oakapple

Agreed it's not the same system as the Times or Michelin, but like those systems, it's a shorthand that can be used to channel the reader to a decision without having to read the words. It's used in the printed magazine too, not just the website.

An "unsatisfactory" review in the Times is rare. I think there were three zero-star reviews all year. There might have been a handful of one-star reviews where the critic was clearly implying "not worth the bother," although this was never expressly stated. The vast majority of reviews—say, 40 to 45 out of the 52— constituted a recommendation in some sense, even if it was offered with significant caveats.

Clearly we're reading the reviews and remembering what the reviewer says, as evidenced by the extensive "critique the critic" threads here on eGullet. I know that we're not alone (i.e., friends of mine who discuss the NYT reviews, but who aren't on eGullet). It is therefore surely a gross exaggeration to say that "nobody cares or remembers what the reviewer says, if the reviewer's words are even read at all." Similarly, the fact that Roger Ebert gives movies "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" doesn't mean that nobody reads his movie reviews. It is true that there might be some people who make a dining decision based on no other fact than the number of stars awarded. This doesn't mean that everyone with access to the information uses it this way, or even that a majority use it that way. Actually, if you do a restaurant search in New York (the printed magazine or the website), you'll find that the critics' favorites are labeled with a star.

Here's another way of thinking about it. The best box seats at the Metropolitan Opera cost $450. They are sold out for practically every performance. I don't know the exact number of seats at that price, but there are certainly more than 26 of them, which is the seating capacity at Masa. For the same price, you could go to four Broadway musicals and have some money left over. Yet, the Met is selling out every night at the $450 price range. For about the same price, you could go to Masa. Either way, you're getting several hours of pleasure (be it musical or culinary pleasure) at the highest level the city has to offer. Masa has the advantage that it's probably a lot more consistent night-over-night than the Met.

Responding to a few posts at once.... FG pointed out that Craig Claiborne's system was surely a derivative of the Michelin system, which dates back to 1900. At it's now over a century old, we might as well accept the star system as being a part of our culinary heritage that is no more likely to be abolished than knives and forks. FG said: The last part of that is undoubtedly true, but I find some of Bruni's prose uncommonly ugly. For instance, in the Café Gray review: Isn't that too much skewing for three consecutive sentences? Then, there are the lapses of journalistic judgment: the references to hardening of the arteries in the Wolfgang's review; the multiple mentions of Al Taubman in the LCB Brasserie review. Add to that the many comments by Bruni's friends, which he apparently thinks are witty enough to be worth quoting, but seldom are. We've heard less about them lately, so perhaps Frank is catching on. Back to Masa: No need for a fifth star. Masa fits in just fine as a four-star restaurant, because it's at the pinnacle of a serious cuisine, namely sushi. Four stars means "extraordinary," and by nearly all accounts that's exactly what Masa is offering. On Mandy Hesser's no-star review, Sam Kinsey wrote: The piece read as if Hesser took this decision on her own. I don't have any inside dirt, but I would guess she was free to award stars if she wanted to. And had she done so, we wouldn't have seen a re-review from Bruni in the same calendar year.

But the star system as we know it was basically invented by Craig Claiborne, and no one disputes that he knew how to write. So did Mimi Sheraton, Bryan Miller, Ruth Reichl, and William Grimes. Perhaps there's a reasonable argument why we shouldn't have stars. But when the reason given is that the writers haven't learned how to write, the argument can't be taken seriously.

When you make leaping assumptions such as this, it shows that you didn't read what I wrote with any degree of thoughtfulness. My point is that there's nothing you've yet said on the topic that wouldn't be true if the reviews were identical, except for the removal of the stars.

The first review of Masa (Hesser) was 100% a waste of space. This is a fascinating comment. Until the final paragraph—where she demurred on the number of stars to award—this review was no more or less wasteful than any other NYT review. To call the review a 100% waste of space suggests that the words are superfluous, and only the stars count. While I disagree with people who think the stars should be abolished, I definitely think the words are important. Hesser did something useful in that review that I wish critics would do more often: she lifted the veil on the thought process behind the stars themselves, explaining precisely why she was torn between four and three. Having done that, I think she should have awarded four, but that misjudgment was limited to her final paragraph. FYI, I thought that Hesser's most pointless review was Compass. It was a demotion from two stars to one, but in the article she said that the restaurant was planning a renovation. Given that a minor restaurant like Compass isn't going to be reviewed very often, a review just before a renovation is truly pointless. Of course, Compass went on to lose its chef (Katy Sparks). We will presume that Hesser couldn't have predicted that, but the review certainly should have followed the renovation, rather than preceding it.

Such comments are typically made, not specifically with respect to the assignment of stars, but about the overall influence of the reviewer. Opera companies likewise complain about the dominance of the principal New York Times music critic, and Broadway producers about the New York Times drama critic. The Times does not award stars to operas and musicals, but the complaint is the same. It is heard, of course, only when the review is unfavorable. For some reason, they don't seem to mind the influence of a positive review. Indeed, by posting the reviews on sandwich boards and quoting them in ads, they usually hope that the good reviews will be as influential as possible. Ironically, the NYT restaurant critic does not have the influence s/he once did. Asiate and V Steakhouse seem to be doing quite well, despite the one-star rating. That's far more visits than the music, drama, or movie critics base their reviews upon. There's very little in your complaint that would not be true of all types of reviewing by major newspapers. You are therefore arguing—whether you realize it or not—for the abolishment of all published critical opinion that has the potential to influence purchasing decisions. Again, you are presuming far, far, more influence than the reviews, in fact, have.

I'd take this a lot more seriously if the restauranteurs considered it unfair. To the contrary, most restaurants are quite happy to rely on a favorable NYT star rating in promotional materials (websites, reviews posted in the entrance foyer, etc.). When a restauranteur complains, it's usually about receiving too few stars, not about the fact that the stars exist. You might find the odd restauranteur who says he'd rather there were no stars at all. It will probably be a restauranteur who has not benefited from the system. When the restaurant is favorably reviewed, and consequently awarded a high number of stars, for some reason the chef/owner never seems to mind. Funny how that works.

As we reach the end of another year, it's time for the First Annual Dubious Achievement Awards in NYT Food Criticism. Frank Bruni has one review to go, but heck, it's Christmas, so here goes. The categories are: Most Overrated: Awarded to the most egregious example of awarding more stars than the restaurant deserved. Most Underrated: Awarded to the most egregious example of awarding fewer stars than the restaurant deserved. Most Pointless: Awarded to the review that was the most egregious waste of one of the Times's 52 annual reviewing slots. Cheapest Shot: Awarded to the review that took the most unwarranted pot-shot at the chef/restaurant. Hardest Fall: Awarded to the most egregious demotion review (one that takes away stars previously awarded). Most Irrelevant: Awarded to the most egregious example of wasting space on matters having nothing to do with the restaurant. Worst Written: Awarded to the most egregious example of terrible prose that never should have made it past the editor's desk. And now, my view of the winners: Most Overrated: Sripraphai. It received two stars; it arguably deserved zero. Most Underrated: Asiate. It received one star; it arguably deserved three. Most Pointless: Indochine. A formerly "hip" restaurant, nobody had talked about Indochine in years. Why write the re-review, just to tell us that it's now a zero-star restaurant? Cheapest Shot: Bouley. By many accounts, the restaurant deserved its demotion to three stars, but the review itself contained several cheap shots. Hardest Fall: Montrachet (Amanda Hesser). Its demotion to two stars was arguably undeserved, and the review itself was insulting. Incidentally, by my count there were seven re-reviews this year: Union Pacific, Montrachet, Compass, Babbo, Bouley, 71 Clinton Fresh Food, and Indochine. Two of these re-affirmed previous ratings (Babbo (***), 71CFF (**)). The others were all demotions. Most Irrelevant: LCB Brasserie Rachou. The review mentioned Al Taubman four times and Martha Stewart once, concluding that the restaurant was perfect for felons who've concluded their prison sentences. Worst Written: Spice Market (Amanda Hesser). Any number of Frank Bruni reviews deserve an honorable mention, but for purple prose that shouldn't be seen past the freshman year of college, no review beats this one. Feel free to disagree!

Duck seems to be one of Bruni's favorite foods. If it's on the menu, his reviews never fail to mention it. If you're opening a serious restuarant in New York, no matter what else you do, best be sure the duck is terrific.

Many people have noted that: A) The kitchen is wide open; and, B) It blocks the spectacular view of Central Park I thought this was a mistake, and so did Frank Bruni—not the open kitchen itself, but the idea of using it to block the view. Can anyone give a reasonable explanation why any sane designer would have thought this was a good idea?

Let's get something straight: it's not the restaurant that feels it's unfair; the comment is coming from this forum. What the restaurant thinks about it isn't public information. There is a long tradition that new restaurants aren't reviewed until they've been open a little while. There is a practical reason for this. The Times has only 52 reviewing slots per year. A second review of the same restaurant (and not all restaurants get a second review) will most likely be several years after the first. It is therefore more helpful to defer a review until any early jitters are worked out. Whatever you may think of Café Gray's two-star rating, the restaurant is doing good business, so clearly there are plenty of people who are willing to pay what Gray Kunz is charging.

Upthread, I wrote that Frank Bruni's review "did not leave me with any eagerness to visit 5 Ninth." That all changes when you receive an invitation, and your host is paying the bill. That's what happened last night. The building's facade conceals its intentions. It occupies an eighteenth-century townhouse that has seen better days. Amid the glitz of the meatpacking district, it's the building that time forgot. Only the brass #5 on the door tells you that you're in the right place. (My companion, who is not a New Yorker, had to ask at three different storefronts nearby before he was directed to the right one.) It's a narrow building, and therein lies part of the problem. The entire ground floor is the bar. Dinner seating is up a treacherous staircase (we saw one patron take a scary tumble during dinner). Most of the tables seat only two; all of them are small. No one takes your coat; your server just directs you to hooks on the wall. The menu at the website isn't much use. It doesn't show prices, and most of the offerings have changed anyway. Prices have also gone up. The Bruni review stated that entrées are $25-32. As of last night, they were $30-34. (I don't recall seeing any mains below $30, but if there were any, it was only one or two.) There was no amuse bouche, and at these prices I think there should be. Dinner starts slow at 5 Ninth. It was nearly empty when we arrived (6:30pm), but nearly full by the time we left (8:30 or 8:45). An empty restaurant is no guarantee of efficient service. A basket of bread was deposited on our table, along with a heavenly homemade whipped butter, but without bread plates or spreading knives. We thought that perhaps this was part of the meatpacking ethos—who needs plates when you can eat off the table?—but bread plates finally arrived after we'd had two slices apiece. Not that this bread was even worth the effort, as it was crumbly and stale. For starters, my companion and I were both attracted to the sardines. We each received two whole fish, quite a bit larger than usual, grilled crisp and just a bit spicy. Separating the meat from the bones required a bit of labor, although well worth it. We kept the same knives that we had used to spread the butter. I'm sure the staff would have replaced them had we asked...but you shouldn't have to ask. For the main course, my companion had the goat, which looked wonderful (it resembled duck breast, but I forgot to ask how it tasted). I ordered something called "Mr. Clark's Pork." It turns out this dish is named for the farm where chef Zak Pellacio sources his pigs. From the description, you have no idea what you're getting. It turned out to be heaven for pig lovers: pork loin cooked in its own fat, along with another body part deep fried. This came with what could only have been a potato fritter, grilled flat, with a salsa paste on top. At the table next to me, a young lady also ordered Mr. Clark's pork. Unlike me, she didn't ask the server how the dish was prepared, and she was disappointed to receive a preparation with such a high fat content. It wouldn't hurt 5 Ninth to be a little less cute with their descriptions. We skipped dessert, but we were in the mood to finish with some scotch. "Do you have any scotch?" we asked. "Hmmm...I think we have some Laphroig, a McCallans, a Johnnie Walker Blue, and maybe a few others." Here again, this seems basic. Either the server should know, or the after-dinner drinks should be on the dessert menu. Anyhow, we both chose the Johnnie Walker Blue. I'm a single-malt guy, but this was so smooth that I might just be converted to blends. 5 Ninth has been open since May. Service glitches ought to have been worked out by now. The artistry of Zak Pellacio's food deserves better.

I can't claim Fat Guy's expertise, and I've had only one visit to Café Gray, but two stars felt like the right rating. One way of looking at it is by comparison to other restaurants in the genre. In the last several months, I've dined at Blue Hill Stone Barns, rm, Danube, Gotham Bar & Brill, Babbo, March, and Montrachet. All but Montrachet are currently carrying three stars, and Montrachet was at three until its controversial demotion earlier this year. I'd recommend any of the above restaurants over Café Gray. If they were correctly rated at three stars, Café Gray gets two in my book. I'm not suggesting I didn't like Café Gray—indeed, I fully expect to be back. But what Gray Kunz is offering feels like a two-star experience, given what two stars used to mean before the Sripraphai review. I'm sure Frank Bruni stands by the two stars he awarded Sripraphai, but we need to view that rating as both an anomaly and a grievous error, rather than using it as a measuring stick. Otherwise, any restaurant that is clearly better than Sripraphai would have to get three or four stars, which would be ridiculous.

I would have to guess that they were short-handed in the kitchen. They didn't admit this, but I can't think of another explanation. At first, we thought they might be extraordinarily busy that night, but when we left (8:30 or 9:00pm) the restaurant still wasn't full.

A friend and I went to rm on Saturday night. Our meal was outstanding. To start, I ordered the scallops, which were delicious, and came in a more-than-generous portion. The highlight of the meal was sturgeon with caviar. I would rate this as the best entrée I've eaten all year. The portion was a tad small, but I suppose when it's this good you wish it will never end. In a word: Wow! The apple cake dessert was nothing special. That was followed by tea. Rm has a separate tea menu, and they make quite a production out of serving it. They have a custom strainer for separating the leaves (unbagged) from the hot water. The Chinese tea I chose was well worth the extra $5. For dinner, you cannot order a la carte. The prix fixe menu is $68 for three courses. Rm (named for chef Rick Moonen) is known as a seafood house, so I was surprised to see that one of the main course options was a porterhouse for two ($20pp supplement). I like my porterhouse as much as the next guy, but I can't imagine choosing it at rm. There were a few other meat dishes available (e.g., a venison loin), but overwhelmingly the menu is tilted towards seafood. There are also tasting menus at $80 or $100. We were going to choose the $80 tasting, but we were told: "The kitchen has decided not to offer the tasting menus tonight." It was because of this that I ended up with the sturgeon, so I am not complaining too bitterly. Some of the posts on the older rm thread (can these be merged?) mentioned long waits, and we experienced that. The appetizers came out rather quickly, but it was at least a half-hour wait for the mains after our first plates had been taken away. We were in no hurry (and obviously neither was the restaurant), but the food should have come a bit more quickly. Aside from the long wait for our entrées, service was wonderful: polite, attentive, and smooth. The space is tastefully dedorated in a way that slightly resembles the interior of a cruise ship. The tables are discretely spaced, and the ambiant noise level is low. On this showing, rm certainly seemed to deserve its three-star status.

I had dinner at the John Street branch on Friday night. I ordered the most basic thing on the menu: New York Sirloin and French Fries. For under thirty bucks I had a very respectable steak and deliciously crisp fries. I've no complaints about the service. I've never dined at the uptown branch, so I'm not in a position to make any comparisons, but it struck me as respectable food at a very attractive price. Although I live nearby, I haven't gone to Les Halles very often—for some reason, I just never got around to it. I think that's about to change.

That's probably true in general, but DB Bistro Moderne is more than just a neighborhood place. On the other hand, perhaps Daniel Boulud is yanking our chain when he calls that restaurant a "bistro."

I guess it takes a little more than a slightly disingenuous Zagat quote to get me angry at a restaurant. Anyhow, that was about five years ago, and the NY Scalini Fedeli now has its own reputation. I think the Statute of Limitations has expired. I'm absolutely not implying that. JGV's sixteen restaurants are generally very different from one another, and at some of them his involvement is pretty minimal. It would be wrong for JGV to quote reviews of Jean Georges in advertising for Spice Market, suggesting that the two experiences are at all similar. But Scalini Fedeli in TriBeCa is the Manhattan outpost of an identically-named and substantially alike restaurant operated by the same team just a few miles away. Given that set of facts, I think it was defensible to use reviews of the NJ location in their publicity. The analogy would be a musical that has previously played in other cities. Invariably, the pre-opening publicity will quote reviews from earlier engagements, even though the new run of it won't necessarily be identical. Where is this article in Q2?

In today's review, Frank Bruni awards one star to Casa La Femme North. The Times tells us that "Ratings reflect the reviewer's reaction to food, ambience and service, with price taken into consideration." We are never told precisely how these elements are blended, but empirical evidence suggests that the food is usually the primary determinant—as it should be. This is one of the few reviews where it seems clear the restaurant was docked a star for service and ambiance that the critic disliked. It's not till the review's ninth paragraph that Bruni says anything substantive about the food. The first eight paragraphs complain about the belly dancer and the "screechy soundtrack" that accompanies her; "something incrementally ridiculous about a server constantly having to pop through a gossamer cocoon to check on the level of your wineglass"; and "such obvious props as palm fronds and shisha (a k a hookah) pipes and such over-the-top indulgences as the private tents that ring the dining room." Seven paragraphs about the food follow this, and while he doesn't find perfection, he is generally impressed. His comments on the food itself most definitely read like a two-star review. The review's last four paragraphs are, again, mostly about the service and ambiance: "hyperattentive service" and "supervisors paced the room endlessly, peering into the tents discreetly." Some posters on this forum believe that service and ambiance issues shouldn't count in the rating, because they are too subjective. I disagree. The critic's comments about the food are subjective, too. Most diners care about the service and ambiance to at least some degree, and the critic should tell us his opinion, providing enough evidence so that we can reach our own conclusion. Bruni has done that. But I still think the review should be primarily about the food, and in this review the complaints about service and ambiance are given too much prominence. We get the gist of it well before the ninth paragraph, when Bruni finally gets around to telling us what the food is about.

It's the same chef, same management, same cuisine, same name. Since their NY outpost was too new at the time to have its own Zagat review, I don't think it's unreasonable to post the New Jersey rating.

I had dinner last night at Scalini Fedeli (165 Duane, just west of Hudson St). This is the space Bouley occupied before moving to its present digs. Scalini is a pricey restaurant that gets mixed reviews. The New Jersey outpost of the same restaurant gets rave after rave. An underwhelmed William Grimes awarded just one lonely star in a 1999 review, but Bob Lape awarded three in Crain's New York Business. The on-line menu at the restaurant's website says that there are three options: prix fixe at $60, degustation menu at $70, or seasonal game menu at $75. Only the first was available last night. The menu showed over a dozen choices for both the first and second courses (some of which have price supplements). To these, the waiter added a recited lengthly list of daily specials. I find this extremely irritating. A restaurant of this calibre can afford to print a new menu as frequently as necessary, especially when the specials are so numerous. By the time the waiter gets to the end of his list, you've already forgotten the first thing he mentioned. It is too tedious to ask him to go through the whole list again. Anyhow, we both started with the Soft Egg Yolk Raviolo, with Ricotta and Spinach, covered in truffle butter. This was absolutely outstanding. The dish has been justly praised on several websites, suggesting it's a regular on the menu. Curiously, the menu on restaurant's own website doesn't list it, although the one on menupagesdoes. By the way, the amuse was also an excellent raviolo, although I've forgotten what it consisted of. For the entrée, I had the slow roasted breast of duck and leg confit with a mustard seed and black olive sauce. It comes with a Sicilian risotto. This was one of the more ample duck portions I've had, cooked beautifully to a medium rare temperature. There were a good 10-12 slices of duck breast, along with the leg-and-thigh confit served in a separate bowl. (I couldn't understand the reason for separating them.) The mustard seed and black olive sauce didn't quite work for me. It left an aftertaste that was just slightly bitter. It remains, however, one of the best servings of duck that I've encountered. My companion had the roasted veal chop in a porcini dijon and green peppercorn sauce. This looked terrific, and he pronounced himself pleased. After a pre-dessert of two sorbets, I had the carmelized apple tart (the waiter's recommendation), and my companion had the passion fruit panna cotta. I would judge the apple tart a success, but not anything special. Service was excellent. Tables are well spaced, and the noise level was low. The restaurant was a little under half-full when we left at about 8:00pm. On yesterday's showing, I would say the New York Times rating of one star definitely cannot be justified. Scalini Fedeli is at least at the high end of the two-star category. Further visits might show it to be worthy of three.

I'm sure JGV has always opened restaurants with the intention of making money, so that part of the equation isn't new. He has yet to fail in New York, so for now you'd have to say that he's successfully juggling his many responsibilities—economically, at least. Whether the food has suffered is an interesting argument. It's worth pointing out that Spice Market had several raves in the local press—not just from Amanda Hesser. At least one other critic gave it three stars (either Lape or Cuozzo; I forget which), and I believe another was 2 1/2. The NYT gave V Steakhouse 1 star, but that was lower than any other publication that gives out stars. The NYimes rating doesn't really have the influence it once had. It's now just one of several data points, and perhaps not even the most dependable of them.