Reviewing Restaurants
by Richard J Scholem
(Restaurant & Food Writer for the Long Island Section of THE NEW YORK TIMES)
Reprinted from Great Restaurants of
Long Island Magazine, 1997

When Great Restaurants Magazine asked me to write an article about what it's like to be a critic and review restaurants for THE NEW YORK TIMES, I thought, "Can I do this?", for the truth is, a restaurant critic is a scout, a thief, a host, a spy, a judge, and at times, a tyrant. Additionally, will I reveal trade secrets by providing answers to the six questions reviewers hear most often: Do the restaurants know who you are? Are you ever discovered? Do you use your own name to make reservations? Do you go to each restaurant more than once? How do you select restaurants to review? What do you look for in evaluating a restaurant?

The task is a delicate one: answering those questions and explaining our roles as scouts and thieves etc. without blowing our cover so completely that the anonymity we need to do the job will be shattered. The conclusion? Yes, it can be done - tell the truth, but not quite the whole truth.

The restaurant critics who review for daily newspapers constantly search for new restaurants, for unusual ones, for places making major changes and even for established spots celebrating milestone anniversaries. Leads and tips come by phone and mail from press releases, public relations representatives, newspaper ads, reader's letters and calls, from personally scouting the neighborhood, from a network of acquaintances whose palates we respect and most of all from asking everybody we meet about new and favorite restaurants. All unsolicited suggestions have to be screened (is this letter legit or from the owner's brother-in-law?).
A preliminary foray is then in order to see the restaurant, perhaps to have lunch, obtain a paper menu and wine list if they are available or snatch a permanent one if they are not. Dinner reservations are made using a long list of ever changing fictitious names. Critic's families must be informed about the name-of-the-week so when a restaurant calls to confirm the Smith's reservation, everyone knows they are the ‘Smith's.' Upon entering a restaurant, an often heard question uttered by a panicky participant in this subterfuge is "Who are we tonight?"

Despite elaborate precautions like credit cards with fictitious names, no mention of the "R" word (review) or the reviewers last name and different dining companions on each of the critic's visits, security is not perfect. Reviewers are probably recognized a bit more than they realize (especially on 2nd and 3rd visits), but far less than restauranteurs claim. How? An observant waiter notices that every dish ordered is different and every one (usually four or five diners) is sharing every dish. A sharp parking lot attendant sees NYP (New York Press) license plates and wonders. A friend of the reviewer innocently calls across the dining room, "Hello, Dick Scholem", or "Oh, there's Joanne Starkey." A relative of the reviewer forgets and gives the parking attendant the real family name. Then there are acquaintances who make themselves heroes at the restaurant by fingering the reviewer. We are told that there are even restaurants who have posted the pictures of reviewers on the inside of their kitchen doors with an offer of $50.00 to any waiter who recognizes them.

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Despite such hazards and breakdowns, restaurants very rarely know reviewers are present. That's because the critics keep an extremely low profile, make no comments, ask for no special orders and always tell the maitre d' that everything is fine, (even though it might not be). Aggressive guests who request water and bread basket refills probably will not be invited back because the reviewer wants to see if they will be refilled automatically. Nonsharers, that is people who won't pass their dishes to be sampled, will meet a similar fate, as will those who insist on changes in dishes on the menu (‘leave out the garlic'). So too will those who insist on ordering a steak at a Chinese restaurant or are out to prove they know more than the critic (‘you thought that was good') or sulk when they can't order a dish (‘I wanted the rack of lamb') because it was sampled on a first visit.

The evaluation of a restaurant begins with the first phone call to make a reservation and doesn't end until the check is paid and the critic has departed. Did that check come promptly? Was the person who took the reservation helpful or haughty? Upon entering were we greeted promptly and pleasantly or as strangers, while regulars were warmly welcomed? Was our reservation honored with a waiting table or did we have to wait despite a reservation? Once seated did the server appear within a reasonable time to take the drink order and offer menus? Was the restaurant clean or shabby? Were we able to speak to one another or did the noise level force us to shout?

The bread basket contains the first food of the evening. It is always an important test of the restaurant's commitment. Is it filled with mass produced, mundane, cottony, commercial bakery products or with interesting breads that display verve, flair and imagination? Is that bread basket refilled when it's empty? Similarly, are water glasses automatically refilled and silverware replaced? When the food arrives, does the server know who ordered what, or auction off the plates as in "who gets the turnips?" Is everyone at the table served simultaneously or is one diner forgotten? Are the dishes as they were described on the menu or have unannounced substitutions been made and accompaniments been omitted? Is the meat described by the menu as grilled, actually sauteed? Does the big flowery description turn out to be a very ordinary garden variety dish? Are those tasteless California olives instead of the real thing in the so-called Greek salad? Is the steak that was ordered medium rare actually medium or worse yet, grey or well done? Have the BBQ ribs that were supposedly "slowly cooked and smoked over many hours" actually been steamed and had BBQ sauce slathered on them before being plunked on a grill for a few minutes? One of the tests is: does the meat fall off the bone or must you use your teeth to pull it off?

But flavor is the all important consideration. Does this dish taste as it should? Are all the required ingredients in it? Has the seasoning been added with a knowing hand? Does it enhance the dish or overwhelm it? Are the accompaniments the same on every plate or are they a varied compliment to each meat or fish they accompany?

If the restaurant bills itself as creative, do its creations make sense, are they exciting, cutting edge and imaginative or just an obviously contrived effort to be different? And if the restaurant is a traditional spot, are the dishes true to that tradition? Do they taste like the classics that have set the standards over many years?

And how does the food at the restaurant compare with other local restaurants?

Finally there is the inevitable seventh question, how do you stay so thin? The answer is, with great difficulty: by eating simply and moderately at home, running, swimming and biking almost daily, by eating small quantities at restaurants that are mediocre or worse, by withdrawing from the clean plate club and asking for doggie bags, by scheduling reviews of seafood, vegetarian and Asian restaurants and by not scheduling three ‘big deal' Italian restaurants in a row. In other words, by working as hard to stay thin as to stay anonymous.

Reprinted from Great Restaurants of
Long Island Magazine, 1997

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