From the day in 1804 when the first restaurant guide, the "Almanach des Gourmands" was published, gastronomes, restaurateurs and chefs have had a mixed collection of love and hate reactions towards such publications. The most famous story told to demonstrate the enormous impact that such guides can have is probably that of the chef at the "Relais de Poquerolles" who is said to have committed suicide in 1958 when he lost his stars in the Michelin Guide. The story has such charm that nobody today seems very concerned about the fact that it has no basis whatever in reality

The first modern restaurant guide was that of the Michelin Tire Company. In 1900, recognizing the growing popularity of automobiles in Europe, Michelin published its first, free motorists guide to hotels and restaurants in France. In the earliest versions of the guide, concentration was not so much on restaurants as it was on lodgings, gas stations, repair shops and on giving lists of the kinds of practical information that might contribute to the success of a trip. Several years later, to encourage people to drive more, Michelin also sponsored Bibendum, a gastronomic column that appeared in several newspapers. For more than a decade, between 1930 and 1941, this column was written by Curnonsky, a critic so highly regarded that that a table was permanently set aside for him in more than fifty Parisian restaurants. Even today some of those restaurants still display a plaque over their "Curnonsky table".

The format of the Michelin guide has evolved over the years. Whereas the first annual issues had only about 20 pages, the 1996 edition has more than a thousand. The earliest guides were bound in blue, but since 1931 they have been bound in red; and unlike its earlier days, the guide now focuses entirely on restaurants and hotels, with not a word about garages, gas stations or public toilets. Even the system of rating with stars has not always been part of the guide and was first introduced in 1926 when the editors rewarded the best twenty restaurants in France by giving them a single star. Even though the editors decided in 1931 to use a system that would award from one to three stars, the first three star ratings were actually given only in 1951 (three in Paris and four in the rest of France).

Despite their enormous popularity and the respect they have earned, not everyone adores the Michelin Guide. Many (including this writer), for example, feel that Michelin is too slow to award stars and even slower in removing them. No one questioned the validity of the three star rating of "La Pyramide" at Vienne during the lifetime of owner-chef Fernand Point, but when Point died in 1955, the restaurant went downhill quickly. Even though La Pyramide deserved to lose one or two of its stars many years ago, Michelin, probably deciding to maintain a memorial to Point, refused, until just three years ago to take take away any of its stars.

Other objections to Michelin are that they are too stuffy; that they punish restaurateurs or chefs foolish enough to disagree publicly with them by taking away their stars; and that their recommendations are sometimes a year or two out of date. Readers also complain that the information given is too sparse, and does not give a true picture of what the restaurants being rated are really like. Even others complain that because Michelin relies so heavily on the use of symbols and abbreviations, the guide is difficult to read.

The first response to Michelin came about because of the efforts of Henri Gault and Christian Millau, both of whom were successful journalists at the newspaper "Paris Presse" where Gault wrote a restaurant column that was edited by Millau. In 1962 they expanded their efforts and published the "Guide Julliard to Paris". In 1969 they started their own monthly magazine, and in 1972 published the first edition of the "Guide Gault Millau" (which is correctly pronounced Go-Me-Oh). Their timing was perfect, coming just at the moment when people wanted to know more about restaurants than they could learn from Michelin. As food columnist Paul Levy wrote, "their detailed reports, their humor and irreverent (and sometimes even outrageous) style grabbed France by the stomach, and gave Michelin heartburn".

There are many differences between the two guides, not the least significant being the style in which they are presented. Michelin rates restaurants entirely on the basis of one to five crossed knives and forks (that represent the level of luxury of the establishment being reviewed), and on one to three stars (to describe the quality of the cuisine). No other comments are made whatever, except in the case of restaurants rated with one or more stars, and then two or three of the specialties of the chef are listed.

The fact that Gault Millau uses a more subtle rating scale that goes from 0 - 20 immediately endeared them to the hearts of Frenchmen, because this is the rating system used by every school and university in France. Because the ratings relate entirely to the quality of the cuisine, decor, welcome, atmosphere and service do not influence the scores, but are all commented on extensively within the reviews that appear for each restaurant. To complement and simplify the numerical scores, Gault Millau also awards from one to four toques (chefs' hats) as part of their rating system.

More important, however, is the fact that Gault-Milau is quicker to discover new talent and, in general, is more up to date than Michelin. Even though both Gault and Millau are now both retired, the guides continue under the editorship of Monique Pivot and there are now Gault Millau guides to practically everywhere. If Gault Millau has a problem it is that many feel that the accuracy and impartiality reflected in the guide to France are not always maintained in the guides to other countries.

How They Do It

It would be literally impossible for the editors of the Michelin Guides or the Gault Millau Guides to visit each of the more than 2,000 restaurants that are rated every year. Nor do they have to. In France alone, for example, it is known that Michelin employs more than 30 full time inspectors, and, even though Gault Millau refuses to divulge a specific number it is thought that they have about 40 staff members who visit the different restaurants to be reviewed. At least within France, the members of both staffs are bona fide gourmets and connoisseurs of fine wines who have undergone special training programs to ensure that they will each be rating restaurants according to the same criterion.

The men from Michelin (they have no women inspectors) arrive unannounced and eat, comparing what they find with last year's rating. To avoid identification, no one man appears in same place more than once every 8 years. While they are dining they make mental notes about the setting and decor, men's rooms and table linen. They are especially critical about the service. After he has finished his meal, the inspector introduces himself to the often horror-stricken owner or chef and asks to be shown around the kitchen. The guide receives several hundred thousand letters from readers every year, and if many complaints have been written about a restaurant, the inspector discusses them with the owner or chef, perhaps even making suggestions for improvements. Never, however, will the owner-chef know what his new rating is until the guide is actually published.

The Gault Millau inspectors work in much the same way. During the reign of Henri Gault, they were not so concerned with anonymity, Gault himself once observing that "any restaurateur in France who does not recognize me is either blind or dead". Gault himself also felt strongly that being anonymous is not all that important, because "there is simply a limit to the tricks that can be played on us". The current editor, however, disagrees, and anonymity is maintained wherever possible.

The Rating Systems

Michelin:

XXXXX luxury in the traditional style
XXXX top class comfort
XXX very comfortable
XX comfortable
X acceptably comfortable

*** Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey. Superb food, fine wines, faultless service, elegant surroundings. . One will pay accordingly.

** Excellent cooking, worth a detour. Specialties and wines of first class quality. This will be reflected in the price

* A very good restaurant in its category. The star indicates a good place to stop on your journey. Beware of comparing the star given to an expensive deluxe establishment to that of a simple restaurant where you can appreciate fine cuisine at a reasonable price.

Gault-Millau

4 toques = 19 or 19.5 = Extraordinary
3 toques = 17 or 18 = Excellent
2 toques = 15 or 16 = Very Good
1 toque = 13 or 14 = Good

Black toques denote traditional French cooking; red toques indicate inventive cuisine.

Other Major Guides

Many, including this writer feel that the Michelin Guides tend to be unreliable when rating restaurants outside of France, and even though Gault Millau can be relied on in Austria, Spain and the Benelux nations, they have not yet met those standards in America, Switzerland, England or Israel. In England, I most even strongly recommend Egon Ronay's eccentric but charming restaurant guides; in China, Hong Kong and other Far Eastern cities, the books of Harry Rolnik are highly reliable and in Italy, I recommend the series I Ristoranti de Veronelli by journalist Luigi Veronelli, as well as Sheila Hale's Guides to Venice, Florence and Tuscany. All of these guides are available in English and French.

In the United States the most popular restaurant guides are currently those in the Zagat Restaurant Surveys and those in theseries known as Epicurian Rendezvous. Despite their popularity, I find both problematic because neither relies on trained professionals for their evaluations. Zagat, which has guides to New York, Atlanta, Boston, Chicago, San Francisco, Washington, New Orleans and at least fifteen other cities, relies entirely on reports submitted by their readers. Even though readers are given standardized forms to fill out, there is no control over their methods of judgment or level of knowledge. What this means, basically is that the actual ratings, which are compiled as an average of all the reports received, are more a "popularity contest" than an educated judgment or evaluation.

Although it is commendable that nearly 8,500 people participated in the New York City sample, for example, many of their comments are extremely idiosynchratic and have no true relationship to the quality of the food or service they received. That the 15 restaurants rated highest for the quality of their food are also the most popular 15 restaurants in the city could be merely coincidence. That they happen to be among the most expensive in the city is more than coincidence, however, for it indicates clearly the kind of audience that populates these places - an upper income group that may very well value the quality of being "in" as more important than the food they receive. This feeling is reinforced by recognizing, as New York Times restaurant critic Ruth Reichl did, that "these people are more concerned with where they eat than with what they eat". Gail Greene of New York Magazine, an equally respected restaurant critic (New York Magazine) summed it up rather nicely when she wrote that "it does not take very much analysis to realize that being popular and being good are not necessary synonymous".

I agree with the criticisms of Reichl and Greene, and like them am offended by the somewhat too cute and not at all analytical comments one finds in the Zagat guides. Phrases such as "snazzy and sophisticated, hot, sensual and spicy", "pure magic" say as little about the ambiance of a restaurant as "delivers the goods" or "truly soulful' say about the quality of the cuisine.

I have even a greater problem with regard to the Epicurian Rendezvous, which now has guides that include New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Florida. In each case, the evaluations are entrusted to a small team of reviewers whose recommendations are then approved or disapproved in a way that is never made quite clear by the publisher. Even though restaurants do not pay to be included in the guides, in some cities they are required to pay for the photographs of their restaurants, and the supposedly critical reviews sound as if they were written by the public relations firms of the restaurants.

Chefs and Guides

Several years ago, Patricia Wells, the restaurant critic for the International Herald Tribune, wrote that "throughout France, chefs without stars pray that they will get them and those with stars pray even harder that they will not lose them". No matter how hard they pray, however, there is very little chefs or restaurateurs can do to influence the ratings they actually receive in either Gault Millau or the Michelin Guides. The simple fact of the matter is that no matter what one thinks of their policies, their foibles or their reliability, the inspectors, editors and publishers of both of these guides are beyond reproach. If the food, service, decor and atmosphere are not up to their standards, no matter of pleading will have any effect on them. Despite this, Henri Gault, once wrote that "a remarkable number of restaurateurs devote an enormous amount of time writing letters that try to convince us that they are really far better than we have judged them to be".

Influencing the results of the Zagat Surveys is not as difficult. Restaurant owners actively encourage their regular clients to send in evaluation forms; some of the self-appointed critics register with as many as five different names so that they can have five different votes; and many of the respondents recruit their family members and friends to cast votes for them.

© Daniel Rogov