OPINION: Why review culture is making us miserable

I was driving behind a truck the other day and noticed the plaque on the back ‘How’s my driving today?’ I wondered if anyone actually calls the number or do they take a sneaky photo (while driving) so that they can call afterwards (who reviews their driving?) and is there a dedicated call handler sitting there ready to take the flack because as we all know a negative reviewer is far more likely to respond.

Feedback must be one of the few growth industries at the moment but I don’t think it’s making us happier people – looking into every aspect of life with your own set of benchmark expectations can only lead to disappointment. Gone are the days when people came out for a meal, found it wasn’t for them and guess what happened? They just didn’t come back because we can’t be all things to all people. No online vitriol or review site nastiness, just a couple of voting feet.

An industry friend gave me a valuable piece of advice a while ago – don’t read review sites – and I can wholly recommend this. It’s been quite liberating.

You can’t escape completely though because, even though you’re not reading them, they helpfully email you a notification with a little teaser to suck you in.

I couldn’t resist

One caught my eye recently and against my better judgment I couldn’t resist clicking on it.

It read: “Walked all the way from Corbridge on a very hot day only to find this place closed” One star.

This is wrong on so many levels but not least because this individual clearly has the skill to crank up a well-known review site and post a detrimental review but didn’t have the wherewithal to log on to our website and check out the opening times before setting off on a marathon trek.

I bet he had a thirst like a dying man crawling out of the desert… mind boggling.

Lately, I’ve noticed the feedback trend is spilling into pre-visit territory.

Last Saturday, I had an enquiry for Sunday lunch. Usually our Sunday lunch service is full by Saturday but I’d just taken a cancellation so I knew we had space.

I was just about the place the booking when the caller interjected: “Can I just check that you serve PLAIN roasties?” “Eh?” “Yes plain roasties, none of that rosemary and garlic nonsense just plain roast potatoes.” “Yes, ours are plain, just roasted in duck fat.” “Why have you got to do that, why can’t you just do a normal roast potato? Duck fat is REVOLTING.”

‘Revolting’ is a very strong word to use in respect of the humble potato, especially one that has been cooked with care.

Chef’s treat

First, choose the correct potato, nothing too waxy, waxy potatoes are for summer salads and spring lamb. What you want is a floury spud, something traditional like a King Edward.

Peel them, cut them randomly and place in a pan of salted water (not too much water we want to cook them not drown them) and boil until they start thinking about becoming all warm and fuzzy on the outside.

Next, drain into a colander and rough them up a bit before carefully turning in the pre-heated roasting tin, allowing the molten animal fat to explore every secret crevice then place in a hot oven until golden and crunchy. Some of the more top-heavy bits might detach themselves from the mothership and sizzle in the hot fat but that’s OK because that’s the ‘chef’s treat’.

Revolting, eh?

I digress.

But sometimes, the stars align with a golden (no pun intended) opportunity to head a potential problem off at the pass.

“Oh I’m sorry sir, I can see that we’re already full for this Sunday after all.”

*click*

I BEAM.