The Curmudgeon Chronicle -#197

THE CURMUDGEON CHRONICLE ©

AN IRREVERENT VIEW


Time Line: December 9, 2006
Date Line: Flemington New Jersey

There is a trap in the civilized world unknown to primitive man; the Restaurant with Stars. Like a tiger’s stripes the stars hide danger behind beauty, and woe to your wallet and digestion if you forget that.
Restaurant stars were invented by celebrity food critics, whose most honest reviews were given (at age ten) to mother’s peanut butter and banana sandwich.

Nevertheless, critics must eat too and therefore they fill a seven inch column with enough prose to prove that last week’s expense tab was legit. I admire prose that can turn a scallop into the Marilyn Monroe of mollusks. (The things those scallops are supposed to do to your tongue have made Madonna blush.) Once the prose is written, all that remains is to assign the stars.

The number of stars a restaurant gets has nothing to do with how the food tastes. Indeed some of the tests have been used as models for Middle East peace conferences. Star criteria range from platter to portion size ratios to points for the weirdest combination of ingredients. In the last analysis, snob appeal measured by cost and snootiness of the staff wins the most stars.

If the price for four scallops, blackened on the outside, raw on the inside and covered with peppery goop is at least $50.00 the chef is in line for a star. Two stars go to the chef who puts nothing else on the plate except a basil leaf. For three stars, charge the diner $5.00 for the basil leaf and describe it as picked in a locale unknown to geography.

Critics tell readers that the service is impeccable, and that the chef/ restaurateur will come to your table to visit. You are not told the reason he comes by is to see who is crazy enough to spend $50.00 for eighty-six cents worth of scallops. (He also has to make sure his daughter is not dating anyone in that family. No telling when genetic idiocy will surface. Better safe than sorry.)

On a recent visit to Chicago I picked up a magazine that highlights the 50 best chefs in the city and “Their secrets, obsessions, favorites and predictions.” Each chef was lionized and quoted on such secrets as the contents of his fridge at home, and his favorite meal. The meal favorites ranged from pizza and spaghetti (five chefs) to anything with French fries, a ham and cheese crepe and “anything that tastes good”. The dishes they were noted for in the article included none of those items, but were long on braised kohlrabi and apple cider nage. (If some one out there will tell me what nage is I will be very grateful.) Fridge contents were even less inspiring: one guy said he had nothing in his except condiments.

In the world of restaurant stars, Charlie Trotter is a kingly figure; known and lauded by critics everywhere. He has earned enough stars to be a galaxy all by himself. When asked to discuss what makes a great restaurant, his comment about wine and food pairing deserves repetition.

According to Chef Trotter, “Anybody who wouldn’t have a wine program is leaving so much money on the friggin’ table, your crazy! That’s where all the money is.”

We had room service send up a pizza and two cokes. Thanks for the tip Charlie.

H. S.