Eat Your Words: What it is to be a food critic

For some years, I used to write a column on food in this newspaper and prior to that I was a restaurant critic for The Asian Age. It was an interesting time to write about food as new restaurants were opening in the city and there seemed to be a sense of excitement about new cuisines and ingredients. Five years back, if you tried to get any lettuce other than the ubiquitous iceberg, you would have been met with complete incomprehension. Now, you get a variety of lettuce in shops such as 'Nature's Basket', and people's understanding of Western cuisine has grown manifold. The passion for cooking is demonstrable by the success of shows such as Masterchef Australia and the growth of the cookery book industry and the popularity of regional cuisine.

The one aspect that I find lacking in India is food criticism. Critics are often accused of having a very cushy job. Who would not like to spend time dining in restaurants and commenting on the experience as well as being paid for it? In India, you have to go to all manner of restaurants, some of which are seriously bad; in many cases, as in my time, you would have to pay for the meal and the newspaper would pay you a fraction of the cost as your fees for writing a restaurant review, which did not include the price of the meal. Commonly, many food critics get bad names because of the relationship with restaurants where there is an informal understanding that they will not charge for the meal and drinks provided a favourable review is given. This is why some newspapers, who pay for the restaurant meal, emphasise this fact at the end of their reviews.

In my view, this does not necessarily guarantee the best outcome. Often, the full-time journalist dispatched to do the job may not know much about food and so, an objective review does not necessarily make it an informed one. Like most things in life, knowledge is a product of experience, and good food critics are persons who not only have a passion for food but have great experience in dining out, travelling and, in some cases, cooking. Today, there are a few food critics in that category, a Vikram Doctor or a Vir Sanghvi are obvious examples, but they are full-time journalists with a passion and knowledge for food which is unrivalled.

The issue of food criticism was highlighted when I attended a chef's conference in Mumbai a few years ago, and a panel was constituted, which included Rashmi Uday Singh, Vikram Doctor, Farzana Contractor and myself as critics. We were asked as to how we would approach restaurant criticism. The answers were revealing. Farzana Contractor was honest enough to say that she never criticises a restaurant, she reviews, she justified this as being Busy Bee's philosophy. Rashmi Uday Singh took the view that food criticism should be along the lines of the Michelin guides, which would involve going to a restaurant on at least five occasions before writing a critical review. Vikram Doctor and myself dissented from this, Vikram saying that he can sometimes access the quality of a restaurant by the manner in which the table is laid. I was of the view that there are very few restaurants in Mumbai, for example, which require serious reviewing which would necessitate repeated visits, there is insufficient depth in the menus. This experience left me wondering whether serious food reviewing was something that food journalists really aspired to, as there is a general sense of politeness about what restaurants churn out, and aggressive criticism is something very un-Indian.

Clearly, this has to change, as criticism is essential to benchmark restaurants and to reward those chefs who are innovative, who have technique and can curate a menu of quality. Otherwise, the restaurant scene will remain dismal and uninspiring. Critiquing is something which must be seen as positive rather than negative. This view is further supported by the manner in which restaurants of supposedly high quality charge. There are a number of standalone restaurants today that purport to be in the fine dining category, boast the use of imported ingredients and sometimes, imported chefs with distinguished provenance. These restaurants should also be subject to the most rigorous tests on whether they match up to what they advertise. All manner of fancy terms are used on the menu to describe the dish, and unless one has had experience of what that dish purports to be, it is not easy to make an informed review. For example, dishes like chermoula prawns (which is a Moroccan marinade), a chocolate ganache or a chicken mole are routinely shown on menus which, in many cases, bewilder customers who have no experience of what they may be ordering. This is where a critic can play a positive role.

Much has been written about the famous New York food editor, Craig Claiborne, who introduced the American public to ingredients we now take for granted, such as rocket (the Americans call it arugula), pesto and oriental sauces, such as nuoc mam. This is the extraordinary role a great restaurant critic will play — opening up horizons of gastronomy, ingredients and techniques.

Abroad, the business of critiquing is taken very seriously; food critics have the capacity of making or breaking restaurants. In the US, and the UK, it is not just the established restaurant critics like Ruth Reichel, Charles Campion, AA Gil, who count, but a growing army of bloggers who have local knowledge and who are taken seriously when it comes to booking restaurants. We saw an example of this in that somewhat overrated film The Chef, where the food critic pilloried the restaurant and the chef's reputation to the extent that he left to set up a food truck. The very same food critic went to his food truck and he was redeemed as he had gone back to his roots. It was all very folksy and convenient. Even in the recent film The 100 Foot Journey, the story of a young Indian chef who makes it big in the Michelin ratings, the matter of the restaurant retaining its Michelin star, was critical.

However, the Michelin method of assessment is so opaque that it is difficult to go by what is assessed. I recall going to Bologna, the stomach of Italy, and finding that the Michelin star restaurants were the most disappointing as they served an excessively French-ified cuisine, remote from local roots. It is relevant that Indian cuisine only appeared on the Michelin radar when an Englishman was appointed as an inspector about 15 years ago and promptly gave a one star to restaurants like the Tamarind (Atul Kochar) and to Rasoi (Vineet Bhatia), in London — something unprecedented in the history of Michelin guides. In India, for example, there are no Michelin star restaurants, not because of the quality of the restaurants, but because Michelin does not cover India.

One of my favourite stories of how negatively food critics can conduct themselves is that of Michael Winner. Winner was a successful film director who became a rather controversial food critic in England. Being taken apart by Winner was not a pleasant sight, and he had a fearsome reputation. He was visiting one of his favourite restaurants, The Ivy, more famous for people watching than for its food. He wanted a table by the window which was occupied by someone else. The maître d' listened to his request that the persons occupying that table should be moved, but very firmly insisting that there was another table available and that he should not move the other guests. Winner responded, stating in an outraged manner, "Do you know who I am?" The maître d', not missing a beat, turned to the entire restaurant saying loudly that "there is man here who does not know who he is, can anyone help?" Mr Winner was most deflated. This is something that a good food critic should avoid: it is easy to throw your weight about in an industry which has the highest mortality rate in the world; more restaurants close down in the first year than in any other business.

Ruth Reichel, the famous American critic, unlike Winner, is someone who takes great care to avoid being recognised, and her book Garlic and Sapphires: the secret life of a critic in disguise bears testimony to the length she would go to, to visit a restaurant without revealing her identity. This is the other extreme.

What is happening now, and possibly for the best, is that restaurant criticism is being diffused because of the rise of food bloggers. Ruth Reichel herself, along with a number of established food critics, has an active blog.

Twitter has introduced a new dimension in that it offers a rating of the critics. In the UK, for example, the top ten most followed UK critics are on Twitter, two of the most popular being Grace Dent and Zoey Williams.

A further development is Samir Aurora's Glam Media guide, which has a whole constellation of top food critics and food editors in an international publication, covering the 100 best restaurants worldwide. This publication deals with innovative menus, lays great stress on ambience and service and covers most of the known world. It depends on local knowledge and writers of reputation. Perhaps this is where restaurant criticism is increasingly going to gravitate. Food is becoming a lifestyle issue like travel and fashion, in a way that the great cuisines of the past were not. Presentation, innovation and ambience are far more important now than ever before. So as restaurants upscale their glam quotient, so the critics will have to take much more into account than merely the taste of food.

Famous Food Critics
François Simon (France)
AA Gil (UK)
Leo Schofield (Australia)
Alan Richman (USA)
Jonathan Gold (USA)