THE TIRE MAN COMETH
The mysterious Michelin inspectors came and went from Orlando, leaving stars and recommendations in their wake. Everybody loves a pat on the back, but how much does the Guide really matter? BY FAIYA Z KARA
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he Michelin Guide and its star rating system evoke a deep-seated reverence among chefs, restaurateurs and food lovers across the planet. Their respect is aimed at Michelin’s anonymous band of “inspectors,” charged with visiting and objectively rating restaurants from zero to three stars based on five criteria: quality of products; mastery of flavor and cooking techniques; the personality of the chef represented in the dining experience; harmony of the flavors; and consistency between inspectors’ visits. Said inspectors dine at restaurants on Michelin’s dime and have seemingly no conflicts of interest with the restaurants they visit. Never mind that Florida’s tourist boards collectively paid Michelin more than $1.5 million (as reported by the Miami Herald) to bring their restaurant inspectors to the Sunshine State. Fact is, Michelin stars translate to tourist dollars, and their reach has become increasingly global. It’s why the guide is gospel for jet-setting gastronauts bent on seeking out finer dining establishments around the world, and why a star can earn a restaurant unprecedented prestige, not to mention an influx of cash. Does Michelin matter? But in an era of internet democratization, does the Michelin Guide really matter? Michelin inspectors, after all, aren’t the only arbiters of taste. There are influencers on Instagram, YouTube and TikTok; “experts” who clickityclack on subReddits, as well as crowdsourced sites like Yelp and TripAdvisor; and more who promote and market restaurants in the food blogosphere. There are organizations like the James Beard Foundation and the World’s 50 Best Restaurants, dedicated to showcasing the most noteworthy restaurants in the biz, though both have certainly seen their fair share of controversy around inclusion, propping up bad players and Eurocentricity. Many legacy media outlets, including Orlando Weekly, still employ critics tasked with steering people toward good restaurants and away from subpar ones, while newer media outlets like Eater are a go-to source on where to dine in major metropolitan areas. So, it begs the question: Is the Michelin Guide necessary? The opinions of chefs and food professionals seem to run the gamut. “We don’t need a guide, especially in the age of social media,” said chef-owner Mark Berdin of Kadence before the announcement ceremony. “If you make great food consistently, people will come to your restaurant consistently.” (Kadence received a Michelin star.) Joe Yardley, who cooked at Michelin-starred Agern in New York City as chef de cuisine before opening Rebellion Wine Bar in Cocoa last year, feels that if Michelin is going to build a presence in the United States, it’s important they 16
visit Florida. “I think anything that brings awareness and business to restaurants in Florida has to be seen as positive. As far as whether we need the guide, it’s always nice to be recognized, but only places trying to show off or express dominance in the marketplace truly need it.” “It’s a pay-for-play situation,” said Knife & Spoon’s John Tesar about the taxpayer dollars used to bring the Michelin Guide to Florida. “Our business loves adulation, but there is no truth in food anymore. Only politics, popularity and pandering.” It was a blunt, if conflicted, declaration by the five-time James Beard Award nominee, who admitted he relished the thought of his restaurant receiving a Michelin star. (Knife & Spoon received a Michelin star.) Others, like chef-owner Bryce Bonsack of Michelin contender Rocca in Tampa, welcome the Michelin Guide, saying it’s necessary to legitimize the state’s dining landscape. “Never before in the history of Florida has there been more anticipation and conversation about our restaurant scene. Modern food journalism has been trending towards less restaurant criticism, or reviews with no stars or ratings given, and I think that trend is generally hurtful to restaurants and chefs. People like to discuss who got what and what they think a restaurant should get, and stars and ratings facilitate that.” The star system But there’s a reason why stars and numeric rating systems have quickly faded from restaurant criticism. Stars can offer a generalized snapshot of a restaurant’s worth and value, especially to the attention deprived, but they’re all too often reductive. In CBC News’ “Front Burner” podcast, food writer and former Toronto Star restaurant critic Corey Mintz took issue with the arbitrary classism of doling out stars. “There’s never a problem with more people making suggestions of where to eat, that’s always helpful,” said Mintz. “I think it’s the star system and the pressure it puts on people, particularly in the Yelp and social media ‘5-stars-or-it’sworthless’ era.” The pressure of maintaining a Michelin star, or the risk of losing one, is believed to be the primary reason why French chef Bernard Loiseau, of 3–Michelin star–rated La Côte d’Or in Burgundy, France, took his own life in 2003, and why Benoît Violier, the French-born chef of Restaurant de l’Hôtel de Ville in Crissier, Switzerland, did the same in 2016. Several others have renounced their stars or requested to be omitted from the Michelin Guide, because of the pressure maintaining a star can place on a restaurant’s staff and inner workings. British chef Marco Pierre White went so far as to ban Michelin inspectors from his restaurant in Singapore. “Eater got rid of its star rating system last year,” said Mintz, “the San Francisco Chronicle did it a couple of years ago, L.A. Times 10 years ago and, particularly during the pandemic,
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a lot of newspapers that still did a star system suspended it because they recognized restaurants are going through the hardest time ever. So it’s particularly antiquated for Michelin to come along with the star system as if the hospitality world hasn’t been underwater for the last two years.” “Readers will have to work a little harder to grapple with the text of a review now,” wrote Eater’s chief critic, Ryan Sutton, “and that’s a good thing, because they won’t be able to rely on the crutch of a star and all its baggage, ranging from empty authority (that’s you, Michelin) to veiled objectivity to false accessibility. I’ve put a lot of thought into my starred ratings over the years, but I’m certain they were one of the most arbitrary parts of my job. I’m glad I won’t be using them anymore.” Out of touch? Since 1926, the Michelin Guide has promoted automotive tourism by bestowing restaurants that warranted a stop with stars. A 1-star restaurant is deemed to have “high quality cooking” and is “worth a stop”; a 2-star has “excellent cooking” and is “worth a detour”; and a 3-star restaurant offers “exceptional cuisine worth a special journey.” Since 1997, “good quality, good value restaurants” have been awarded a Bib Gourmand. These are typically handed out to places where two courses and a glass of wine or dessert costs no more than $40. In recent years, however, the Michelin Guide has faced increased scrutiny over its judging criteria, in which the focus is placed on food and cooking techniques while issues of equity, race, labor, culture and health go unchecked. In an op-ed in the Globe & Mail, noted Toronto chef and restaurateur Jen Agg was highly critical of Michelin’s star rating system and its role in perpetuating a caustic mindset in restaurants. “If you were to work in [a restaurant] that tries to win ‘best of’ lists like Michelin, too often you’d find a toxic culture — places where they focus on hospitality and being a ‘house of yes’ to the diners, yet say no to reasonable requests from employees, such as asking that they not be sexually harassed on the job, or wanting to, y’know, be paid for all their hours worked. Of course, Michelin doesn’t pay attention to all that — if they did, a lot of places would be disqualified.” “They do not consider labor a part of their adjudication,” said Mintz on the “Front Burner” podcast. “The pandemic and the Great Resignation has been an opportunity for restaurants to rethink how they can operate in a way that values everyone, whereas the Michelin Star Guide is a return to that old-school way of thinking — it’s an elitist system that rewards exactly the kind of behavior that needs to change in the restaurant industry.” Agg concurs. Chefs are overwhelmingly excited about the Michelin Guide, which, she writes, says a lot about the change that hasn’t happened in the industry. “To hold on so lovingly to something so rooted in oldschool kitchen hierarchy and the kinds of restaurants that mete out real punishments for lack of compliance or failure to perform under immense pressure is the microcosm of why change doesn’t happen. This is an awards system that is so tangled up in the lifting-up of white men with access to capital that even when it throws a bone at a street-food restaurant, it feels very much like that: scraps.” So it’s not surprising that Agg has repeatedly stated that if one of her restaurants were to win a Michelin star, she would return it. Then there’s the issue of transparency. Michelin is tight-lipped about the financial deals hammered out with governmental bodies, like the one with Florida’s tourist boards. “That hasn’t stopped persistent reporters from poking holes in the guide’s carefully cultivated image of editorial independence,” writes Eater’s Brenna Houck. “Can the guide
