If you’re ever in need of a conversation starter with another person who’s even remotely interested in restaurants or food, chances are you’d do well with talking about food critics. Who are these people? How many times do they need to go to a restaurant in order to fairly critique it? How many dishes do they need to eat? Do they get sick of always going out? And then, of course, there’s the issue of anonymity, or the lack thereof. Is it disingenuous to disguise oneself or to use a fake name?
I can say with all honesty that I don’t know how I feel about anonymity and being a food critic. Bill Addison, at the LA Times, just “unveiled” himself. Julia Roberts, in My Best Friend’s Wedding, didn’t try to be anonymous. Ruth Reichl has written extensively on the subject. There was a piece in The New Yorker in 2009 headlined “Why Restaurant Critics Need Anonymity.” It feels like for every person who thinks anonymity is important, there’s someone who disagrees.
Then there are the critics who don’t have a choice. When my dad was at the height of his New York Times fame, we couldn’t go out to eat without someone coming up to our table. But my very favorite commentary on the issue of being a food critic and anonymity—or lack of anonymity—was an essay written by the food writer Lyndsay C. Green for the Detroit Free Press in 2022. It’s called “Accidentally Anonymous,” and when my dad edited the 2023 edition of Best American Food Writing, he included the piece in it. I highly recommend you read it; it’s nothing like what I thought it would be, and I loved it. I won’t get into it here; because you can hear Mark and me talk to Lyndsay about it.
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