The Waning Use of Restaurant Reviews

The plate is stunning, a brilliantly simple disk of white. Nestled in its center, a deftly cooked lobster tail sits defiantly atop a loose circle of fresh pea risotto, lush with butter and brilliant lobster stock and artfully dotted with truffle shavings. A thin bead of vibrant yellow saffron-thyme aioli arcs and swirls gracefully around the rim of the plate. The dinner rolls, soft and supple, ease the butter gently into every nook and cranny. The wait staff, adorned in elegant Armani tuxedos, are armed with such an intimate knowledge of the food and wine that it borders on a PhD. The review meanders along like an adjective filled stream of consciousness. We are drawn in, to say the least, feeling oddly like a Peeping Tom as the critic daringly savors dishes, bravely sampling complex, Rubik's Cube-like sauces and soups and sternly eyeing each and every possible nuance that you, gentle reader, could possible experience..... If only you were there, sporting a genetically identical set of taste buds, liking the same slow braised toenail of Tibetan ox, and savoring the same rose colored swill that some wineries pass off as French oak aged cabernet, stomped lovingly at the vineyard by 6 toed virgins from high up in the Swiss Alps....