Have we lost our appetite for restaurant reviews?
I explore why some restaurants get all the critical love while others are wallflowers. And do we care about food critics anymore anyway?
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Restaurant criticism is a form of food writing I’ve never attempted to break into. It’s bloody difficult to do well, I don’t believe I have the skill, and more than likely I’d overuse the word ’delicious’ to a heinous extent. But there was a time when reading restaurant reviews was something I enjoyed.
Long ago, when I lived in Australia, I devoured the columns of Leo Schofield, the doyen of restaurant critics at the time. He’s a brilliant and witty writer, although viewed by some back then as a bit of a snob. Self-styled as Sydney’s ‘public stomach’, he regarded himself as a taste-maker. I remember a friend who enjoyed a cappuccino after a meal, feeling terribly wounded when Schofield sneered that no-one with any sensibility would drink a milky coffee in Italy after 11am.
When I moved to London, AA Gill was the reviewer everyone reached for – literally – because Sunday mornings meant breakfasting amid a pile of actual newspapers. Those were the days when you could almost keep track of London’s restaurant scene (now a Sisyphean task) just by reading his column in the Sunday Times.
I still enjoy a cracking review, and I sometimes turn to critics I admire if I can’t decide where to eat. But my favourite UK critic has packed up her notebook and pen, and some others are so self-regarding that I break out in hives if I read them. So I don’t. Anyway, my Instagram feed is so full of reccs from trusted pals who eat out a lot that generally I don’t much bother with the big guys.
But a few things have got me thinking about restaurant criticism recently. An excessively scabrous and hostile national newspaper ‘review’ of a new Palestinian restaurant in London made me livid. Eater London, an online source for food news, guides and restaurant reviews – and which championed coverage of diverse cuisines – closed. And a respected US restaurant critic stepped down because, in part, she felt her reviews helped fuel gentrification.
For a while now, I’ve also been thinking about how restaurants get to be reviewed in the first place. There’s an exceptional restaurant in my neighbourhood that won a coveted green Michelin star last year, an accurate reflection (in my humble opinion) of the high quality of its food and commitment to sustainability. It’s the only one of its kind in the entire county of Dorset, so it seems to me that visitors (and there are legions of them, as tourism is a mainstay of the economy here) deserve to know about this place. But it’s never been reviewed by one of the big guys.
There are many reasons why this might be the case. Perhaps a reviewer has eaten there, didn’t like it, but didn’t think it deserved a public drubbing. Maybe none of the critics fancies schlepping to Bournemouth. Another possibility is that they don’t even know this restaurant exists because it’s never engaged a public relations (PR) firm.
I asked Richard Vines, a veteran restaurant critic, formerly for Bloomberg, how he chose the restaurants he reviewed. He says all critics like to sniff out undiscovered gems but PRs ensure that new restaurants at least enter their field of vision. “The PR machine can be very effective, though I expect some critics would deny that,” Vines says. “The PRs tell us what is coming up and that tends to help set the agenda for reviews.” Essentially, it’s incredibly difficult to get a national newspaper critic to review a restaurant that doesn't have PR.
As well as communicating new launches to editors and critics directly, using their contact lists and relationships within the industry, PRs also woo food writers and ‘influencers’. This means inviting people like me to eat there for free.
“This is really important,” explains freelance PR consultant Alice Noakes. “During the opening months you always want to try and get as many key press through the doors as you can, whether personally hosting them or sending them in with a plus 1. Journalists have a better experience of the restaurant if they sit down to taste the menu, and as a PR we often get a better result in terms of coverage for the client.”
The upside of this system is that news of a fabulous restaurant opening can spread far and wide quickly, and it’s good for everyone if it succeeds and thrives. Moreover, I couldn’t possibly afford to eat at every new restaurant that opens, but it’s vital for me professionally to know what chefs and restaurants are up to, and useful for people who read my work. So I accept these offers when I can. (My policy is to only post photos/promote a restaurant on social media if it’s really worth shouting about, and I always aim to use the hashtag ‘guest’ if I’ve eaten for free. Some argue I’m succumbing to bribery, and as a journalist that’s unethical. They have a point.)
The obvious downside is that PR costs big bucks, so it’s mainly restaurants that can afford it that end up with the most attention, leaving equally deserving ones as wallflowers. (Of course, restaurants get reviewed for other reasons. They might be run by chums of the critics. Or, like Bouchon Racine, which has been glowingly reviewed by EVERYONE without much PR, is run by someone very well known and exceptionally highly regarded within the industry.)
For a high profile launch in London, a large PR agency might charge a restaurant
£3K – £5K per month or more for a campaign running for a minimum 3 – 6 months. A freelance PR or small agency might charge less, maybe £1500 to £2K a month. But even at the lower end of the scale, that’s a big expense when the cost of ingredients has skyrocketed and some restaurants can’t afford to turn their ovens on.
When Eater London launched in 2017 it promised “to do something different in London food media”. Basically, it took the view that mainstream food media was crap, that it defined good food through a narrow Western lens and fixated on central London.
I know some in mainstream food media bristled at the criticism, but Vines is not alone in regretting the closure of Eater London. “It was a forum for new voices in food writing and a champion of diversity,” Vines says. “It also focused on neighbourhoods that were almost undiscovered by the mainstream media. Its closure is a loss.”
But is a review by an established critic in a national publication still the Holy Grail for a new restaurant anyway? “I think a stonkingly good review in a paper (and online) still really packs punch and pulls interest,” says Noakes. “It can sell out a place for months.” Restaurant PR Hugh Smithson-Wright agrees. “Certainly for a non-London restaurant, a good review [in one of the national newspapers] could result in it being booked up for weeks. But you need a spread of coverage and content.”
For what it’s worth, I conducted an unscientific poll on Instagram to get an idea of how people choose the restaurants they go to. Only 18% of respondents said they were influenced by the critics; 23% said social media and 59% said word-of-mouth (although, obviously, critics and social media drive word-of-mouth). There are also highly regarded online platforms for up-to-the-minute lowdowns on restaurant comings and goings (as well as extremely doubtful forums).
So is the demise of the traditional restaurant critic nigh? Soon, will there be none of them left to make me angry or irritated? One PR says their relevance is waning. “I don’t think anyone under 35 reads them. Except maybe Grace.”
But Vines believes there’s life in the big guys yet; social media influencers “with their instant verdicts and populist style” will continue to have a place alongside traditional critics.
“I am hopeful that there will always be room for intelligent reflection alongside instant judgement,” he says. “But I have to accept that nice pictures on Instagram may now sell a restaurant more effectively than 800 words a couple of weeks later.”
I’d love to know how you choose your restaurants, what you think of the critics and whether social media is a reliable place for recommendations. Please leave a comment below.
It was interesting, wasn't it? Also interesting that J Rayner actively opposes the gentrification of Brixton #potkettleblack
Thanks Fiona. Next time you're in Dorset we should go to Terroir Tapas. It would be very interesting to know what you think of their wine list (only local English if I'm not mistaken).