AMMERSCHWIHR, France -- Chef Philippe Gaertner's kitchen is a hectic place most days. On a recent morning, he was running from stovetop to countertop and rapidly chopping potatoes. But there was an extra buzz at his Aux Armes de France restaurant in this village near the German border.

One of France's top chefs, Alain Sanderens, owner of the exclusive Lucas Carton restaurant in Paris, had just announced he was renouncing his three-star rating from the famed Michelin Guide. Mr. Sanderens was the third French chef in the past year to say he didn't want his star anymore -- a trend without precedent in the guide's 100-year history.

Mr. Gaertner was feeling especially pleased because he had been the second to forsake the prized rating, spurning his single star in April. The first to rebel was Chef Rene Judy-Berges, owner of the Relais Saint Victoire hotel-restaurant in Provence, who renounced his star in May 2004.

"I'm going to call Mr. Sanderens this afternoon to congratulate him on his courage," Mr. Gaertner said to those working around him.

The Michelin Guide has been the arbiter of restaurant dining in Europe since the years after World War II, deeming a select few eateries outstanding and many others just ordinary. In European gastronomical circles, it is known simply as "the bible." Even today, many chefs say, winning a Michelin star can boost business as much as 30 percent.

The guide has been losing influence of late among what is perhaps its most important audience: France's leading chefs. Mr. Gaertner says he and an increasing number of colleagues are tired of catering to the guide's high-brow and rigid standards, which they say has become too costly. Michelin refuses to fully disclose its ratings criteria -- another gripe against the guide. Star-winning restaurants often follow a pattern, with a professional but impersonal wait staff serving numerous courses of extravagant dishes -- at a hefty price. Disgruntled chefs say the Michelin recipe is simply no longer what many of their customers want.

"Clients are changing," Mr. Gaertner says. "They want food that is more accessible."

The assault on Michelin's mystique in France comes at a sensitive time for its guide, which will make its first bold expansion outside of Europe this year. In November, it plans to publish a New York guide, venturing into what is arguably the world's most competitive restaurant-review market. If all goes well, San Francisco will follow.

The expansion comes as the guide's readership is down. Michelin, published by the French tire maker Michelin SA, says it sold slightly fewer than one million copies of its guides around the world in 2004, down about 5 percent from 2003. It attributes the decline in part to a shift by customers to new ways the company is delivering the guides' information, such as on cellphones and other new media, as well as increased competition.

Indeed, the thick, red-cover guide is facing an increasingly crowded field in Europe, its main market. In addition to traditional rivals such as Gault Millau, it must contend with slicker new mass-appeal titles, such as a French-language Paris edition of the reader-friendly Zagat series that rates restaurants based on comments from patrons.

The French chefs' rebellion is the latest blow. Renouncing a star is partly a symbolic act -- Michelin says only it can take a restaurant out of its guides, and that it reserves the right to retain the rebel restaurants in next year's edition. Still, the protests will have real effects, and not just on Michelin's public image. If chefs revolt against the guide, the restaurant industry will change and Michelin will likely follow. By dropping their attempt to match Michelin-style standards and going for less expensive menus and fewer waiters, Messrs. Gaertner and Sanderens say they expect to lose their stars in 2006. Still, Michelin says it plans to send judges to inspect their restaurants.

The backlash comes after the guide suffered several public-relations embarrassments over the past few years, including Chef Bernard Loiseau's suicide in 2003 amid rumors his restaurant, La Cote d'Or, was about to be downgraded to two stars from three (which didn't happen). Then came a tell-all book last year by former Michelin restaurant inspector Pascal Remy that claimed the quality of the inspection process had declined.

Michelin insists the process is rigorous. Each year, Michelin sends 70 judges to anonymously -- and repeatedly -- check the thousands of hotels and restaurants listed in 12 guides covering a total of 20 countries, all in Europe. Of the 30,000 restaurants the guides list, only 50 have the highest rating of three stars, 26 of those are in France. The vast majority of reviewed eateries get no stars. Michelin says a restaurant that rates one star or higher gets 10 to 12 inspection visits a year.

Still, Jean-Luc Naret, who was named to head the Michelin Guide in late 2003, says the operation needs to become "less mysterious" and that he is trying to persuade chefs there is no one "Michelin formula" they must follow. Last year, he sent out the guide's first-ever questionnaire, asking restaurant owners if they agreed with their ratings. He says 87 percent were happy with their rating.

In the 2005 guide, whose French edition is nearly 1,900 pages, a new "rising star" symbol appeared for the first time next to the names of restaurants that are on the brink of a star upgrade, in part to make the "thought process" behind the ratings more transparent, Mr. Naret says. Michelin says the ratings ultimately come down to the quality of the food, but declines to reveal its criteria in full.

Michelin isn't just relying on persuasion -- it's fighting back against chefs' charges in some instances. It contends that it took away Mr. Judy-Berges star because the quality of the food at his Relais Saint Victoire restaurant had diminished, not because he renounced his rating.

The guide has a long history. The tire maker first distributed it as a free handout in 1900, hoping to get drivers to put more miles on their tires by drawing them out of cities on longer trips. The Michelin star, denoting a nice place to stop for a meal, first appeared in 1926. It ultimately prompted chefs to push the limits of upscale gastronomy in hopes of nabbing a three-star rating.

In the 1980s, European chefs and restaurant critics began to whisper that sumptuous surroundings made the difference between a two- and three-star rating. Restaurants took to investing in the most expensive china, marble decors and elaborate fresh-flower arrangements. Three-star Chef Georges Blanc even built a helipad on his restaurant's grounds.

Restaurant costs soared, and the price of a meal followed. That way of doing business is over, say detractors. Mr. Gaertner says he no longer can afford to do the things he needs to do to maintain his one-star rating.

"Wild turbot costs 38 euros ($45) a kilo," he says, referring to the fish he used to feature in one of his expensive dishes. Instead, "I can use high-quality local ingredients, and I have more customers because my prices are lower." Now that Mr. Gaertner no longer is catering to the guide, the price of a typical meal at his restaurant has fallen to $36 from $84 and business is improving, he says.

Mr. Sanderens, the Lucas Carton chef who said he would forego his three stars in May, likens the guide to an old grandmother. "The world changes, business changes, art changes," he says. But, in the Michelin-dominated food world, "we've had the same idea for 100 years. I find that abnormal."

Yet the guides will be trying some new ideas in New York City. The New York edition will include format changes that include more pictures and more descriptions. While denying the flagship French guide is fuddy-duddy, Mr. Naret admits the traditional Michelin approach would be a tough sell in the U.S.

The new guide's picks will prove that Michelin is able to rate restaurants in new ways, Mr. Naret says. The New York guide "will show French people and New Yorkers that you don't have to have old decor, 10 waiters at each table and the best silver" to be a three-star Michelin restaurant, he says.

While Michelin won't say how it will rate New York eateries, Mr. Naret concedes: "If we brought