Richard Parks III

Richard Parks III is the creator of Richard’s Famous Food Podcast. Follow him on Twitter here. Follow Richard’s Famous Food Podcast on Twitter here.

Kindly introduce yourself!
Hi, I’m Richard Parks III, and I’m still in my PJs.

Nick Quah, who loves the show, has said Richard's Famous Food Podcast is "barely explainable." How do you describe the show to people? Do people always GET IT? And if they don't, do you try to explain it to them? Or are you just kind of like, fuck it?
Usually I just hand out my business card, which features the show’s cover art (a drawing of me as a pickle with a mustache by my friend James Braithwaite). If people have questions after that, I try my best!

Nick Quah has done a better job describing the show in his Vulture review than I ever have. But lately I’ve been going with: “It’s a cartoon you listen to. And you learn from it.” or “It’s more like Pee Wee’s Play House than a normal podcast.” It’s a documentary food show that takes on a single topic or theme in each episode — usually from an obscure or little-understood sector of the food world. But then there’s lots of sound design and characters and people breaking into song and surprises and “doy-yoy-yoing!” If I’m talking to somebody who knows me personally, I say it’s like being inside my mind.

How did you get the idea?
I was just trying to make a well-produced food show, because I felt there was room for that in podcasting/food media. When my personality got in the mix, I just went with it.

The characters, the humor, the approach to sound design and music, etc., all just came as I sat down to put it together. The goal was not to make something so escapist, surreal, and frenetic. It was more just to make a nice-sounding documentary food magazine show. Which I guess I failed to do! 

Richard’s Famous was the name of a salad dressing I made as a kid (in the mold of Newman’s Own). It had an egg yolk mayo made with anchovy paste, roquefort, fresh dill, and lemon, and there was a drawing of me on the label. Then it was going to be the name for a pickle business I wanted to start, but never did. Now it’s the podcast. I hope it will be a TV show one day, a series of books, etc. So I guess the name came first.

What cartoons did you watch as a kid? Were you influenced by Pee Wee Herman? 
I didn’t watch a lot of TV as a kid. Mostly it was Sunday nights on PBS: “Nature” and sometimes Masterpiece Theatre. But eventually I got to see Pee Wee and The Simpsons (early seasons, I was born in 1982) and old Warner Brothers cartoons that would play on Saturday mornings. When I’m asked to talk about references for Richard’s Famous, I usually talk about those shows: The Simpsons for the sense of humor, plus the structure of a story, and character development. The mad-cap host-driven absurdity and self-contained logic of Pee Wee’s world. And then there’s the no-rules-ness of Wyle E. Coyote, but also, maybe more importantly, the way tuneful sound design and music is used to help tell a story with humor, surprises, and fast-paced drama. I think that’s absolutely an influence on what I do in RFFP. It’s very cartoon-y.

How do you pay for the show? It sounds expensive.
My father would say I have “a champagne appetite and a beer budget.” It’s true that if all the expenses and time and labor were considered, it’d be a pricy show. It’s documentary in nature with a lot of reporting in the field and interviews, and then there’s all the post-production work that goes into the sound and music. For the first episode “Bone Broth” I relied on a lot of favors from friends to help record, report, write and record music, loan studio facilities and time, etc. Since then, if there’s anything to pay for, I pay for it. And if there’s anything to do, for the most part, I do it myself.

What's the funniest food?
A pickle with a mustache!

When was the first moment in your life you realized you were funny or weird? Maybe when you were a little kid?
When I was a kid I used to wear t-shirts over collared shirts, and they were often both short-sleeved. (I grew up in LA.) I think I was aware that was a weird style choice. I’ve always done weird voices, impressions, and pronounced every-day words in weird ways… which is pretty much the same humor stuff I put into the show.

What do most podcasters get wrong when it comes to creating good sound?
I try to remember that sound is a tool that you can use for different purposes. It’s like a handsaw — you can cut wood with it, you can look at your reflection in it, you can threaten somebody with it… I use a musical saw sound in my podcast, it’s funny.

Sound relays information but it also creates feelings. I’m trying to tell a story but I’m also trying to use sounds to make you feel a certain way and I’m trying to be very intentional about how I do that. So I’m focused on the emotional meaning of sounds, I guess? A lot of what I do with sound is done for humor and surprise, or to create a sense of place that is recognizably “Richard’s Famous Food Podcast.”

And I try to remember to use dynamics, as in music. Take it on up, but remember to bring it back down. Hit it hard, but then lay out a bit. It’s call and response, beginning and end, conflict and resolution… It’s simple music, but it’s perfectly logical.

What does making an episode of Richard's Famous Foods Podcast look like? Is it ever the same?
No. I never have any idea what I’m doing when I start, I just start. From there, I just take it one decision at a time and adapt to whatever results from those decisions. Each decision creates another problem, each problem requires a new decision… The decisions need not — should not, probably — be based on what the show “should” be or what has “worked” in the past. It’s more fun to find new answers.

I try to use cliche, but always in a way that only I would. For example, I was working on an episode about chamoy, the spicy, tangy fruit condiment from Mexico. My friend Nick White, who is a great editor, listened to an early draft and said things were moving too quickly for him, the information wasn’t sinking in. He suggested more “signposting”: a radio convention where you kind of sum up where you’ve been and lay out where you’re headed next. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to do use generic signposting, which if you listen to documentary storytelling podcasts, you probably know what that sounds like. The “Editor” character from my show was born: a fictional RFFP newsroom boss with a 1930s Mid-Atlantic accent who comes in and interrupts my voiceover, asking me about how my next story is going, what I’ve learned in my reporting so far, what I’m looking into next… signposting stuff. So I do this silly little scene, an absurd comedy skit, basically, based on a character that comes from me doing an impression of Cary Grant in His Girl Friday or Katherine Hepburn. In the context of a documentary food show, that sounds insane, and it is. But by the time the scene is over, I’ve given the listener all the information I would have were had I used conventional signposting. I’ve brought the cliche into the world of the show and made it my own. It’s something different, and hopefully it makes you smile. I like that kind of thing.

I’ve made episodes in France and Tennessee and interviewed dozens of people, and I’ve made episodes by myself in my bedroom. I’ve created all-original music from scratch and I’ve ripped music from iPhone ringtones and used that. Sometimes I rhyme or rap or sing, sometimes I get serious about a sensitive cultural topic. I guess one thing I try to do every time I make an episode is keep it short and not waste your time.

How would you describe RFFP listeners?
I’ve met a few and the thing that sticks out to me most is that they are really, really, really fashionable.

What was the last thing you ate? 
Adzuki beans simmered with ginger, miso, and carrots, plus homemade sauerkraut, roasted tomatoes, and a poached egg, on a bed of spinach.

What are you eating a lot during Coronavirus isolation?
Legumes, sandwiches, salads, eggs. Chocolate chip cookies made from the Milk Bar cookbook recipe. But that’s not super different from before isolation.

Why did you make RFFP? What do you hope it does for people?
What we say on the show is “Why does anybody do anything?” When I’m making the show, I try to empty my mind of preconceptions and stay open to what I hear. I discover things, and I try to be true to those things and reinforce them. It feels honest, even when it’s making stuff up. Ultimately I guess I’m trying to be true to myself and how I see things, and that feels like all I can do or any of us can do. If I can re-create some of those feelings in you, or share them with you, I believe I have justified the existence of yet another podcast.

Thanks, Richard!