According to Miroslav Lekeš, Czech gastronomy is on the right track, but it is still missing something to reach the very pinnacle of the world stage. In this interview, the head of Gault&Millau for the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Hungary discusses fluctuations in quality, the overvaluation of fine dining, the growing popularity of bistros, and why guests and restaurants still do not fully understand one another. He also explains why, paradoxically, a high rating can actually harm a restaurant.
Looking back at the second edition of Gault&Millau in the Czech Republic, what has surprised you most about Czech gastronomy over the past year?
I suppose you could generalise a bit. Gastronomy never ceases to surprise. I’m a bit disappointed that quite a few establishments have fluctuations in quality. On the one hand, I understand that maintaining a certain standard isn’t easy, but on the other hand, it’s worth noting that this applies to all sectors, not just gastronomy. The truth is that sometimes all it takes is for management to let their guard down a little, and the natural human instinct is to simplify everything and look for shortcuts. But then it’s the guest who pays the price.
On the other hand, it’s encouraging that there’s a growing appetite for opening new businesses—not just restaurants, but also the increasingly popular bistros and similar establishments.
In the 2026 guide, the number of restaurants reviewed has increased significantly. During your travels around the regions, did you come across anything that you feel the Czech gastronomic public still overlooks?
Certainly. Both the public and the media overlook simplicity and authenticity in dishes. In our view, the image of gastronomy is currently centred on fine dining or the pursuit of local ingredients, which aren’t available in sufficient quantities here for all restaurants to be able to afford them.
That’s why one should also appreciate high-quality preparation, and sometimes friendly staff can enhance the experience far more. This becomes a restaurant’s hidden gem, and in my long-term assessment of a restaurant, it’s precisely what people remember. In this respect, I find the regions more interesting.
Three Czech restaurants already have four toques. What do you think Czech gastronomy is still missing to reach the very pinnacle of the world?
Unfortunately, the final stretch is the steepest. Every detail counts there. The Gault&Millau guide is based on many criteria relating to location, accessibility, interior, service, concept, and of course the cuisine, the wine list, non-alcoholic drinks, and so on. Achieving the highest quality in all these areas is very difficult.
In the Czech Republic, I’d say it would take a so-called “dream restaurant”, which could be pieced together from around four or five real restaurants that, combined, would total five toques. In any case, that doesn’t mean they couldn’t reach the very top in the future.
And what is the biggest weakness of Czech restaurants today—one that a guest might not recognise at first glance?
It’s actually more to do with the interaction between the guest and the restaurant. Guests don’t give feedback. Chefs don’t go round the tables to ask for it. Guests feel shy and afraid—after all, famous chefs say that criticism is out of place, that they work under pressure… My view: well, who doesn’t?
So there are still two worlds here: the guest and the kitchen. The customer gives feedback on the spot by paying the bill, or perhaps leaving a tip out of a sense of obligation. So the guest doesn’t realise a lot of things and takes them for granted. And since the guest says nothing, the restaurant is fine with that. These two worlds still don’t understand one another… But that’s what the media and restaurant guides are for—to glorify the guests a little, not the restaurants.
The very word “GUEST” tells us who this service is for.
Can a high rating sometimes, paradoxically, do a restaurant more harm than good?
I’d say that happens quite often. If we reflect on our own behaviour, in many cases at top-rated restaurants we tend to look for faults rather than something that might pleasantly surprise us. Conversely, at lower-rated establishments, we allow ourselves to be surprised because we don’t have such high expectations.
That’s why we, too, try to explain to restaurants that a higher rating could actually do them a disservice. I think you can tell from some reviews in other guides that the restaurants in question are a bit uneasy in their role as award-winners.
In your view, are Czech diners willing to pay for truly top-class cuisine, or do they still expect good food to be “good value for money”?
Unfortunately, restaurant guests are unable to work out what the restaurant’s costs are. But that’s only natural, as there’s fierce competition, and trying to attract customers with low prices is probably the easiest approach.
I’m sceptical about this, and it will mainly depend on people’s economic circumstances, which determine how much money I’ll set aside for “non-essential” things that I can manage without—which is what a visit to a more expensive restaurant is.
To what extent does the head chef’s personality influence a restaurant today? And can an establishment maintain its rating in the long term if its key chef leaves?
Within Gault&Millau, the chef as a person is important, but not as crucial as in a rival guide. There, the chef usually takes the “star rating” with them, and the restaurant must find a suitable replacement so as not to lose the rating. We try to assess a restaurant from multiple angles and, above all, from the guest’s perspective. However, if the head chef leaves, we give the restaurant the chance to find a new one and wait a while to see how this affects the restaurant as a whole.
Gault&Millau is also placing greater emphasis on the POP category this year. What do Czech bistros, cafés and other informal establishments tell you about how the expectations of Czech diners are changing?
I could talk for hours about the POP category. I see it as something that has emerged quite naturally—driven by demand, particularly amongst the younger generation. I’m very interested to see how this category will develop—whether chains or franchised businesses will emerge, whether they’ll set up their own restaurant branches, or whether they’ll simply operate for as long as there’s demand and then disappear, which is how it works at the moment.
The “mortality rate” of these businesses is high, but that’s only natural; it’s better than keeping a loss-making restaurant open, which is common practice. Gault&Millau will be mapping this scene more closely, and this will already be reflected in the 2027 guide. An online database will be crucial for us, so that we can respond more quickly to changes in this category.
Autumn is the season for local produce, mushrooms, game, root vegetables and fermentation. Do you think that the ability to work with seasonality is one of the differences between a good restaurant and a truly exceptional one?
I don’t entirely agree. It’s certainly an attractive proposition for customers, but sometimes I get the feeling that restaurants are making things unnecessarily difficult for themselves. If they haven’t been working with that ingredient over the long term, they won’t be able to handle it. In this case, foreign cookbooks and other tips are helpful, but sometimes you can really tell. When I visit a restaurant where I have the chance to try a seasonal dish and a traditional one that’s almost always on the menu, the choice is clear.
But it’s not uncommon for some seasonal dishes to be signature dishes.
If you had to name one thing today that you’d like to see changed in Czech gastronomy within a year, what would it be?
More optimism among culinary role models and less self-pity about being head chefs.
