A white horse is not a horse (and a Michelin-star restaurant is not a restaurant)

There is a paradox in ancient Chinese philosophy known as “When a white horse is not a horse.” Because of how brief the passage is, there are many different interpretations based on semantics, logic, and so on. The most extreme way to interpret the statement would be this: Not only a white horse is not the same thing as a horse — a white horse is not even a type of horse. This is my position on how the statement should be read. I don’t think it was a philosophical debate when it happened. It was a statement about white horses, perhaps by someone who was annoyed by the unearned elevated status of white horses over horses of other colors.

It is similar to this statement: Theme parks are not parks.

In that when you say “park,” most people won’t picture a theme park unless you specify “theme park.” That’s what I think Gongsun Long meant when he said “白马非马”.

And here is my 21st-century version of this statement: Michelin-star restaurants are not restaurants.

Technically, they are a restaurant. In practice, they are as much a restaurant as a Costco or a food truck, in that if you make a plan with someone to go out to a restaurant without telling them it’s a Michelin star restaurant, your friend would be as surprised as if you told them it’s a Costco or a food truck, perhaps even more so.

Of course, I am talking colloquially here. I know that the car tire company has made an effort to appear more grounded and include cheap-ish eateries on their list. But when you say a Michelin-star restaurant, people are generally picturing something similar to the movie The Menu.

Yes, I do have a bone to pick with Micheline star restaurants. The exaggerated pampering makes me uncomfortable. There is always a 2-in-1 tension between the staff and the eater. I said 2-in-1 because, with some hyperbole, the experience for the eater is often both being a slave owner who needs their chair shoved in when they sit down and also an uneducated buffoon who doesn’t know a squeezed duck juice from their wine X and Y.

At a Michelin restaurant, the experience is a larger part than the eating part, meaning the tasting chewing, and swallowing. It is not a restaurant in the sense that a birthday cake is not a meal.

And this is not a sour grape or a rich bashing essay. I don’t hate Michelin-star restaurants, I just do not enjoy them as restaurants. I don’t enjoy going to one as a way to enjoy food. I don’t mind theme parks as well, but they are exhausting and are pretty much an antithesis to the very idea of parks.

The best eating experiences I’ve ever had are when I manage to obtain what I am craving at the time. As long as the food was competently and freshly prepared, it’s usually already automatically a 6 or a 7 out of 10. Extra points can be gained if I am hungry, perhaps from a workout; if I am drunk; if I am with friends; and if the surroundings are relaxing and comfortable. All of which are very difficult to align with a Michelin-star restaurant visit.

The best experience I’ve ever had at a fancy restaurant was maybe a 7. If I had run 10 miles beforehand, maybe I would have enjoyed it more, or if I watched some promotional videos of the restaurant leading up to it to induce anticipation, maybe. But why would I do all this extra work just to try to maximize the experience? An 8 or a 9 that happens organically is just as good or maybe even better, because they are organic and don’t involve extra planning!

The dining time is also generally too long, with too many courses. (I said generally!) A tasting menu is never as good as a nice set meal. Don’t agree? What if I switch out the word “good” for “satisfying”? A tasting menu is never as satisfying as eating a nice plate or bowl of food with a balanced portion of protein (usually meat), veggies, and carbs. I think this is also the reason why a buffet meal always feels a bit off, and a greatest hit album always feels a bit cheaper than an original LP. End of rant.