­On a recent Friday night at Scaramouche, Keith Froggett’s 42-year-old jewel in midtown, we had white asparagus and filet mignon and grilled octopus. The meal, paired with French, local and California wine and finished with a vanilla meringue, was impeccable, divine: expertly presented and prepared, fastidiously plated and sourced, elegant in execution and idea. Is it enough for a Michelin? The highest prize in global cooking that’s finally being awarded in Toronto? Froggett and Carolyn Reid, Scaramouche’s current executive chef, who has worked with the British legend for 27 years, aren’t certain.

“I’ve spent most of my career cooking in Toronto and we never had a Michelin guide. I used to use it when I’d go travelling, but would I look at it today? Probably not so much,” says Froggett, who took over the Scaramouche kitchen from Jamie Kennedy and Michael Stadtlander in 1983 and has guided it through excellence ever since. “I don’t think the Michelin star coming to Toronto is a negative thing. I think it’s a positive thing, but are we craving a Michelin star? No. I’m more worried about bums in seats.”

Bums in seats, of course, is the top concern of every local restaurateur in the first post-COVID summer of our global discontent. Froggett, when discussing the pandemic’s effect on his restaurant, downright cringes when mentioning his fine dining pivot to delivery.

“It was depressing looking at a dark dining room and all those packages. I hated everything about putting the food in boxes and losing control,” Froggett admits, though he’s also quick to credit his younger staff with figuring out the delivery apps and streamlined system for processing and sending out orders. “I understand why we had to do takeout, but I really disliked it and, for me, it’s about inviting people in your house.”

The house, however, currently isn’t what it once was, and this is a COVID symptom not just affecting Scaramouche, but every restaurant in Toronto, big and small.

The employment crisis, which affects restaurants’ inability to attract young talent, is requiring some of the city’s biggest chefs to work the line, including our boldest names, like Alo’s Patrick Kriss and the legendary Susur Lee.

Carolyn Reid, who writes the menus at Scaramouche — which no longer include daily specials — says sourcing ingredients has become an impossible quest and items like Australian lamb, quail, John Dory fish and even simpler items like midwestern American ham are no longer available. It’s the reason why so many Toronto menus read the same: the restaurants are serving whatever they have.

“Why are you doing the Michelin star when we’re still in the pandemic and restaurants aren’t back on their feet and head chefs are having to work stations because they can’t find staff and there’s massive supply chain issues? Why do it now?” says Reid, who got her start working for Jamie Kennedy and describes her last two years as undoubtedly the toughest of her long career. “To be considered for the Michelin star is great, but have I been at Michelin-starred restaurants and been disappointed? For sure, and it’s so subjective. How do you compare apples and cherries and lemons? Especially when our access to products is getting smaller and I think the timing is ridiculous. Why can’t I get a ham?”

Plenty of vocal Toronto food voices have spoken out against the Michelin stars’ arrival in the city, claiming it’s elitist and even racist, as the French tire company’s rating system tends to favour white-gloved, white-owned restaurant fare.

Jen Agg, owner of Bar Vendetta and frequent Scaramouche customer, recently quoted Anthony Bourdain in the Globe and Mail in a piece against the Michelin star, claiming, in essence: Who needs it? The answer, however, might be that we all do, and Keith Froggett raised the ultimate point: the Michelin star brings attention to dining in the city, and whoever does win the prize, even if it’s being awarded at a time when local restaurants are working with one spatula tied behind their back, helps create attention and buzz. Attention and buzz create cocktail and entrée receipts, and that, as we enter the patio season and the launch of CaféTO, keeps our beloved dining establishments running.

At Scaramouche, the staffing is thin and the selection is limited, but the octopus is every bit as refined as it once was, when Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton enjoyed the upscale cuisine. Keith Froggett, the elder statesman of Toronto food, says restaurants in the city are currently managing significant problems that have everyone in the kitchen and front office on their toes. The Michelin star, then, generating attention this summer, is like a curious firework in the distance, not something that affects chef’s beautiful, unwavering home.

“Some chefs in Toronto might be disappointed if they don’t get the Michelin, and some are motivated by that recognition, but it won’t change the way we approach what we do,” he says. “I think it’s a positive thing for the city, but at the end of the day, it’s just another guide.”