Ask George: Have you ever not written about a restaurant for fear of it getting too busy and the restaurant suffering because of it?

The question surfaced after a recent Instagram reel in which a creator explained why he was criticized for shining a spotlight on favorite under-the-radar restaurants—specifically Jack Nolen’s in Soulard and Monte Bello Pizzeria in Lemay. His detractors argued that by sharing these hidden gems, he was helping turn them into overcrowded hotspots.

It’s a debate that has followed food writers for as long as people have been seeking out great places to eat. We’ve all heard some version of the same plea: “Please don’t write about ________. It’s hard enough to get a table already.” The implication is that keeping a great restaurant a secret somehow protects it, along with the diners lucky enough to know about it.

We’re all familiar with the Yogi Berra quote, “Nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.” And dining critics (and editors) are occasionally asked not to write about certain under-the-radar joints, lest the place become overrun and lose its mojo. But have accolades, crowds, or pleas ever stopped a food scribe from writing an article or review? Not likely. Unearthing the hidden gems is part of our job.

So can a restaurant suffer—or even shut down—after receiving a superlative accodade? Is a rec from Andrew Zimmern, Guy Fieri—or even a local or regional food writer—a boon or the kiss of death?

Locally, several restaurants have received major accolades (both local and national) and not only survived but thrived. For years, Tony’s received major plaudits (AAA Five Diamond and Mobil Five Star awards) and never flinched at all the deserved attention. The same could be said for Louie and Wright’s Tavern, busy-since-Day 1 establishments that continue to excel and impress.

Pappy’s Smokehouse became a destination almost immediately when it opened in 2008. The long lines became part of the experience. The queue became its own social gathering, where business was conducted, stories were shared, and strangers became friends. To stay ahead of the demand, co-founder Mike Emerson’s philosophy was to “always have one more staffer than I needed.”

Almost to the minute that sister restaurant Bogart’s Smokehouse opened its doors, it was listed as a “one to watch” in a national publication. Emerson, co-owner Skip Steele, and company responded by cobbling together picnic tables on a then-makeshift patio in anticipation of the crowds that did, in fact (and immediately), materialize.

Ted Drewes Frozen Custard has been praised locally and nationally for years. Drewes’ incredible organization and service model remains a textbook case of how to manage an invariably long line.

For nearly 70 years, despite decades of great press, the line for the 16 stools at Carl’s Drive-In has been self-regulating, as there’s only enough space inside to stand one deep. Fans of the incredibly popular Red’s Eats in Wiscasset, Maine, know the line time from how far the queue stretches down the sidewalk toward the river.   

When celeb chef Dave Chang recommends an undiscovered, hole-in-the-wall joint in his Dave Chang Show podcast, he does so reluctantly, encouraging listeners to be understanding if the place is packed and the service is slow as a result of his rec.

Decades ago, St. Louis Post-Dispatch dining critic Joe Pollack would give a heads-up (as in “you might want to staff up”) before running a glowing review.

In any case, established restaurants should welcome (and be in a position to handle) any big boost in business—no matter the source—while the newbies need to formulate a plan for the day it (hopefully) happens.

Editor’s Note: This article was updated from an earlier version.

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