When you sit down for a meal at a restaurant, itself a privileged act, of course, unless one accepts the premise that it’s not colonialism to use one’s undeserved earnings to enjoy a decent meal, would you like to know that it’s worth the price? Then you’re going to have an issue with the nextgen food critics.
2018 was a year of tectonic shifts in restaurant writing. Both the critic and the criteria came under scrutiny. The #MeToo scandals sparked a national reexamination of the field’s food-first values. Media outlets across the country debated how to cover restaurants owned by Mario Batali, John Besh, Paul Qui, and other alleged abusers.
Eater: “Maybe Don’t Review Restaurants Run by Bad People?”
Philadelphia Inquirer: “It’s Not My Job to Pass Judgment on a Chef’s Character.” Continue reading

