a parenting milestone. With my parents and Tony out of town, we had a babysitter look after the kids overnight for the first time. We’ve had the kids stay with my parents and in-laws, but this was the first time we paid someone to be there all night. It was expensive, and I was a little nervous—but I told myself it was an investment in my career and my joy. It went remarkably well. Julius had been on a terrible stretch of sleep, and of course, he slept through the night the second I wasn’t there. But I’ll take it!
It was genuinely soul-sustaining to hug so many people I care about, to nerd out about some gorgeous new cheeses, and to bring the things I love—food, people, connection—away from my laptop into human life. I stayed at my aunt and uncle’s lovely apartment on the Upper West Side and slept blissfully, uninterrupted by a chorus of “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.”
And I want to say this, too: going to the Fancy Food Show as someone in eating disorder recovery is no small thing. It feels like a deep testament to how far I’ve come that I can walk through a sea of endless samples—tequila-infused chorizo, cauliflower chips, cheesesteak dumplings (this is a hard pass but I did try them), lavender brownies, SO MUCH CHEESE, buckwheat granola, caviar, samosas, laksa (shoutout to my new bestie at Auria’s Malaysian Kitchen)—without my brain freaking out. It’s a strange, often incongruous sensory experience. My strategy was to skip breakfast and lunch, eat freely throughout the show, and also say “no thank you” freely. Then I had a big, nourishing dinner. It was fine. It was more than fine—it was fun. And I think that’s something worth celebrating.
I only stayed for two days (the show runs for three), because I had to head back to interview my brilliant friend Kelsey James for the launch of her new novel The Colony of Lost Souls. It’s juicy and rich, full of old-Hollywood intrigue, a 1930s cult, and a poignant relationship between sisters. Highly recommend—do not pass go.
And speaking of books…
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much happens behind the scenes of the books we read. The dreaming. The researching. The countless Word docs (I already have something like 7 for my novel in progress). The messy, hopeful, vulnerable process of writing a book proposal and daring to say, this could be something.
That’s what led me to create Dream to Deal, me and Kelsey Shipman’s book proposal workshop for nonfiction writers. It’s supportive, strategic, full of heart, and truly one of my favorite things I get to do. If you have a book idea you can’t stop thinking about—or even a tiny spark of one—I’d love to help you bring it to life.
The next cohort starts soon, and July 8 is the very last day to sign up.
Grab $100 off with the code SAVE100.
Let’s make your story real.
xo,
Hannah
With my lovely friend Biba at the Show.
Cheering for all the things! Overnight sitter! Fancy food! Yay!