Jing Zhao Yin
The more I dine at fine dining establishments, the more I believe that understanding a restaurant should not be one-dimensional.
Tastes may vary widely, but undeniably, successful restaurants are those that the market recognizes as valuable over the long term. This means: accolades from prestigious lists like Michelin and Black Pearl, and their underlying jury systems; a large and stratified clientele; and sustainable, long-term operations that go beyond the fleeting fame of a two-month internet sensation.
By these criteria, Jing Zhao Yin is without a doubt a restaurant recognized for its value by the market: nearly a decade of operation near Yonghe Temple, consecutive three-star ratings since the launch of the Beijing Michelin Guide, and nearly fifteen thousand reviews on Dianping - a significant number for a high-end establishment.
Before visiting, I was forwarded two critical reviews by well-known figures in the culinary world. Their central grievances included:
1. Overemphasis on Michelin star ratings in various displays.
2. Some dishes lacking in culinary traces or mimicking meat dishes.
3. A preachy tone in promoting vegetarianism.
I concur with these points factually, but I don't share the strong discomfort that these reviewers felt. In fact, I believe that these aspects may be precisely what a significant portion of the clientele seeks.
To truly understand Jing Zhao Yin, one must consider the restaurant's unique culture, positioning, and customer base structure:
1. "Second-generation restaurateur" takes charge. As a quasi-family business, Jing Zhao Yin is rare in China’s fine dining scene, with the owner and executive chef being the same person. The chef, young with an overseas background and a business degree, may exercise stronger control over the restaurant.
2. A higher proportion of clients who are "wealthy, gastronomically inexperienced, but easily impressed." Its geographical location within a quadrangle compound in the second ring of Beijing caters to a different market than Shanghai, with more customers who are affluent, perhaps less food-savvy, but easily impressed. Thus, the focus isn't so much on the food itself but on creating an "impressive" experience.
3. A mission to spread vegetarianism. Jing Zhao Yin's commitment to promoting vegetarianism is stronger than other high-end vegetarian restaurants, often emphasizing it in details, from napkins and glass etchings to restroom ads. I understand this from a mission perspective, but it can indeed cause some patrons to feel "preached to."
Rather than comparing Jing Zhao Yin with other high-end vegetarian restaurants, it might be more apt to categorize it alongside experiences like UV. Jing Zhao Yin presents an "immersive quadrangle vegetarian experience." A tiny minority of gourmets who are well-versed in high-end dining might find it unremarkable, but they make up less than 5% of the affluent consumer base. The broader market is willing and even eager to pay a premium for such immersive experiences, especially on special occasions.
To justify a steep price point for a fully vegetarian meal, Jing Zhao Yin has made considerable efforts:
1. Showcasing Michelin stars in all aspects. Like the premium associated with luxury brands, the price reflects not only relative costs but, more fundamentally, the law of supply and demand. The brand's history, perceived scarcity, and the dreams it evokes are the more enthralling parts of the story.
2. Decorative and detailed dishes that are photogenic and come with extensive explanations, giving the impression of abundance, expense, and health. I do agree, however, that the presentation could be improved and the narration is sometimes overdone.
3. Building the IP of the Yin family, especially the chef. The future of high-end dining will undoubtedly be more personality-driven, with the restaurant's character often embodied in a singular figure. Balancing the chef's image with minimizing personal attacks is a challenge.
Despite current market recognition, Jing Zhao Yin must keep pace with the evolving market and its maturing clientele. The high-end culinary world is too insulated, focusing on niche excellence without embracing broader concepts from adjacent industries like luxury goods and upscale hotels. There's much to learn and improve upon, including not rejecting commercial approaches.
With representatives like Chef Yin Hao, who bring higher education and backgrounds to the industry, a new generation may well introduce fresh perspectives to this insular field.
