Confessions of a Hired Stomach: Erin Edwards Dishes on the Columbus Dining Scene

You may be familiar with Michael Pollan’s famously succinct advice for a healthy life: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” As an editor, I appreciate the brevity. But it’s unrealistic for we food editors of monthly city magazines—those of us charged with being proxy omnivores on behalf of our readers. With apologies to Pollan, my life as a dining editor has been more like: Eat food. Lots of it. Often rich and carb-laden. Now write about it. 

I was working as the digital editor for Dispatch Magazines when this job came open in 2016. The opportunity intrigued me, but I didn’t jump on it. I had a journalism degree but no culinary background other than that of a well-traveled eater. In a throwaway comment to Monthly’s editor at the time, Eric Lyttle, I said something like, “I’d love to do that job.” 

And I truly have. But it’s time for the check. 

There are many things I’ll miss about this job, though chronic heartburn isn’t among them. 

I’ll miss the idea that if you taste something wonderful (and colorful), you and a photographer—fortunately for me, Tim Johnson—can put the dish of affection on the cover of a glossy magazine. That never gets old. 

While living abroad in my 20s, I learned to become comfortable dining out by myself—a skill that has been invaluable in this role. I often dine at the bar and chat up the bartenders; they’ll offer you a nugget about, say, an interesting amaro or some bartending technique that may become inspiration for a story. You might even overhear some industry gossip. (This is where your iPhone Notes app comes in handy.) 

It’s admittedly ego-tickling to have a chef recognize you at dinner. But that’s not desirable if you’re trying to be treated like a regular diner—which is key to the job. It’s absurd, but I have used different names on OpenTable, hoping to avoid detection: Erin Gray (my first name and middle name, but also the actress in Silver Spoons); Erin Zegeye (what would be my married name if I'd changed it); and what sounds like the sleuth in a mystery: Gray Edwards. 

My goal has always been to create a dining section that balances the aspirational cheffy restaurants (think: Veritas, Chapman’s Eat Market and the Refectory) with the more accessible—restaurants without flashy Instagram accounts, big-name chefs or marketing budgets. I’ve tried to showcase the vast diversity of our always-changing food scene, whether it’s Phuntso Lama’s Momo Ghar or the wonderful Somali spot Hoyo’s Kitchen or the gluten-free bakery Bake Me Happy. 

Indeed, getting to experience and then share under-the-radar spots with readers has always been one of the best parts of the job. I’ll never forget, for example, my first Preston’s burger back when it was a carryout on South High Street. Nor visits to El Ranchito for tacos or Riziki Swahili Grill for urojo soup and tangawizi (ginger) juice. 

After nearly eight years on the job, there are so many other fond food memories. 

In 2016, there was the pale-yellow summer corn soup that Veritas served, garnished with contrasting pearls of black raspberry—a wonderful ode to Jeni’s sweet corn and black raspberry ice cream. It ran on the opener of our 10 Best Restaurants issue. In 2022, the same issue featured Comune’s stunning watermelon carpaccio—a dish that a friend and I still reminisce about. 

One month, I had the chance to write about (and gorge on) barbecue from all over the city—a dream for this Southerner. I remember holding a dry-rubbed Ray Ray’s Hog Pit sparerib in one hand and the steering wheel in the other while driving through Old North. Not safe, but pure joy. 

During the height of the pandemic, Bonifacio ingeniously reinvented its traditional kamayan feast as carryout—complete with cocktails, banana leaves, ample Filipino fare and instructions for laying out your spread. It made for a special night out, only at home. 

Speaking of home, some Sunday mornings I open the fridge and wish North Country Charcuterie’s coffee bacon would magically appear. (I need to get some soon.) If I could, I’d pair that good bacon with a Skillet omelet, Pistacia Vera rye croissant, Fox in the Snow’s biscuits and jam and—a girl can dream—the egg, cheese and pastrami bagel sandwich from the Lox Bagel Shop. 

I'll always miss Alana Shock’s place, and her amusing habit of dropping off an amuse bouche at your table—inspired by whatever she found at the farmers market. And I could drown happy in a bowl of Kihachi’s elegant chawanmushi—there’s been a void since both venerable restaurants closed. 

The good news is that it’s more exciting than ever to be an eater—a professional or an amateur one—in Columbus. We have such wonders as injera at Lalibela, Sí Señor’s Peruvian sandwiches, Ajumama’s  bulgogi meatloaf, the kati roll at Joya’s Café, Wario’s steak sandwich and Dan the Baker’s esteemed sourdoughs. There are too many to count. 

And, every year, new local visionaries are always surprising us with innovative ideas in food and drink—that's why our Tastemakers annual feature has been my favorite one to produce. 

Finally, a confession: The question I most often get—“What’s your favorite restaurant?”—gives me the hives. Because there isn’t one restaurant. 

The only way to answer that question honestly is with more questions: What am I in the mood for? And what are we celebrating: a major life event or the fact that it’s Tuesday?  

Because Columbus has it, if you know where to look. 

This story is from the March 2024 issue of Columbus Monthly.