return to sender: blue valentine, 75011

At the restaurant I used to manage in Los Angeles, we had an amusing problem. One of the owners was friends with R.E.M., and accordingly that band featured heavily on the mandated nightly playlist. But the members of R.E.M. came into the restaurant relatively often. Whenever we got wind of their arrival, we had to be absolutely sure to switch to a non-R.E.M. playlist, to avoid the cosmic embarrassment that would ensue if the band walked in while their own songs were playing. In such a circumstance (for it did indeed occur once or twice) the entire restaurant comes off looking like the guy wearing the band's t-shirt to the concert.

So, what if you've named your restaurant after a classic Tom Waits song, and then you play Tom Waits all the time in your restaurant? This is lame before Tom Waits even sets foot in the door.

Luckily for the owners of newish Republique restaurant Blue Valentine, that problem is easily fixed. Unfortunately, it's representative of the restaurant's entire concept, which is almost unsalvageable. Blue Valentine is a clumsy attempt to ride contemporary restaurant trends without understanding any of them. Cocktail service, a magnum-only, mostly natural wine list, rock music, and a market menu helmed by a Japanese chef. Woau! But it's like the owners were told about these elements cohering successfully in other restaurants, and then the owners gamely tried to replicate the blend themselves, without first examining any other restaurants.* The result is a pitifully inauthentic experience, one of the most embarrassing meals I've had in years. I felt like the intended target of seduction by a college freshman.

pants: le pantruche, 75009

A defining feature of the blog era is that it permits anyone, just anyone, to publish criticism on a given subject, regardless of his or her expertise in, or even familiarity with, said subject. I myself benefit from this phenomenon as much as the next guy: I'll pronounce opinions on wine regions I've never visited, for instance, or I'll rely solely on web research for the history of a particular wine bar. These are habits that are rightly discouraged in conventional journalism.

One arguable advantage of this new blog order is the addition of fresh voices, fresh perspectives into niche fields that were historically the province of established professionals. Published criticism of any sort has gotten a great deal less Mandarin. Reader and writer, once divided by the greater access and broader perspective of the latter, have grown closer than ever.

The downside is that many of these fresh outsider voices are just totally uninformed. And perceptibly outside the industries they cover. I'm not saying it's impossible to know a subject well without ever having worked with it professionally. It is less likely, though.* One is liable to get snowed. For instance, I suspect it was mostly just critical naivete, combined with a certain hunger for newness typical of the hyperactive blog media environment, that yielded a flush of great press earlier this year for 9ème modern bistro Le Pantruche.

It's a restaurant that might succeed in charming you if, by gosh, you just like fancy food, and to hell with details, such as wine, knowledgeable service, inspired restaurateurism, etc.