Dear ELV,

Are there any rules for critiquing your friends as food critics? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received a text, or phone call from someone telling me how wonderful some restaurant is, as in: “OMG, you have to try it…the food is AMAZING!” only to be sorely disappointed by another average  Italian or run-of-the-mill steakhouse. Do you have any advice for how to gauge people’s bad taste, and how to deal with their mindless hyperbole when they do?

Signed,

Fed Up With Friends

Dear FU,

First of all, you have to ask yourself: are my friends to the menu born, or are they part of the mindless restaurant rabble? An honest answer to this can be HARDER THAN YOU THINK. If they are part of the latter (most likely), hard decisions must be made. Should I stop talking to them altogether about restaurants? Feign interest? Humor them?

In ELV’s younger years, one or two bad restaurants recommendations would have entailed a week of sullen silence towards the offending friend, followed by a month of passive aggressive behavior — “Sure, I’ll meet you at Jose-Hymie’s Mexican Deli & Falafel Stand,” with no intention whatsoever of showing up — and finally, a thin grimace whenever they started bloviating about anything they ate. As we’ve matured, we’ve developed a system for editing out what our friends tell us about where we “have to go.” It is a COMPLEX MATRIX of information stored, based upon thousands of false leads, uninformed recommendations, and wasted time, money and calories all occurring because we were TOO POLITE to tell someone they have no idea what they’re talking about.

Keep in mind, the circle of ELV’s opinionated friends includes:

- Thousands of KNPR listeners (who’ve followed him since 1995);

- Dozens of doctors (who are never wrong);

- Hundreds of lawyers (who have the worst taste on the planet);

- Countless wine snobs (who wouldn’t know a good ma poo dofu if it bit them on the ass); and,

- 47 women named Jennifer.

Decades in the making, our matrix involves how long we’ve known them, their travel history, cataloging their eating experiences, knowledge of their dining prejudices, how many times they’ve led us astray, and, most importantly, how annoyed we are with them at any given time. Eventually, you distill the whole enchilada down to a simple conclusion, followed by an even simpler statement to them: “THANKS for the information,” you should say, followed by a thin, weak smile. Which is more like a grimace.

Insincerely yours,

ELV

Critics are like eunuchs in a harem. They’re there every night, they see it done every night, they see how should be done every night, but they can’t do it themselves. – Brendan Behan

Critics are like eunuchs at a gang bang. – George Burns

A critic is a man who knows the way but can’t drive the car. – Kenneth Tynan

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Since ELV seems destined never to pay for a bite of food at Old Homestead, he approaches this “review” of it with caution, as should you.

This is hardly something new around the ELV offices, as our non-anonymity is now ubiquitous (we even get busted in Chinatown these days). So it is among other critics (in Vegas and elsewhere) as well, but it still gives us pause before we launch into telling you what we really think of a place, since it’s obvious to both of us that the experience we’re writing about will not exactly be yours.

Truth be told, it is that experience differential that bothers us more than the receipt of free stuff. We always offer to pay, can afford to pay, and really want to pay for the meals at the restaurants we review. But certain restaurants and owners are insistent (charmingly so), and more often than not on the Strip, we don’t pay anything except a hefty tip.

Does this quasi-bribe cause us to conflate or constrict our criticism? In subtle and maybe subconscious ways perhaps, but we like to think at this point in our career that everyone involved knows we will come, taste, and let our opinions rip regardless of whether we threw down for the full cost of a meal.

Does this mean that we’ve developed a certain immunity to the cost-value of what we’re eating? Yes. Were we to actually pay the $300 or so for all of the above food, we might be a bit more prickly about whether we got our money’s worth. But most big-city critics don’t pay with their own money either, so, in their own way, they’re immune to the bite of the tariff as well.  (Our buddy Tom Sietsema pays with a Washington Post credit card – most impressive)

Does being recognized and getting free food mean we’re getting anything better than you will? Not really. A busy restaurant has no time to hand-tailor a dish or a plate “just for the critic,” although it’s a fair bet the top toque in the kitchen will take a few extra seconds to make sure the plating is perfect. Overall though, the food we’re getting is the same ingredients and recipes you will get. With that in mind, we have a clear conscience about posting our opinions, and telling the staff in the restaurants exactly what we think of a dish. It seems we’re doing this more and more these days — much to the Food Gal’s consternation — as most meals have a tableside conversation with the chef or manager where they ask what we thought and we call ‘em as we see ‘em.

“You were pretty rough on him about that sauce,” she’ll whisper sotto voce.

“Maybe…but it was nothing more than a bland, over-salted demi-glaze,” we’ll shoot back, fuming. “Calling it a sauce Perigourdine is blasphemy.”

Are we over-compensating a bit? Flexing our critic’s muscle just to show we can’t be bought? Again, maybe, but we also think we’ve built up enough street cred over the past 17 years to have the chefs respect our opinions, and want to hear them on the spot, rather than reading them a week later. They also know how much respect we have for them (well, most of them anyway), and when we criticize, even harshly, it’s just another form of tough love.

Service, of course, is something else entirely. We know we’re getting VIP attention, appreciate it, but also know how we are treated in no way reflects how the general public is. It’s the reason we rarely, if ever, mention service in our reviews.

By the way, the food at Old Homestead is fucking fantastic.*

OLD HOMESTEAD STEAK HOUSE

In Caesars Palace Hotel and Casino

3570 Las Vegas Boulevard South

Las Vegas, NV 89109

702.731.7560

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* Except for the “Thick Cut” smoked bacon, which is salty, tough and $5/slice…which ELV didn’t pay.

When it comes to Chinese food I have always operated under the policy that the less known about the preparation the better…A wise diner who is invited to visit the kitchen replies by saying, as politely as possible, that he has a pressing engagement elsewhere. – Calvin Trillin

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While ELV was out of town last week, visiting his ancestral home, he stumbled upon an idea that might be perfect for Las Vegas: Beer Growlers!

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Please understand the reason Chinese vegetables taste so good. It is simple. The Chinese don’t cook them, they threaten them. – Jeff Smith

Dude, I can totally incorporate that into a cocktail…

Chinese food – You do not sew with a fork and I see no reason why you should eat with knitting needles. – Henry Beard

Food is always better eaten in little doleful pinchfuls off the ends of chopsticks, no gobbling. The reason Darwin’s law of survival applies best to China: if you don’t know how to handle a chopstick and stick it in that family pot with the best of them, you’ll starve. – Jack Kerouac

We (the Chinese) eat food for its texture, the elastic or crisp effect it has on our teeth, as well as for fragrance, flavor and color. – Lin Yutang

Happy Year of the Dragon:

…from our staff:

ELV will be traveling today, and unpacking tomorrow and will resume his regular postings on Wednesday.