Can I Cannoli? || Food Photography in the Studio
Two years ago, in a down-to-the-wire bid to use my Covid-cancellation flight credit, I was sitting in a wine bar in Chicago after a family portrait session, frantically scribbling in my journal. I had just worked nonstop for a year and a half to transition my business to a new city and was finally starting to settle in. Of course, I’m not very good at sitting still, so I knew that if I had a glimmer of hope of having more time on my hands, I’d need to put that time towards my often dreamed up but usually overlooked creative practice. Bonus points if each project could also help expand or improve my business. So, while absentmindedly sipping my wine and ignoring everyone around me, I drew up grand monthly plans for a music video, a pet portrait calendar, a sunrise portrait session on the beach - all projects which could give me the portfolio pieces to land larger gigs while also photographing purely for the pleasure of creating.
Naturally, I only did the first month’s project before life took over again. However, of all of the photoshoots I could have done that year, this one was certainly the tastiest.
Arguably the first photography job I ever dreamed of, around the age of 14, was that of food photographer (plus travel writer.) It took me over a decade to come back around to it, but when I’m not photographing the most joyful moments in people’s lives, I’m photographing the subject which, for me, encapsulates every day contentment: good food. So, for this first expansive creative project, I wanted to delve into intentional food styling with complex compositions - so that while a good bit of my business right now is more simple and stand alone restaurant menu imagery, I could just as easily choose one dish and build a whole story around it. I don’t tend to eat out frequently as I can cook most everything I want at home, but every once in a while I’ll crave a really good cannoli, which I haven’t yet been able to find in Durham. So, why not learn to make a dessert I love, which would be impressive for home bakers, and which would help me practice styling for one of my next goals: collaborating on a cookbook AND regularly partnering with a recipe developer or food blogger.
As it turns out, the cannoli-making process was much more simple than I expected; though between the grocery, the frying, and the photographing, it took me more than 6 hours. Luckily, this time - unlike my first attempt at food blogging when I made a crepe cake - I did not run out of butter mid bake. As I’m not a food blogger trying to fill necessary SEO space before allowing you to read the recipe, I’ll leave out the gory details of the frying process (two dough-wrapped spools at a time) and the necessary ingredients for my flavor combinations (a simple mini chocolate chip and a lemon pistachio), but I will say that years watching Bake-off repeatedly definitely came in handy knowing how to rest, fry and style this delicious challenge.
The most difficult part about food styling is curating the styling cabinet. I don’t want to heavily consume new dishwear, utensils or decorative trinkets which would only be used once or twice and then sit in my cabinet taking up space, so I’ve scoured Facebook marketplace, the Habitat restore, Etsy, and family kitchens looking for the right center display dish. In the end, naturally (and painfully), I found the perfect one new at Walmart. Luckily, it’s one I can use frequently. The rest of my dishes were borrowed from my wedding styling box, were gifts after clients’ product photoshoots, were purchased secondhand, or were homemade (the napkins.)
At the time of photographing, I had recently reconfigured my office to have a dedicated photography corner, and this really did make all the difference in making sure I got this project done within its allotted month! Now, I’m working on building out my empty spare bedroom - painted the same neutral color as my former studio - in order to have a dedicated studio room just feet from my kitchen.
After planning, shopping, chopping and frying, by the time I got my scene set, I was just ready to sit down and stuff my face with cannolis. However, I mustered up enough self restraint (and also planned ahead by making more than needed to photograph) to knock out a variety of images first.
With the end goal in mind of eventually photographing a whole cookbook worth of recipes, I set out to create one overall composition which could serve as the recipe’s hero image; one which showed the finished cannolis framed by their individual components. With the additional goal of photographing for a recipe developer or food writer needing a full visual story, I took pains to stylize each step of the process (luckily, my kitchen island sits right beside the window) and showcase each set of ingredients before putting them all together.
While I haven’t actually looked at these photos in two years, now that I’ve finally got the studio room in the works and am primarily working in my home city, I’m ready to at long last expand this side of my business. Food photography continues to be a passion seventeen years later, and after photographing for over 90 restaurants in the last year and a half, I feel very comfortable with my food photography lighting and basic style to continue to expand into these more visually complex food images. Within the next year or two I would love to establish partnerships for cookbook photography, recipe blogging, and stock imagery for ingredient brands. And, if I get to learn how to make my favorite desserts along the way, you certainly won’t hear me complaining!
