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The New York Post doesn't do reviews anymore, but in today's issue, Steve Cuozzo writes about two new big-box Asian restaurants opening in Chelsea Market. For comparative purposes, he takes a second look at nearby Spice Market, to which he previously (when the paper was still publishing reviews) awarded 2½ stars:

For posterity, I'm adding this link to the WD-50 New Year's Eve 2005 menu thread.

Can I propose that we merge this into the main WD-50 thread? That way, it is more likely to be part of our ongoing WD-50 discussion, to which people regularly contribute.

But as Fat Guy has persuasively shown, the "star system" has changed since then, becoming more institutionalized. Moreover, as Fat Guy has persuasively shown, that change was pretty much inevitable. There is simply no way Peter Luger could credibly be given four stars now. ← Yes, of course the system has evolved, as it should. But even for its food alone—leaving aside the beer hall ambiance and gruff service—no one who's credible thinks that Peter Luger is serving food that is comparable to the current four-star restaurants. Fat Guy was absolutely incensed that Spice Market received three stars, and Sripraphai two. But perhaps these ratings demonstrate that, even today, if the critic thinks the food on the plate is superlative (as the critics did in both those cases), old-fashioned notions about ambiance don't necessarily control the outcome.

There's a good reason why that's not the case. There are something like 10,000 restaurants in New York City. If every one of them were rated, you would indeed see a whole lot of "Satisfactory," "Fair," and "Poor" ratings. Unfortunately, with just one rated review per week, it would take about 200 years for the critic to get to them all. Therefore, for the most part, the critics generally doesn't waste their time, and ours, on reviews of restaurants that aren't good. (And I'm defining "good" as I did upthread.) In a reviewing genre where the critic is able to cover the entire field—e.g., Broadway plays—you see much more of a range of good and bad reviews, since the paper covers 100% of the eligible population. That's an extreme example and the answer is obviously no. But would a diner enjoy Keller's food as much in a Blue Hill or WD-50 setting? Since there is no restaurant in New York offering food & wine comparable to Per Se in a Blue Hill or WD-50 atmosphere, it is speculation how the critic would treat it. But I've seen no reason why such restaurants could not earn four stars, and certainly you cannot say that the "star system" precludes it. After all, Peter Luger was once four stars. We've been through this before, but on a fair reading of the Bruni review, he did not say that Babbo would be four stars if only Batali would change the music. I do think that diners want top-notch service and a refined atmosphere at a three or four-star restaurant, although the meaning of that has changed over time. For instance, there are only a handful of NYC restaurants today that require a jacket and tie, although this was once common. Obviously the ambiance, like everything else, is a matter of the critic's judgment. Critics are paid to have opinions, and at times we would wildly disagree with them, whether there were stars or not.

"Universal" is a tall order. In my mind "good" implies a strong restaurant in its category and neighborhood, but that is not unique or "special," and may well have significant limitations that offset its best attributes. I think of "excellent" (three stars) as a top restaurant in its category that offers an experience both unique and special, and also has the ambiance and service of a fine dining experience. Two stars (very good) is something between those two. It is, of course, a judgment call, but so is the text of the whole review. I think Fat Guy has a post somewhere that explained all this a lot better than I've just done. I think the system is evolving, however. Once upon a time, fine dining implied an experience like La Grenouille that has now gone out of style. If you look at some of the restaurants that have earned three stars lately (e.g., BLT Fish), I think it is clear that WD-50 and Blue Hill could also earn three stars from The Times if they were reviewed again today—assuming the critic believed the food warranted it. Rich wrote: I haven't been to the Tasting Room, so I can only make a general comment. I would note, first of all, that Adam Platt didn't include Tasting Room in his top 101 for NY Mag. So, one possibility is that, quite simply, critics don't share Rich's enthusiasm for Tasting Room. (Grimes wasn't enchanted, and neither was Michelin; it's starting to look like a trend.) But let us suppose Rich is correct—that Tasting Room has some of the best food in New York, but in an uncomfortable setting. Well, I think setting does count. As Ruth Reichl observed in her eGullet Q&A, dining out is partly a kind of theater. We care about the environment in which it takes place. Would most diners enjoy themselves equally as much if Thomas Keller were serving Per Se's cusine in a McDonald's? I don't think so.

I've a lot of respect for your opinion, Pan, but the New York Times says that one star means "good," and two means "very good." But did this actually lead him to make the "wrong" dining decision? I mean, is there anybody who is going exclusively to three and four-star restaurants — on the purported guidance of the Times that one and two aren't really that good? Mind you, there might be people who only eat at those restaurants for other reasons; I'm asking about people who do so because the Times confused them. I've found Fat Guy's explanations useful and clarifying, but I think I figured out on my own that that's not what one and two stars meant.

Was this a special for you, or is anybody who walks in is getting all of those courses for $92?

New York's innaugural issue of the year lists Adam Platt's 101 Best Restaurants. Not only does he explain and defend the new star system, but he rank-orders the restaurants from 1 to 101. Platt explains the usual objections to a star system: Then he retorts, "Too bad. We’re doing it anyway." Among the reasons given, "people seem to enjoy this sort of thing" and "we’re adding to the fun." I tend to agree that ratings (and the arguments over them) are fun, and one shouldn't get all hot and bothered about it, as some people here do. That rank-ordering, he admits, is "a flight of reckless, possibly insane whimsy." He adds, "Will people still be outraged? Of course they will." The reason given for adopting a five-star system (as opposed to the Times's four, or Michelin's three), is merely that it offers "more levels of discrimination." This is, of course, true; but by that argument, why not 1 to 10, or Gayot.com's 1 to 15, or Zagat's 1 to 30? Anyhow, the choice ensures that the New York ratings won't be directly comparable to those in the Times or Michelin. That's either a good or a bad thing, depending on your point of view. He explains that lower-starred restaurants aren't necessarily worse than their exalted bretheren; just different. However, "one star for a restaurant with elite aspirations is really not much better than no star at all." This is the one flaw that the NY Mag system shares with the Times. One star might mean a good restaurant; but it also might mean a restaurant that aspired to great things, and fell short. For the record, Platt's five-star restaurants are Le Bernardin and Masa. Seven restaurants earn four stars: Per Se, WD-50, Craft, Babbo, Jean Georges, Daniel, and Aquavit. I won't list those at the lower levels, but there are 23 restaurants at three stars, 47 at two stars, and 22 at one star. (Likely the reason for so few one-star restaurants is that magazines like New York devote most of their reviews to higher-end restaurants. One would presume that there's a larger number of restaurants that would earn one star, if only Platt had gotten to them. Also, the cutoff at 101 is obviously space-driven and arbitrary.) Among the sacred cows that Platt slaughters: Alain Ducasse (3*), Danube (2*), Nobu (2*), Bouley (2*, lumped with Upstairs) and La Grenouille (zero). He admits an aversion to chains, thus awarding just two stars to BLT Steak, and none to either Fish or Prime. Since this is a 101-restaurant blast, one must assume that not all of his experiences at these restaurants are current. His two-star slap of Danube is based on a recent visit, but he certainly did not pay the multiple visits that would ordinarily be required for a proper review. Let the games begin!

It seems that when I roll the dice with fine restaurants on New Year's Eve, I keep getting snake eyes. Restaurants tend to offer a limited menu—something they can serve to hundreds of people quickly and easily—at an inflated price. Let me be clear: I did not have a bad meal at Picholine last night. But my friend and I paid almost $800 (incl. tax & mandatory 20% tip) for a dinner that, to put it charitably, just might have been worth about a third of that. A New Year's markup is fair, and to be expected, but a 200% mark-up? I am not so sure about that. Picholine was serving a six-course prix fixe at $195. We began with a quartet of amuses bouches, consisting of: (1) Cauliflower Panna Cotta with Caviar; (2) Peekytoe Crab Tartelette; (3) Goat's Cheese Gougère; (4) White Bean-Truffle Soup. These were all small, but together made a respectable first course. There was a choice of two appetizers. We had the Sauteed Foie Gras and Wild Game Pate with a Kumquat Chutney and Port Vinaigrette. (I haven't noted what the other appetizer choice was.) This was a superb, thick lobe of foie gras, and certainly the best dish of the evening. For the fish course, the choice was Maine Diver Sea Scallops or Wild Striped Bass with Truffle Toast, Salsify and Oyster Jus. We both had the striped bass, which was skillfully prepared without ever rising to excellence. For the meat course, the choice was rack of lamb or Scottish Pheasant with Crosnes, Dried Fruit, and Foie Gras Sabayon. On this dish, the accompaniments were better than the main event. One imagines Picholine's assembly line of scores, and perhaps hundreds, of pheasant breasts, and it isn't a pretty thought. Is high-quality pheasant available in such quantities? I found mine dry and tough. Picholine's cheese course is possibly the best in New York. We received a generous serving of six cheeses, none of them likely to be encountered anywhere else. We were feeling rather bloated by this time, but we did give a try to each of them: (1) Fleur de Maquis, a sheep's milk cheese from Corsica, encrusted in dry herbs. (2) Roncal, a sheeps milk cheese from Navarre, Spain. This was a hard cheese, and our least favorite of the bunch. (3) Le Moulis, a cheese from the Pyrenees, described as "semi-firm, lingering, earthy, and fecund," whatever that means. (4) Winnimere, a wonderful raw cow's milk cheese from Greensboro, VT. (5) Sprintz, a cow's milk cheese from Switzerland that was described as "hard, majestic and profound," whatever that means. (6) Stilton, a cow's milk cheese from England that had a "mineral tang." All quotes are from the cheese menu, which (as always at Picholine) they give you to take home, with your choices circled and numbered. Finally, there was a dessert tasting, which consisted of four small mini-desserts on one plate. At this point my stomach was yelling "No mas!", but I gave most of them a try. I found them unremarkable, but perhaps I wasn't the best judge of things by that time. Mignardises, which I didn't touch, came with the bill. I've saved the most serious complaint for last. Picholine has a wonderful wine list, but we took our chances on the recommended wine pairing, at $115 per person, i.e., $230 for the two of us. At that price, we could have had two terrific half-bottles or a blow-the-doors-off full bottle, and had money left over. Instead, we put ourselves in Picholine's hands, and went home both poorer and disappointed. We were served just four glasses each, with no wine for the amuse or the cheese course. A little math tells you that they were charging $28.75 per glass, and for that price you expect the best, especially at a restaurant noted for its wine list. We were optimistic when we tasted the excellent sauterne that accompanied the foie gras, but what on earth were they thinking when we were served a red wine with the striped bass? I know it is not impossible to drink red wine with fish, but for a wine pairing it was bizarre. Moreover, the server advised that it's "something new from Oregon." For that we were paying $28.75 a glass? My friend aptly characterized it as "flat" and "lacking any body." For the pheasant, our server turned up with another red, which she assured us was "something bolder." We couldn't taste any difference at all. Several hours later, as we were reliving the meal, my friend and I concluded that they give us the same wine for both courses. We are not wine experts, but we think we can tell when something allegedly "bold" is in fact no such thing. A mildly fizzy dessert wine came with the final course, and this was more suitable, but by now we were rather offended at what we'd been given for our $230. I've ordered wine pairings at a number of restaurants, and normally you get a range of provocative choices that present some strong contrasts, and really enhance the meal. Instead, we were simply ripped off. In addition, several of the wines were mis-timed (i.e., arriving well before the food they were supposed to go with). The space at Picholine is of course lovely. Naturally, the restaurant was packed. Our reservation was at 10:30 (after the New York Philharmonic Gala), and there were still people getting seated after us. Service showed the potential for being first-rate, but on such a night, naturally there were slips. On another day, I think Picholine would do a lot better. We paid $195 apiece for the food, $115 apiece for the wine pairing, 20% for service, and tax, for a final bill $795.93. At that price, the restaurant should be going the extra mile—nay, the extra light year—and they did not.

Mario Batali said that there would be no losers when the Michelin New York guide came out—only winners. (His reasoning was that since this is the first guide, no one can "lose" by being de-listed or stripped of a star; there's only upside from being listed, or getting starred.) Well, one of the winners—for me, at least—was Dim Sum Go Go (5 East Broadway, at Chatham Square), which I tried tonight, mainly because it was the closest Chinatown restaurant in the guide to where I live. Dim Sum Go Go (originally named that way, because it offered Dim Sum to go) has a funky, but obviously on-the-cheap, interior that's a step above the usual Chinatown décor that comes out of a Hollywood backlot. Most of the people eating there are caucasian, and I'm not sure if that's a bad sign. The restaurant was fairly crowded, but I was seated immediately. Your server presents two menus, one for dim sum, and one for everything else. The "everything else" menu looks like a typical Chinese menu, while the dim sum menu is a loose sheet of paper. You place your order by checking a box next to the items you want, and a pencil is provided for this purpose. Prices are indicated by Chinese symbols, and you have to find a code at the bottom of the page to interpret them. Individual dim sum orders (3 pieces) are mostly $2.50 or $2.90 at lunch, $3.45 or $3.95 at dinner. You can have a dim sum platter or vegetarian dim sum platter (10 pieces) for $9.95/$10.95. Dumpling soup with Shark Fin is $6.00/$6.95. I suspected that a dim sum platter wouldn't be enough on its own, so I ordered that plus Duck Dumplings and Pumkin (sic) Cakes. The drawback of the dim sum platter is that you have no idea what you're getting. I recognized shrimp, duck, and stuffed mushroom dumplings. The others were a wild fantasy of colors and shapes, and they were all at least interesting. Several were a bit slippery, and given my mediocre chopstick skills, did not easily make the trip from plate to mouth. I wouldn't recommend the pumkin cakes for a solo diner. You get three cakes about 4×2×½ inches. It's basically like eating the filling of a pumpkin pie, without the crust. About one of these is enough, before the cloying sweetness of the dish becomes overwhelming. The main menu describes this as a dessert (which I think is more appropriate), but the dim sum menu doesn't indicate this. I wasn't quite full yet, so I ordered a real dessert: Tapioca with Egg Yolk, and this was wonderful. Service was just adequate. You don't have a server assigned to your table; you just need to flag down one of the "roving" servers. Water was offered only on request, and servers had trouble keeping water glasses full, both at my table and at others. The server who took my initial order was so busy that he didn't even think to ask if I wanted a beverage. William Grimes awarded one star to Dim Sum Go Go in 2001, and in his view the main menu—which I did not try—is actually superior to the dim sum. I can't judge that, but I'll say that a meal of just dim sum is a bit cloying. Next time, I think I'll do dim sum as an appetizer, and then order another main course.

You seem to be assuming the worst. Until shown otherwise, I assume that the blurbs will still be there, and that any restaurant that merited a "critic's pick" star will still get at least one star in this new system. For all we know, the new system may be in addition to, rather than in lieu of, the Critics' Picks. It's notable that NY is adopting a 5-star system. I would guess that the extra star is for the bottom end of the range—the places the NY Times doesn't rate at all, but that are excellent at the casual end of the dining spectrum. Well, given that NY Mag hasn't seen fit to recognize the place at all, it's a bit of a leap to presume that it would be a Critic's Choice if they listed it. I haven't gone through the full list of Critic's Choices in a long time, but if I recall correctly, the system didn't extend to deli counters. It seems to me there are quite a few fallacies in this comment. It presumes that readers will be confused. Well, it's clear that Sneakeater won't be confused, since he's just pointed out the hazard of selecting a restaurant solely by its star rating. I am quite sure that I won't be confused. So, who are these confused people? I would be much more sympathetic to this argument if someone who actually got confused were posting here. As it is, we might be arguing about confused people who don't exist. Star systems are debated fairly regularly on eGullet, and I've never yet seen a post from someone who was confused for the reason cited above. Nevertheless, we have posts assuring us that confusion is rampant, even though the people saying so aren't confused themselves. They're just indignant on behalf of the confused people whom they can't identify, but whom they're sure must exist somewhere. Anyhow, I seriously doubt that there are very many diners who select a restaurant based solely on the number of stars, without looking at any other information.

I visited Danube for the second time last night. It remains a wonderful restaurant for a special occasion. The Klimmt-inspired décor is a gem, although it occurred to me that curtains in the main dining room would be an improvement. It almost spoils the atmosphere to look out the windows and see gloomy Hudson Street outside. Although Danube is a beautiful room—arguably one of the city's nicest (it shares the top Zagat rating of 28 for décor)—it is not a large space. As at many New York restaurants, you could easily reach out and touch your neighbors at adjoining tables. Luckily, the room is not loud. I don't know if it's because diners are speaking in hushed tones, or because the heavy carpeting and tapestries absorb the sound. There are three a la carte menus at Danube: Austrian, Modern Eclectic, and the Chef's Market Choice. Each has two or three appetizers and anywhere between two and five main courses. You are not required to order your entire meal from the same menu. Appetizers are $9-19, but most are under $15. Mains are $26-35. I should note that Danube has what they describe as a "tasting menu" at $85 ($155 with paired wines), but it is actually a four-course prix fixe (appetizer, fish, meat, dessert), with the diner having two or three options for each course. Anyhow, that's not what we had on this occasion. It is remarkable that you can have a very respectable meal at this fine restaurant for $35 total (before tax, tip, and beverages), if you order at the bottom end of the appetizers and entrées. Finding an inexpensive wine at Danube is more of a challenge, as nearly all of the selections on the long list are over $60. We found a very respectable burgundy right at $60. I thought the staff left me to struggle over the decision for rather a long time. At a restaurant of this calibre, a sommelier should come over without being asked. The wonderful amuse bouche was a small cube of smoked salmon, with creme fraiche, cucumber salad, and mustard seed. This was a variation on the same amuse that was served the last time I was here. The server who deposited it at our table had an extremely thick accent, and we had to ask for the description twice. The bread service was disappointing. Several choices of rolls were offered, but both that I tried were unimpressive. At Outback Steakhouse, you get a wonderful loaf of warm, freshly-baked bread. Why is it that so many high-end restaurants are content to serve perfunctory dinner rolls that taste like they were baked hours ago? The food was a happier experience. I ordered from the Modern Eclectic menu. The restaurant is rather long-winded in its descriptions. Per the website, the appetizer was described as "Freshly Harpooned Sashimi Quality Bluefin and Hamachi Tuna, Key Lime Pickled Onion, Pumpkin Seed Oil and Sesame Mustard Dressing" ($14). This was a wonderful dish, rich and flavorful. When the appetizer is this good, sometimes the entrée is an anti-climax, but not here. I ordered "Chestnut Honey Glazed Long Island Duck Breast with Wild Mushrooms, Corn Purée and Seared Foie Gras" ($31). The duck was luscious, tender, and enveloped in fat, while the foie gras was pure heaven. For the record, my friend ordered two of the Austrian specialties, an Austrian ravioli ($11) and the Wiener Schnitzel ($30). She was pleased with both. The tasting menu shows an "Elderflower Gelée with Lemon Verbena Sorbet" as a pre-dessert, and I believe this is what we were served. This was a palate-cleanser, which prepared us for the "Original Viennese Apple Strudel, Crème Anglaise and Tahitian Vanilla Ice cream" ($10). I thought this was just okay; nothing wrong with it, but rather forgettable. Service was generally smooth and polished. Early on, I felt that we were being slightly rushed through our meal. We started with cocktails. It seemed like only a few moments before we were placing our order, receiving the amuse, and inspecting the wine—with our cocktail glasses still half full. Yet, it was over two hours later when we left, so things slowed down considerably later on. While no one would call Danube inexpensive, overall it is very fairly priced for what you are getting. The New York Times ratings have been bastardized in recent years, and three stars isn't quite what it used to be. Danube has truly earned every one of its three stars. It is one of the city's best fine dining experiences.

The Four Seasons has one of the better restaurant websites. For a place that is apparently snoozing in the kitchen, and has no trouble filling its tables every night, it's surprising they went to such expense and effort on the web. In the Pool Room, appetizers are priced $15-36 (excluding caviar dishes), and most are $22 or more. Main courses are priced $38 (Maryland crab cakes) to $72 (lobster), and most are $42 or more. In the slightly less formal Grill room, appetizers are also in the $15-36 range, but there are several reasonable options at the lower end of that range. Mains are priced at $34 (a Bison Burger or an Ahi Tuna Burger) to $72 (lobster again). Is there any restaurant in New York with a more expensive a la carte menu? I can think of several that are more expensive, but they are prix fixe.

The Bruni Digest has now added a 2005 Best of Bruni post. Highlights include: Most Irrelevant: Frederick's Madison and Bette Biggest Winners: Sripraphai and Bistro du Vent Biggest Losers: Alain Ducasse, Ninja, Koi The author notes that the Sripraphai review actually dates from November 2004, but "it marks, according to many, the most scandalous thing in Frank's record to date." I agree with the comment, but sticking to the calendar-year theme, I'd replace it with The Red Cat. An honorable mention to Compass, which deserved its two stars, but has to be the luckiest restaurant in the city, with its third rated review in four years.

It's human nature to rate things. Of the major media in New York with weekly restaurant reviews, most assign stars, and it is common in other cities, as well. The NY Post dropped its star rating system this year, which I think was a mistake. As Ruth Reichl observed in her eGullet Q&A, it merely served to diminish the Post as a meaningful contributor to the city's restaurant journalism. NY Mag's choice of a 5-star system is peculiar, as the Times, the Daily News, and Crains all employ the more familiar 4-star system. Rich finds the star system archaic, which is probably a misuse of the word, since as I understand it, Rich believes that the system never made any sense; not that it formerly made sense, but has lost its relevancy. Rich, in turn, praises the New Yorker reviews, which in my view are the worst restaurant reviews in town. Publications aren't going to drop restaurant ratings, because they foster debate, and debate is always good for business. Those Michelin folks are geniuses. Whatever you may think of their stars, do you think they would have gotten all that publicity if they'd just published a list of restaurants without ratings? By the way, NY Mag always "rated" restaurants: those the critics particularly liked were labeled "Critics' Picks." On their website, you can limit your search to those restaurants, just as on the Times site you can search for a particular number of stars. In effect, the old NY Mag system was a binary star system: either the restaurant was a pick, or it wasn't. The new system simply allows the magazine to be more nuanced in its recommendations.

I had a similar experience about a year ago at Fleur de Sel. Not quite as bad as yours, but in the zip code. However, it is well regarded by people whose judgment I respect, so I suspect it is uneven. Or perhaps a lot of the key staff take time off every year at Christmas time.

The red neon sign at the corner of Park Avenue S. and 19th St beckons me every time I drive by it in a taxi. I gave the restaurant a try last night, mainly because my ten-year-old son is fond of very few foods, but crab happens to be one of them. The space, on three levels, is massive. Both Ruth Reichl and Eric Asimov reviewed it, and both of them said that it is loud when crowded. It was decidedly not crowded last night. We were seated at a high-top table with bar stool chairs, which was comfortable enough, but a curious choice given the many other empty tables. City Crab is one of those places that offers every seafood entrée grilled, broiled, sauteed, fried, or blackened. I chose the blackened scallops, since I'd never had scallops that way before. I wasn't disappointed to receive five good-sized scallops (plus rice pilaf and cole slaw) for just $19.99. The heat of the cajun spices pretty much defined the dish, but I expected that. I foolishly allowed my son to be upsold on the crab legs. They were $29.99 a pound, which the server said was just three legs. "Most people get a pound and a half," he said. So we ordered that much, which turned out to be a massive, $45 portion, which even the typical adult probably wouldn't have finished. Even my son, who is not especially price conscious, recognized the wretched excess. He could have had a new video game for that amount. The bread service was better than many higher end restaurants, and I was especially impressed with the dessert menu. It was printed with the current date, and there was a named pastry chef, which I wouldn't have expected at this type of restaurant. My son particularly liked the oreo ice cream cake, which was perhaps the most impressive thing that we tried. Service was generally attentive until, most curiously, after we'd received our dessert. Finding our waiter to request a check proved to be a challenge, and we had a movie to catch. Thanks mainly to that ridiculous crab order, dinner for two was $80 before tax and tip.

The full Del Posto menu, in all its glory, is available in this Chowhound post. The prices are not unreasonable for a high-end restaurant. Antipasti are $13-19. Pastas are in a wide range, $12-30. Risottos for 2 are $50. Secondi are generally $27-30, except for meat dishes for two, which are $70-100. Leg of lamb for the whole table is $210, but this is obviously an enormous portion for 6 people. Likewise the mixed grill ($230) or the arctic char ($220). Desserts are $12-15.

In today's New York Daily News, Pascale Le Draoulec awards 2½ stars to Saul:

It is precisely to foster such arguments that the star system exists. To give a non-food example, look at these ratings of the latest Peter Jackson film, King Kong. The New York Post rates it "A" ("the year's best movie"), but the SF Chronicle rates it "C–" ("the film is overlong, repetitive and lacks impact"). It's human nature to rate things, and it's human nature that there will be disagreements. The Times rating of a restaurant is simply one data point, among many. Having said that, the star ratings cover a wide range. Perhaps even Frank Bruni would agree that The Red Cat is at the lower end of the two-star range, and Blue Hill is at the upper end. After all, Bruni awarded three stars to Blue Hill Stone Barns, and the cuisine at the original Blue Hill is awfully similar. I also think that there's a +/- one-star margin for error among reasonable people. I happen to agree with those who've argued that The Red Cat was overrated by a star, but the Chowhounds absolutely adore the place.

Obviously we saw the piece differently. I saw it as a critic writing critical piece about a trend in the city's restaurant industry that he deemed worthy of observation. I see no problem, ethical or otherwise, with critics occasionally taking a step back, and writing about trends in the industry they cover. An ethical issue would arise if the writer is so deeply "in bed" with the subject matter that s/he can no longer critique it objectively. That was a distinct possibility with Amanda Hesser and Spice Market. But Bruni hasn't compromised himself in that sense (at least, not as far as we know). Mind you, I often disagree with Bruni's critical judgments, as well as the quality of the prose with which he expresses them. But I have never doubted that he retained the necessary independence to remain a critic. Indeed they do not. This was not a review of Del Posto, although he did make such comments about other Batali/Bastianich restaurants that are open. Because there isn't a God-given right to be covered in the Times every time you think you've done something important enough. It is doubtful that another writer would have visited all of the Batali/Bastianich restaurants and provided a brief critique of each. I'm not saying no one else could have (Hesser, Prial, Burros, and Asimov have all written reviews in the past, so presumably are capable). He probably is. The same would be true, however, whenever Bruni writes a Diner's Journal column, and follows it up with a rated review, which happens several times a year. The rated review and the rating itself will endure on the Times website for years to come. Theoretically, a restaurant could make corrections based on the DJ column in time to influence the full review, although I am not sure whether that's ever happened. Indeed, at least in Bruni's case, the DJ column is usually a fairly good predictor of what he'll write in the full review. I don't know whether that's because: A) The restaurants don't try to make changes; B) They try, but are unsuccessful; or, C) Frank's already decided what he thinks, and nothing can be done to change his mind. I don't see a problem with it, as long as the critic isn't figuratively "in bed" with the subject. There are plenty of examples where a Times reporter becomes an expert in a particular 'beat', and then writes a "step-back" piece in which s/he speaks broadly about trends in a particular area. The pieces are usually captioned differently (e.g., "News Analysis") to make clear that they're not straight reporting. The Bruni piece in question was captioned "Critic's Notebook," which is the standard label on the food page for Bruni's quarterly "restaurant trends" column.

Yes, but other restaurants at that venue are apparently succeeding. I will not disagree, since you seem to have inside information, but I would question the business logic. It's certainly true that JGV could cover the revenue shortfalls at some restaurants with surpluses at others. But why would he? Vongerichten is not running a charity operation. If a restaurant is a persistent money-loser, you'd expect him to retool the place, or to give up eventually (as he has now done at V). About the only exception is the flagship, Jean Georges, the closure of which would entail a considerable loss of prestige. But I don't think his reputation stands or falls on whether 66 or Mercer Kitchen stay open. (I just picked those two at random; I have no idea whether they're successful.) If they're not working, presumably he would revamp or close them.

I'm replying to a comment in the Del Posto thread, to ensure that thread doesn't degenerate into a debate about the NY Times editorial policy. Just about everything that appears in the Times's lifestyle sections is partly the result of skillful PR. The article was an overview of the entire Batali/Bastianich empire, with an opinion on each of those restaurants—including some unfavorable comments that clearly reflected Bruni wearing his critic's hat. Obviously the Times has other writers capable of expressing opinions about high-end dining, but they pay only one person at a time to do that. Right now, he's the guy. The Times's restaurant coverage has never been even-handed. Compass has had three rated reviews in four years, while Jean Georges hasn't had a rated review since the Ruth Reichl era. It's not as if the paper has some civic duty to give every restaurant equal time. The critic covers what he finds worthy of coverage. It is clear that the Times wants their restaurant critic to comment on developments in the restaurant scene generally, rather than merely reviewing restaurants one at a time. Since there is only one critic, he needs to decide which developments are sufficiently newsworthy to justify the space, and this means there will be winners and losers. Perhaps he will write a preview article on Danny Meyer's next place. But perhaps he will not. Trust me, Meyer also has a publicist, as does every major restauranteur in this city. They all want Frank Bruni to write about them. Although I criticize Bruni for many things, I think he understands that publicists are trying to manipulate him. It's his job to decide whether a new development is really what the press release says. The analogy to "l'affaire Hesser" seems inapposite. I presume you're referring to her three-star review of Spice Market after Jean-Georges Vongerichten wrote a glowing blurb on the dustjacket of her book, Cooking for Mr. Latte. There has been no suggestion that Frank Bruni has a similar conflict of interest.

Once upon a time, David Burke and Donatella Arpaia opened a hot little restaurant on the Upper East Side. The food was inventive and terrific. The space was noisy, but packed every night. Flushed with success, Arpaia opened her own place in Soho (the undistinguished Ama). Burke took over the catering operation at nearby Bloomingdale's, launched a steakhouse in Chicago, and started planning another in Manhattan. With all of this extra-curricular activity going on, is anyone minding the store at the flagship restaurant that bears both their names? My experience last night suggests that one or both of them needs to start spending more time at East 61st St, ere DB&D becomes a sad caricature of itself. I still have fond memories of my first visit (eighteen months ago), but the restaurant is now misfiring. This was a year-end celebratory dinner with two friends who live in Boston, but have been working in New York. We knew that the transit strike would make it difficult to get uptown, and my friends suggested that we cancel. However, I was determined to keep the date. We hailed a cab immediately, but the driver had first to drop off somebody else, which required a bit of a detour. In all, it was about a 90-minute trip from our TriBeCa office to the restaurant, more than double than normal. Exasperated with the traffic, we left our cab behind at 57th & Park, and walked the last five blocks. (FYI, taxis during the strike are charging per person by the number of fare zones crossed; we were charged $15 apiece — $5 times three zones.) Transit strike notwithstanding, DB&D was fully booked. They graciously honored our reservation, although we were 40 minutes late. The noise level was just as I had remembered it: practically deafening. The server dropped off an amuse bouche, but we couldn't hear his description of it. We were barely able to ascertain that it contained no pork (which my companions do not eat). It was a small pastry filled with some kind of tangy meat—but what? My companions are identical twins, and they ordered identically. They started with grilled oysters, which they described as unpleasantly gooey, and left unfinished. I had the Scallops "Benedict" ($15). This was two fried egg yolks, each atop a scallop, atop a slice of bacon, atop a potato pancake: in short, about two ingredients too many; a promising idea run amok. The bacon was tough, as if left over from breakfast the day before. My companions did better than I for the main course. They had the Lobster "Steak" with curried shoestring potatoes ($40). They got an enormous helping of lobster, shaped like a fillet mignon, with which they were quite happy. Alas, I had no joy with the Halibut "T-Bone" ($38), which came with lobster dumplings that were both tough and gummy. The halibut was bland, and the portion was small. Although the restaurant has been open just two years, there is already a section of the dessert menu labeled "DBD Classics," from which we ordered. My companions shared the famous cheesecake lollipop tree ($16), while I had the coconut layer cake ($10). This was the only course that all of us found successful, and the only part of the meal that I'll remember with any fondness. David Burke was in the restaurant last night, but he was in civilian clothes, talking on his cell phone. He's obviously not minding his kitchen, and he's not minding his website either. Visit http://www.dbdrestaurant.com/, and you'll be reminded that "Thanksgiving is just around the corner." There are bugs in the site, and it takes several frustrating clicks to get to the online menu, which is outdated anyway. (The first click brings up David Burke's spring recipies, instead of a menu. The second click brings up a section called "Our Little Nest." Finally, you see the menu.) We wondered how difficult it would be to get a taxi home. Although there are plenty of taxis out, you can't easily tell whether they're available, because the meters aren't running during the strike. As we were all rather full, we decided to walk off some of the calories, and see how far we got. In the end, we just kept walking. It was about two hours from 61st & Lex to John & Gold, or about 6-7 miles in 30-degree weather. But it was a lot more pleasant than sitting in a taxi. As I observed last time, the tables at DB&D are packed as tightly as can be. Our table was near the front door, in front of the bar, and a long walk from the kitchen. Our server was pleasant and tried hard, but she was obviously very busy, and there were long stretches when we didn't see her. I ordered a glass of wine to go with the appetizers. I would have ordered a second glass of wine, but by the time she re-appeared the meal was almost over, and I didn't bother. They did manage to keep our water glasses replenished. Marian Burros of the Times rated DB&D at two stars. On the strength of my first visit, I thought that the restaurant arguably deserved three. On the weakness of last night's visit, it would earn only one.