Moreen Simpson: How I ended up getting a roasting after a bad restaurant review


This might sound bizarre but, in the fraught world of journalism, restaurant reviews can sometimes be the most squeaky-bum.

No, I don’t mean the couple of memorably explosive Vindaloo ‘tasters’ closely followed by Johnny Cash’s Ring Of Fire.

But when I was doing them regularly in the 1980s, they probably caused more sleepless nights than reporting the most complicated court cases or council debates.

OK, I understand. Chefs are prima donnas, passionately proud of their meals and venues. The local paper calling them short can be a business-breaker.

Yet I also know readers are drawn to honest reviews of eat-ooteries to help them decide where to spend their precious dosh on the best food.

If it’s not good, better we should waste oor money than them.

For example, back then, I was reviewing a posho restaurant in a country hotel.

The food was pretty average but the prices made yer eyes water.

It wasnae busy, although I did recognise the occupants of three of the tables – all members of the legal profession in Aberdeen.

The restaurant had prices on lawyers could afford

In my review, I said something along the lines of : “No wonder only lawyers can afford these prices.”

Fair enough, a bit naughty. But deffo true. Well, all hell broke loose when it hit the streets.

One of the wives of the legal eagles I’d recognised went particularly skite. Aye, skite as straight to the MD.

She demanded to know why lawyers were, totally unfairly, being highlighted as folk with so much dosh. (Having counted the cost of two divorces since then, I’d love to spell it oot to her right now.)

Bad result.

My then-boss decided future dining reviews would alert the venues first. Bein’ a Bolshie lot, the features department writers a’ refused to do ony mair (usually in oor spare time, ok with expenses) because it made a mockery of the whole concept.

End result; Mo’s controversial review got the whole jing-bang of restaurant write-ups cancelled for about five years.

So why, you may ask, are ye bangin’ on aboot this today?

First of all, I need to declare restaurant vouchers are my all-time best Christmas presents – to get and give. Superb to use during the year for places you go regularly, or affa expensive.

So me and a pal went to one last week, which I won’t name for all of the above reasons.

We were using a voucher for a £25.50 two-person, two-course plus prosecco I’d got at Christmas, but had to be used before the end of March.

Mo enjoyed her prosecco at least. Image: Shutterstock

Now that riled me for a start. Why such a wee window? The cheapest white wine was £35 – wowser, about £10 more than we usually pay.

Went for mains and desserts. Both opted for the same fish we used to adore during holidays in the south of France – huge and filleted at the table for about £10 each.

Sadly, what we got was like a measly half, if not a third, of a whole.

Gollupped in seconds. Fine but nae enough. The puddings were nice. Then the bill for the wine and two free meals but an extra £5 for each of us for service charge.

Sorry, but for what we had, that’s taking the Michael.

Embarrassing it might have been, but I got the £10 taken off, then paid oor ain tips. Just as well I wisnae writing a review aboot it here today!


Moreen Simpson is a former assistant editor of the Evening Express and The Press and Journal and started her journalism career in 1970


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