One more year, the Michelin Guide continues to distribute stars among restaurants, illuminating some kitchens brilliantly while others face shadows of doubt. The guide began in 1900 as a promotional tool by the tire company, encouraging more driving and tire sales. It soon evolved beyond a mere advertisement, becoming a renowned authority on dining, shaping reputations and guiding diners as much as wheels. This is the story of that evolution.
Spain joined the Michelin star universe in 1974, a year after the guide was reissued in the country. Later, in 1997, a law governing the guide would be repealed. From the first edition, Donostiarra, Arzak, stood among the notable names. In 1975, Vía Veneto in Barcelona appeared among the starred restaurants. The Guide Rouge would later acknowledge Oviedo’s celebrated restaurant on San Francisco Avenue, confirming its own history, even if some decisions reflected institutional priorities more than culinary justice from decades past.
Who truly chases the stars? The answer often lies in the job market and the opaque criteria that inspectors use or who holds influence over nominations. Sometimes it comes down to opportunism. Renowned venues like Fruit Garden and the Ribadesella restaurant prove that stars are not a prerequisite to loyal clientele or a long-standing prestige earned through steady work. José Manuel Viejo and Rosa Ruisánchez’s establishments, and Güeyu Mar on Playa de Vega, illustrate this reality. They illustrate that acclaim can be built without Michelin stars, driven by consistent quality and devoted followings.
Michelin’s allure also draws ambitious chefs, big and small, seeking a mirror of trends and a path to recognition. The guide holds influence in both knowledge and economy, shaping conversations about what to eat and where to go. Its rules, though opaque at times, are understood as guiding principles that aim to highlight excellence while leaving room for interpretation. In theory, stars are awarded to restaurants, not to individual chefs; if a head chef departs, the star may not travel with them, though real-world cases sometimes complicate this rule.
Often, a chef’s departure coincides with a restaurant losing its star, yet the chef can regain recognition at a new venue, sometimes before proving anything in the new kitchen. This year, notable instances included Eduardo Salanova in Huesca and Andreu Genestra in Mallorca, illustrating how the star system can shift with changing leadership.
Chance
Michelin functions as a business opportunity, trend amplifier, and cultural signal. It isn’t surprising that New York and Tokyo, once considered gastronomic backwaters, appeared on the list in the mid-2000s. Before then, the focus had been more local. The Guide Rouge offers solid recommendations, yet its absence of stars for certain venues and the occasional surprise prize draw have long been part of the narrative. Names echo in the discourse, yet it remains difficult for any inspection to cover every kitchen. Spain has seen only a few restaurants progress from one star to two, highlighting the difficulty of reaching the upper tiers and the evolving taste landscape. The rise of traditional cuisines under young, well-educated chefs—who bring freshness without discarding heritage—adds a dynamic layer to the scene. When modern, imaginative dishes replace repetitive presentation, diners notice the difference, and interest grows—sometimes abruptly.
Good news from the Red Guide is Asturias’ continued strong showing. Casa Gerardo, led by Pedro and Marcos Morán in Prendes, is among the oldest Spanish restaurants featured in the publication, signaling a durable career. Nacho Manzano and the NM team have shaped the region’s culinary identity, while Vasco’s notable restaurant earned a star after Oviedo’s prior absence. Other establishments in the Oviedo area, such as Casa Fermín and Trascorrales, have also contributed to a regional culinary narrative that keeps expanding. The emergence of new ventures in Gijón, inspired by Marcos Granda, suggests a steady magnetism drawing in ambitious openings that promise to push boundaries in their own way.
Looking ahead, several restaurants appear poised to gain recognition for their distinct strengths. Martino, a respected figure in Asturian cuisine, Regueiro, Diego Fernández’s refined and technical approach to Asian influence at Tox, and Farragua, constantly drawing on Extremadura inspiration from Ricardo Señoran in Gijón, stand out. Natalia Menéndez of Casa Chuchu (Turón) continues to evolve, and the recent success of Alenda (Selorio Castle, Villaviciosa) under chef Iñaki Gomez adds another compelling thread. Even younger talents, like Alejandro Villa of Pandora’s Cage in Avilés, are on this rising trajectory, inviting renewed attention to the region’s culinary depth.