Days before the doors had officially opened at Nobu Toronto in August, TikTok was already inundated with videos documenting a night out at the luxury Japanese restaurant chain’s first Canadian outpost. “See the little flowers on there?” one influencer says , holding a blossom-garnished salmon taco so close to her phone’s camera that it goes out of focus. Another pans over tightly wrapped maki rolls and says, “I think we probably got the two most basic rolls, but I love a California roll.
” Some videos are wordless montages set to music by PartyNextDoor or The Kid LAROI: sweeping shots of the restaurant’s swanky interior, a few seconds where the camera lingers over an overexposed plate of Nobu’s signature miso-marinated black cod. Ten years ago, the big media get for a restaurant like Nobu would have been a rave review in a city magazine or newspaper. But the food media landscape has been completely overhauled.
Influencers’ brief videos about restaurants have supplanted the 1,000-word verdicts from the critics who prided themselves in maintaining their anonymity, distancing themselves from chefs and restaurateurs and paying for their own meals. This changing of the guard has made restaurant coverage far more inclusive and accessible, highlighting the immigrant-run eateries and fast food joints that were seldom covered by traditional critics. But it’s also raised questions of who gets to call themselves a critic.
Plenty of food influencers derive some or all .
