Do Restaurants Pay Me as a Food Influencer?

1. Restaurants don't have money. The notion that a New York food influencer can survive by charging restaurants for posts is, in Jeremy's view, financially impossible — the restaurants that would pay a couple hundred dollars typically aren't good ones, and the amounts are too small to live on anyway.
2. He doesn't solicit restaurants for payment. Jeremy says he never approaches restaurants demanding fees to make videos, and he declines the many paid offers he receives because selling out his account erodes audience trust without even generating meaningful income.
3. Big companies are the exception. If a giant restaurant group or company with a real marketing budget offers payment for a video he was going to make anyway — and he didn't ask for it — he'll take the money, but it never dictates the content.
4. Paid versus gifted is the key industry distinction. When something is free or gifted, the brand generally does not control messaging. When you're paid, the company gains the right to review and dictate key messaging — that's fundamentally what payment buys.
5. He fights to keep brand content organic. Even on lucrative paid deals, Jeremy negotiates hard to keep everything authentic to him; if a brand pushes something he refuses, he simply won't do it. With comped or unpaid content, restaurants don't get to see, approve, or script his videos.
6. He mostly avoids comped meals now — out of annoyance, not morality. Comps come with strings: ordering constraints, timing requirements, and pressure about when the video drops. He'd rather pay, order what he wants, and post on his own schedule, even if that's months or years later.
7. Good restaurants recognize him and comp anyway. Even when he intends to pay, top restaurants often spot his reservation, know who he is, and refuse his credit card — making a comp unavoidable rather than a backroom deal.
8. Influencers can't truly review food. Because he's filming with a camera and light, his service and experience differ from a normal diner's, so he highlights what he likes rather than pretending to review — his videos are effectively commercials for positive experiences.
9. Food waste is a real downside. Comped visits often mean chefs send out a sickening amount of food that gets wasted, which is both a personal reason he avoids comps and makes for harder-to-edit videos crammed with too many dishes.

Show Housekeeping and Merch

Jeremy opens by apologizing for missing the previous week — he was in Miami for the Food and Wine Festival, where he says he enters a different universe, doesn't sleep, and barely eats despite being there for food, to the point that his body starts shutting down. He thanks listeners for watching, subscribing, commenting, and sharing.

He notes the podcast is now on a brand-new 'Let Me Tell You Why' YouTube channel, is available on Spotify, and that Apple recently launched video capability though he couldn't yet figure out how to enable it. He plugs his merch store at JeremyJShop.com, offering 12% off everything with code MARCH12. The store carries t-shirts, sweatshirts, crews, beanies, hats, shorts, and stickers. The El Santo shirt is the most popular item by far, and there's a new 'Let Me Tell You Why' shirt plus honey shirts that help raise money for Muddy Paws, the rescue organization where he got his dog.

New York Restaurant News

The bulk of the episode's news segment runs through a slate of openings, menu launches, and collaborations across New York City.

TBD Gimbap (from the Naminori team)

One of Jeremy's favorite sushi spots, Naminori, is taking over its old Postcard Bakery location to open a gimbap (kimbap) restaurant on March 11th. The name listed was 'TBD,' which he joked may have just been a placeholder in the email. The takeaway menu will feature kimbap varieties including beef bulgogi, spicy pork, tuna mayo, special ham, soy garlic tofu, and 'Karen Inferno,' plus desserts and specials. Jeremy is thrilled, recalling a great gimbap he had in Korea, and says he might eat there daily and would love to see it come to Williamsburg if it succeeds.

Jack's Wife Freda — new dinner menu

Jeremy puzzles over the spelling 'Freda' (F-R-E-D-A), a New York institution he's visited many times. The restaurant is launching a new dinner menu toward the end of March featuring heartier bistro-style dishes such as a mixed grill for two, rigatoni bolognese, fish and chips, and rotating specials. He recently returned and got the green shish kebab, which he considers essential ordering.

Shuka — restaurant collaboration specials

One of the best pita shops in New York is launching a series of collaboration specials over a month and a half with some of the city's best restaurants. Jeremy calls it possibly the greatest set of restaurant collabs he's ever seen and praises Shuka for knocking them all out.

• March 6–7: Peking House — Sichuan Lamb Pita
• March 13–14: Katz's Deli — pastrami latha
• March 20–21: Barney Greengrass — smoked salmon and cream cheese barrica
• March 27–28: Peter Luger's — Luger burger arraias
• April 3–4: 8282 (Korean) — Korean fried chicken pita
• April 10–11: Greenpoint Fish and Lobster — lobster pita roll

Sunday Morning — Nomad expansion

After going viral last year for its cinnamon rolls, the East Village spot Sunday Morning has expanded to Nomad. They serve soft, warm cinnamon rolls in flavors including blueberry, lemon curd, pistachio, mascarpone, and caramel pecan, with weekend-only ube mascarpone (inspired by the Filipino dessert) and guava and cheese.

Other openings

Lumo Ombro is a new daytime cafe and cocktail bar in Tribeca with pedigree from Michelin-starred chef Stephen Humboldt, focusing on apps, salads, sandwiches, and soups by day and cocktails with small bites at night. Cafe Landwer, an international comfort food chain open since 1919, is opening its first New York location in Williamsburg with falafel, shakshuka, mezze platters, hummus bowls, schnitzel, and more — a menu Jeremy says is right up his alley. Confidant, whose original location closed last year, has reopened on the border of Cobble Hill and Brooklyn Heights with a seasonal, rotating menu focused on dry-aged meats, fishes, and homemade pastas; standouts include the prawn pot pie, the spaghetti affongi, and spicy mezze rigatoni.

I'm Donut — Sakura special

The donut sensation from Japan is offering a Sakura raspberry cream donut for cherry blossom season: a light raspberry mousse and raspberry jelly inside, dipped in a creamy Sakura-infused white chocolate coating, dusted with Sakura powder and crunchy dried raspberries. They'll also have a Sakura latte. Jeremy admits he's never gone out of his way for donuts and hasn't visited the shop in Japan or New York, but says these are supposed to be the best.

What You May Have Missed (Recent Content)

Jeremy recaps recent videos and posts. Serencon, his favorite Tokyo-style pizza place in Tokyo, came to New York for a five-day pop-up, which he documented in an Instagram short; he also published a new YouTube video and a Substack post (morsels.food) covering all his favorite Tokyo pizza spots.

He finally got into Lord's, a fancy British pub, for dinner specifically for the burger. He shares a logistical tip: the burger sells out fast at dinner, but brunch offers unlimited burgers, while dinner offers unlimited selection. Arriving for a 6:00 reservation after they open at 5:30, he was initially told the burger was sold out before a server found one last burger. He calls it worth it and raves about the best fries in the world.

He also published '15 must-see pizza shops in Williamsburg' on his Substack (morsels.food), declaring Williamsburg the pizza capital of the world.

Main Topic: Do Restaurants Pay Me as a Food Influencer?

Jeremy addresses the question he says he's gotten constantly over the years — usually in an accusatory rather than inquisitive way, with people assuming restaurants pay him to make videos. His short answer is no; the long answer is more complicated.

The core economics: restaurants don't have money

Jeremy flatly states he does not approach restaurants demanding thousands of dollars to make videos, and he turns down the many paid offers he receives. His central argument is that restaurants simply don't have money. The idea of sustaining an influencer lifestyle in New York by charging restaurants is, he says, financially foolish: the restaurants willing to pay a couple hundred dollars are generally not good restaurants, so taking the money would mean selling out his account and the trust of his audience for an amount that wouldn't even let him survive.

He adds an important caveat: other cities are different. In a smaller city with one food influencer who can't easily land brand deals, charging restaurants may make sense, and he doesn't begrudge it. But in hyper-competitive New York, with so many influencers, he advises restaurants not to waste their money — he jokes a restaurant could ask ten random people on the street to come in for a free meal and one of them would likely have a big enough following to do better.

When he does get paid

There are exceptions. If a restaurant is giant or owned by a large company with a real budget and marketing team, they can afford to pay him. Crucially, he stresses he's not making the video because they paid — it's a video he would have made anyway, and if a well-funded restaurant offers payment he didn't ask for, he'd be stupid not to take it. Payment still doesn't mean he'll post anything: he describes fighting tooth and nail with every brand to keep deals organic and authentic to him, and refusing outright anything he won't stand behind, even to his own detriment. If he dislikes a dish at a paid partner, he simply won't include it rather than trashing the place.

Restaurants also pay him purely to produce content — coming in to shoot photos and videos for them. Since he's there anyway, he may make his own video too, creating a gray area where he was paid in some capacity but not specifically to post.

Comped meals

Jeremy openly admits he has taken comped food, especially early on when he could barely afford anything and needed it to do the job at all. Nowadays he mostly avoids comps — not for moral reasons but out of annoyance. Comps come with strings: restaurants dictate what you can order, when to come, and ask when the video is dropping. He prefers to walk in, order the burger himself, make whatever video he wants, and not answer to anyone, since he's often months or even years behind on posting and never wants to feel rushed or obligated.

Sometimes comps are unavoidable. Good restaurants review their reservation lists and recognize who's coming. When Jeremy books intending to pay, gets recognized, and the bill comes back free, he's not going to fight the staff or force his credit card on them — he protests but they refuse. He emphasizes the comps he does accept come only from people he deeply trusts whose food he knows will be great, and they are never the sketchy backroom 'give you a cheeseburger for a good review' deals people imagine. There's no contract, no obligation; if a meal were bad he'd simply have an awkward conversation or quietly not post.

Paid vs. gifted: the real industry distinction

Jeremy explains the fundamental separation in the influencer world: when something is free or gifted, the brand generally does not control the messaging. When it's paid, the company gains the ability to review what he says and provide key messaging — that control is precisely what payment buys. He cites Canon sending him a free thousand-dollar camera with a contract requiring certain posts as a higher-end example, but maintains that for the most part free equals creative control retained, paid equals control ceded. Even with comps, restaurants don't see his videos in advance, don't check them, and can't dictate his words.

He's careful to say he speaks only for himself and in macro terms — others may operate the opposite way. He sees emails offering $200 for a meal at restaurants he'd never visit for any amount, then sees other influencers post from those places; he doesn't begrudge them but directs his message at restaurants, telling them it's not worth their time.

Why influencers can't truly review food

A recurring theme is that Jeremy doesn't and can't review food. Sitting with a camera in his face and a light on him guarantees a different experience and service than a normal diner gets, even when staff don't recognize him but can tell he's filming. So instead of reviewing, he highlights what he likes. He frames the reality bluntly: any influencer filming themselves is essentially making a commercial, and since most prefer to showcase positive experiences, the resulting video functions as advertising for the restaurant regardless of payment.

Food waste

A final, more personal reason he avoids comps is waste. Every job wastes some resource; in his, it's food. To make a fully thought-out video he orders more than a normal person, so there's already waste when he pays. With comps it's worse — excited chefs send out a sickening amount of food that's impossible to finish even with friends, leaving him feeling ill and wasting food he tries hard to minimize. Practically, too many dishes also make for a harder video, cramming 15 dishes into a minute and a half, so those videos get sidelined.

What I'm Into

Jeremy, who is 38 and admits internet discoveries reach him late, shares two current obsessions.

Caleb Hammer and The Financial Audit

He's been binging Caleb Hammer's YouTube show The Financial Audit, in which each episode features a guest in dire financial straits whom Hammer reams out while trying to help, conducting hour-and-a-half conversations dissecting their finances. Jeremy finds the casting perfect (the guests are crazy) and the show hilarious, sometimes depressing, but full of takeaways. It scared him straight about his own spending — he went through his app subscriptions canceling things, imagining Caleb yelling at him.

Love Story (JFK Jr. and Carolyn Bessette FX series)

After TikTok started showing him clips of JFK Jr.'s old PBS show and he became fixated on how cool JFK Jr. was, Jeremy started watching the Ryan Murphy FX series about JFK Jr. and Carolyn Bessette. He notes it's a bit cartoony and amplified — not a documentary, drawn from sources and conversations no one actually heard — but praises Sarah Pidgeon's performance and the enthralling chemistry between the leads. He reflects on the cultural revival of the couple as style icons, saying he's into people dressing like Carolyn (simple and beautiful) and even taking some JFK Jr. menswear cues (he drove a Saab on the show, which Jeremy thought was cool). Five episodes into a nine-episode run, he calls it great TV that hits the sweet spot between movie-like prestige series and disposable content.