Now that I have your attention, let me start by saying that "success" in food blogging terms can be measured in many ways.

Some see success in terms of traffic in the millions, others in an audience of two. (Hi mom, thanks for finding my "blob." True story over at Rabbit Food Rocks.) Some want to turn their cyberventures into cookbook or cooking shows. Still others eschew all the talk of numbers (both dollars and page counts) and firmly believe that success can be measured in building a bona fide community that keeps coming back for well-written words, known in the blog biz as (wince alert) content.

Then there are the rock stars of the food blogging establishment, peeps like Ree Drummond who writes under the persona The Pioneer Woman. Check out her impressive stats, courtesy of a recent New Yorker profile: 23.3 million page views per month, 4.4 million unique visitors, a new memoir, The Pioneer Woman: Black Heels to Tractor Wheels–A Love Story, a bestselling cookbook, ad revenue for 2010 at the cool one million mark and counting, oh, and a movie deal, with Reese Witherspoon signed on to star. All this for a gal who chronicles the minutiae of everyday life on an Oklahoma cattle ranch, where she home schools four kids, cooks, and dishes about cleaning out her closet.

Curious about this medium and the food folks who thrive in blogland, I've attended my fair share of blogging meet ups in the past couple of years, including BlogHerFood, International Food Blogger Conference, and, most recently, Camp Blogaway, the second annual sleepover for food bloggers held in the San Bernardino mountains in Southern California. I've also sat in on blogging panels at conferences that include old-media scribes such as the International Association of Culinary Professionals and the Symposium for Professional Food Writers.

What I'm struck by at these sessions is how much the attendees are looking for the keys to success in cyberland. It reminds me of a time, not so long ago, when new writers would pepper panelists at journalism conventions for the one right way to write a pitch letter to break into print magazines, as if starting with "Hi Joe," "Dear Mr. Yonan" or "Yo Joe Yonan" could make the crucial difference between landing a freelance assignment and getting overlooked.

Of course, there are missteps best avoided (if you spell an editor's name wrong you're likely sunk). But the truth is while talent and ideas count, so does experience, connections, timing, and, frankly, a bit of luck. I feel similarly about how things shake out in the food writing world on the Internet.

That said, I offer up five key ingredients gleaned from these long weekend food blogging bashes that may help pave the way to success in the blogosphere, however you define that term. And, thanks for asking, I think I'd choose Cate Blanchett to play me.

5 Keys to Food Blogging Success

Tell stories: Might seem obvious, but having something to say and telling it in an informative and entertaining way is crucial. And, as bloggers like Camp Blogaway keynote speaker Joy Wilson of Joy the Baker exemplifies, it need not be on weighty matters. She writes frequently about the antics of her cat and in two short years saw her readers jump from around 32 to 2 million. (It doesn't hurt that she bakes mouth-watering treats and takes stunning snaps, too, see my next point.)

I'm partial to the prose dispensed by pals Cheryl Sternman Rule (5 Second Rule), Molly Watson (The Dinner Files) and -- rock star alert -- Molly Wizenberg (Orangette, but then savvy blog readers knew that already, right?) Consistently well-crafted tales told with wit and wisdom, typically just once a week, from each of these gals. Newsflash peeps: Pumping out blog copy every day doesn't necessarily make for a great read. Oh, and I'm a food policy wonkette at heart so I read Civil Eats pretty consistently too.

And, here's an interesting tidbit: You know how food blogs are largely about food and frequently contain recipes? Duh. Here's what I've heard confessed recently at these soirees: Many readers gush about being a huge fan of blogger XX, while at the same time confessing to have never, ever, made a single recipe on their site. Wow. Who knew? And what to make of that fact?

Take pretty pictures: It’s not enough to have something to say. Food bloggers need to be food photographers and stylists too. I'm no fan of the term food porn, but I get it, and I like a beautiful image of something scrumptious as much as the next voyeur. Judging by the popularity of such sites as TasteSpotting and foodgawker, I'm not alone. Every blogging conference includes panels on how to perfect your happy snaps. Locally, Heidi Swanson at 101 Cookbooks gets props for her photography; check out BAB contributor Megan Gordon’s 5 Beautifully Photographed Food Blogs post or Saveur‘s recent top picks of pics for more. Speaking of rock stars, at Camp Blogaway there was much twittering (both in the new and old sense of that word) about the appearance of Sarah Gim, founder of TasteSpotting, who seems like a perfectly pleasant person to this visually-challenged photog but was treated like royalty by many of the way more camera-savvy scribes at this event. Clearly, image matters in this medium. Get a pic on TasteSpotting, considered the gold standard of food porn sites, and watch that traffic climb.

Build a genuine community: A well-received panel addressing this very subject occurred at the recent Camp Blogaway, co-presented by my role model in this matter, the consistently generous Cheryl Sternman Rule, and the similarly welcoming Susan Russo of FoodBlogga. In a nutshell: Think about your readers, only promote products you truly value, reach out to new readers and bloggers, champion others, and say thank you. Susan talked about paying it forward and building an authentic following beyond cyberspace (clue: in the real world). Cheryl walks her talk; for a taste, try this bite. My favorite take away from their talk: "Measure your success not in clicks or traffic, but in how well your blog fulfills your personal and professional objectives. Most of all, be kind to yourself."

Be a man: Okay, before all the guys start rolling their eyes here, let me say this: I'm no man hater. I'm a daddy’s girl who adored growing up with four boisterous brothers. I was married to a man for a very long time and we remain firm friends in the Ellen Barkin-Gabriel Byrne kind of way (versus the Ellen Barkin-Ronald Perelman way. No idea what I’m talking about? Take a little pit stop through this New York Times Magazine piece on same and then come back here.) My only child hails from planet XY. Some of my best friends are men…you know where this is going.

Got no issue with the other sex. And yet: Why is it in the blogosphere and at these food writing affairs, which, let's face it, are afloat in a sea of estrogen, do so many men seem to be disproportionately represented in the ranks of speakers and award winners? I'm not the only one who notices. I can only surmise that they simply stand out in an overwhelmingly female field. In true rock star fashion, like Sting, they need only one name to be recognized. Think: Lebovitz, Leite and Ruhlman.

Keep current with social media: Twitter is the new Facebook. StumbleUpon is the new Digg. Video is the new photo. That's right: It's not enough to take fab photos. You have to shoot and edit your own mini-movies now too, another take away from Camp Blogaway, a fact that was echoed at the American Society of Journalists and Authors conference in New York the same weekend, according to food writer friends who attended that event. To which I can only say: Shoot me now.

Speaking of that ASJA conference, the other take-home advice that stood out to me on the Monday morning I scanned email messages coming out of that meeting: Don't let blogging get in the way of your real work. Go figure.

Chances are, if you're here reading Bay Area Bites, you probably read other food blogs, too. From blogs that focus on just one meal a day, to photographers shooting with film, to writers telling stories of people that produce the food you're eating--here are a few food blogs that are not only beautifully photographed but are innovative in the way they approach content.

Sprouted Kitchen

Sprouted Kitchen is the work of Sara Forte and husband/photographer Hugh Forte. Sara left what she calls her "big-girl-career" job in March to pursue cooking and writing about whole foods in an approachable way. Hugh takes the photos for the site, and the two have just secured a book deal which makes those of us who love The Sprouted Kitchen really, really excited. A few recent stand-out posts are the Pear and Buckwheat Pancakes and Rustic Fig and Goat Cheese Pizza. In addition to being one of the prettiest blogs around, Sara's recipes test beautifully; I'm always confident that anything I decide to try from the blog will come out perfectly. And last, Sara's incredibly generous with comments. She usually replies to her reader's comments and is gracious about participating in the community that has, not surprisingly, developed in and around her blog. This is not something that everyone does. It makes you feel at home at Sprouted Kitchen.

The Blue Hour

So The Blue Hour isn't technically a food blog, but it's one of the few sites that I actually visit each and every day. Photographer Brian Ferry lives in London and uses The Blue Hour to post photos about his daily life: from images of meals in a local pub, to blooming flowers, to a button-down shirt draped over a chair in the corner. I'm including The Blue Hour here because food is so much about the simple pleasures of daily life, and there's no one else I can think of that celebrates and captures that better right now than Brian Ferry. Some posts are themed (like this one on shooting out of airplane windows), but most tend to capture the mood of a day, to explore the threads that weave together each hour -- from the mundane to the more monumental. In addition to photos, Brain often offers links to music, videos, and things he likes around the web. His perspective shines through immediately; I'm a fan. I think you will be, too.

Beyond the Plate

In the spirit of full disclosure, I must say that Danielle Tsi, author and photographer behind Beyond the Plate, is a good friend of mine. We met through our blogs, actually, and have developed a great friendship beyond that. Her blog is a mixture of personal writing, pieces on local food purveyors and farmers, and beautiful photography and recipes. Danielle has a way of staging each photo so you feel like you've been invited to sit down to the table -- you feel as though you've been there, you are there. A few of my favorite recent posts from are the Bamboloni and Meyer Lemon Curd (spring encapsulated!) and Pasta Carbonara posts. If you're interested in a food blog that's moving beyond recipes and photos and into engaging stories about real people producing food, this one is it.

What Katie Ate

What Katie Ate is the work of Katie Quinn Davies, a self-taught Australian photographer with one of the most beautiful blogs around these days. Katie's photos have a true tactile quality that make you just want to reach into the frame, touch, and taste. There is a real rustic simplicity and a moodiness in Katie's work that you don't often find in the often uber-exposed photographs from other pretty food blogs. For me, reading a new What Katie Ate post is like settling into an old worn-in leather chair on a Sunday afternoon with a cool drink. It doesn't get much better. From the typewriter-like font to the unparalleled food styling and unique approach to each photo, Katie's work is different and special. A few of my favorite posts are her Black Forest Gateau, Poached Salmon Salad with Crumbled Feta, Chickpeas, and Crispy Capers, and Sunday Morning Baked Eggs.

Simply Breakfast

I love Simply Breakfast. It's a simple blog. It's predictable. You may not necessarily see an image that will floor you with its new approach or unique camera angle. But what Jennifer Causey does remarkably well is to make you excited about breakfast again, appreciate routine and ritual, and long for creating a morning meal that means something--however small and insignificant. It could be as simple as coffee and a scone or a more elaborate meal such as a scramble with mushrooms and onions and a mug of green tea. Sometimes Jen eats out in the morning and photographs that meal, but more often than not, they're a snapshot of how her mornings start at home. For that reason, they're also a chronicle of the turning light, the seasons, and what I imagine are most likely her changing mood and tastes.

It's that time of the year again. Shorter days, colder nights and the realization that yet another year is slipping away.

For those of us who clutch to whatever hope we can find, it's also the time to begin thinking about all the promises ahead for 2008. To help mark the months, calendars that inspire and move me are a basic necessity. How else to make the wall over my desk a place for change rather then an endless list of tasks?

For the third year in a row, I'm ordering a copy of Celia Roberts' wonderful calendar celebrating farm workers across the country. Fully bilingual with Spanish and English text, this year's calendar, Gracias por los Campesinos, describes the daily labor of immigrants with honesty, respect and quiet gratitude.

Next year's calendar is especially close to my heart, for Celia came to the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market while I was still teaching in the kitchen there. She helped me welcome the women from Las Salsitas the day they demonstrated recipes from their cookbook, and while she was there, she snapped a photo of Carl Rosato from Woodleaf Farm. If you flip to December in the 2008 calendar, you'll see him helping some customers as they pick out peaches at his booth.

Every year's calendar has a different visual theme, but the feeling is always the same: thanking community members for their valuable contributions. One of my favorites was last year's collection of photographs, Gracias por los Abuelos, when Celia honored grandparents.

I highly recommend this year's calendar for offices or kitchens where eating and cooking has become the mere stuff of work. It's a warm reminder of the faces and lives and stories that bring us our food.