The importance of food writing & an exciting update from Just Meg
'What is the purpose of criticism?'
The first fine dining restaurant to appear in America was Delmonico’s in 1827. The first restaurant review to appear in the New York Times was a review of Delmonico’s, some twenty years later. Astoundingly, thanks to the magic of the internet and dedicated archivists, you can read it here.
Aside from that initial gap of two decades; as long as restaurants have existed, so have restaurant reviews.
The Michelin Guide was first published in 1900 - conceptualised by two brothers who ran a tyre company and wanted to give people a reason to drive further so that they might wear their tyres out quicker. Their restaurant writing encouraged people to drive all over France to visit restaurants, and then beyond. Love it or hate it, these days people will travel all over the world to visit Michelin-starred restaurants.
Back when that first New York Times piece was written, there was literally only one restaurant in America. Equally the restaurant section was a small feature in the inaugural edition of the Michelin Guide; there were not that many noteworthy places to visit. Today, trying to choose between Bristol’s hundreds of restaurants is paralysing. Spare a thought for the Londoners!
Restaurant writing has, for over a hundred and fifty years, connected people with great places to eat. It has separated the wheat from the chaff, it has entertained, inspired, spread ideas and encouraged thousands, nay millions, of people, to book a table and go out to eat. It has managed expectations and informed people what to expect from their dinner, as not everyone wants the same thing when going to a restaurant. Many will argue that even a negative review drives footfall to restaurants.
“If you reduce it down to its very core, the purpose of criticism is to improve”
As our restaurateurs know painfully well, it is increasingly hard to get people to spend their money on eating out. We are still in the thick of a cost of living crisis. A good food writer will take into account the current challenges with staffing, the sustainability of produce, the history and local context of a restaurant - and they will write about all aspects of a restaurant. The service, the food, the ambience. Everything.
A skilled food writer knows the food scene in great detail and will inform you, to the best of their ability, whether a restaurant is worth visiting. When you’re tight on cash and can only afford to go out infrequently - that reassurance is everything.
Let’s get philosophical for a second. What is the purpose of criticism? If you reduce it down to its very core, the purpose of criticism is to improve. It is a vulnerable space to occupy; but when you put any form of art out into the world you expect it to be criticised on some level. Books are critiqued. Art is critiqued. Theatre, critiqued. Music, critiqued.
Why?
If you experience something you are unimpressed by and say nothing, it is because you have given up on the person or subject of your non-critique. To criticise is to care, continually.
Perhaps it is Murphy’s law - if humans are able to share a detailed opinion on something then they will. Perhaps, thousands of years ago our ancestors were busy not only eating berries, but telling each other that one type of berry was sweeter and more delicious than another. Sharing opinions is a means of bonding I suppose. If you share the same opinions as someone you are more likely to trust them. And trust is fundamental to society.
There are hundreds of publications around the world that publish reviews of food, art, culture and there are millions of people that read them. Whether they plan to visit a show, read a book, go to a restaurant or not - people still want to know if it’s going to hit that spot. And if it is, there’s a high chance they will want to visit.
Where our ancestors would have perhaps communicated the tastiest berries using grunts, hand signals or cave paintings - now we use Instagram. Now people visit restaurants because someone they follow has declared the food the best thing they’ve ever eaten. Or at least, the best thing they’ve ever eaten since the last best thing they had ever eaten, which coincidentally was only last week.
These content creators, influencers or whatever you want to call them drive huge amounts of traffic to restaurants. They’ve made careers from this content. Sometimes what they create is truly entertaining.
“Ultimately it comes down to trust - if I never say anything is bad, why should you believe me when something is good?”
The problem is that if everything is good, nothing is good. Worryingly often nothing is paid for either. So the content is biased and often bland, the same phrases and emojis regurgitated to feed an ever-unsatisfied algorithm. The followers move on as quickly as the creators leaving the restaurant out of pocket and wondering what just happened.
I write about restaurants because I love it. It is one of the most creative forms of writing that is still grounded in something real. It is sharing an experience. I am writing this from Chez Candice, where the table next to me are discussing how they found this incredible place in the pages of a local food and drink guide. That is why I do it. For both the people eating, socialising, smiling; and for the restaurateurs whose food deserves such celebration. For making someone realise that there is somewhere so fabulous in their local area that they might not have otherwise known about, and thus better connecting them to their community.
Ultimately it comes down to trust - if I never say anything is bad, why should you believe me when something is good?
Seven or so years ago Bristol was punching well above its weight on the national food scene, probably second only to London. Now we have been surpassed by Manchester, Birmingham and possibly Cardiff too; cities that all have strong local independent food writers. Honest food writing pushes the restaurant scene forwards, encourages innovation, challenges norms and boosts tourism. What city wouldn’t want that?
So there you have it. I think food writing is incredibly important. But you already knew that. The question is, do you think it’s important?
I’ve been writing restaurant reviews weekly on this blog for a year and I’ve seen firsthand how important food journalism is. Now it’s ready for its next evolution.
I want to start paying other food writers to contribute. I want diverse voices and other opinions on this platform. I want to be able to cover more restaurants.
I make an enormous loss on running this blog, because everything I review is paid for in full. I will not ask other writers to do the same. In order to grow it, we will need more paying subscribers.
I have some great writers lined up and I can’t wait to share their creativity with you.
There’s more than one way to show your support.
Close your eyes and imagine the face of a friend of family member who loves food. Think how much they’d enjoy finding brilliant new places to eat. Now open your eyes, and send this blog to them.
If you’ve read something you enjoyed, share it on socials and encourage others to subscribe. It’s free, and having email subscribers allows me to bypass algorithms dictated by the robots in Silicon Valley that do not always prioritise my content.
If you can afford to, upgrade your subscription to pay £3 a month. I promise to make the content worth your while and if it’s not, you can cancel at any time.
Finally, I am changing the name. In order to encourage Bristol’s food scene as glorious as it deserves to be, we need a variety of voices writing about it. I want to create a platform for those voices. So going forwards, it will no longer be Just Meg writing here. It will be The Bristol Sauce for cutting edge restaurant intel, from a handful of people who care deeply about making our food scene the very best.
All words and photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour
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