'Marie Clairegate', or how some restaurant reviewers want their meal and eat it

Photo courtesy of Aude Baron/Resto-de-Paris.com

Restaurant reviewers are like politicians in a way. We all 'know' that some of them are dishonest but it's not very often that we actually see proof of it. And that is why I was most pleased to come across this very revealing article in the Le Plus section of the Nouvel Observateur a few days ago. Written by Aude Baron, the section's Editor-in-Chief, it offers a few insider insights into how some French restaurant reviewers, including those from the well-known French women's monthly magazine Marie Claire, consider that blackmail and punishment are acceptable tools when it comes to getting a free meal in return for a good review.

But Marie Claire's strong-arm tactics were revealed for all to see when details of an email exchange earlier this month between Jean-Paul Lubot, the delegate general director of the Marie Claire press group, and Parisian restaurant owner Pierre Jancou found their way onto the 'Food Intelligence' blog.

Lubot loftily announced via his staff in his initial contact email that Jancou's restaurant, 'Vivant', had been "selected" to be featured in Marie Claire's 'Le Paris de Jean-Paul Lubot' column, and he asked if Jancou would "invite him to dinner", adding that he would be "accompanied."

He soon learned that he had bitten off more than he could chew. Jancou was having none of it and he replied in bitingly terse terms to say that never in his 24-year career in the restaurant business had he ever invited a journalist to one of his restaurants, and that he considered Lubot's way of going about his business to be "shady and fraudulent."

Lobot refused to take no for an answer however, and declared in his next email that for a restaurant reviewer to get invited by the patron to a restaurant he was reviewing was "extremely common practice."

Not chez Jancou it isn't. He refused again. Lubot's reaction?

He quite simply made sure that 'Vivant' was taken off Marie Claire's recommended restaurant list and he sent a petulantly temper tantrum email in which he asserted that "you've got no idea have you, and all you have done is to confirm the stinginess for which you are well known in the business." Charming n'est-ce pas?

Baron also writes that some reviewers openly identify themselves as such when they get to a restaurant, which of course often earns them special attention and, who knows, maybe a free meal too. She has even seen amply wined-and-dined reviewers strike a deal with restaurant owners after their meal by using the arm-twisting "if you don't make me pay I'll write about you, and if you do make me pay I'll forget you forever" tactic.

Yet another scam is that of reviewers making restaurants pay for the privilege of placing the much-sought-after (by some less scrupulous restaurant owners) 'Recommended by such-and-such a magazine/restaurant guide" stickers in their front windows, next to those of the 'we accept American Express cards' ilk.

All of these 'reviewing' methods are, of course, scandalous, and I know that a well-known review booklet here in Lyon also uses dubious methods in its restaurant ratings.

This kind of news casts a shadow over the whole of the restaurant review business in Paris and elsewhere (and yes, it is a business.) After all, who, in the light of all this, can be sure, if ever they were before, that they are reading an honest review which will help them choose where to eat? Who are the honest reviewers and who are the bad guys? And who are those restaurant owners who pay the meals of their reviewers? We won't know of course, unless their dealings become public knowledge.

While we're waiting for a more reliable system to be devised and adhered to (and that's going to be difficult) we at least know that Aude Baron has had the honest courage to denounce Marie Claire's dubious practices, and she kindly sent me some recommendations of her own of restaurant reviewers, journalists, blogs and other sources she trusts. She also runs a well-read blog on restaurants in Paris herself, Resto-de-Paris.com.

Here's her selection.

Coup de Fourchette
Chroniques du Plaisir
Chrisoscope
MrLung
and
Presque Moi

She also recommends Figaro's 'Sortir à Paris' section and their journalists Emmanuel Rubin and François Simon as well as l'Express' 'Et Toque' and 'La Soif du Miam' with their articles by Anne-Laure Pham and François Regis Gaudry.

And I have a recommendation of my own too. I haven't ever eaten there but I'll gladly visit Pierre Jancou's 'Vivant' the next time I'm up in Paris, because any owner who has the guts to resist press behemoths like Marie Claire and their 'free meal ticket' approach to reviewing deserves support and a healthy clientèle. 'Vivant', 43, rue des Petites-Écuries, Paris 10th. 0142464355.

Bon appetit !

Eating à-la-française is not just about food

One of my preferred eateries here in Lyon

Elegantly-laid tables, fine wines, beautifully prepared dishes. These are just a few of the many images that are conjured up when discussing what eating in France is like, but the reality is somewhat different. Contrary to widely-held views, eating here is not first and foremost about enjoying the food. It’s about enjoying the people who sit down to eat it.

I’m writing this entry in response to a commenter on The Guardian who suggested that I write about French cheeses, of which he is a fan. Having thought about it for a while though, all my ideas for this subject seemed to revolve around the usual kind of gushing praise that British and other newspapers heap upon French food in their ‘Food & Drink’ sections. 

Articles on cheese in these papers often talk about bringing a fine selection of cheeses out of the fridge on time and laying them lovingly onto elegant cheese platters and selecting four of five excellent bottles, one for each cheese, and at least two different breads, before going on to relate the exquisite sensations to be enjoyed whilst eating and drinking each cheese and wine etcetera. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do that, so I hope the commenter concerned will understand why and forgive me.

The majority of French people do know how to select and serve cheese of course, and they also know how to eat correctly in good restaurants and prepare finely-tuned cuisine, but it isn’t what many of them prefer to do, which is to burn the good etiquette book and chuck it out the window.

A first social invitation to eat often involves a more-or-less formal table. Your host may even serve your wine, your food is served for you, and in no circumstances do you help in any way. You’re the guest after all. But if all goes well and everyone enjoys each other’s company, subtle changes to the conduct of subsequent meals together will occur.

You may begin to hear things like “how about if I bring the serving bowls in and we all help ourselves?” and your host may well hold his empty glass out and ask you to fill it because the bottle is nearer to you and he can’t reach it. Politics and/or religion may begin to creep into the conversation.

If this happens to you it’s a good bet that your company is appreciated and that your hosts would like to lighten up on the rules and become more relaxed and familiar with you. You should seize opportunities like this and help further them.

You will soon find yourself mopping up sauces with your bread and helping to clear the plates in preparation for the next dish. Bread connoisseurs who know each other smell bread from extremely close up to appreciate the aroma, and so shall you. 

Elbows will eventually be put on tables, and you won’t get a cheese plate anymore because, like everyone else, you’ll just clean a corner of your main dish plate with bread in which to place your cheese, cheese which you have cut with your own knife after wiping it on your bread. And if people are eating different desserts, they may well ask if they can “just have a little taste of yours” before dipping into it with their own spoon.

Now you’re getting somewhere. Conversation will become more incisive, ribald jokes will be told, and it’s now that you begin to realise what eating in France is all about, which is developing relationships and not showing off your impeccable table manners. What constitutes good table manners here can, and often does, vary according to who one is eating with. The food is important, sure, but the whole exercise is ultimately geared to enjoying the company of people whom one appreciates in a relaxed and unfettered manner.

In fact, some of the very best and most satisfying meals I’ve ever eaten in France happen when longstanding friends gather together and a couple of them, or I myself, have just been to the local market. So it’s roll-your-sleeves-up time and all the charcuterie and excellent cheeses are just plonked down in the centre of the kitchen table, still in their wrappers. Napkins are kitchen paper roll. Add a couple of good breads and a few bottles of local wine – fine wines would be out of place and inappropriate here - and it’s every man woman and child for him or herself. Banter and fun guaranteed. Heaven.

That’s what real eating à-la-française means to me. Eating for many French people is first and foremost a vehicle – an excuse even – for relaxed, informal and enjoyable social interaction. This is why the sooner the etiquette book gets burned the sooner everyone can start enjoying eating and each other. And that is precisely what art de vivre is all about in its day-to-day sense.