Moving to Salt Lake City was a huge culture shock, coming from “El Lay.” Gone are the days of zipping into the Jazz Bakery or the Rainbow to hear Ron Carter or Guns N’ Roses. Gone are the days of killer hamburgers at West Beach Café or having sushi with Nobu actually behind the sushi bar. I had landed in the country of computer food, homogenized music and—good lord! Is that Up With People? No, it’s the dance majors performing in 140-degree heat at Lagoon. So much for that brilliant career in showbiz.
I discovered City Weekly that same week. Whew! And lawdamercy, it has a food critic! Enter Ted Scheffler.
Since I’ve been able to read, around 5-ish, I read the food column in the Los Angeles Times, and Mimi Sheraton and Craig Claiborne of The New York Times. I was so pleased to read a column that isn’t what one finds in smaller cities—advertising fluff about restaurants, personal vendettas and general don’t-bother-reading material. Scheffler writes a mean—as in great—column. He is sophisticated, discerning, fair and rarely off the mark. We all have personal favorites and opinions, but Scheffler doesn’t push an agenda.
His writing style would be at home in any major metro paper—no, actually, he would stand out. He has personality that shows in his writing. Really, I think he’s one of the treasures of cultural Salt Lake City. When I get the CW, I read his column first. Sometimes, I read the rest of the paper, but I do not miss Scheffler’s weekly diatribe.
It’s always good for heading out the door to a new discovery, or veering away to miss money poorly spent. Hope you all know what a jewel you have here in Mr. T.
And no, you could not pay me to move back to Cauliflowernia.