The Perils of Being a Food Critic
Alan Richman, recipient of 14 James Beard Journalism Awards and a National Magazine Award
The late Terry Lanni, the MGM CEO memorialized yesterday, was a charming man and a great leader, so I didn’t really mind when he came up to me at a Michael Mina tasting and said, “I’d like to have your job.”
I was, of course, laying for him. “What a co-incidence,” I retorted. I’d say a multi-million dollar salary package plus stock options adequately compensates for the occasional impromptu lunch in a corporate dining room.
But in spite of the popular fantasy, being a serious food critic takes its toll both mentally and physically, not to mention the economics. Every college student knows a life in journalism is fun, exciting, and low pay. If you want to make money, your college advisor will tell you, go into a field like engineering, medicine or investment banking.
Well, I chose fun, excitement, and above all, good eating. To use an expression from Joseph Campbell, I followed my bliss, and one can’t put a price on what that is worth. And you know what, life’s a blast.
But in this modern era of too much information, or, to use my brother’s metaphor for the Internet, “more shit, faster,” we dining critics have been relegated to the trash heap of history, along with the Yelpers, Urban Spoons and every other Tom, Dick and Sally who thinks himself qualified to write a piece about a restaurant.
And to add further insult to injury, we are exposed to indignities and even job threatening conflicts that these Blogmeisters are not. One of my worst situations occurred when the owner of Origin India, who had the gall to lure my wife in for a free meal by calling her cell phone, was cheeky enough to complain to my then employer, Greenspun Media.
I hadn’t ponied up a favorable article fast enough, it seemed to him. I’ll put his restaurant in my book, “Eating Las Vegas,” just for the record if a horse’s head appears between my bed sheets. I lost that job only six months later, and can’t help think the event was a contributing factor.
You may recall a while back that I posted a piece defending my friend, S. Irene Virbila of the LA Times. She was made by the owner at a place called Red Medicine in Beverly Hills, and photographed. Then, he put a shot of her on the Internet, to compromise her anonymity. This spiteful gesture was performed because she gave his food a bad review.
Now, an even more heinous event has occurred. Alan Richman, the longtime GQ critic, has been accused of giving a female server “an inappropriate pat on the rear.”
In his current article, entitled “Diner For Schmucks”, (www.gq.com/food-travel/alan-richman/201109/alan-richman-m-wells-restaurant-scandal-review?printable=true¤tPage=1) Richman constructs an impassioned defense of himself, and this has incurred much discussion both on Twitter and Eater National, as well as some commentary by Sam Sifton in the New York Times.
The problem, said Richman, occurred after indifferent service at the Quebecois-American diner M. Wells, owned by the Canadian-American couple Hugue Dufourt and Sarah Obraitis. This place charges $42 for a burger. Personally, I’d rather give that kind of scratch to the poor, than spend that much on a goddamned hamburger.
But that’s off the point.
On a third visit after having had the owner agree to a subsequent interview, Richman experienced bad service. I’d guess he’s right when he postulates that the female server invented an excuse to cover up her poor service, but I’m just speculating. But it’s a thing where the accused can’t win. It’s like being accused of racism. If you’re innocent, you’ve still been cast in a bad light.
Richman says in his piece that New York restaurants have long been “tumbling into informality,” and refers to our time as a “post-service era.” That’s not my experience in Vegas. I’ve been accused by friends, and probably by restaurant staffers behind my back, of bullying, but I deny that accusation. Anyone who reads me on a regular basis knows I am a softie. So when I seem demanding, it’s only because I want the best out of a restaurant, so I write more favorably about it.
Richman partly blames himself for the current state of affairs. “Critics like me,” he writes, “deserve some blame for the proliferation of terrible service standards in so many casual restaurants.”
This is not correct. This is an era of Yelpers, Blogmeisters, texting maniacs and friends with benefits, one where politeness went out the window ages ago. Mr. Richman, bless his soul, does get around, like to China, Tuscany and the American South.
But like all New York writers, he lives in that bubble where New York is the center of the universe. I know Alan, and he’s a great guy. I don’t believe he would pat a waitress on the ass anymore than I accept his contention that New York Chinese restaurants are as good as ones on the West Coast.
We are, however, brothers in arms on this. Alan, I’ve got your back.
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I’m not going to address whether or not Alan Richman did what he is accused of doing. I don’t know him and can’t say if that behavior is in character.
But this post is really terrible.
First, you use the photo and caption at the beginning of the article in classic manipulative fashion — oh, he’s got this award and that, trying to set the reader up to see Mr. Richman in a sympathetic light. But those awards merely mean he won those awards — they really say nothing about whether or not he might pat someone on the ass.
But that’s not really the worst of it.
This might be:
“But in this modern era of too much information, or, to use my brother’s metaphor for the Internet, “more shit, faster,” we dining critics have been relegated to the trash heap of history, along with the Yelpers, Urban Spoons and every other Tom, Dick and Sally who thinks himself qualified to write a piece about a restaurant.”
Defensive much? Could you be any more condescending? Or was this as condescending as you could possibly be? I won’t claim that writing restaurant reviews is easy; in fact, I do believe it is difficult. That said, do you have any idea how many of your readers might be users of Yelp, Urban Spoon, and the like? Way to go insulting your audience. Suddenly there’s a rulebook that says who is allowed to write a review and who’s not?
Quite frankly, while I find your site valuable and interesting (and I’m firing off this missive in the spirit of constructive criticism), you provide one (sometimes a few within your dining companions) view of a restaurant. I can get a much better view of whether I’ll like a restaurant based on Yelp, where I can see a number of reviews from “every Tom, Dick, and Sally”. When I read your reviews, I get your perspective and opinion, which might not match mine. When I read Yelp, I get to see a number of perspectives, some of which match mine much better. That makes it a valuable service. I’m sorry that cuts into your world, but welcome to competition.
However, we also have a couple of competitors for worst part of this post.
Here’s another contender:
“And to add further insult to injury, we are exposed to indignities and even job threatening conflicts that these Blogmeisters are not. One of my worst situations occurred when the owner of Origin India, who had the gall to lure my wife in for a free meal by calling her cell phone, was cheeky enough to complain to my then employer, Greenspun Media.
I hadn’t ponied up a favorable article fast enough, it seemed to him. I’ll put his restaurant in my book, “Eating Las Vegas,” just for the record if a horse’s head appears between my bed sheets. I lost that job only six months later, and can’t help think the event was a contributing factor.”
Let’s see: your wife knowingly takes advantage of a perk given to her almost certainly due to your position, yet you complain when that fails to work out in your favor. No sympathy from this corner, brother. If you don’t want those kinds of problems, turn down the free offers.
That’s okay, though. We have a final section of the article vying for most irritating:
“This place charges $42 for a burger. Personally, I’d rather give that kind of scratch to the poor, than spend that much on a goddamned hamburger.”
Really? You reviewed and gave a nod to Bar Masa, debating only between their $400 per person menu and their $500 per person menu. I’ll grant you that you were comped, which raised its own ethical questions. I fully believe that if you want to spend that much money, go ahead. You don’t have to donate to the poor. But it’s pretty hypocritical to complain about the cost of a $42 burger (which, I would guess, you would admit you did only because of your anger toward the restaurant) and also advocate spending $500 per person on dinner.
My suggestion. Take this post down. Apologize for it. Repost an impassioned defense of Alan Richman without insulting your readership.
I disagree. I think Max was writing on a personal level in defense of the job he (and other critics) do. I find Yelp to be almost completely useless with food unless you are discussing a hamburger. Even then, I wonder. I’ve used Yelp in San Francisco to find a 4 star review Indian Restaurant. The food was the worst Indian I have had, being produced cafeteria style where the ‘sauce’ is ladled on top before serving. A critic would know the difference between proper prep of Southern Indian food. There is a reason why critics exist. Dairy Queen, for example, was listed as the best ice cream in Vegas (not by Yelp, but the base of review is the same); Luv-it Custard didn’t do well, as the major complaint was that it melted too soon. A critic would be well aware that a true ice cream or frozen custard DOES melt quickly. Critics set the bar and their job is to educate their reader. They should be respected.
As far as the title on the image, I put it there. Max did not. The reason was not for sympathy. I was unfamiliar with Alan as I do not read GQ. Those are his awards as a critic. My question when I read this article was simply, “How do I know he is a critic? What is his caliber of critique?” A critic who wins numerous James Beards awards is definitely not a hack. He is a professional and judged by his peers. Max didn’t put any bio info in there, and I felt, as a reader, that I should know this guy is not a blogger, yelper, fly by night, or hack. Take it as you will. He appears to be a respected individual among the culinary community.
I’ll ignore the $42 hamburger versus $500 dinner. You are arguing apples versus oranges.
If everyone has a supposedly educated opinion then no one is educated. There is little, if any, respect of anything and anyone at the moment. Everyone feels a sense of entitlement. We need to respect one another and listen. You are absolutely welcome to use Yelp for your decisions in life. Understand that you are looking at the norm (or mean) and not true critical reviews. Expect mediocrity and you will pleased every time.