Beyond the Plate: Dining Out
At the end of March, the New York Times Dining Section consisted of articles on several things I don’t know much about: tagines (which I am tempted to explore further due to my recent foyer into North African cooking, but don’t want to spend the money on buying terra-cotta tagine baking dishes, which was the focus of the article), Paris’ Algerian pastries (although tempting, I can’t really provide much insight into since, to do it right, I really should travel to Paris), a wonderful sounding Palestinian restaurant in Bay Ridge (I must admit, the Times seems to be going a little crazy with the special-interest stories profiling older female cooks, usually with an ethnic twist) and, among other things, the weekly lead Frank Bruni restaurant review which tears apart Urena, not for its food, but for its décor. Although I don’t know about Urena, Bruni makes restaurant atmosphere a big part of his review, which is something I certainly do know a bit about. At the very laest, I have an opinion on it.
Avid food media consumers have slammed Bruni time and time again; it comes with the job. One criticism I’ve seen pop up numerous times on message boards like E-Gullet has to do with his attention to atmosphere (the music mentioned in the Babbo piece stands out) as much as, if not more than, the actual food. Granted, Bruni seems to be getting considerably better at spending equal amounts of time on both in recent reviews, like this one on Urena, but I do think he is doing something a bit interesting for restaurant patrons: forcing us to recognize that dining, for many or most, is an experience.
This concept is new and something that every restaurant lover would most likely agree with, but I do think so many of these types are in it for just the food. Bruni gives us the impression that he is not there merely for the food. At this point in his tenure as the Times dining critic, we know he is truly looking at the dining experience, as well as the food.
Traditionally, the New York Times Dining Critic should be just this: an insane food person. Who cares if the restruant looks like the inside of the Unibomber’s shack as long as the abalone is the best you’ve ever had? Although I’d imagine that atmosphere in such a place would add to the experience more than cushy banquettes were you a certain type of person. Although this may upset the self-proclaimed gastronomes and foodies of the world, I by no means think it’s a bad way to go. I think it actually has the potential to draw in the average eater who can be put off by long descriptions of foam consistencies and foie gras preparations. Most people understand bad carpet, less understand reductions and sous vide. The review becomes a little more accessible to the masses by taking both into consideration.
On a personal level, for everyday dining, atmosphere is huge to me. When someone asks me, “What do you feel like tonight?” I’m often thinking “cool and airy or cozy and warm, trendy or old fashioned, etc.” From my personal arsenal of places that I know serve good enough food, what makes me decide at that particular moment is how each is going to make me feel, not just because of what I’m eating.
Food is extremely important to me and I expect restaurant reviews to fully delve into preparations, menus and the like, but I do appreciate a good bit on the more mundane, like the drapes, light fixtures, and features of a place. How about you? When reading a restaurant review, what are you looking for?
