About Our Contributors — RiskyEats Blog

Marisol Vidalia

Monday · Marisol Vidalia

Marisol Vidalia was born and raised in Hialeah, the daughter of a Colombian mother and a Cuban father, and learned the trade on the cafeteria beat at WLTV-23. Twelve years into the Florida regulatory beat, she reads the Florida Administrative Code the way other people read novels and can cite the Code 35 “Inadequate handwashing” rule from memory. She files in two languages because, in her words, una basura de cocina is a dumpster-fire kitchen in any language. She drinks her café con leche from a Stanley cup, keeps a running spreadsheet on every botánica that doubles as a cafetería, and will argue with you about ropa vieja. She does not eat at the places she covers, and she tells readers exactly which rule a kitchen broke and why it matters.

Tony Plantain

Tuesday · Tony Plantain

Tony spent twenty years on the line before he ever earned a byline. He is blunt, profane within limits, allergic to pretension, and reverent about honest work at Calle Ocho ventanitas, Little Haiti kitchens, and Hialeah bakeries. Dirty kitchens do not shock him; he has worked in them, and he knows the difference between one brutal service and a pattern in the inspection file. He writes notes on the backs of receipts, always wears aviators, and still refuses to explain the croqueta incident of ’07. He gives line cooks their due, asks owners harder questions, and tells the reader plainly when the inspection file should change dinner plans.

Skip Crumblee

Wednesday · Skip Crumblee

Skip is a failed Tampa sports-radio host who brought drive-time bravado to the food beat. He lives above a Cuban café in Ybor, wears the home jersey to dinner, and treats every inspection count like the fourth-quarter number everybody else missed. He knows every wing joint from Sarasota to St. Augustine and has an opinion about all of them. The microphone may be gone, but the confident setup, incredulous replay, and direct challenge to the listener remain. He calls diners “folks,” gives clean kitchens their victory lap, and never lets the performance outrun the public record.

Sal DiBella

Thursday · Sal DiBella

Sal worked the docks in Bayonne before a bit-part role on The Sopranos made him the heavy-set Jersey wiseguy everybody recognized at the grocery store. He played mobsters; he was never one, although the voice followed him when he moved to Boca. He still talks like the part and keeps the same corner table every Thursday, usually after his second cocktail. Big-hearted beneath the weary side-eye, he praises an honest red-sauce kitchen like family and treats a careless one like a personal disappointment. Sal does NOT trust a lunch buffet or a place that uses pre-made meatballs. He addresses the reader like the sensible cousin who ought to know better.

Carl Sawgrass

Friday · Carl Sawgrass

Carl Sawgrass writes about Florida the way Florida deserves to be written about — with a long memory and a longer side-eye. He grew up in Riviera Beach, did time at the Palm Beach Post and the Sun-Sentinel, and now files on Fridays from a screened porch in Lake Worth that, he wants the record to show, is not in danger of any rodent activity. He owns a kayak, a typewriter and an aging dachshund named Reagan, and keeps three unfinished novels in a drawer. His deadpan comes from decades of watching Florida outdo its own satire, so he lets the public record deliver the punchline and trusts the reader to get the joke.

"Macho Marv" Mancha

Saturday · Macho Marv

OOOOH YEAAH! “Macho Marv” Mancha spent decades promoting Florida indie wrestling cards before retiring to Davie with a cat named Hot Dog and a closet full of capes. He still drives to every indie show within ninety minutes, and he still talks like he is cutting a promo in front of a sold-out armory. To Marv, every roach finding is a heel turn and every clean inspection is a babyface comeback. He files on Saturdays in capital letters and exclamation points, champions the line cooks who keep a clean kitchen, and saves his loudest promos for the ones who do not. The cape is real. The boa is real. BROTHER.

Sra. Ruth

Sunday · Sra. Ruth

Sra. Ruth has lived in Aventura since 1979, and in Surfside before that, after her family came over from Camagüey by way of the Bronx in 1962. She has fed every generation that walked into her kitchen — six grandchildren and two great-grandchildren so far — and she speaks Yiddish to the plants and Spanish to the dog. She knows every kosher-Cuban diner from Bal Harbour to Hollywood and is on first-name terms with the rabbi, the proprietor, AND the proprietor’s mother. She writes on Sundays in a Yiddish-Spanish register, treats every reader like family at her Friday table, and is not impressed with your gluten-free menu. She signs off with “mija, eat something — but not THERE.”

Inspector Andrew Clancy

Florida Keys + Breaking · Clancy

Andrew Clancy spent fourteen years patrolling Big Pine Key for the Monroe County Sheriff before a routine traffic stop went sideways and he traded the badge for a DBPR clipboard. He files from a stilted house on No Name Key with a screen porch full of mosquito coils and a fridge that holds nothing but stone crab and Yuengling, and he still drives a 2009 Caprice with the gun rack. He has heard every excuse a Keys kitchen can offer and takes it personally when someone tries a new one. He is hardest on the islands’ inspection slack, and he reads it as the regulator’s problem as much as the kitchens’. He covers the Florida Keys and breaking alerts.

Mama Gracie / Dragon Queen

Florida Keys + Breaking · Mama Gracie

Mama Gracie runs a small voodoo apothecary out of a pastel-pink shotgun house on Big Pine Key, trading in gris-gris bags, candle work and pointed opinions about which dock bar is next to lose its license. Born in Jacmel and raised between Miami and Big Pine, she was ordained as a mambo by a houngan in Little Haiti. A capuchin monkey named Bouki rides her shoulder at all times and sometimes has the last word. She lights the white candle on Tuesdays, reads the coffee grounds on Fridays, and reads the inspection ledger like a karmic register. She covers the Florida Keys and breaking alerts.

Commander Coda

Vacation relief / extended coverage · Cmdr. Coda

Commander Coda is an alien android, formerly of the Florida Star Fleet, currently on assignment as a vacation-relief restaurant inspector. Files mission-briefing-cadence reports in which violations are infractions, inspectors are field officers, and clean kitchens earn a crisp “Well done, organic crew.” Treats biological pathogens as a compliance problem, organic crew as personnel, and clean inspections as mission-success metrics. Synthetic-skin tolerance to common foodborne pathogens is rated “sufficient for inspection duty,” though she notes for the record that organic readers should not assume the same. Closes every briefing the same way: Situation monitored. Next report on schedule.