Fat Guy

Conceptually, it makes the most sense to separate two phenomena: 1- the decline in formality of all high-end restaurants (for example, few or no fine-dining restaurants now require neckties, and most don't even require jackets; in addition, service is more casual pretty much across the board), and 2- the number of high-end restaurants in business or opening. If you conflate those two things, then of course it looks like fine-dining is dying. If you look at them together, it's a bit more complex. In addition, the time frame of one season, which is relevant to newspapers but limits their perspective, is not relevant to historical trends. The past decade is more relevant as a time frame, and the past decade has seen the bar raised for fine dining, with the openings of Ducasse and Per Se. Per Se is getting $250 for dinner and it's a tough table to get. Likewise, the last chapter on Ducasse has not been written. He has two "casual" restaurants coming soon in New York, yes, but the organization also, according to every insider I've asked, has plans for another Michelin three-star-type place in New York down the road. These things move in cycles. There were a lot of fancy restaurant openings in the early 2000s (after the death of fine dining was confidently predicted in the 1990s), but not a lot in 2006-2007. Big deal. And, amazingly, the world exists outside New York as well. Go to Las Vegas and tell me fine dining is dead. Go to Chicago. The rise of restaurants at lower levels of price and formality that serve haute-cuisine-level food using great ingredients is not an indication of the death of fine dining. Rather, it shows that more and more people are demanding that kind of cuisine not just when they go out for formal dinners once in awhile, but also every time they go out. So there has been some dilution of the concept of fine dining, because that kind of formal restaurant is no longer the exclusive owner of fine cuisine. There are too many good chefs, too many good ingredients now available for any one set of restaurants to have a monopoly on them.

I have a few issues with general practices at fine-dining restaurants when it comes to bread service. First, as much as I appreciate a fine selection of bread, I would rather have a bread basket than deal with a server coming around with a bread selection and going through the whole "Would you like sourdough, olive, multigrain, or raisin-walnut?" rigmarole all night long, over and over, with each individual person at the table. Just give us a few pieces of every type of bread in a basket, and bring more if we need it. I guess with warm bread individual service makes sense, but most places aren't doing warm bread. Second, butter allocations are usually too small. A table of four people might be given essentially a pat of butter in a little dish. I suppose it's understandable that restaurants wish to avoid waste (even though restaurant dining is a fundamentally wasteful experience, but whatever), but if they're going to give small dishes of butter then they should be better about replacing them. That guy who comes around incessantly with a tray of bread; why can't he be more diligent about noticing when you're low on butter, and then not taking ten minutes to come back with more. Third, there should be salt on the table, especially if the butter is unsalted but even if it is salted. Fourth, don't serve cold butter. Yes, the department of health makes you store it cold, but surely you can let it come up to room temperature just before service. Fifth, the system in place at most fine-dining restaurants that offer a bread service seems to be that, if you say "No, I won't be having another piece just now," they take your bread plate away. This I suppose helps them know not to keep offering you bread. But the reality is that I, and many people I know, sometimes just want a bread intermission. I don't want another piece right away because I don't want to eat ten pieces of bread before my food comes. But I will want another piece at some point. Or maybe I'm not sure. In any event, I don't want to have to ask for a new bread plate if I later decide to have more bread. The solution, leaving a small uneaten piece of bread on your plate to deter clearing, is unappetizing and shouldn't be necessary.

Regarding the questions in the original post: 1. When you ask how long in advance you need to make a reservation, there are a couple of sub-issues that come up. The first is how far in advance you're allowed to make a reservation. Every restaurant has its own policy on this. Some are 30 days, some are 60 days, others have other policies. The second is how far in advance you need to call to guarantee a reservation, as opposed to just have a chance at one. The only thing approaching a true guarantee is to call at the time the restaurant starts accepting calls, on the day it starts accepting calls. Again, you have to find out in advance from the restaurant when this becomes possible, e.g., 10am on 5 October for a reservation on 4 November. (It is sometimes the case that you can do OpenTable.com at 12:01am on the same date as the restaurant starts taking calls at 10am, so that's worth a try). So that's the guarantee, or close to it, and if you absolutely must be at Per Se, or you want the absolute broadest choice of times available to non-VIPs, that's when you have to call. Of course, most of the time you can get a reservation at most restaurants anyway: a week in advance, or even day of. But there's less of a guarantee. If you're coming from a zillion miles away, it's better to call right off the bat. Also, needless to say, mid-week tables are easier to get than weekend tables, and there are various date ranges that are tougher than others. 2. Every restaurant in New York City turns tables. The only restaurants that didn't were Ducasse and Per Se, and both eventually started turning tables. There's no point in not turning tables. There are many people who want to eat early and don't want to take a long time -- either because that's how their personalities incline or because they have to be somewhere. Plenty of people go to a place like the Modern for pre-theater dinner -- they expect to be out by 7:30. So it's insane for such a restaurant to leave that table empty for the rest of the evening, especially since New York restaurants open much earlier and stay open much later than typical Michelin three-star-type places in, say, France do. Not every restaurant expects to turn every table -- Per Se, for example, only re-seats about half its tables, or at least that's what they say. It's also important to remember that, except for in very small restaurants or at very large tables, it's not really the case that table 31 is booked for 6 and 9. Restaurant people speak in terms of "your table" but in reality if there are fifteen two-tops then you get the next one to become available. Restaurants are also balancing no-shows and accounting for the fact that some tables order tasting menus and that there's no way to know that in advance (though Alinea may ask). In the end, 99% of the time in my experience the equation works out either pretty well or, at worst, in favor of the customer sitting at the table. In other words, I have often been asked to wait 15 minutes, and often comped a drink at the bar, but I have only once been aggressively rushed away from a table at a high-end restaurant (Daniel). And it is correct that most restaurants in New York that have high demand for tables will protect (as in only accommodate the occasional VIP) a 60-90 minute time frame (say, 7-8:30) on the schedule in order to create, essentially, a first and second sitting with a bit of a buffer in between. This is unfortunate for the person who can't get past the need to eat during some exact narrow time frame, but it's good for people who like to eat early or late. 3. There are already topics specifically on Alinea, Moto, and various other restaurants. The best move is to ask a question about a given restaurant on that restaurant's existing topic. Whereas, if it's a general discussion of Chicago restaurants, it may warrant its own topic.

This makes me happy.

Jelly! Totally forgot about that one. Be right back . . .

. . . that you eat Nestle semi-sweet morsels straight from the bag. . . . that you eat honey straight from the jar. Next?

Sam, I believe the following statements you've made throughout this topic were correct when you made them and remain correct. The statements square exactly with my experience. I don't think you were imagining excellence on account of novelty, and I don't think the time frame was long enough for this to be a question of the product only being good relative to the surrounding produce -- we're not talking about the 1970s. and With respect to the rest of your post, I promise I understand that it's still possible to get great heirloom tomatoes from the best growers at the Union Square Greenmarket. I'll repeat my points once more, and then I think I'll call it a day, since I don't think anybody has said anything new in a couple of pages: 1) the designation "heirloom tomato" used to be a strong indicator of quality, and now that same designation does pretty much nothing to ensure quality, 2) this is true at the general retail level, and even at the best farmer's markets and restaurants there is now plenty of mediocrity where before there was little (which is not to say that every specimen or vendor is mediocre -- just that they pretty much all used to be good and now they aren't all good); 3) this is a regrettable state of affairs, and is something people in general should be told about.

I've scanned back through the topic and I can't see any reading of it that supports the claim that I'm "in the distinct minority when you argue that the 'heirloom' designation was a guarantee of anything." For example, Sam has posted a couple of variants of the following:

It's a sweeping statement, but I didn't realize anybody disagreed with it. I was under the impression that we had unanimity here on the fact that mediocre heirloom tomatoes are now a common phenomenon and that the "heirloom" designation, by itself, no longer is a guarantee of anything. I believe what you and others have said is yes, that's true, but if you go to specific vendors you can still get excellent heirloom tomatoes. What percentage of the market for heirlooms do you think those specific vendors are now responsible for? Less than 1%? They used to be 100%. That, to me, is remarkable. On the visual inspection point, Mitch, do you select your tomatoes totally at random? Or do you believe that when you look at a group of tomatoes you can pick the better ones out of the group? Needless to say, false positives and false negatives are a fact of life when you select produce. But surely you agree that there are plenty of visual cues to help steer you one way or the other, and that they're worth something. Don't you sometimes see a vendor and walk on past because everything *looks* crummy?

I don't know how one can tell whether a tomato is good or "lousy" without tasting it. There are plenty of visual cues -- the same cues you presumably use to choose one tomato over another when you're given a choice of tomatoes. I may be in the minority, but I don't think they're often mediocre - when purchased from reliable vendors. ← But all the vendors are not reliable -- not even at the best farmer's markets I've been to. That's a major shift from a decade ago, when, as far as I recall, every vendor selling heirloom tomatoes was selling excellent ones. Perhaps some folks don't consider that to be a noteworthy change. Perhaps they also don't consider it noteworthy that we are now awash in a sea of mediocre heirloom tomatoes. For whatever reason, that phenomenon may not be personally relevant to the person who always buys from a single reliable vendor. However, to the world at large, the decline of a once-excellent commodity is relevant. The fact that a designation that once meant something now means next to nothing is relevant. No amount of repetition of the claim that you can still get good product from vendors that still sell good product is going to change that.

Right. It's also worth noting that, with a service charge, you pay sales tax on the service charge. So you're paying sales tax on the whole $250, as opposed to $208.25 plus a sales-tax-free tip.

When it was implemented, it was announced as a 20% service charge.

I wouldn't buy them if they were obviously lousy! But yes, I see obviously lousy ones when browsing.

Both of those commentaries on the infamous Paris dinner are also included in Molly O'Neill's recent anthology, "American Food Writing."

In January, that's exactly what I do. As Russ Parsons commented earlier on this topic: "and that's where those little grape tomatoes come in--they're usually pretty terrific (just by flavor, not by bragging rights--they're very new varieties). Grapes start out higher in sugar (12-13 brix compared to 8-9 for most tomatoes), but they also have fairly thick skins, so they can be picked riper and still survive shipping. When in doubt about what to get, those are a terrific fallback." Because it was. As a simple, empirical fact, it used to be that tomatoes labeled "heirloom" were almost always great, and now they're often mediocre. It's accurate to say that the ones I buy at the Greenmarket are inconsistent. Of course. Now, Dave, let me ask you a few questions. - When was the last time you bought heirloom tomatoes at the Union Square Greenmarket? - Based on wherever you shop, do you disagree that the quality of heirloom tomatoes, at farmer's markets, has become more inconsistent over the past decade? - Do you agree that the designation "heirloom tomatoes" was, a decade ago, a good guarantee of quality, and that now it is not?

Well, I'm pleased to say that the first draft of the manuscript is now complete and we're moving into the editing/rewriting phase of the process. Sometime in the next couple of months I should know the publication date, which should be a year or so from now.

We are in agreement on this, the fundamental point here. But it was, as you just noted, a virtual guarantee of quality -- a designation you could indeed rely on. And now it isn't. I wouldn't know, having never purchased an heirloom tomato at either place. I'm not sure I've even seen an heirloom claim at Stew Leonard's, and I don't really shop at Whole Foods -- I just go in to look around when I'm near Time Warner. I have, however, purchased mediocre heirloom tomatoes at the Union Square Greenmarket twice this summer. I've also purchased good ones. (As well as good and bad ones at Fairway, Eli's, Vinegar Factory, and a few other places -- the point being that sometimes they're good and sometimes they're bad). As I noted in the posts you referenced, I specifically make a point of shopping at the Greenmarket during apple and tomato seasons (your math seems to assume I go once per season?). And I've been doing this over a period of years. Are you buying heirloom tomatoes from a variety of vendors, and have you been doing so over time? If so, I'm really surprised you've not noticed the same trend I have. When I said earlier that "At this point you can't just tell someone 'go to the Union Square Greenmarket and get some heirloom tomatoes' and expect that person to come back with great tomatoes. A few years ago, you could have done that. Now, you have to direct the person to specific stands on specific days, as well as limit the time frame (since even the reputable growers are now selling heirlooms earlier and later than in the past)," I thought that was a pretty obvious claim. Paul Raphael seems to have had a similar experience, and Catherine Iino has had the problem at other farmer's markets elsewhere (as have I). Do you seriously disagree with my statement? If so I'll make a commitment to doing further research before making a stronger claim.

It seems a bit myopic to say that, just because it's still possible to find a decent product amid a sea of mediocrity, the sea of mediocrity is therefore irrelevant. I think we already understood the truism that "if you shop poorly, you get a poor quality product," however it still strikes me as beside the point. The point is that a particular product designation went from being worth something to being worth very little. Some folks, myself included, find that both interesting and regrettable.

Just in case I haven't expressed myself clearly, I'm not saying the best heirlooms at the Union Square Greenmarket aren't as good (or better) as they were at the beginning of the heirloom phenomenon (just to put a date on it, 1997 is when we see a significant number of mentions of heirloom tomatoes in news media, however there were heirloom tomatoes at the Union Square Greenmarket in 1993 in sufficient quantities to inspire several restaurant dishes and a mention in the New York Times). I'm saying that in recent years there have been plenty of mediocre heirloom tomatoes at the Union Square Greenmarket -- which didn't used to be the case. Thus, an overall decline in quality.

Even if we limit the discussion to only the heirloom tomatoes available at the Union Square Greenmarket, in my experience (and I shop there much less often than many other people, but enough to put two and two together) there has been a dramatic overall drop in heirloom-tomato quality. At this point you can't just tell someone "go to the Union Square Greenmarket and get some heirloom tomatoes" and expect that person to come back with great tomatoes. A few years ago, you could have done that. Now, you have to direct the person to specific stands on specific days, as well as limit the time frame (since even the reputable growers are now selling heirlooms earlier and later than in the past). It is also possible, at the peak of the season, to get some great heirloom tomatoes at gourmet markets, especially at Eli's and the Vinegar Factory. You'll just pay a hefty premium. But it's also possible to get lousy heirlooms at these same places now and during much of the rest of the year. Even Fairway occasionally has a nice bin of heirloom specimens tucked between the bad hydroponic heirlooms and the bananas.

There have been occasional high-profile firings of chefs in the wake of New York Times restaurant reviews. I think, however, that it makes the most sense to look at such reviews as markers rather than independent causes. That is to say, such reviews probably derive a lot of their power from the fact that they reflect significant strands of established opinion, and in that regard they can mark the moment at which a restaurant decides to act on the weight of opinion. It's not likely that a restaurant beloved by everybody except one critic would make major changes -- instead, the restaurant would just do its business in the absence of that piece of critical acclaim.

Those statements simply don't square with my experience. There was indeed a time when heirloom tomatoes were synonymous with excellent tomatoes. I never saw a terrible one for the first several years of the trend. Then the mediocre specimens came along, not just at regular supermarkets (where I rarely shop, depsite the tangled web of incorrect assumptions and presumptions that seem to paint me as an A&P-only shopper) but also at gourmet markets (where I do most of my shopping) and greenmarkets (where I've had mediocre heirlooms from the same greenmarkets that others posting on this topic use). Or, as Sam put it, "heirloom tomatoes used to be 100% awesome when you could find them 10 years ago and how they're not the virtual guarantee of quality anymore . . ." So no, I don't think a reductionistic and tautological statement like "If you buy garbage ingredients, you end up cooking and eating at best mediocre food," remotely accounts for the very real phenomenon -- the dumbing down of heirloom tomatoes -- under discussion here.

If ShopRite started selling fish and labeling it as "sashimi grade," and it sucked, then yes, that would certainly merit a discussion of how the designation "sashimi grade" has been dumbed down. It's illogical to argue, just because it's possible to find a good example of a given product, that all other examples are irrelevant.

So a few weeks ago I emailed the Sartori people to request a product sample of Sartori Reserve SarVecchio Parmesan. Actually I filled out a contact form on the Sartori website. Usually, when you do this sort of thing and explain that you're a food journalist, a few days later a hundred pounds of the product show up at your house along with a press kit, followed by emails and phone calls from publicists. But I never heard from Sartori at all. So I forgot about the whole thing. Then, today, I was at Stew Leonard's, the inimitable grocery store in Yonkers, New York. I turned the corner into the cheese section and, lo and behold, there was a gigantic display of Sartori Reserve SarVecchio Parmesan, with a woman offering samples on little toothpicks. Unfortunately, the woman manning the sample station had no actual knowledge about the cheese. Indeed, she didn't even realize it was a domestic cheese. She just thought it was some different kind of Parmesan from Italy. I tasted it four times and was pretty impressed. It's a few generations of product away from being as good as really good Parmigiano Reggiano, but it's good stuff and even has the crunchy crystals. I think the cheese I tried had been aged 14 months, at least that's what I recall the label saying. So it had the characteristics of a younger Parmigiano -- it wasn't particularly dry or crumbly. I'd be interested to taste a 24-month sample, if such a thing exists. The cheese was selling for $8.99 a pound.

Cost of product could account for a small portion of the increase, but not a 40% increase. Otherwise every restaurant at the top level would be showing 40% increases, whereas many have barely increased their prices at all over the past decade. I'm not sure Jean Georges and Le Bernardin have even kept pace with inflation, though we'd have to graph it to be sure. One thing to keep in mind is that restaurants often raise their prices within a year of opening, because they keep their opening prices artificially low in order to attract business. So some of the bump -- probably the bump to $210 -- was inevitable and normal. It just seems large because the base was large to begin with, and therefore a percentage of that base is large as well. The tipping issue may be relevant here as well. At a restaurant like Per Se, it's quite possible that tips were higher than 20%. Nobody knows for sure -- with all the cash exchanged, and with the lack of any studies at this level of the business, for all we know tips were in the 30% range. I'm also not sure how the service charge system affects wine tips. So in part it may be that the restaurant has to pay its staff more in order to compensate for the lost income from the service charge policy. I also wouldn't overlook simple supply and demand as possible explanations. I take no offense if Per Se is simply charging what the market will bear. It could just be as simple as that. All of this has to be viewed against the backdrop of just what you get at Per Se. There's a reason the market is willing to bear such a high price. You can't find this level of experience so easily. You get an amazingly elaborate meal, the restaurant barely seats any people, the quality and quantity of service are astounding, the kitchen is densely populated. I was amazed they could do it for $150 plus tip. I'm probably still amazed they can do it for $250 including tip.