Tom Sietsema

Let me clarify something. While I try to visit anonymously, that doesn't always happen. And in THOSE cases, I insist that any extra fillips are put on my bill and I stay at the table my party was assigned. (More than a few times, I've followed my guests by several minutes and had managers want to move us to a better table once they see that I am part of the group. It's a big, loud signal that we are sitting in Siberia or someplace inferior.) If I know that a restaurant recognizes me, I will use my own credit card or pay in cash. No sense in wasting a good alias, right? (I also change those fake names every few months as restaurants learn them.) After all`these years in the business, I am not going to be swayed by any extra attention. I hope readers are smart enough to know that, and that I've built up some trust in my tenure.

In response to the query from Steve, it's my sense that a lot of people in the business, from chefs to flaks to managers, do weigh in or at least check out the weekly chat. Some of the trade are there "live," most look at the discussion after it's been archived. I know this because they tell me: each week, I get dozens of calls and emails from restaurateurs after the Wednesday show responding to some aspect of what unfolded. Bottom line: I really appreciate their participation, which often makes for a more informed discussion (restaurateurs can explain their end of the business). Mark raises some good points. Yes, a lot of the same questions get asked, but I try not to address more than a handful of them, because regulars get tired of that (as do I). A FAQ link is a great idea. I simply haven't had the time to put one together. (Contrary to what people think, I am a solo act with no assistant, and I have three weekly deadlines, plus a fall guide, plus Travel section stuff, plus a book I'm writing. Not that I'm complaining, just explaining.) I have included Mark's comments a number of times in the past (Mark, do YOU ever post anonymously?) and value his contribution. Keep in mind, I am scrolling through dozens, sometimes hundreds of postings, once the hour gets into full swing and I like to offer a range of topics in that time frame. I'm not intentionally trying to leave someone out, but ... it gets busy! And there's competition for your question. I frequently even post comments from people who disagree with me in an effort to be fair. As for the slow server, I wasn't aware that that was a problem. I'll pass the news along.

I try to be anonymous -- I make reservations under other names and use fake credit cards or pay in cash -- but that's not always possible in a market as small as ours. Getting recognized means I have to work harder to guage service, etc. To avoid being influenced by chefs, I write my review before calling the restaurant to fact-check the piece. That prevents me from changing anything when the chef tells me "You know, I think you were in the night my wife left me" or "the dish washer never showed up for work" or whatever. I decline free food or drink. That's what expense accounts are for. If a chef wants me to try a new dish, and he's offering a sample to others in the room, I don't have a problem with that, though. Most often, I remind the host that "I need that to be put on my bill." Most operators understand.

Ah, you are in good hands -- those restaurants would be some of my suggestions as well. You might add to the lineup Palena in Cleveland Park and the recently-opened Nectar near the Kennedy Center. I also like 2941 in Falls Church, which might even have its patio open by the time you visit.

For a full review, I visit a place a minimum of three times, though I return as many times as I think I need to in order to get the best sense of a place.

My hope is that I come across as a good friend who wants you to eat well, someone who can point you in the direction of places that are worth your time and money, and away from those that are not. I think it’s also important for a critic to provide an interesting read; not everyone is going to be going to the restaurant in question, after all. My constituency is the diner more than the restaurant operator or chef, but if I can boost the scene with a positive review, I’m certainly all for that. Now and then, I’ll put something in a review to let folks know where I stand, or make a point (why are desserts so bad around here? Why do so many restaurants store their wines improperly?) The Sunday Magazine reaches about a million people, so my audience is pretty mixed. And judging from my calls and letters – I hear from college students, yupsters, retirees, foreign visitors -- it’s a diverse bunch. I keep that in mind when I write: some people are on tight budgets while others think nothing of plunking down $200 for a bottle of wine. Some readers have eaten their way around the world while others might need me to explain what dim sumor tapas are.

You raise some really interesting points there. Let me preface my response by pointing out that for my inaugural review as food critic in the Magazine three summers ago, I chose not to review a new place that a lot of people had yet to experience, but a veteran establishment (The Prime Rib) that far more readers might have sampled or at least heard about. I was a new voice; readers didn’t yet know me. But they might have an opinion about the long-running steak house on K St. and use that to get a better sense of my taste and values. As for credentials, my bio prefaces my online chat every Wednesday, and I sometimes refer in reviews to having lived in the Midwest, the West Coast or to making trips abroad. In the age of the Internet, it’s not hard to find out where critics have spent time. In the end, though, reviewing is not science but educated opinion. I am constantly revisiting restaurants that have been previously reviewed – for the fall dining guide, for my forthcoming restaurant book, for the Magazine (one of my goals is to offer readers more updates on veteran players, particularly after major changes). Most recently, for instance, I went back to Sushi-Ko and Taberna del Alabardereo here, and wrote about the changes in a double review. My colleagues at major newspapers tend to do similar things, to keep abreast of what is indeed a moving target.

Whether in the form of a call, a letter or an email from readers, I do try to keep tabs on various restaurants and revisit them as necessary (as complaints arise, etc.) I really enjoy the spontanaiety of the Live Online chats. They provide me with an immediate sense of what's on readers' minds. Occasionally, I even get tips I can use. One problem is, the audience knows ME -- my resume is right there for all to scan -- but I don't know all members of the audience. So I have to be careful. The anonymous poster complaining about Restaurant XYZ might just be a jealous competitor. The person who raves about Restaurant ABC might be the owner of the joint.

Knowing what I know about the business -- how little money is usually made, how much work goes into projects, the pressure of putting on a live show night after night (weekends and holidays) --- there's no way I would ever open a restaurant of my own. I greatly admire those who do it well, I should add, but I'm content to be on THIS side of the table, thanks.

Ha! I get to work early on Wednesday morning in order to prepare for the 11 a.m. chat, and I do this by pulling up a screen on my computer with all the (early) questions and comments that have been forwarded to me by a producer in Arlington. There might be a dozen questions waiting for me, or 20, or 40. It depends. I'm a slow typist, so I begin to answer queries in a Word document -- this is also when I make a call to verify a chef change, or track down addresses for restaurants in Paris -- and cut and paste my responses once the show starts. Obviously, once we begin, I really have to hustle, because the questions start to flood in, faster and faster, beginning at 11 a.m. Out of over 100 questions, I can get to 30 or 35 on average. During this time, the door to my glass office in the Style section is closed, and I'm armed with a bottle of water and hot coffee. It must look like I'm studying for a big exam, with my reviews and books scattered about my desk.

For most restaurants, dessert is something of an after-thought. That's really unfortunate, because dessert is a kitchen's last chance to make a good impression on a diner. For too many establishments, the easy way is to crank out crowd-pleasers that don't involve much labor or cost much to make: creme brulee, molten chocolate cake, tiramisu, sorbets, etc. The more thoughtful approach is to hire a person whose time is devoted to the final course and give him or her adequate space in the kitchen to to the job right. But a skilled pastry chef costs money, and when push comes to shove, a lot of businesses feel they can't afford one. So they get a line cook or whatever to make the same old, same old. Restaurants tell me they do this because "that's what people want." I say, give guests better choices, train the waiters to sell them, and watch everyone pick the new thing over that tired creme brulee and that ubiquitous chocolate cake. Steve Klc is lucky to have the support of his bosses -- and WE'RE lucky that he's in Washington. Another promising talent: Jarad Slipp at the just-opened Nectar in Foggy Bottom.

One of the great things about working for a place like the Post, which takes restaurant criticism seriously, is that I can go to a place as many times as I think I need to to get a sense of the restaurant. If I know someone has a history or a relationship with a place, I might include that person on one of those visits. That tells me something about the restaurant. So, too, does experiencing the dining room as a solo guest; I sometimes go out by myself, in part because Washington has loads of singles who eat out and in part because, quite frankly, I'm tired of having to be the good party host. (Restaurant reviewing is not for the shy or the anti-social.)

Oh, I agree! There's no higher compliment than to have someone read you, or want to read you, even if he or she doesn't plan to (take your pick) see the film, read the book or visit the restaurant. Another word I avoid: "affair". And I limit my use of "flavorful."

Hmm. This sounds suspiciously like the emails I get from chefs and publicists who want to know what I think of their establishments or clients .... Let's just say that Chef Geoff's, which has two locations, wouldn't be the first place I'd recommend to a fresh face here in Washington. Tell me your budget, where you want to eat, WHAT you like to eat, and I can be of more assistance.

I certainly pay attention to what kind of treatment the diners around my table are getting and occasionally send in food spies (trusted pals) to gauge the way a restaurant deals with anonymous diners. And last year, for my fall dining guide, I visited a half dozen prominent restaurants where I knew the staff knew me, wearing heavy disguise. (Boy, did my night at the Inn at Little Washington ever feel different than in years past! )

Whoa! I think you just posted a dozen questions in one there! In brief: I read the competition, but usually only AFTER I have written about a place, because I don't want to be influenced by outside forces. I don’t let popular opinion sway me. The review process starts with the way the voice on the other end of the phone handles my reservation and ends with the valet. In other words, I am looking at many, many details (not just food and service), from beginning to end, over the course of three or more visits to a restaurant. My goal is to write about two suburban places and two Washington spots every month. I aim for a mix from week to week: a mix of neighborhoods, price ranges and cooking styles. When I can, I like to do double reviews, and updates on established places. Going to a restaurant isn't just about eating. One prominent chef told me not long ago that "service is everything." People will put up with middling food if they feel cared for, but gripe about inferior service even if they're eating something great. I tend to agree.

I get so tired of Washington being compared (unfavorably) to New York sometimes, and frequently by New Yorkers who either haven’t dined here recently or eat in all the wrong places! That ancient saw about Washington not caring about its restaurants simply isn’t true anymore, and hasn’t been for years now. Lots of interesting things are happening here, stuff that is drawing the interest of outsiders. Zaytinya, Maestro, Michel Richard Citronelle – there are a number of kitchens that are raising the food bar, locally and nationally. Do we have as many restaurants? No. But for people who care about food, Washington is among the top 10 restaurant cities in the U.S.

Most of my reviews for the Magazine and my "postcards" for Travel are archived. To locate the former, click on the Entertainment tab on the home page of washingtonpost.com, then the Restaurants tab. My Travel stuff is on that site, under Columns.

I’m fortunate. Living in a world capital gives me easy access to people from every corner of the globe, and I occasionally tap that mine when I have a question about some aspect of a far-flung cuisine. (Most recently, before a dining tour of Amsterdam, I took the cultural attaché from the Dutch embassy out for lunch to get details on the restaurant scene there.) More often, though, I pore over cookbooks or visit ethnic markets ahead of any visit to a restaurant whose food I might not be acquainted with. And DC is full of people who have traveled all over and make great guides to said restaurants.

What kind words! I’m blushing. Do I miss the Bay Area? Most definitely. I still have a lot of good friends out in San Francisco and try to get out there twice a year or so to see them – and keep up with the food scene, of course. (And no matter how busy I might be, I always save time for a meal at Zuni Café. ) As a reporter for the Chronicle, I loved writing about trends just as they were emerging, often before they hit other markets; as a reviewer, it was a pleasure to write for an audience that cared so deeply about matters of the table. Trends seem to start on the West Coast and fully develop on the East Coast. Things I miss most: West Coast wine lists (often with boutique stuff that never leaves the area), West Coast food shopping (long live the Berkeley Bowl!), and the West Coast lifestyle -- what I call a "wine mentality." People do live to eat out there and take their restaurants seriously.

I have a love/hate relationship with the online chats. I relish the hour-long back and forth with the posters every Wednesday morning, and I hope they are getting some of their restaurant questions addressed in the process. But, because the forum is live, I come out of the hour wiped out, as if I had just finished final exams in college. The pressure is high, because there’s not the luxury of contemplation that I have with my written work, which increases the risk of making a mistake or saying something I might later wish I hadn’t. So Wednesday is not a productive day for me, as far as my own deadlines go. (I always intended to continue the food chat started by my predeccessor, by the way.) When I look at the transcripts afterwards, I sometimes regret a response here or a snarky aside there, but … that’s the nature of the beast. I want the chats to be useful and entertaining and open and am glad to host a restaurant program. But it is trickier than you might imagine.

Ah, good question! And something I think about on a regular basis. Most critics I know have words they personally ban from their work (“toothsome” is one of mine, and I try really hard to steer clear of “delicious”) and some of us also have terrific editors who remember that we used such-and-such a phrase three weeks earlier in our copy. Instead of adjectives, I sometimes use mental pictures: “The phyllo cover was so light it practically floated” or whatever. The image conveys “good” or “interesting” without resorting to those routine words.

I do think it is important for a critic to know about ingredients and how things go together. That kind of knowledge simply makes for a more informed review. Does said critic have to be a GREAT cook? No. Perfect knife skills, for instance, don’t necessarily translate into entertaining writing. Allow me to clarify something: I have never worked “the line” in a restaurant kitchen; my experience on The Other Side of the Business was strictly “the front of the house.” Any culinary talent I have is the result of years of recipe testing, first for the Food section of the Post, and later, as the food editor of the Milwaukee Journal. I do very little cooking these days, due to my dining schedule of twelve or so meals out every week. And frankly, I miss spending time in the kitchen.

Of the current crop of restaurant (please note the qualifier) writers around the country, I always look forward to reading Rick Nelson of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, Brett Anderson of the Times-Picayune in New Orleans, Nancy Leson of the Seattle Times, Jonathan Gold (news flash: soon to be departing his regular gig in Gourmet), Sherrie Verbila of the Los Angeles Times and anything put down on paper by Ruth Reichl, who has really raised the bar for food critics. (No one writes a better editor’s notes at the beginning of a magazine than she does.) William Grimes of the NY Times is a joy to read, too, even if I’m not always in agreement with his assessments.

(Hi Lesley!) I am a big believer in trying to experience restaurants as an anonymous diner, though it gets harder and harder as time goes on and people in the business learn what I look like. Restaurant criticism is much different from other forms of arts examination. An author can’t change the ending of a book to suit every reviewer, for example. But a restaurateur can do a lot of things, short of firing the chef, to make a dining experience more pleasurable for a recognized reviewer, from giving him or her the best seat and the most polished waiter to making sure his or her plates all look ready for their close-ups. Details such as those can obviously alter one’s perception of a restaurant. In the past, when I’ve been spotted, I’ve been offered different stemware for my wine, had the general manager as my server, and even been offered the suit jacket of a maitre d’ when I showed up in his dining room, dripping with rain from an unexpected storm. Would that have happened to John Doe? Probably not. I do have disguises, but prefer not to detail them here. I’m still a working critic, after all.