What the French Laundry Incident Reveals About the State of Food Journalism

Three-Michelin-star restaurant the French Laundry in Yountville, Calif.

To most, it barely registered, but for those who track every movement in the world of fine dining, this week brought a moment of genuine shock. In a nearly 3400 word article, San Francisco Chronicle food reviewer Mackenzie Chung Fegan breathlessly recounted how during a recent visit to the legendary three-Michelin-star restaurant the French Laundry, none other than chef Thomas Keller himself asked her to leave. 

After a 30-minute conversation where Keller confessed his frustrations with the state of food criticism and Chung Fagan reminisced about her first visit to the French Laundry, Keller agreed to serve Chung Fagan and her dining companions. But the revelation still sent ripples through the culinary world. 

In many corners of the media, the article has been lauded with publications and food writers calling it a “fairly harrowing story” and an “extremely good piece of journalism.” But I don’t think it is either one of those things. It felt too inside baseball, and worst of all, it sounded self-important. Journalism is supposed to be in service of the reader, but this was ultimately a story about Chung Fegan, and how she felt slighted, which is more personal essay than journalism. 

At the same time, I will never encourage nor celebrate an adversarial relationship with the media, because when it is done well, I still believe in the power of journalism to educate readers and enact profound change. Keller was wrong to ever believe that critics and chefs were supposed to be on the same team, a sentiment he shared with Chung Fegan. But there is something between servile and snide, and in journalism that is the middle ground we are supposed to strive for. 

But much of today’s food coverage has moved beyond criticism into cruelty. In the era of social media, it is more advantageous to be a provocateur than an objective journalist. Who can forget Pete Wells infamous review of Guy Fieri’s now defunct American Kitchen & Bar in Times Square back in 2012? His biting commentary was mostly posed as a series of questions, which left me with my own, have reviewers outlived their point of usefulness? 

And when Keller's restaurant TAK Room in New York City closed during the pandemic, it seemed especially callous when Ryan Sutton wrote for Eater that it “shouldn’t have opened in the first place.”

Running a restaurant is a hard business that was made tougher by a global pandemic. Now, several years out from COVID, many restaurants are still reeling and have never fully recovered. And the challenges have continued to pile on with labor shortages, rising costs for food and fewer mouths to feed with consumers dining out less often. 

Somehow there is a belief that a public flogging is warranted if the chef has achieved a certain level of success. But I don't believe that is what is meant by speaking truth to power. A lot of the coverage lacks nuance and context like in Soleil Ho’s 2022 review of the French Laundry where she asked if it was still worth the splurge. It is a fair question to pose, but you can’t have a discussion about value without talking about the cost of ingredients and labor needed to put on such a production. 

Chung Fegan stated in her article, “...my credibility demands that I visit one of the most celebrated and enduringly popular restaurants in the country — helmed by one of the most powerful chefs in the world.”

If it is credibility she is worried about then I am not sure that her article does anything to help. Now that Chung Fegan has made herself part of the story in such a personal way, I can’t imagine ever believing that she can provide an objective review or coverage on any of Keller’s restaurants or future projects. And how can we trust as readers that her personal feelings towards a chef won't cloud other coverage? 

Journalists are not infallible — we are human after all. But the calling of this profession demands more than just showing up; it asks us to pursue truth with rigor, to seek balance with integrity, and to resist the corrosive pull of outrage for outrage’s sake. Maybe it’s naïve, but I still believe in journalism as a public service — one that must stand apart from the noise, not amplify it.