25 Feb 16th–Feb 22nd, 2023 phoenixnewtimes.com phoenix new Times | cONTeNTs | feeDBacK | OPiNiON | NeWs | feaTuRe | NighT+Day | culTuRe | film | cafe | music | great things happen in such an unusual and often difficult environment. What do you hope to achieve with your reviews? What do you hope readers will take away from them? Hopefully a lot more than whether a restau- rant is good or bad. We’re surrounded by citizen critics, meaning we aren’t exactly hurting for opinions. The age of the newspaper critic as a monolith of dining authority is over, and I think that’s a good thing, because it frees up a critic to dig deeper with restaurant reviews. Your friends can probably tell you whether or not you’re going to like a place. Nowadays, I see the critic’s role as a guide who can put what you’re experiencing into context, present cuisines and food cultures in ways you hadn’t considered, open up avenues you haven’t trav- eled, and help you more deeply appreciate what goes into each dish. The more we collec- tively understand food and restaurant culture, the more rewarding our dining scene will be for all of us, on both sides of the pass. What differentiates a review from other types of food writing? First and foremost, rigor. By that, I mean a review isn’t a glowing puff piece written after dropping in to try a few dishes, or attending a media event where the food is comped or the restaurant is paying you. In many ways, a dining critic is an anti-influ- encer. Both wield influence, but the critic’s earned trust comes from working in a thor- ough and ethical manner. That means paying for everything, visiting a restaurant multiple times and trying most of the menu, booking reservations under false names, making every reasonable effort to fly under the radar as much as possible, and above all, writing with honesty and integrity. A review isn’t about boosting or bashing a place, though it can do either. It’s about offering as honest an assessment as possible. What should readers expect from this new monthly review series? A review, by definition, still needs to be a thoughtful, informed assessment of what does and doesn’t work at a restaurant. But I want to zoom out and spend a little more time putting restaurants into context — talking about how they fit into the dining scene and the greater community. In my experience, every restaurant has a subplot. Why is a particular restaurant strug- gling to survive? What cultural forces have come together to give birth to a unique menu? What is the psychology behind why diners lose their minds over a particular spot? There’s so much more to the story than food, service, and atmosphere. And I’d like to spend a little more time exploring. How do you pick which restaurants to review? I’m looking for four things. First, there is nothing I love more than helping an unher- alded gem find its audience. Second, I try to gauge reader interest. Instead of giving you what you want, I prefer to give you the thing you didn’t realize you need. But sometimes, everybody is just dying to hear about a partic- ular place, and I’m happy to oblige. Third, we occasionally need a reality check. Hype can snowball quickly, and if I think the emperor has no clothes, I might not be able to resist saying so. And fourth, I’m looking for spots that will make for an entertaining, inter- esting read. I don’t want to just sit in judgment. I want to have a conversation. And the best way to do that is to pick a fascinating subject to talk about. Beyond that, I want to try to show off all of the facets of our local restaurant scene. Different cuisines, different price points, different people, different stories. From $250-per-person French fine dining to $5 frybread at a roadside stand. From James Beard Award winners to immigrant refugees. They all have a role to play, one that is equally valuable and important. And I want my work to reflect that. Luster Kaboom Dominic Armato.
