are you going to eat that?

I suppose every message board has one -- or two -- or a hundred.

You know the type I mean. The guy (or gal) who has personal peeves that must be shared with others. And even when the observation is correct (which is often), the tone of the comment is not designed to elicit conversation so much as to score a point.

Our local Facebook page is honored to have its own gaggle of the species -- and I fear I may be counted amongst their number now and then.

For some reason, food photographs seem to a catalyst of critique for a number of people. To a degree I understand the basis for the comments. Photographing food is really tricky. Especially if a sauce is present or if the food has been run through a processor.

A perfect example is my photograph of the bowl deviled pork in the beauty of mistakes. It looks as if I had just plopped it out of an Alpo can. That is the hazard of shooting pâté. It never quite looks appetizing for any creature without four legs.

The criticism is well-taken. Attempting to capture the pleasure of a dish with a photograph is almost always a fool's mission. It is why a restaurant like Noma does not have photographs on its menu, but Denny's does. Denny's photographs are not enticing, but, then, neither is its food.

So, what is it about social media food photographs that lack enticement? I know of only one poster whose food photographs make me want to taste what she has prepared. And that is Jennifer Rose, my attorney friend in Morelia.

After comparing my shots with hers, I see my primary problem. Photography is based on light. What I see in my viewfinder is merely light being reflected from what I am shooting. If the light is not correct, the shot will be inadequate.

I knew that already. Every food shot I have posted has required a good deal of light modification. If the light is correct in the initial shot, I would not need to touch it up.

Today's experiment is at the top of this essay. Instead of photographing it on the preparation table in the kitchen where the light is dim (because I seldom turn on the overhead lights), I took it outside to the counter by the swimming pool. For lighting, it was a good choice.

But what is it? It looks like some sort of boutique pizza, but it isn't.

On Sunday, I found a bag of pita bread at Hawaii. Since I had just made a perfect bowl of spreadable tzatziki, I momentarily dreamed of tracking down some lamb to make a version of gyros. Mary may have had a little lamb, but my buthcher didn't.

However, I did have that bowl of deviled pork. I slathered a layer on the pita, covered it with tzatziki, and topped that with the traditional leaf lettuce, onion, and tomato mix. Now that I look at it, I have no idea why I did not add capers and kalamatas.

Why is it cut in half? Solely for the shot. Had I folded it up, there would be nothing but a drab pita to show you.

And there are two more photography lessons. First, the color of the vegetables. Second, the texture of the vegetables. That is why a photograph of a salad is far more alluring than that of a hamburer ior a steak. (At times, I believe cameras are in league with the health nannies.)

Complaining about someone else's photographs is not my style. Living in a glass house -- and all that. Ironically, all of the lessons I "learned" in this exercise were principles I learned in grade school with my first camera. (There may be an essay aborning in that sentence.) I just had to remember them to apply them.

As for all of us who post photographs of our creations, I say keep on doing it. After all, it will provide fodder for people who want to say something about something.

Better yet, enjoy those meals. Because that is the real purpose of food. To provide ourselves with another pleasure of life.