Why is the Michelin Guide launching in Saudi Arabia?

Spectator

4 hours ago

Having only a short time ago been synonymous with the terrors of its Wahabiist regime, the temptations and pleasures of Saudi Arabia now seem to know no bounds. Whether it's Emily Maitlis crooning over the feel of her all-covering abaya as she slips into the Jeddah market, Boris and Carrie Johnson posting pics of their brood in sun-kissed repose on one of the Kingdom's newly opened (but still booze-free) Red Sea resorts, the fanfare and billions swirling around the desert city of AlUla or any number of 'art practitioners' flying in for a calendar packed with Biennales, art fairs and exhibitions, you'd think this truly was the freest, easiest, and most stimulating cultural cornucopia on earth.
Michelin seems the latest western outfit to be drunk on generous lashings of Saudi PR
And it most certainly does not stop there. The next stop on the western breathlessness train is food. The Michelin guide, founded in 1900, has just announced that its reviewers are setting to work on rating the best the Kingdom has to offer.
To read the press release you'd be forgiven for thinking that every last edible morsel in Saudi Arabia is suffused not only with Michelin-starred quality but also shot through with gold-medal, never-before-seen warmth and friendliness. It's a weird message: on one hand, Michelin is meant to be impartial and severe, conjuring images of dowdy podgy reviewers who care only for excellence. On the other, Michelin seems the latest western outfit to be drunk on generous lashings of Saudi PR. Its 'destination partner' is the Saudi Arabia Culinary Arts Commission, one of dozens of state-funded bodies tasked with throwing money at its global seduction campaign.
It's working. 'The warmth and generosity of the Saudi people further enhance the travel experience, making every visitor feel welcome and valued,' gushes the release. 'From the heartwarming traditional Saudi restaurants keen to preserve and showcase recipes that have been handed down through the generations, to the always-packed restaurants, and jaw-dropping malls such as VIA Riyadh that feature renowned global brands.'
If the sound of eating in a mall is of limited appeal, especially for would-be Michelin-starred diners, then do not worry. 'Unforgettable experiences aplenty; be it kabsa in a Najd setting or Mubahar rice with the locals, fabulous mini cheese and honey glazed sambosas galore or a mouthwatering masabeeb, the generosity, pride, and hospitality remain firmly in the memory. Additionally, our inspectors observed an impressive culinary diversity, where American cuisine mingles with Japanese, Chinese, Greek, and Thai. Whether it's exceptional Saudi dishes or global favourites, Saudi Arabia offers something for every international traveller eager to explore the captivating sights while savouring the diverse culinary offerings.'
Wow. What a place! Paradise on earth. But where is the critical voice of Michelin in this excitable blather? Perhaps, like all the other excitable western cultural outfits suddenly 'discovering' Saudi Arabia, it is suspending its critical faculties. I do not know what role the deep pockets of the Kingdom may play in any such suspension, but what I do know is that it has begun to sound awfully familiar.
Perhaps it's just a mixture of good-old Arabism with a thrill of the new. I remember hearing that Abu Dhabi was paradise about 20 years ago: an expat's dream. I went to visit a friend who had moved there for work, while briefly considering taking a job at the National, its western-style newspaper. Bottomless brunch! A hive of activity! But I found the vast apartments my friends lived in poorly built and soulless in the extreme, and the bottomless brunches, in the dining rooms of corporate American hotel chains, truly grim. I don't think I've ever had a more depressing hangover than the one that crept upon me post-brunch as payback for all the Prosecco I had drunk to try to find that germ of fun.
Dubai, of course, is the biggest hype-machine in the Gulf. A few years ago, I decided to go and check it out, and see if perhaps I had dismissed it out of sheer snobbery. Maybe it would be delicious, fun, convenient, and buzzy like the world seemed to be saying. It was none of those things. It felt culturally third-rate, clapped out, held together with poor-quality materials that were ugly or bling or both; bisected by relentless overpasses and motorways, throttled with traffic, and full of expensive resorts whose raved-about restaurants served stuff London left behind in the 1990s.
Saudi Arabia may be different; its recent past is far more brutal than that of the Emirates, but it also has a longer, deeper culture beyond the frightful (and thankfully mellowing) tradition of Wahabiist Islam. I doubt the malls will be a nice place to eat, and as Saudi rides the wave of sudden admittance into the western travel and cultural canon, attention-grabbing restaurants and trend-drunk dishes will no doubt be numerous. But there will also be some interesting, delicious food that channels older skills and traditions. I just hope the Michelin guide has the time to find these amid all the dazzle.