In 2017, two budding YouTubers known as Topjaw released a video addressing a crucial question for food enthusiasts in London: what to enjoy in Chinatown? They recruited seasoned Instagram personality Kar-Shing Tong, popularly known as @ks_ate_here, to guide them through a thoughtfully crafted tour of the area. Highlights included Cantonese siu mei duck at Four Seasons, handmade Chongqing-style noodles at the now-closed Little Wooden Hut, and a visit to Barshu on Frith Street, where they dramatically cracked open a whole crab on camera. The video, which attracted around 100,000 viewers, offered practical recommendations, albeit not groundbreaking. However, in hindsight, it may hold more significance for food history enthusiasts. In its brisk seven minutes, it captures the early shifts in the culinary landscape.
Tong, a veteran in the field, began his @ks_ate_here account during the early days of social media, first on Twitter and then on Instagram, which was then dominated by still photography. In the video, he comfortably shares the history and intricacies of the dishes while displaying a relaxed demeanor. Although he typically avoids showing his face in his own content—reflecting the trends of the time—his presence in the video is engaging. In contrast, Topjaw was still in its formative stages nine years ago; host Jesse Burgess visibly struggled with spice, while cameraman Will Warr had yet to master chopsticks. Nevertheless, the foundational elements of their format were present, including the ongoing quest to determine whether they truly found “the best” food. Even while reeling from a spicy fish soup, Burgess maintained a connection with the audience, holding up food for scrutiny and addressing the viewers directly. “KS has 40,000 Instagram followers! 40,000!” Burgess exclaimed, pointing at Tong with enthusiasm.
Today, Topjaw has experienced significant growth, boasting 1.7 million followers across various social media platforms, thanks in part to their engaging personalities and the tech industry’s shift towards short-form video content. However, they are not alone in this trend. The current landscape features a plethora of influencers catering to diverse dining preferences, from halal to haute cuisine. The UK’s most followed food account, Eating With Tod, has amassed 2.4 million Instagram followers and 1.2 million on TikTok, showcasing the exuberant Toby Inskip as he expresses delight over extravagant servings of roasted and fried meats. Other influencers like Rollin Lee delve into Korean cuisine, while Lylaa Ali Shaikh of @SaltandShaikh offers insights into “ethnic hot girl spots in London,” and Kate Ovens combines restaurant critiques with impressive competitive eating feats.
The emergence of these influencers took the restaurant industry by surprise, particularly during the pandemic. Asma Khan noted a surge in patrons at her Soho establishment, Darjeeling Express, for four months following a Topjaw feature. Similarly, Man Hon Luk of Hon’s BBQ reported an influx of 200 visitors to his pop-up in Hackney after appearing on Inskip’s “Best BBQ” series. This new wave of food influencers has transformed the restaurant media landscape, rivaling or even surpassing traditional food critics in their influence over restaurant reviews. According to Hannah Twiggs, food and drink editor at the Independent, a single reel by Inskip could reach a broader audience than the entire circulation of UK print media.
In recent months, I have engaged with over 50 influencers, chefs, restaurateurs, PR professionals, and others within the industry to explore the origins of these influencers, their rise in prominence, and the day-to-day realities of their work. While some restaurateurs and PR professionals view influencers as disruptive forces, many others regard them as cost-effective marketing tools. A notable finding was that very few influencers manage to convert their viewership into sustainable income. They often struggle to secure invitations to exclusive events while actively seeking lucrative partnerships with brands. Additionally, it has become apparent that some influencers engage in covert transactions with restaurants for favorable mentions, blurring the lines between entertainment and advertising, and potentially infringing upon UK advertising regulations. As their audiences continue to expand, the persistent positivity and perceived lack of critical analysis from influencers have sparked a backlash, which one influencer referred to as a “crisis of authenticity.”
Through various means, both questionable and legitimate, influencers have emerged as significant players in the culinary scene of London. This narrative explores how this transformation occurred, its potential longevity, and who ultimately bears the financial burden for the content generated.
Throughout the evolution of the internet, each technological advancement has introduced new methods for discussing food and broadened the audience for culinary content. However, it was not until the latter half of the 2000s, during the rise of restaurant blogs, that the industry began to recognize the influence of social media and sought to leverage it. The blogs often featured playful names, such as Oliver Thring’s Thring for Your Supper, launched in 2008, or Chris Pople’s Cheese and Biscuits, started in 2007, and they typically followed the traditional food media’s lead—reviewing restaurants, sharing recipes, and photographing meals—but with a more spirited and amateurish approach.
In 2009, restaurant critic Tim Hayward and PR firm owner Sarah Canet organized a summit for bloggers and restaurant PRs at the luxurious Rubens at the Palace, located opposite Buckingham Palace. The purpose of this gathering, as noted by attendees, was to foster collaboration and understanding between the burgeoning world of food blogging and the established restaurant PR industry.
