Who Knows Their ABC's? L.A.'s Letter-Rating System Discussed

Well, it started out with the paragraph below.

"In pursuit of this post, I am soliciting from you, readers, any verifiable sighting of a 'D' or an 'F.' I do not believe these to exist, but will pay handsomely if you show me otherwise. And the cabinet in the cops' lounge on 'The Shield' absolutely does not count."

Then, came this:

"[UPDATE] Oh, man. The comments on this intro are better by far than whatever i was going to write on this topic. Go to the comments and read the exchange between 'c' and 'anonymous' (If they're ever going to succeed in the world of wrestling, they'll both need better stage-names). Others should feel free to write in, too, although i can't guarantee your safety.

And here's the angle I was going to work, if people need more prodding to write in: how much does a letter grade affect where you eat? Does the same letter mean something different if you see it at Oki Dog than it does festooning the front door of Dolce, especially if it's a low grade? Do you really feel like the letters accurately represent your risk of food-borne illness (bear in mind that, at one point, All-American Burger on Sunset had an 'A' while Luna Park sported a bright-red 'C,' which, if the system is to be believed, would mean that you run a greater risk of being felled by a grilled artichoke at LP than a teriyaki 'steak' burrito at AAB)? "

I'm not sure if I got lazy or if I realized this would be more interesting as a straight discussion than as another collection of my own snarky comments. Whichever, even in a short time I've gotten to where it was I wanted to go in the first place, and 90% through a few readers' comments. My points, basically, were going to be: (1) Very few people know how the grading system works, which is odd for a measure that's supposed to protect the public's health through instantly recognizable signage. On the other hand, ER visits for food-borne illness have declined by something like 13% since the advent of this system, so there may very well be something to it (I've also seen data correlating stork population with birth rate, though, so I'm a skeptic). (2) Whether or not anyone knows what the letters mean, many will weigh the grades differently, depending on the restaurant sporting them. For example, on reader wrote in and told me he specifically chose a Palmdale Salvadoran joint based solely on its "D" rating (others have written in debating whether such a grade can exist, or if anywhere that scores below a "C" has to exhibit its admittedly-a-bit-frightening numerical score). Would that anonymous commentator have made the same choice had he driven past Bastide and seen the same letter (all prices being equal)? "Honey, let's check out this $200-a-head-before-drinks cutting-edge French place: it's FILTHY!" Yeah, it doesn't sounds likely to me, either. On the other hand, I'm betting if you had a res at Bastide and when you showed up you saw a low grade, you might not turn away because of it. It's a tough table to get, and the scarlet letter would be explained away if you asked (surly inspector, nonsense infractions, here's some free aperitifs while you decide if you want to stay). Would you really vote down what you'd been led to believe was one of the best high-end meals in town based on a paper sign with a block letter on it?

So in the end, do the letters tell us anything useful? Do we ignore them at our peril? The same folks who pop into the run-down greasy-spoon on the highway (me, for one--and my favorite is still the Liberty Diner which was on my drive from Upstate to Manhattan) because it very often has the best food will most likely use the letters in reverse, at least in certain cases--I wonder if food poisoning is up among that group, since they have easier access to something they used to have to rely on instinct for.

Frankly, the letters are ridiculous. In New York, places with too many violations get a warning and then get shut down until they clean up. It's nice and binary there. Here, you're made to think you're in possession of better intelligence, but really you're just being given a measurement of how fast the staff can run to throw away the tuna that's next to the space heater, or of the inspector's mood. Or maybe of the overall cleanliness and healthiness of the prepping-and-serving environment, but no one know what infractions are embedded in, say, a "B" that lasts a single week. A rat? Peanuts in a bowl on the bar (Luna Park claimed this was the source of their "C")? Anthrax spores that turned out to be $200-an-ounce salt distilled from the armpits of a Moroccan 12-year-old? I mean, it's impossible to know.

But they obviously make people feel safer, and isn't that really the point? Authentic Cafe--the place that many consider to be the epicenter of the whole thing (a prep cook there was secretly filmed while tossing a salad and licking his fingers and the film was played on the local news) is open for business and has even opened a lounge next to their dining room. Briefly avoided, Authentic is now thriving again. Now that people can walk up to the door and inspect the comforting-blue "A" posted front and center, telling everyone it's okay, the seared tuna salad has not been licked by anyone until it's served to your table. Just watch your finger-licking friends. Hey--maybe that's what we need: letter grades we all carry around that tell everyone what kind of eaters we are. Now that's a system I could get behind.

Ok, now read the comments, and add yours.