James Beard, P.I.

And the Award for Dumb Shit goes to ...

“I love you but you are not serious people.” – Logan Roy, Succession.

In the New York Times this week, Brett Anderson and Julia Moskin report how the James Beard Foundation, in an effort to respond to legitimate, long-standing criticism about its awards process, set up an ethics committee and a tip line. This led to a private investigator interrogating Sam Fore, the chef of a pop-up in Kentucky, about social media posts on her public and private (!) accounts. Turns out, someone had submitted screenshots to the ethics committee anonymously. (Snitches, man.)

I’m not sure how to respond to this news – other than with emojis, maybe? (The “shake my head” and “melting face” come to mind.) But, if I ever decide to give out Dumb Shit Awards for the food world, it’ll definitely make the shortlist. (Insert the trophy and poop emojis here.) 

The same article also surveys some of the other controversies that the Beard foundation has faced, including transparency, financial impropriety, etc. Money problems aside, I’ve got a suggestion that might solve all of their their award-related issues, at once.

Stop doing them.

In “Best Lists are The Worst,” I argue that there are three problems inherent to restaurant rankings, namely: 

1. They are based on selected, subjective criteria, typically the “wants and whims of wealthy diners”.

2. They not only pick figurative winners and losers,

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but, at least to some extent, which businesses survive and which do not (a power I don’t think any private, unaccountable organization or platform should possess).

3. What I call “list-washing”, or how they “can also serve to launder problems common to the hospitality industry”. 

I bring these up because – obviously – they apply to the James Beard Foundation Awards, as well. This should be evident in all of the controversy related to the so-called “Oscars of the food world” (barf emoji).  

To take only one category, “Best Chef: Southwest”, think of it this way: The states of Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico and Oklahoma are home to some 25,000 restaurants. Best chef, how? They prepare your favorite pollo asada? 

The answer, to my mind, is not to make awards and lists more diverse or representative; it’s to stop taking them seriously, at all. Worry not: The hospitality industry will survive, and wealthy people will have plenty of places to wine and dine. Communication platforms abound, so they can certainly share with one another their likes and dislikes, their favorite little chef, with ease. And nothing will stop them from playing dress-up now and again, from throwing a gala to congratulate themselves for their food preferences – without the pretense that they’re doing American cuisine or the working class a favor in the process.

In closing, consider this: The Times notes that the Beard foundation filed revenues of $18 million in 2020.

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Should the executives and board share legitimate concerns about the culture of hospitality and the material conditions of its labour force, here’s another suggestion: You could do a hell of a lot of advocacy and educational work with $18 million. Maybe even some lobbying, too.

1. Chefs and restaurateurs don’t actually “win” these awards, something that feels obvious, but should be stated.

2. According to the NYT’s source, $1.6 million of that went to “Executive compensation”, including $380,000 to the CEO, and $3 million to “Other salaries and wages”. I can’t quite find precise numbers for their staff; their own website lists about 39, by my count; other sources put that number between 80 and 100.