Newspaper restaurant critics have what many consider a dream job, dining out as often as they like on someone else’s budget.
If you were a restaurant reviewer and could review any restaurant in the world, where would you go first? Why? If you were the critic for your local paper, what restaurant in your community would you choose?
A couple of years ago, the Times restaurant critic Pete Wells answered readers’ questions about his job. Here is one:
Q. It’s very hard to describe food. Are there adjectives that you are guilty of using and re-using? And conversely, are there words you refuse to use, just cause they’re either your pet peeves, or they’re over-used? And extrapolating, what are trends in food reviewing of late that you absolutely hate?
— Beth, Santa Monica, CA
A. I’m sure if I ran a word-frequency program over all my reviews to date I’d be mortified by how many dishes were rich, or fragrant, or aromatic, or delicate, or gentle, or crisp, or crunchy. But you’re right to sense that some repetition is unavoidable. I try to stick to short and unobtrusive adjectives whenever I can. I could probably describe a serving size as “large” once a week without anyone noticing, but I doubt I could get away with “brobdingnagian” more than once in a lifetime. If that. I try to stay away from industry jargon, like “price point” instead of prices or “cocktail program” instead of cocktails. There are a few adjectives that just make my skin crawl, like sinful. The Times would probably frown on orgasmic, with good reason.
Keep that answer in mind as you read his latest review, of a restaurant in Queens called Dumpling Galaxy, which features 100 varieties of dumpling. Here are a few of his descriptions:
Resist the exploratory nibble. Dip one side in black vinegar and soy, and paint it with chile oil if you like, then pocket the whole thing in your mouth. It won’t gush with a waterfall of broth. It will, however, hold a few drops of liquid shed by the filling as the dumpling boiled. Those drops belong to you.
Sometimes those juices taste like fresh green herbs, as when Ms. You mixes cilantro with minced lamb, or dill with excellent softly scrambled eggs. Sometimes they combine those qualities with a whiplash of heat, as in the head-twistingly good spicy beef dumpling, seasoned with scallions, fresh red and green chiles, and searing dried chile sauce.
… I’ve eaten entire meals that delivered less flavor than a single one of Ms. You’s dumplings stuffed with terrific little meatballs of duck and shiitakes. And if those hadn’t cheered me up, the fried dumplings would. Ms. You pours watery cornstarch into the pan, which bubbles and browns into a shatteringly thin, dumpling-studded pancake. Cracking that crust, I felt like the happiest guy in the galaxy.
Students: Read the entire review, then tell us …
– What do you notice about Mr. Wells’s language? Does it make you hungry? Do you think it is effective? Why or why not?
– What restaurant, anywhere in the world, would you review if you could? Why? What would you order?
– What local restaurant would you review if you were the critic for a community paper? Why?
– Have you ever tried to describe a meal? What challenges did you face? Mr. Wells mentions descriptive words about foods that he avoids. What words would you avoid? Why?
Students 13 and older are invited to comment below. Please use only your first name. For privacy policy reasons, we will not publish student comments that include a last name.
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