Not content with being my little Sous-Chef, Mrs B-V has added online marketing to her role profile and has been actively promoting my little blogette on Facebook and Twitter.
Consequently, recognition has been increasing: I took my father to Troy Barbecue for his birthday at the weekend, and was greeted with something vaguely approaching VIP treatment. Well - the waiters knew who I was, and commented that they'd read my recent glowing review and were big fans of the blog.
(I'd like to say that they cooked a big fuck-off plate of delicious roasted meat in my honour, but they'd have done that anyway, whoever I was!)
There are millions of people reading a little girl's blog about school dinners - and she just reviews the same place every single day!
I'm the sort of chap who's sometimes prone to laurel-resting, in pursuit of an easy life. One of my myriad faults, I know, but I can make swift and decisive moves when I want to, and the moment is at hand!
Hand-outs for all
So, yesterday I took delivery of 1000 calling cards, which I'll be leaving whenever I visit a restaurant, pub, street food vendor or school canteen.
They look good, they release the B-V brand 'into the wild', and I can't wait to start handing the bastards out.
And you. You, right there. Sitting there reading this while listening to A Tribe Called Quest.
Don't think you've got away just because I'm not there to thrust a small rectangular piece of card into your palm.
Tell people about Ben Viveur. Spread the news far and wide. Tell people of my recipes, my reviews and my rambling on about all manner of inconsequential nonsense. Let's show these upstart schoolgirls who's boss!
Food-blog-evangelism has it's own rewards. Except when it doesn't, obviously.