FOOD, Page 65Palate PollsAn empire of eatery reviews
The idea was born -- and why not? -- at the regular monthly dinneráof a batch of New York City foodies. Someone complained about how hardáit was, despite all the magazine and newspaper reviews, to find aáreally good restaurant. Eugene ("Tim") Zagat, a lawyer for Gulf &áWestern, had a bright idea: Why not survey the group's eaterygoingáfriends and circulate a newsletter listing their favorites? In a momentáof Bordeaux-induced bravado, Zagat volunteered to organize the project.
Talk about small acorns and mighty oaks. Requests for Zagat'sáphotocopied survey soon grew to the point that his wife Nina, also anáattorney, suggested that they start selling the guide to coveráexpenses. Now, a decade after that fateful dinner, Tim Zagat is noálonger a practicing lawyer but the mogul of an ever growing mini-empireáof restaurant and hotel reviews across the U.S. For New York Cityágourmets, the appearance of Zagat's annual survey of local restaurantsáhas become an event anticipated much the way their Parisian peers awaitáeach new Guide Michelin. Zagat has extended his restaurant guides toáten other U.S. metropolitan areas (including Chicago, Los Angeles andáNew Orleans) and a two-volume hotel survey covering the Eastern andáWestern states. Atlanta, St. Louis, Kansas City and the PacificáNorthwest will soon have their own Zagats, identical in format (4 in.áby 8 1/2 in., with burgundy covers) and price ($9.95). So will London,áas Zagat goes international starting next year.
What makes the guides unique is that they represent gastronomicaládemocracy in action. The surveys are based on questionnaires filled ináby frequent restaurantgoers, who include the likes of author-editoráMichael Korda and TV chef Julia Child. They rate eateries on foodáquality, decor and service on a 0-to-30 scale, note the average priceáof a meal (including one drink and a tip) and offer a succinct judgmentáon the restaurant. The results, compiled by computer, are boiled downáby Zagat and a team of editors into capsule ratings that can sting asáwell as sing. In the current New York guide, for example, Elaine's, aásnobby literary and show-biz hangout, gets bottom-drawer ratings of 9áin all three categories and such scathing reviewer comments as "I'dárather starve" and "check your self-esteem at the door."
Professional critics have mixed feelings about the guides. "I useáit constantly," says Gael Greene, New York magazine's food maven. "Whenáfriends ask me for a suggestion about where to go, I use it to remindáme of what I love." But Greene, like critic Elaine Tait of theáPhiladelphia Inquirer, also cautions that the Zagat ratings represent aá"popularity poll," not an expert's informed judgment. "It's easy to beábrave when your name's not on an opinion," says Tait.
Zagat counters that several palates are better than one and thatáhis reviewers hardly lack for experience, since they eat out on averageá3.5 times a week. Burly and gregarious, Zagat does better than that:áabout five times weekly, plus table-hopping jags, in which he eyeballsá20 or so establishments just to check out odors, ambience and customeráenthusiasm.
Close readers of the New York surveys observe that they invariablyálist Vinnie's Pizza, a nondescript takeout joint near the Zagats' UpperáWest Side apartment. But Zagat denies the guides reflect a personalátaste, noting that his reviewers rate one posh Manhattan bistro higheráthan he does. "I've never liked La Cote Basque," Zagat says, "but thereáare 500 of them and only two of us."
A lot more than 500, as it happens. By contributing to the 1989 NewáYork City survey, about 3,500 serious eaters got free copies of theáguide, as well as anonymous ego trips. That guide sold in excess ofá200,000 copies and was bought in bulk by some 300 corporations to handáout to favored customers. Over the years, the surveys have earnedá"several millions," adm-its Zagat, whose possible future projectsáinclude a theater survey, a restaurant guide for kids, aátelephone-access national data bank of restaurant information. And whatáabout, um, Paris? "We may do other places," he says, "but the no wordáis for France." Breathe easy, Michelin, at least your home turf isásafe.
