Gault says few changes
March 16, 2004 - The Dallas Morning News
PARIS – Last year, French chef Bernard Loiseau took a hit in the Gault Millau restaurant guide and rumors circulated that his hallowed status with its competitor, the prestigious Michelin Red Guide, was on probation. Days later, he committed suicide.
Blunt as ever, the 2004 version of the highly regarded Gault Millau guide hit stores Feb. 19. Has anything changed? What do the guides have to say for themselves?
The answers won’t come from Michelin, as they don’t talk to the press, but Gault Millau is less tight-lipped, even allowing a writer to dine out with one of their secret inspectors.
And editorial chief Marc Esquerré discussed why the Gault Millau people are not feeling guilty. “We did things,” for the current guide, “in our own normal way,” says Mr. Esquerré. “I don’t see how a score could produce something so dramatic.”
But they have changed to be in better contact. “We’ve worked to be more communicative with chefs and their restaurants about how the ratings work at Gault Millau,” Mr. Esquerré says. “We’ll tell chefs how it is we came to their rating and why we think it’s so.
“What won’t change is the clandestine nature of our inspectors.”
Of the five sources of information used to compile the guides, the inspectors are the primary source. This year, 44 inspectors, from students to retired military personnel, visited more than 3,000 restaurants.
Correspondents – think 200 “mini-inspectors” – report on changes in a restaurant. The restaurant itself sends basic information and verifies questions. Readers write in about their experiences: “Sometimes it’s just people who were disappointed in a meal; others give us the whole tale of their vacation.”
Finally Gault Millau itself crunches the information into one short paragraph.
High-tech geek by day, Gault Millau inspector at suppertime, Hervé X is a sort of Neo in the Matrix of Parisian restaurants.
He keeps every French food guide known to man in arm’s reach, and, er, feeds his restaurant habit by living without a car and renting a tiny apartment.
He’s not bent on shaming chefs; he’s just the guy you want writing your food guide.
Might he succumb to Loiseau-related pressure?
“No,” he says with a serious face. “No changes.”
Monsieur X does explain the pitfalls that chefs face.
“The best restaurants don’t make much money,” he says. “Pizza guys make better profit margins!”
To make up for thin margins, a chef will expand the offerings.
Chef Loiseau, for instance, made regular TV appearances, had a line of frozen food and opened three Parisian restaurants. At that point, “They probably don’t have much time to elaborate on the menu,” says Monsieur X.
Indeed, chef Loiseau hadn’t made a major change to his menu in more than three years – the perceived origin of his descent.
Monsieur X’s attention snaps back into the present with the arrival of his steak. It’s a delicious-looking cut with field mushrooms and thick polenta “fries.” But it’s overcooked. He looks as if he’d found his wife cheating on him.
Despite this and a bland risotto, there’s a cured ham and Parmesan wafer appetizer, a duckling with sweet sesame sauce entree and desserts that woo him in the other direction. Unless Gault Millau hears otherwise from its team, the restaurant will hold its rank.
What if the chef’s just having a bad night?
“You still pay the same amount to eat there,” he says. “What is great about a great restaurant is that every day, it’s exactly the same.”
— Joe Ray / Special Contributor
