Ah, the widespread and often contentious topic of restaurant ratings. Any food critic worth his salt, if not already involved in the issuance of ratings, will not be able to ignore the existence of certain prestigious restaurant guides and their influence on the world of food today. And I, as a simple lover of good food, cannot sincerely deny the importance of these ratings in the identification of restaurant quality. After all, there are thousands, if not millions, of restaurants around the world; how else can a gastronome determine which ones truly deserve his time and calories? Sure, the Internet has enabled the emergence of food blogs and amateur “foodies” who express their opinions on all sorts of food-related establishments, from street food to cafes to the most popular of restaurants. But when we seek reliable, authoritative advice on the very best, the ones deserving to be a part of the exclusive club known as haute cuisine, who else can we turn to but the professional, trained tasters or industry insiders who churn out these leading guides?

There is no restaurant guide that is as extensive and globally recognized as the Michelin Guide. As a result, there is also no guide with a greater impact on the restaurant industry than the Michelin Guide. Today, the Guide rates more than 30,000 restaurants and hotels in over 30 territories across three continents, and more than 30 million guides have been sold worldwide. Of course, this number is an understatement of Michelin’s importance, since one can easily look up the list of rated restaurants online without having to actually buy a copy of the guide. Another global guide that is receiving increasing attention is The World’s 50 Best Restaurants, particularly among lovers of fine dining. In this era of food tourism and growing food movements around the world, I would argue that the importance of these guides has never been greater; at the same time, these guides have come under increasing criticism and allegations of bias and corruption. In what light, then, should we view these guides and their corresponding restaurant ratings? In this post, I will lay out my considerations and ultimate views on these two guides.

As always, I encourage my readers to formulate their own views, and your opinions on the Michelin Guide and others may very well differ from mine. What is paramount, of course, is that our views are the result of careful, rational considerations that are impartial and objective to the greatest possible degree, given that complete impartiality and objectivity is impossible when it comes to food. Now, in evaluating the usefulness and validity of the Michelin Guide and the World’s 50 Best, we must seek to understand their histories, their purposes and their methodologies. Only with this knowledge can we examine their role in the world of food today, and determine how we should personally go about utilizing them. It might take a while, but I hope that you, my dear reader, will stick with me. Without further ado, let me begin.


The Michelin Guide

My close associates would know that I love dining in Michelin-starred establishments – not just Michelin-rated, but Michelin-starred. So much so that I have been accused, on multiple occasions, of chasing after stars. Well, I’d like to think that I do not chase after such restaurants with the same bloodthirsty zeal that teenage girls possess when chasing male celebrities, but I do not deny my love for dining at Michelin-starred establishments. And if such a love had to be termed “chasing after stars”, then I’d reluctantly accept the title. For, make no mistake, I am not pursuing restaurants who have merely achieved fame or a prestigious rating, as that title seems to suggest. Rather, the rating, and the accompanying fame, is but a possible indicator of restaurant quality. The question then is, how reliable/accurate/trustworthy is a Michelin star?

What most people refer to today as the Michelin Guide is more precisely the annually published Michelin Red Guide, which reviews both hotels and restaurants in various cities and countries across the world. (Michelin also publishes the Green Guide, which rates attractions other than hotels and restaurants.) Most people are probably also aware that the Michelin Guide is published by and takes its name from the French tire company Michelin, but have you ever wondered how a tire company came to produce the most influential restaurant guide today?

The tire company Michelin was founded in Clermont-Ferrand in central France in 1889 by brothers Édouard and André Michelin, who wanted to create their own version of a pneumatic tire for bicycles. By as early as 1900, the brothers had decided to create a guide to encourage the development of the automobile and tire industry, which at the time saw less than 3,000 cars on the road in France. The first edition of the Guide was published in August 1900 for French motorists, providing useful information such as maps, tire repair and replacement instructions, car mechanics listings, hotels, and petrol stations throughout France. Thus, the Michelin Guide was initially established as a free guide with the purpose of spurring tire demand by facilitating mobility.

In 1920, as the story goes, André Michelin discovered the Guide was being used to prop up a workbench in a tire merchant’s shop that he was visiting. He was displeased, and realizing that “Man only truly respects what he pays for!”, he decided to relaunch the Michelin Guide without any advertisements and sell it for a grand price of 7 francs. More importantly, according to online sources, the dining section of the Guide had become so popular that Michelin decided to establish a team of anonymous “inspectors”, and began listing restaurants according to specific classification guidelines. Fast forward to 1926, the star system was born with select restaurants being awarded a star, while 2 and 3-star ratings came into existence in 1931, beginning with the provinces and followed in 1933 by Paris. By 1936, the definition of the stars was established and has remained largely unchanged since.

For more on the history of the Michelin Guide, you can check this link out – it’s an archived page from the ViaMichelin website.

Now, the definitions of the stars are extremely important and therefore something to which we should pay close attention. Why? Because how can we determine if a restaurant is worthy of its stars if we are unaware of what the stars actually represent, as intended by Michelin? Most people think of the 3-tier system as “good, better, best” but I’d argue that it is not that simple. Below, I list the original definitions in French as published in 1936 and their official English translations.

  • 1 star: Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie (A very good restaurant in its category)
  • 2 star: Table excellente, mérite un détour (Excellent cooking, worth a detour)
  • 3 star: Une des meilleures tables, vaut le voyage (Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey)

Taking their literal translations, the three ratings correspond to “very good, excellent, one of the best”. But notice that the 2 and 3-star ratings contain an additional dimension: 2-star restaurants call for a detour, while 3-star establishments demand a voyage. This alludes to the fact that the Guide was published originally for motorists. What, then, about 1-star restaurants? Are they not worth a road trip? Strictly speaking, if one wishes to be precise, the calculus to determine whether a destination is “worth” a trip is highly subjective – the costs and benefits accruing to the decision-maker are what should be taken into account. But of course, for reviews and ratings to be of use to the general public, they would have to consider the average reader. So we can presume that the 2 and 3-star restaurants are worth a detour and journey respectively for most of us, according to Michelin. In this current age, however, where “foodies” traverse the globe for even casual restaurants and street food, can we still stick to the above definitions? Possibly, since “foodies” are arguably not the average person, but 1-star restaurants are nevertheless widely regarded as being of high quality today. Michelin may or may not have acknowledged this on guide.michelin.com, a website for the Michelin Guide available in select countries (notably France is not included). I found the following image on the website recently.

Source: guide.michelin.com

Note that the 1-star rating is now deemed to indicate a restaurant is worth a stop, according to the website. The English definitions of the 2 and 3-star ratings are the same as previously stated. Did Michelin quietly update the English definitions of the stars in recent years? I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think these new English definitions deviate much from the spirit of the original French definitions. The world today is very much different from that in 1936, and we certainly do not always drive in order to visit restaurants today, so while it will not do us well to be obsessed with semantics, I believe the spirit of the stars lives on. For most people, 1-star restaurants remain very good ones in their respective cuisines, generally worth a visit; 2-star restaurants still serve exemplary food, superior to their 1-star counterparts; 3-star restaurants can still represent the “holy grail” of restaurant ratings, the dream of most chefs, being rare and demanding of a special journey indeed.

The next question one might naturally ask is, are restaurants without a star unworthy of even a stop according to Michelin? This is understandably difficult to answer, not only because the concept of “worth” is subjective as mentioned above, but also because I cannot speak officially for the Michelin Guide. Before you begin proclaiming “Michelin is not always right!”, you should notice that the question of the credibility of the ratings is a different one. Here, I am referring to Michelin’s view of restaurants without a star, given the above definitions of the stars. I certainly don’t believe that Michelin is dismissing all restaurants without a star as being unworthy of a stop. Rather, I believe Michelin is maintaining a certain set of high standards for its stars. Perhaps there are restaurants out there that may be worth a stop, but the quality of their cooking was ultimately deemed to be lacking compared to 1-star establishments.

It is at least clear that Michelin acknowledges the existence of quality food beyond its starred restaurants. According to Wikipedia, Michelin began highlighting in its guide restaurants serving good food at moderate prices as early as 1955. Subsequently, in 1997, the Bib Gourmand was officially launched. A separate portion of the Guide, the Bib Gourmand is a rating indicating quality food that also offers good value for money. To be eligible, restaurants have to serve a three-course meal (starter, main course and dessert) within a specified price range that varies between cities. Then, in a somewhat confusing move, Michelin launched a new rating, L’assiette or The Plate, in the 2016 edition of the Paris guide, recognizing restaurants that “simply serve good food”. The need for this many tiers of ratings is questionable, but nonetheless the cream of the crop is still represented by the stars, and indeed most of the attention, and controversy, the Guide attracts is still directed at the starred establishments.

At this point, we should begin to wonder, how exactly does the Michelin Guide determine if a restaurant deserves a star or two? Or, to phrase it differently, what criteria or processes do the Michelin inspectors employ while reviewing restaurants? It is of little surprise that most people are unaware of Michelin’s rating methodology, since the company is famously tight-lipped about its processes. Officially, Michelin employs a team of anonymous, professionally trained inspectors in every single territory where an edition of the Guide is published. The inspectors never reveal their identities to restaurants at which they dine, and all meals and expenses are paid for by Michelin. The stars are assigned solely based on the quality of the food, a fact that seems to surprise most people when they learn of it, since there are many who believe that fancy interiors and formal service help a fine-dining restaurant earn multiple stars. (For your information, Michelin has a separate “comfort” rating, represented by a fork and spoon symbol.) Now, how does Michelin assess the quality of the food? It has been officially revealed that Michelin utilizes 5 criteria, listed below, but to my knowledge the company has never explicitly stated the weight of each of these criteria. Michael Ellis, the current (and outgoing) International Director of the Guide, has hinted in a recent interview that the 5 criteria are weighted roughly equally.

  • Quality of the Ingredients used
  • Mastery of Flavor and Cooking Techniques
  • Personality of the Chef as revealed through his cuisine
  • Value for Money
  • Consistency between visits

Let us leave aside for now the question of whether truly objective criteria exist for food, and whether the above 5 criteria should be weighted equally. While I personally would not have weighted them equally, I was rather surprised when I first learnt of these criteria, for they struck me as honestly intuitive. Before, I realized, I had subconsciously integrated these criteria in my mind whenever I dined at restaurants. Ingredient quality and cooking techniques are obvious factors, of course, but I realized that I had always seen value in restaurants that were able to uniquely express the vision and character of the chef. Meanwhile, value for money is almost a consideration for every diner without an unlimited expense account, and consistency is also widely recognized as an important goal. So, when I learnt of Michelin’s criteria, I found myself in general concurrence. Perhaps, I might add, I have come to value the chef’s personality even more in recent years, as my aversion to soulless cooking increases over time (the probable subject of a future post).

Over the years, however, Michelin has indirectly revealed snippets of information about its processes through various media interviews. First, the company goes to great lengths to protect the anonymity of its inspectors. Many of the company’s top executives have purportedly never met an inspector, and the inspectors are strongly discouraged from revealing their identities to even immediate family (apparently many claim to work in the food consultancy or publishing industry). Michelin almost never allows its current inspectors to speak with journalists; on one rare occasion when it did, it resulted in a very interesting article in the New Yorker (link here, I strongly encourage a read). Second, the inspectors lead a very solitary life – they dine at restaurants up to two times a day (lunch and dinner), five days a week, and they are discouraged (or forbidden?) from bringing any companions (idle chatter understandably distracts from the review). Third, each inspector, after dining at a restaurant, would write a report according to a standardized format, where they would list every ingredient and the specifics of every preparation, in addition to writing about the comfort level and service. Fourth, while Michelin usually employs foreign inspectors during the first or second year upon entering a new territory, it eventually trains and employs a team of local inspectors. These local inspectors are required to have prior experience in the food or hospitality industry, and are later sent to France for training. They are also required to apprentice under a senior inspector before they are released into the wild. Fifth, when launching a guide in a new territory, inspectors first start off with a pre-determined list of restaurants deemed to be potential star candidates. In subsequent years, Michelin inspectors purportedly visit starred restaurants at least twice a year, and Bib Gourmand restaurants less frequently. Last, the stars are ultimately decided during annual “star sessions”, according to Ellis, who claims to visit every country where the Guide is published and go through every single report with the local editor-in-chief and inspectors. After several days, they apparently come to a collegial agreement about existing ratings and new promotions or demotions.

For an idea of the thoughts that go through the minds of Michelin inspectors as they review restaurants, I will leave you with a quote from the anonymous American inspector in the New Yorker article:

“It’s not really a ‘like’ and a ‘not like,’ ” she said. “It’s an analysis. You’re eating it and you’re looking for the quality of the products. At this level, they have to be top quality. You’re looking at ‘Was every single element prepared exactly perfectly, technically correct?’ And then you’re looking at the creativity. Did it work? Did the balance of ingredients work? Was there good texture? Did everything come together? Did something overpower something else? Did something not work with something else? The pistachios—everything was perfect.”

Colapinto, John. “Lunch with M. .” The New Yorker, 23 Nov. 2009.

So, now that we have examined, to the extent that information is available, the history, criteria and processes of the Michelin Guide, we can begin to ponder about the credibility or accuracy of its ratings, as well as the validity of the criticisms it has faced. I believe that the issues facing the Guide can be divided into two main categories: we can either question if the criteria and processes are appropriate in determining a restaurant’s quality, or we can question if Michelin deviates from its stated ideals in practice.

As mentioned previously, the stars are assigned solely based on the quality of the cuisine, and Michelin attempts to evaluate the quality via 5 different criteria. But are these criteria appropriate, in that can they effectively and accurately assess restaurant quality across the globe and identify the best ones? It should be obvious that there is no absolute answer, for we all know that tastes are subjective and that humans express different preferences through food. Without embarking on a whole new debate, let me just say here that I believe a certain level of objectivity does exist in food. If there are no objective standards to good cuisine, then we would not be able to come to any consensus on what is good food, and the whole concept of food reviews would be called into question.

So, we should ask if Michelin can capture these objective standards through its criteria and processes. My reply would be, I believe Michelin is currently the best equipped to assess restaurant quality around the world. Why do I say so? For one, anonymous, independent, professionally trained inspectors are likely the most objective and impartial source one can achieve. The best tasters are arguably the ones who have sampled the widest varieties of cuisines and examined all possible flavors and gustatory and olfactory interactions. Being independent and professional would mean that they, ideally, would ignore personal preferences and focus on the objective quality of the cooking to the extent possible. It is for this reason that I am less inclined to trust crowd-sourced reviews, such as Zagat, Yelp, TripAdvisor and the like. Michelin inspectors are purportedly rotated between different regions to broaden their horizons, but we do not know the extent to which this rotation is carried out. As I have also mentioned above, I believe in the importance of the 5 Michelin criteria. Cooking, to me, is both an art and a science, and Michelin’s criteria seem to reflect this idea as well. In order to strive towards the apex in cooking, the perfection of taste with its constituent elements in supreme harmony, one must unquestionably use ingredients of the highest quality, as well as flawless technique. Cooking must also have a soul. As for value-for-money and consistency… well, they are not related to the idea of perfection of taste, but they are nevertheless still important factors in assessing restaurant quality.

I do acknowledge, however, that there are no perfectly objective standards in assessing the quality of food, simply because global cuisines differ so much that it is impossible to think that they can be measured by identical yardsticks. French cooking techniques may be highly regarded around the world, and incorporated into various fusion and contemporary cuisines, but there still exists many foreign techniques unknown to the French. Likewise, there are so many different flavors to be explored around the world. This is the source of one of the major criticisms leveled against Michelin outside France: that Michelin is biased towards French (or European) cuisine and does not understand local cuisines. This criticism garnered much attention when Michelin first launched its guide in the U.S. via New York in 2005, and saw local critics and chefs questioning the fact that the starred restaurants were predominantly French.

In recent years, as Michelin expands its presence in Asia, criticism that Michelin lacks a good understanding of Asian cuisine has emerged. Is this true? Perhaps. We cannot deny that a majority of the 2 and 3-star restaurants in the US and Asia serve French or European cuisine (Japan being an exception). French cuisine is often said to place particular emphasis on a certain form of technical accuracy; can such an emphasis be transposed to Asian or other cuisines? I do not claim to have a decisive answer. We can, at least, take comfort in the fact that Michelin recognizes the importance of hiring local inspectors, and that more casual restaurants, without white tablecloths and formal dress codes, have begun to break the ranks of the starred. Despite the differences between cuisines and food cultures around the world, I give Michelin credit for maintaining the same set of criteria globally. If Michelin were to devise different standards for different cuisines and regions, then the ratings would not be comparable across geographic boundaries, and the Guide will never be able to escape questions of credibility!

Finally, we have the question of whether Michelin deviates from its ideals. In other words, does Michelin faithfully adhere to its criteria and processes? This question is the source of much controversy surrounding the Guide today, driven by its aggressive expansion in Asia. An interesting article recently emerged on Eater, summarizing much of the current Asian controversy. Eater suggests that the Michelin Guide entered a new era with the appointment of Ellis, then a Vice President of Marketing and Sales for Michelin’s Two Wheel Tire Division, as International Director in 2011. At the time, a report in the Financial Times claimed Michelin was losing more than $24 million a year on the guides, and was projected to lose $30 million a year by 2015. Subsequently, according to an article originating from Bloomberg, Michelin’s CEO Jean-Dominique Senard set a goal to make Michelin Travel Partner, the business unit that houses the Michelin Guide, profitable. In 2016, the Guide was launched in Singapore, Seoul and Shanghai for the first time, while the Bangkok guide followed in 2017 and Taipei and Guangzhou in 2018. The expansion is far from over, however, with Phuket and Phang-Nga, two more provinces in Thailand, to be added to the Bangkok guide at the end of 2018.

Beyond accusations that Michelin has a poor grasp of Asian food, the current Asian expansion has gathered particular controversy in Seoul, where local food bloggers and critics were up in arms over Michelin’s inaugural choice of starred establishments. Many of them focused on the two Korean restaurants that were awarded 3 stars, saying that they could not compare to 3-star restaurants elsewhere. Rumors of corruption soon followed, with a prominent blogger based in Seoul alleging undue influence by powerful Korean businessmen. Then, in 2017, a Korean government official publicly criticized the state-run Korean Tourism Organization for paying approximately 2 billion won (~USD$1.8 million) to Michelin to bring the Guide to the country. Should this be a major cause for concern? Notably, the fact that tourism boards can commission editions of the Guide is not widely publicized, but it is also not a secret. Michelin has acknowledged that the guides in Seoul, Macau, Hong Kong, Bangkok and Singapore were all commissioned. The Tourism Authority of Thailand reportedly pledged 144 million THB (~USD$4.4 million) in financial support over five years. Tourism boards and Michelin, however, have repeatedly insisted that the Guide’s selection of restaurants and awarding of stars remain completely independent.

Seoul is not the only place where the Guide has stirred up accusations of partiality in recent times. To my knowledge, many insiders in the restaurant industry in Singapore believed that the Guide showed much favoritism to Joël Robuchon (may he rest in peace), whose eponymous formal French restaurant (since closed) was the only one awarded 3 stars in the tiny city-state. It should be noted that allegations of corruption or bias is hardly new to Michelin. When Pascal Rémy, a former Michelin inspector in France, published a tell-all book in 2004, he accused Michelin of treating famous French chefs, such as Paul Bocuse and Alain Ducasse, as “untouchable” and not subject to the same rigorous standards as lesser-known chefs. In Japan, where the Guide has famously awarded more stars than any other country, accusations of leniency date back to 2007, the year it first published its Tokyo guide. Michelin was accused of being too generous in Japan, in order to gain acceptance with Japanese diners and market its tire business in the country. Thus, we can see that the Guide attracts controversy almost everywhere it goes.

Do I believe that the Michelin guide is corrupt or biased? Clearly, I don’t possess any concrete evidence to support the accusations. Suggestions that the Guide unfairly favors an individual restaurant or chef are also difficult to prove, as they could be attributed to various incidental circumstances or simple disagreement over the quality of the food. I don’t take issue with tourism boards commissioning the Guide in their respective countries – the cost of hiring a new team of inspectors, visiting restaurants, and publishing and marketing a new guide is not insignificant – insofar as the independence of the inspectors, and ultimately the ratings, are faithfully maintained. While the Guide has been unprofitable in the past, there is nothing saying that the business of publishing guides or restaurant reviews has to be unprofitable. That said, if Michelin did allow the awarding of stars to be influenced by business interests, then that would betray the spirit of the Guide. The integrity of the Guide should never be compromised – it is the anonymity and independence of the inspectors, and their intransigence about their standards, that contribute to the Guide’s aura of incorruptibility.

It is also for this reason that I find myself troubled by a new trend in the Michelin Guide. There is no mistaking the rise of a more casualized form of fine dining in recent years. A new wave of restaurants and their chefs have emerged around the world to eschew the formalities that were once considered to be indispensable to fine dining. These restaurants have cast aside opulent interiors and formal service, yet they still place above all an emphasis on quality produce and creative cuisine. In so doing, they have almost created a new class of dining, somewhere in between the casual and formal restaurants of old. These restaurants have then gone on to win Michelin stars for their cooking (too many examples for me to list). This is, to me, something to be celebrated, as it allows chefs to express themselves in ways they could not before in a formalized setting, and also makes quality cooking more accessible to everyone. After all, recall that stars are awarded solely on the quality of the cuisine. But, I ask, how much can fine dining be casualized? Is there not a point when fine dining ceases to be “fine”? Can a restaurant be casualized to the extreme, yet still serve quality food on par with its fine dining peers? The Guide has awarded stars to casual restaurants since many years ago, but with the Hong Kong and Macau guide, which was first published in 2008, it awarded stars to extremely casual establishments such as dim sum chains, making it possible to obtain a meal at a starred restaurant at prices never seen before. Then, in 2016, as if trying to push the envelope and challenge the very definition of casual dining, it awarded stars for the very first time to street food locations in the inaugural edition of the Singapore guide. Street food, gasp! Establishments that can’t even be considered restaurants! The inaugural Bangkok guide followed that up with another street food location.

Now, let me make it clear that I have nothing against street food in itself. Street food can be a delicious experience, I have no doubt. I have sampled and thoroughly enjoyed street food in so many countries myself. But, I will state my belief here, and let it be known henceforth – street food has no place amongst the stars of the Michelin Guide! Allow me to justify my position. Even if one were to argue that the concept of a restaurant can be forsaken in the Michelin Guide, as the Guide does not award stars based on the interiors or service, I simply cannot imagine how street food can satisfy the criteria of the Guide, established since 1936! Look again at the 5 criteria – how many of these can street food claim to satisfy? Quality ingredients? Technical mastery? Personality of the chef? I have to resist the urge to laugh. If anything, street food can only satisfy the last two criteria, value for money and consistency. If we were to accept that street food can achieve quality ingredients, technical mastery and personality worthy of a star, then we would be insulting the hard work of many other chefs in restaurants around the world, who have honed their skills and crafts for years, only to be placed on the same pedestal as street food. I am almost inclined to call this a travesty! Until I encounter street food that satisfies all 5 criteria and can stand up to other starred establishments, I will adhere to my conviction. I therefore believe that the Michelin Guide has committed a grave error, and should immediately revoke the stars from all street food locations. It has been proposed that street food was included in the Singapore and Bangkok guides in order to garner publicity, particularly in a corner of the world that is internationally recognized for street food. If this was the case for the stars, then it betrays the standards of the Guide!

Final Thoughts

The Michelin Guide should be taken as what it actually is – a guide. A signpost. Something that leads us through unfamiliar locations, and points our way through the darkness. Without a guide, we would be blind, hapless; we would stumble, and we would fall.

Are guides always correct? Whether they are human or a written object, have we always agreed with the recommendations of guides? Guides are not infallible, yet they have to earn our trust. So, as travelers into the unknown, we may occasionally be disappointed by our guides, but we still have to place our trust in the guide we believe to be best equipped to show us the way.

I recall that in a recent interview with Michael Ellis, it was suggested that the Michelin Guide is authoritative, not exhaustive. I find this portrayal to be fair. While the Guide seeks to review every single restaurant potentially deserving of a star, it is not inconceivable to occasionally miss a few. Does that mean the Guide ceases to be of use? Hardly. There is still no other restaurant guide as extensive, as wide-reaching, and as authoritative as Michelin. Ellis said that he welcomes disagreement. Disagreement that gives rise to lively debate should be encouraged. In fact, did you know that Michelin has always accepted feedback from the public, ever since the inclusion of a questionnaire in the Guide in 1929? Today, Michelin purportedly receives thousands of letters and emails each year. Of course, we don’t know how much of those feedback the Guide actually incorporates.

The Michelin Guide has benefited me greatly throughout my travels. I have dined at so many wonderful establishments that I would not have discovered if not for the Guide. Have I ever been let down before by a Michelin star? Of course, is there even a need for me to state this? But I still place my trust in the Guide. And I continue to hope that the Guide will uphold its standards, and not give in to external pressures. Even as Michelin endeavors to turn the Guide profitable, use it to market its brand in emerging markets, and expand the Michelin Travel Partner unit through acquisitions (recall the original purpose of the Guide was to facilitate mobility), I pray that it stands by the independence and expertise that made it successful in the first place. The day may come when I lose my trust in the Guide. But that day is not now.


The World’s 50 Best Restaurants

The World’s 50 Best Restaurants is quite an interesting beast. Set up as a one-time stunt by the staff of the British magazine Restaurant in 2002, it became so successful that it quickly established itself as a major event in the culinary world. Like the Michelin Guide, the World’s 50 Best draws much media attention every year and has the ability to make or break restaurants. However, it has a large number of distinctions from the Michelin Guide and thus can be interpreted quite differently.

In the 16 years since its first list, the World’s 50 Best has indeed come very far. It is now produced and overseen by William Reed Business Media, the U.K.-based media company that owns Restaurant magazine. At some point in the past, the list was officially known as San Pellegrino World’s 50 Best Restaurants, as San Pellegrino was the main sponsor at the time. Now both San Pellegrino and Acqua Panna are listed as main sponsors, and there is a long list of other commercial partners. The name itself is rather misleading – the list actually extends to 100 restaurants from around the world, and the producers have since created separate lists for Asia and Latin America, namely Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants and Latin America’s 50 Best Restaurants. Then, to add to the confusion, there is another affiliated list called The Diners Club 50 Best Discovery Series, which highlights “on-the-up” restaurants that did not make the various 50 Best lists. So, all in all, there are more than 200 restaurants featured each year in the World’s 50 Best. In addition, the organization awards a series of special prizes for individuals and restaurants, including the One To Watch Award, the Lifetime Achievement Award, the Chefs’ Choice Award, and the Best Female Chef.

On its official website, the World’s 50 Best claims to do several things. First, as an annual list, it claims to provide a snapshot of some of the best destinations for unique culinary experiences. Next, it claims to reflect the diversity of the world’s culinary landscape, as well as celebrate “the universality of cuisines” through its conferences and events. Last, it claims to be a barometer for global gastronomic trends, by unveiling up-and-coming chefs and culinary trends. Does it actually achieve all of these things, or are they but PR-speak?

Before we examine the methodology of the World’s 50 Best, I would like to point out several important distinctions from the Michelin Guide. While the World’s 50 Best is global just like Michelin, it is more of a list than a guide. Why is this so? The World’s 50 Best is simply a list of top restaurants created from votes of experts, and unlike Michelin it does not review a broad range of restaurants in a specific geographic location before narrowing it down to a select few. It does not have several tiers of restaurants like Michelin, and thus is unable to “guide” readers to a quality level of their choice. Instead, the World’s 50 Best ranks restaurants numerically, focusing most readers’ attention to the top few. Therefore, while Michelin points readers towards good restaurants in their city or country of choice, the World’s 50 Best, interestingly, frames each restaurant as a special destination and thereby encourages food tourism and the creation of a celebrity restaurant or chef.

Of course, with only a limited number of possible entries a year compared to the Michelin Guide, the World’s 50 Best has to be extremely selective, the crème de la crème so to speak. It is because of this selectivity that most of the entries on the list are fine dining establishments that serve haute cuisine, with prices running easily into the hundreds of (US) dollars. The list is also famous for featuring the frontrunners of molecular gastronomy (a topic for a future post). As a result of its differing criteria, pointed out on Wikipedia, the World’s 50 Best has been able to showcase “unconventional” restaurants such as Momofuku Ssam Bar, Asador Extebarri and St. John alongside traditional fine dining establishments. I doubt, though, that its unconventionality will ever extend to casual restaurant chains and street food, such as in the Michelin Guide.

By this point, you must be wondering how exactly the voting for the World’s 50 Best works. The website itself has an excellent infographic summarizing the process.

Source: The World’s 50 Best Restaurants

The first thing to note is that the list is compiled from the votes of over 1,000 people worldwide, 1,040 to be exact. These voters form the World’s 50 Best Restaurants Academy – 34% of them are chefs or restaurateurs, 33% are food writers, while 33% are well-traveled gourmets. To encourage global representation on the list, the Academy is actually divided into 26 geographic regions, some spanning more than one country. The divisions are designed to represent the global restaurant scene at the current time and are reassessed annually. Each of the 26 regions has a voting panel of 40 members, and the members of each panel are selected by the region’s Chairperson, who is included on the panel. Interestingly enough, all voters, with the exception of the Chairs and Vice Chairs, must remain anonymous, and a minimum of 25% of panelists from each region change every year.

Each voter has 10 votes, of which at least 4 votes must be for restaurants outside his or her home region. The organizers do not impose any pre-determined checklist or criteria on the voters, and voters are free to vote for any restaurants they personally deem best. In other words, the final list is the combination of the personal “best” lists of 1,040 voters! The actual voting process, however, is strictly confidential and subject to many rules. For one, voters must have eaten in the restaurants they nominate in the last 18 months. Voters are not permitted to vote for restaurants in which they have a financial interest. They also cannot vote for a restaurant that is closed or will close within 3 months of the lists being published. Voters ultimately submit their 10 choices in order of preference. For a complete list of the rules, please follow this link.

The entire voting process is adjudicated by Deloitte, who has been named the official independent adjudication partner of the World’s 50 Best. Deloitte has apparently been granted full and independent access to the voting process and data, and has performed “certain” procedures to confirm the integrity and authenticity of the resulting list. Deloitte also has the ability to normalize the voting data when there is a significant variance between the percentage of votes a region receives and their proportionate representation on the list.

Now that we have taken a look at the World’s 50 Best methodology, we can draw some interesting conclusions. At first glance, the Academy members, or voters, appear to have been given much more freedom than Michelin inspectors. Each voter is left to decide for himself or herself what the “best” is, and there are no strict criteria to follow when assessing a restaurant’s quality. The voter can therefore choose to incorporate, or not, the quality of the food, the level of service, the interior decor, or the price level in his or her choices. Does this freedom translate into positive results? In theory, this freedom from strict criteria should allow voters to express unique, creative choices, without being imprisoned by any particular expression of technical mastery or cooking style. But is this actually the case? Let us consider the past and present entries on the list. From herein, I am only considering the main worldwide list, not the separate Asian or Latin American lists.

I’ve already mentioned above that there have been several instances of “unconventional” restaurants entering the list, such as casual establishments or ones that serve highly exotic cuisine. (Thankfully, World’s 50 Best has not gone so far down the path of casualization like Michelin that it includes street food.) But a quick glance at the past or present list will tell you that the list is dominated by expensive, haute cuisine establishments that serve meals in the traditional, multi-course format. It will also easily occur to you that the list is heavily Eurocentric, in particular favoring restaurants from France and Spain, a common criticism. This is despite all the measures taken to ensure wide geographic representation in votes. I also would like to point out that the upper crust of the list is highly sticky – while the 51st-100th spots often see restaurants entering or leaving, and the 26-50th spots occasionally see large movements in a restaurant’s ranking, the top 25 spots hardly see any movement or changes. At the pinnacle, the same bunch of restaurants move up or down several notches a year. Finally, the list has been frequently criticized as lacking female representation.

Source: Wikipedia

What should we make of the above observations or criticisms? Should we dismiss the World’s Best 50 list as biased and therefore inaccurate? Now, assuming that the voting process was carried out fairly and there was no improper manipulation of the data, then the list represents the opinions of the Academy members on what constitutes the “best”. This “best” then is generally centered around European cuisines and male chefs. So the question we should be asking ourselves is, why are restaurants that serve European cuisine and are run by male chefs considered the “best”? Is it because European cuisines provide for better food or dining experiences? Is it because there are more highly skilled and/or talented male chefs in the restaurant industry than female chefs? Or, is it because the voters in the Academy, the so-called experts, have a strong personal bias towards European cuisines and male chefs? Or, in a more insidious scenario, is it because the restaurant industry, as well as diners, have long favored European cuisines and male chefs, such that non-European cuisines and female chefs have not had the opportunity to showcase their abilities?

Bias, as always, is terribly difficult to prove, especially when most of the voters are anonymous. But even if they were identified, how can we conclusively determine that their votes were skewed unfairly, and not the result of their genuine assessments of the best restaurants? Take myself, as an example. While I am ethnically Asian, and I do enjoy certain Asian cuisines, I also have a great love for European cuisines, and most of my best dining experiences have been at restaurants serving European cuisine, and run by male chefs. Does that make me biased? Am I, as an ethnic Asian, obliged to support Asian cuisine and advocate for greater Asian representation on the list? In theory, unless all geographic regions and both genders are equally represented on the list, there is always a potential for accusations of bias. So how much representation is “enough”?

To be clear, I am not against greater representation of non-European cuisines and female chefs. As a lover of food, I wish to see that representation earned fairly. In 2017, only 3 restaurants of the top 50 featured female chefs. That’s 6%, clearly a tiny number. The organizers recognize this issue, and perhaps as a way of compensating or generating PR goodwill, they give out a World’s Best Female Chef award every year. Dominique Crenn, the 2016 winner of the award, has explicitly dismissed the award as “stupid“, arguing that a gendered award like this simply alienates female chefs. I’m rather inclined to agree. Ana Roš, the 2017 winner, and Clare Smyth, the 2018 winner, were less outwardly critical, but acknowledged the need for change. Other well-known figures, including Anthony Bourdain (may he rest in peace), have also come out to criticize the award. The issue surrounding the Best Female Chef award somewhat mirrors that of the separate Asian and Latin American lists. Why do we need these separate lists? The organizers justify it as showcasing culinary diversity, and we of course cannot deny what these separate lists have done in terms of promoting Asian and Latin American restaurants. But why aren’t more Asian and Latin American restaurants making the main list? Evidently, we have a long way to go – building awareness is but the first step.

My personal experiences with the World’s 50 Best have been nothing short of extraordinary. With the exception of one very prominent, highly ranked restaurant (whose identity I shall not reveal for now), all of my experiences with restaurants on the list have been magnificently sublime, exhilarating, eye-opening, and in one case, possibly life-changing. In other words, almost all of the best meals I’ve had in my life involve restaurants on the list. For that reason, I do hold a certain amount of respect for its selections. However, I have little doubt that there are still plenty of uncharted waters for me to explore, wonderful restaurants that may or may not already be on the list. I shudder in excitement at that thought.


This has been a long post, and if you’ve read it in its entirety, I am certain you have also formulated your own set of opinions towards the Michelin Guide, the World’s 50 Best, or restaurant ratings in general. I am also certain that your opinions have been influenced by your past dining experiences, just like mine have. Whatever the case may be, I hope any disagreements will be the stepping stone for buoyant, passionate debate about food and its elements. The global culinary scene has seen both encouraging and disturbing trends, but I nevertheless hope that the interest in gastronomy building around the world will continue to grow.

The Michelin Guide and the World’s 50 Best are considerably different in nature, as I’ve expounded on above, but I believe that they still point the way towards the current leaders of gastronomy. They are neither perfect nor can they claim to be. But perfection, as in the art of cooking itself, is something never to be obtained, but eternally chased. As a true lover of good food, how can one sit still upon being told of a new culinary destination, promising of unknown gustatory pleasures? It’s an expensive affair, to be sure, but we have to lead our lives for something. 

Categories: Food/Drink