At the risk of swimming in waters I would rather stay out of, I have to say that this post rubbed me the wrong way, just as it did certain other individuals. I have a friend who used to be a fanatic about high end music equipment. He says he gave it up when he realized that he was listening to the system, rather than the music. I would contrast that with my father-in-law, a true lover of classical music who listened to it on low fidelity cassette tapes, some of which he recorded off the radio using cheap tape systems, and who got genuine and, dare I say, authentic pleasure from it. This is not to deny the aesthetic pleasure you can receive from listening to fine music (or dining on fine food) in an optimal environment, but making the environment the primary criterion (or even a necessary condition) seems to me to put the cart before the horse.
And, swimming further from shore, I also have to say that I like Pete Wells’s reviews. I would suggest that most of the people on this board are not the target audience, I think his reviews are squarely aimed at the millennials. I don’t know whether he is successful in that regard, my kids and their friends would have to answer that. But I find him humorous, entertaining, and I do think I get a sense of whether or not I would like the restaurant he is reviewing. It’s true that they don’t hew to the standards set by some of his predecessors, but for better or worse times have changed. For the Times to maintain the style and standards of the past is about as likely to succeed as a restaurant that wants to appeal to a broad range of people but insists on men wearing dinner jackets.
Whatever you think of Mr. Wells, I suspect that any suspicion that the Times is not happy with him is misguided. Newsday, the local Long Island rag, had an article about the Per Se review. The Guy Fieri piece went viral. As far as I can tell, he’s generating clicks. And, like it or not, that’s not only what matters, it’s a matter of life and death for the “paper”.
The funny part about this, Bill, is that I’ve spent plenty of time in the South. Not quite as much as you, perhaps, but then again, your brief period of glory in a real city before retreating to the comfort of bigfishinlittlepondville (could anyone ever imagine you anywhere else!?) wasn’t quite as long as my 30 years here. I think anyone asserting that impoverished southerners - or poor people anywhere - eat well is completely deluded.
I don’t really think there’s much else to say. Your rhetoric is ugly, and god help you if it’s reflective of who you are, rather than just trolling on the internet for the yucks. There’s nothing sadder than a lawyer who high-fives himself about the “logical destruction” he thinks he’s inflicted on his adversaries.
Hypothetically, if that’s the best available option at the time, yes. And I’ll enjoy it for what it is, not what it could be. And who knows, maybe I’ll learn something drinking it that way that I wouldn’t learn by drinking it from a Zalto. (Not that I get to drink that much good burgundy).
This is a bit of a digression, but here I go. I think Pete Wells is somewhat of a joke. Not as bad as Sifton, but bad nonetheless. To begin, what does it mean that Pete Wells’s writing is “squarely aimed at the millennials?” I’m a so-called “millennial.” Obviously I can’t speak for my generation at all, but I can tell you that my peers across the country (from college and law school and past jobs and cities, not from wine boards) are more interested in, and more willing to spend big money on, high-end dining than one might suspect. (Obviously we are not representative of the population as a whole. But when we talk about Per Se, no one is talking about the population as a whole. The discussion is about those who conceivably would frequent these sorts of places.) In any event, even “millennial” friends of mine who are more casual – who wouldn’t come within 100 miles of arguing about food and wine on the Internet, and can’t quote the resumes of top chefs – go out of their way to hit Noma or Arpege or Alinea or Mugaritz. I know loads of “millennials” who wouldn’t think of buying a BMW, and who still have 1-BR apartments, but have no issue dropping $300/person on a meal.
What’s my point? I think that, if Pete Wells is truly writing for “millennials,” he’s not giving us enough credit, and he’s hurting his own credibility. In the past 10 years or so, America has developed a heightened level of appreciation for food. And I dare say that the younger generations are more knowledgeable about, and more critically minded about, food than just about any other generation before us. (Apologies for the gross generalizations, but then again, that’s what we do here…)
So I guess my criticism of Pete Wells, as a “millennial,” is that he’s too value-focused, too cutesy, and lacks any broader perspective about much of anything at all. He has too much of a desire to “go viral” instead of telling us what are really the important restaurants in NY. I’ve harped on this forever, and I may be alone on an island, but I really wish the NYT would take food more seriously and with more perspective. NY styles itself as one of the the world’s preeminent dining destinations. But I feel like Pete Wells and many of those before him offer essentially zero perspective regarding how the NY places, especially the top NY places, fit into the larger dining ecosystem. When I read about Per Se, I want to know not only whether its standards have gone downhill, but also about how it compares with the best that SF/Chi/Paris/London have to offer. I hate that I have to turn to self-important “bloggers” (many of whom are themselves millennials) to get any real international (or even any national) perspective, and real analytical treatment of trends in dining, fine or otherwise. In this regard, even the Post’s Tom Sietsema has far outpaced the NYT, in the sense that he traveled throughout the US to try to get some perspective. I know the NYT has done similar things, but it does not do them enough.
So to me, the issue is not about whether “fine dining” is dying, or whether “millennials” are drawn to “fast casual,” or anything else of that ilk. The only issue is that people now want something different out of fine dining–and are if anything more demanding. People demand better food, more interesting food, with less pomp and circumstance, less formality, less overall bullshit and snottiness, but with the same sense of wonder, individualized attention, and impeccable service. And critically, they are willing to pay for it. I actually think (and hope) what you’ll see is pushback on both ends–against the Per Se/Daniel spots on the one hand (for being too formal, too much BS), and the Atera/Blanca/Brooklyn Fare Chef’s Table on the other hand (counter/hipster/standoffish in their own way). To me, some of the Bay Area places strike the best happy medium–e.g., Saison and Manresa have unique, chef-driven, out-of-this-world food, in a sufficiently grand atmosphere, with personalized service and more spaced out tables, but without the needless bullshit of places like Per Se and Daniel. As I think about it, Atelier Crenn and Coi do it pretty well too. I think the NY-area place that may strike the best balance in this regard is Blue Hill at Stone Barns, but of course that’s in large part due to the fact that it has more space. Within Manhattan, EMP used to strike a good balance but it has gotten out of whack over the years.
(I say all this with the caveat that Per Se, even though it’s not the type of dining I enjoy most, was probably a top-10 meal for me a few years back. I think restaurants like Per Se should have a place in the dining firmament, and I will be sad if they are extinguished completely–something I think is unlikely for various reasons.)
Rather than offer my opinions as criticisms, I’ll state them as positive assertions:
Lower income people often eat wonderful food in the South. It’s the middle class that until recently universally ate like shit. Anybody who has had the opportunity to eat at any of (1) a potluck at a black church, (2) a real southern barbecue, (3) a fresh catfish fry, (4) any one of 10,000 roadside lunch places that serves housemade brunswick stew (family recipe), fried okra, collard greens, country ham biscuits, fried chicken, creamed corn, grits, peanut soup, etc., (5) gumbo, or (6) [a nearly infinite list of examples] in the rural South either agrees with me or is (a) an idiot, or (b) a prejudiced asshole. IMHO. Setting aside home cooking (where the real value and often the best quality can be found in the South), I’d rather eat lunch on $10 or less in the rural South than anywhere else in the United States.
I absolutely side with those who recognize that environment/atmosphere, service, and presentation matter A LOT. On this, there’s plenty of science to back me up. Sorry, that Grand Cru Burgundy doesn’t taste the same out of a Mason Jar. In fact, you’ll almost certainly only think it’s special at all if someone tells you first that it’s Grand Cru Burgundy. That’s not to say that “fine dining” in the model of the French temples of gastronomy is necessary or even ideal (although I tend to enjoy the experience every once in awhile). But eating is never just about the food. Which for me, come to think of it, is probably highly relevant to opinion #1.
My wife and I had a great time at Per Se this past September. It was our anniversary, and we wanted to like it. Was it worth the money on a relative basis? No way. Were there aspects that felt a bit tired/derivative of/identical to dishes that have been served at the French Laundry for almost 20 years? Absolutely. Did we find the various up-charges a bit obnoxious given the base price? Yep. But we still thought the view was incredible, the service was solid and relatively warm, and the food was indeed delicious. I’d rather eat at La Coccinella in Bill K.'s neighborhood (my wife and my all-time favorite meal together), but with limited time and two small kids, heading to NYC for a weekend at eating at Per Se and a mix of high and low end Manhattan classics ends up being cheaper.
Ryan, you make many good points. One quibble. I said Pete Wells is targeting millennials, not writing for them. There’s a subtle difference. Just as when the media was targeting my generation in the 60’s and 70’s, I’m sure that many attempts will come off as inauthentic. Some will be effective, and some not, time will tell who lands where. I do apologize for using the “m” word. You’re obviously not a fan of it, and neither am I, but I have not yet found a better alternative.
And, combining the topic of good food writing with Jay’s discussion on the good food that can be found in the south, I highly recommend Calvin Trillin’s “Alice Let’s Eat”, and the following two books in what he refers to as the “Tummy Trilogy”. He wrote this at a time when barbecue was a localized, regional phenomenon, and it is an eloquent, thoughtful, and very funny discussion of what is authentic, and inauthentic, in American food.
Jay, just in case I have any credibility left to salvage, I am not arguing that Grand Cru Burgundy tastes the same out of a Mason Jar, or even that proper glassware is relatively unimportant. I do believe that it can taste like something special in that Mason Jar made of straw, and if that were the only option I would certainly give it a go. Taking the straw man argument to the other extreme, are we going to argue that no one could truly appreciate fine Burgundy until Zalto came along?
What I am arguing against is the fetishization of the fine dining experience, to the point that one can’t really enjoy fine food if everything else isn’t perfect.
Science shows this to be true, though. Your brain needs to be “primed” with context to appreciate something at the highest level. That’s why all this seemingly arcane routine has originated independently in almost every art form. Think of how museums and galleries signify that you are Looking at Serious Art with their architecture and interior design. Would you notice a painting was a great painting if it was on the wall of your hotel room at a Marriott? Same with music and the necessary signifying of concerts - see eg the Joshua Bell story.
If good food and bad food are served in the exact same environment, it has the effect of making it much harder to notice and appreciate good food. Not impossible - but harder. Just like you might realize you’re drinking DRC out of that jar, but without your brain primed to pay attention, you might confuse it for La Crema Pinot.
He mentioned that his experiences even more recently than that were at a 4 star level and it was only during this recent reviewing cycle that he noted the decline. It wouldn’t be the first great restaurant that started coasting on its reputation.
I’ve never been (nor had any real interest in going) so I can’t comment on the accuracy of the review.
Loved my meal at the French Laundry many years ago though even there not all the dishes were at the same stellar level. But I still remember the Oysters and Pearl and the fennel chips.
Fine dining is not the only place to appreciate brilliant food. But each food has its own signifiers. If you were to be given barbecue at Per Se, you’re less likely to be blown away by it than if you were handed it in a roadside shack in North Carolina. If you were given a lobster in a Capitale Grille in St. Louis, you’re less likely to think its life-changing than if you eat the same lobster at pound in Downeast Maine.
Label bias doesn’t just start and stop with wine, but the tricky part with food is that there’s no such thing as blind tasting. The experience of tasting food in a setting that signifies to your brain that it should pay attention to what it’s putting in its mouth is inherent to eating.
If you think you’re immune from this, (a) you’re not and (b) test your hypothesis with something you CAN blind yourself to context, like wine, and see how well you do.
I can really relate to this. Back in the day (30 yrs ago) I had a yuuuge record collection. I had decent, but not exotic equipment. I loved this so much, and I became the needy geek I am today. Others had terrifically high-end, super -expensive components, but only 20 LPs. Perhaps they were more info the sound than the music? I also developed more of a taste for historic performances. Don’t need such luxury equipment if the recording is from 1946.
Anyway, that struck a chord, and I recently lost a father in law who was just as described.
As to the most expensive restaurants in the world, I can add nothing.
David, I take it that you have not seen the movie “7 1/2 Weeks”?
I am not sure that I have ever seen anyone who overthinks food and wine more than our Mr. Zylberberg, gets it wrong most of the time, and in the final analysis, apparently does not enjoy more than 10% of what goes in his mouth. Food and wine are not the enemy, David. They cannot be categorized and locked up in little boxes in one’s head, as you invariably do. They are meant to give sustenance and pleasure. When you grow up, you will come to realize that.
(Ah, like shooting fish in a barrel. Too bad we are having peel-and-eat shrimp tonight.)
