Colin Camac (aka @resyguynyc) leads restaurant partnerships at Blackbird and is our resident insider’s insider. He is out on the town seven nights a week, sniffing out the city’s best joints, skateboard in one hand, martini in the other.

I had another really big few weeks of travel, hitting both Nashville and Charleston for work. I hit some old favorites in Charleston and got invited to check out one of the largest whiskey selections I have ever seen at an undisclosed location in Nashville. In between, I had some really amazing meals in NYC, hit my favorite traveling pop-up restaurant twice for two very different experiences, and shared a meal with one of the most talked-about chefs in the country at their restaurant.

New York/New Jersey

I Cavallini
📍Williamsburg
🍽️ Italian

I hadn’t been to I Cavallini since pretty early on, but after hanging out with a bunch of the team in Chicago a few weeks back, I made it my business to check it back out now that it has had some time to settle in. Both of my previous meals were really good, but this last one was the best of the bunch. Starting with a really fun melon-and-lardo skewer, leading into a perfectly restrained sardine w/ butter and tomato, which may have been my dish of the night. Well-grilled tripe paired nicely with spicy arugula was another confident plate that hit the spot. We finished off with what may be one of my favorite chicken dishes in the city, roasted and topped with slow-cooked garlic and jus.

Quique Crudo
📍West Village
🍽️ Mexican

It had been over a year since my last visit to Quique Crudo, the follow-up seafood-focused restaurant from Chef Cosme of Casa Enrique in LIC. My friend Lala (Put It In My Mouth Podcast) and an old friend of hers from LA joined me as a walk-in on the first steamy day of the heat wave. Coming inside from the inferno, all we wanted to do was eat amazing seafood, and we could not have found a better place. Top to bottom, an almost perfect meal. We started with the aguachile negro, which was a whole, live scallop in a deep soy & maggi chili sauce, an immediate highlight. The tostada de pulpo y camaron came next, which may be my favorite dish here. Caesar salad here is a must-order and possibly the best version I have ever had. Finally, the seared scallops with the chorizo, potatoes, and cashews are another great dish to round out the meal. Don’t miss the cheese ice cream for dessert, covered in honey.

Blackbird Presents Bacchanal @ Gertie
📍Prospect Heights
🍽️ Modern diner

When we had the opportunity to bring industry favorite Bacchanal from New Orleans to Gertie for the holiday weekend, we jumped at it, hosting a BBQ and some live music in the backyard. The event felt incredibly similar to the actual Bacchanal experience, and the shrimp the team brought in from down south were fantastic. A really fun event for a good cause, with a portion of each ticket sold going to the Independent Restaurant Coalition.

Rolo Dairy Bar and Superiority Burger @ Bread & Salt
📍Jersey City, New Jersey
🍽️ Pizza

Rolo Dairy Bar has been my favorite pop-up to follow recently. During the summer, they drag their 1950s trailer to breweries and parking lots all over, from Upstate NY to Jersey. For this pop-up, they collaborated with Superiority Burger and Bread & Salt, this time leaving the trailer behind, as they were all working out of the storefront. For this one, Rolo was making Italian-style Jersey hot dogs, several thousand-calorie bombs that are made with 2 fried hot dogs in a half moon of “pizza bread” topped with mustard, fried potatoes, onions & peppers. They were gloriously gluttonous and delicious all at once. The star of the show for me, though, was finally trying the insanely good pizza at Bread & Salt, charred and salty in the best way possible.

Ghost Hawk Brewery
📍Clifton, New Jersey
🍽️ Brewery

I ventured back out to Jersey again for a burger pop-up in the parking lot of Ghost Hawk Brewery. This time serving only burgers and ice cream, I decided to get the whole menu. While waiting for my burger, I highly recommend walking across the street for a few of the famous “rippers” from Rutt’s Hut served with their famous relish. The burger may have been one of the best I have had in a while, tavern style with a thick slice of seasoned onion on a kaiser bun. The meat was deeply flavored and had all the intense beefiness I want in a big burger. For the ice cream, I got a mix of all three flavors, overflowing from the small Dixie cup. A really fun mix of almond and licorice ice creams with some black cherry water ice.

Herring Fest @ Aquavit
📍Midtown
🍽️ Scandanavian/Nordic

Herring Fest at Aquavit is one of my absolute favorite yearly traditions. Every July, just as the new catch of Holland herring makes its hyperseasonal debut, Aquavit offers its herring lunch for a week-long celebration of this wonderfully oily fish. The meal starts with a herring bar featuring an all-you-can-eat assortment of herring in various marinades and sauces, followed by a few small bites with herring as the star. You then absolutely must get the add-on Holland herring, which may be one of my favorite dishes in the city; a fully filleted herring covered in brown butter, cubes of cheddar, red onion, and trout roe over a dab of sour cream. It is pure insanity for oily fish lovers.

Tatiana by Kwame Onwuachi
📍Upper West Side
🍽️ Afro-Caribbean

One of the most surprising meals I had happened at the very last minute when I had plans to meet my friend for dinner on a Friday night. We had been going back and forth all week about where to go when Tatiana was brought up. I offered to text a friend who worked there earlier in the week to see if there was any room, but we decided not to bother for a prime spot. The night before, with still no plans on the books, my friend texted me back to say we had a reservation and would be dining with the chef himself. I had met Kwame several times at events, especially over the last few weeks, but this was definitely more personal. We ended up having a great meal and even better conversation. We hit all of the favorites, but my favorite bites of the night were an off-menu crab rangoon egg roll topped with a huge dollop of caviar as well as the chicken with white sauce and an off-menu ribeye that was perfectly cooked. Such a fun night, and always great to learn about the people behind the food.

Charleston

Chubby Fish
📍Cannonborough
🍽️ Seafood

In town for a few quick meetings, I had to hit one of the best restaurants around. My colleagues and I were able to sneak our way into Chubby Fish for an absolutely insane feast on my first night in town. We hit a bunch of the classic bites up front: caviar sandwich, perfectly shucked oysters as well as the grilled curry ones, but when I saw the whole tuna collar on the menu, we knew what had to be done. We ordered the smaller of the two sizes, which was more than enough for the 3 of us, served with sushi rice, nori, and several sauces; we had a blast scraping the fatty morsels from the bone. One of the absolute best dishes around; always order the collar!

OK Donna
📍North Central
🍽️ Italian

On my last night in town, I met up with my good friends Dave & Tina from Kwei Fei and Beautiful South for a post-shift meal at OK Donna. It's a really fun new Italian spot with a dark, fun vibe. I really loved the super classic lasagna, grilled oysters, ribs, and a great chocolate mousse. It was the perfect spot to meet up with some old friends and eat way too much food.

Little Jack’s Tavern
📍Upper King
🍽️ American Tavern

Little Jack’s Tavern is one of my favorite places in the world to pull up a seat at the bar. Even with my fairly infrequent visits, the bartender recognizes me and remembers my drink (Maria is the best)! I usually make it my last stop out of town, downing martinis, a burger, and maybe some shrimp cocktail while wasting time before the airport, but on this visit I grabbed a midday snack on the day before my early morning flight. The burger lives up to the hype and the room is as classic as it gets.

Welton’s Tiny Bakeshop
📍Cannonborough
🍽️ Bakery

I had a quick meeting with the team at Welton’s Tiny Bakeshop while in town. Fresh off their Beard finalist distinction, I was really excited to check it out. As it so happened, they had one of my favorite sandwiches in the world, a muffuletta, sitting behind the counter. While all the pastries I tried were great (cookie & lavender kouign amann), I was thinking about that sandwich for days after.

Nashville

Kisser
📍East Nashville
🍽️ Japanese

Directly off the plane, with bags in hand, I took a car to Kisser. Kisser is a cozy Japanese-style lunch counter that came highly recommended. Open since 2023, it was a James Beard Best New Restaurant semifinalist, and I quickly found out why. I started with a crab onigiri, perfectly seasoned and filled with sweet crab meat. Following the onigiri, I tried the egg salad sando, a staple in Japanese convenience stores, that was fancied up with bright pops of ikura (salmon roe) for a nice salty punch. They also serve a delicious pork katsu sando, but my favorite was the hamachi kama, or yellowtail collar, which was perfect.

Rolf & Daughters
📍Germantown
🍽️ New American

Rolf & Daughters was at the very top of my list of restaurants to try. It already had no shortage of accolades when I met Chef-Owner Philip Krajek in Paris a few years back, but just chatting with him for a few moments solidified it as the spot I had to check out. Dining alone made it a bit tough to try everything, but I started with the housemade bread w/ seaweed butter, which even solo I felt was a must. I followed that with a tomato tonnato salad featuring just-in-season tomatoes covered in tomme, along with a creamy tonnato and crunchy, thinly sliced Hungarian peppers. Using the bread to make little, saucy, tomato bread bites was perfection. The house sausage, filled with parsley and garden greens, was nicely complemented by a single shishito stuffed with sweet, briny razor clams. For mains, I went with classic linguine and clams, topped with little chewy lardons that gave the whole thing a bit of texture. A really fantastic pasta dish. I ended the meal with a bowl of blueberry gelato.

Iggy’s
📍Wedgewood-Houston
🍽️ Italian

Iggy’s was another highly recommended spot that I ended up sneaking into at the last minute with my friend Sydney. The menu here revolves around a nice selection of housemade pastas. We started off with a simple salad and arancini with pork and n’duja sauce. All of the pasta was really well made and cooked perfectly, with my favorites being an agnolotti doppio with ricotta and corn, topped with truffles, and a really great rigatoni bolognese. Their selection of soft-serve desserts also cannot be missed.

Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint
📍Downtown
🍽️ BBQ

I was pointed towards Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint for a taste of some classic Nashville BBQ and snuck in for a quick snack. As I am a big rib guy, I opted for the dry-style ribs, which are a specialty. Dry ribs are smoked, then finished with a dusting of the dry rub. The ribs were nicely seasoned and smoked and definitely worth checking out. I also ordered a small side of pulled pork, which went really nicely with the vinegar-based BBQ sauce on the table.

Arnold’s Country Kitchen
📍The Gulch
🍽️ Southern

One of my absolute favorite meals and experiences of the trip was at Arnold’s Country Kitchen, a classic meat-and-three. A short walk from my hotel, I was one of the first people there on a Tuesday morning. You pass by the daily menu, grab a tray, and fill it with dessert first (banana pudding for me). I went with the daily special of chicken fried chicken, which was a boned chicken thigh fried and topped with country gravy. The meat was still nice and juicy with a crispy crunch under the savory gravy. I paired that with an incredible corn pudding, some white beans, and collard greens. The previously mentioned banana pudding was by far the best I have ever tried, and a must-order if you see it on the table.

The Whiskey House
📍Gaslamp Quarter
🍽️ Pub/steakhouse

I got in touch with an old bar friend named Freddie who now lives in Nashville, and he invited me to one of the coolest places I have ever been. Whiskey House is a private charity that is hidden in plain sight at an undisclosed location in the city; the only way to gain access is by invitation from a trustee or to be invited/host a charity event. The house is home to the largest collection of open bottles of whiskey in the United States and quite possibly the world. All of the whiskey has been donated from private collections or distilleries and is an absolutely overwhelming place to see, as bottles are literally everywhere. I was able to taste a few really fun things and, strangely enough, got to sit in on a gin tasting that was going on during my visit. What an experience!

Bar Roza
📍Downtown
🍽️ Cocktail bar

Freddie from Whiskey House pointed me towards a really unique cocktail bar called Bar Roza, which happened to be co-owned by my old friend Owen Gibbler, whom I knew from his days back in NYC over a decade ago. I was surprised to see him behind the bar and got a chance to catch up a bit to end my last night over a bunch of the amazing cocktails. Only a few weeks old, it really feels like a place doing something different and worth a visit.

The Dish: I found Markette’s Braised Oxtail Gratin the way all good things are found (no, not Instagram), but through word of mouth. There are a dozen ways to find out what’s hot, but nothing beats a friend who eats out all the time and randomly tells you about this upscale but low-key European-slash-Caribbean restaurant in Chelsea called Markette. “Two words,” they say. “Oxtail gratin.” And so a seed is planted.

Markette is run by award-winning Chef India Doris, whose culinary imagination is on full display. The charred snap peas with spring potato, horseradish, and grilled scallions is an appetizer that pops. The African-inspired peri-peri chicken (Swahili for “pepper”) is a buzzy main. The lamb and roti with fava beans is another must-order. The oxtail gratin is too big for a starter and not quite a main. It’s the perfect bite between those courses. The gratin is already food media-famous: The Infatuation called it a glamorous “glow-up” of shepherd’s pie.

The Ingredients: Oxtail, scotch bonnet oil, polenta, cheddar, crispy shallots.

The Legend: Chef Doris grew up in London in a Caribbean household and describes the menu at Markette as autobiographical — contemporary European with Caribbean influence, built from twenty years of cooking in France, Spain, Scotland, and New York. “I’m not trying to do things that I’m not familiar with,” she says. “It can’t be replicated.”

And in her family’s kitchen, one dish ruled. “Every island has a thing, and ours is oxtail.”

The Origin Story: The gratin starts traditionally: oxtail braised low and slow, the way it was made in her grandmother’s house, where the extended family — and, on Sundays, half the neighborhood — ate together. Then it goes somewhere else. The meat is picked down, the braising liquid reduced into a dark, silky gravy with scotch bonnet oil, and the whole thing is topped with polenta blended smooth with cheddar, garlic oil, and brown butter — “I really don’t like the grittiness of polenta” — piped on like a shepherd’s pie, and run under the heat until it’s gratinéed, served in copper pans.

Her grandmother, she says, never saw the point of restaurants: “Why would I go to a restaurant when I could make the food that I want to eat perfectly?” So the chef doesn’t try to compete. “This is not my grandma’s restaurant; this is my restaurant. I’m taking things that I love and trying to build something else.”

The family’s opinion on the remix? “They like it. It tastes like what we’re used to tasting.”

The dish aims to please longtime fans of oxtail and diners who may be more familiar with classic French cooking than Caribbean home cooking. It’s a win/win.

The First Bite: Doris’ Oxtail Gratin should be heavy, but it’s light on its feet. Every bite is both familiar and surprising. All of the cultural influences harmonize: the crispy shallots recall comforting casseroles. Polenta is a classic rustic Italian dish. The drizzle of Scotch Bonnet oil adds a welcome, lively kick to what is a savory, soulful dish. The broiled cheesy top almost cracks like creme brulee. Then there’s the oxtail itself, a medallion of marrow and tender meat, melted down and melded with a simple mirepoix. It’s luxurious but a team player. The moment you tuck into the dish, somehow, no matter who you are, you’re home.

The verdict: This is one of the most graceful and filling plates in the city. It’s not news that oxtail has become a trendy protein. Chef Doris doesn’t get too precious with it. She respects it.

Go check in at Markette with Blackbird, earn some $FLY, and first things first: order the Oxtail Gratin, then peruse the menu (the Curried Scallops are also fantastic.)

Flynn McGarry has been cooking professionally since he was 11. He opened Gem on the Lower East Side at 19; today he runs Cove in Hudson Square and Gem Home on Mott Street. He recently sat down with us and talked about hot dogs, Paris, Eleven Madison Park, and the best family meal he’s ever eaten (a bowl of homemade pozole).

I grew up in LA. I remember we went to some random nice-ish French place in the Valley — I literally can’t remember the name — for my grandmother’s birthday or something, and I remember timing the time between courses. I became obsessed with these very little things.

Whenever I talk about California food, I’m like, if you’re actually from California, you understand that the tri-tip sandwich is a thing, but no one else would know that. There was a guy who would make them in the grocery store parking lot near where we grew up. At that point, you do start to wonder: what’s he putting in his rub that’s different? How is the bread being made that’s different? That was very formative for me.

There was a hot dog place (Editor’s note: in L.A.) whose hot dogs felt different from the others. I became obsessed with learning how they made them. They boiled them — most of the hot dogs I was having were steamed — and the boiling was that crunch, that pop. I would go home, buy hot dogs, boil them, and see how it was different.

I had lunch at Arpège in Paris when I was 16. I’d just been working in restaurants in Scandinavia and was staying at a friend’s place in Paris for two weeks, watching their apartment, and I’d saved up all this money to eat lunch there. It was the middle of August. Arpège is a legendary restaurant — three Michelin stars. Alain Passard was known as this very talented three-star chef, and then one day he decided to get rid of fish and meat and just focus on cooking vegetables. He has multiple farms, and every day they get three deliveries from each at 11 a.m., and then they figure out what they’re going to cook with them.

I got there at noon and ordered a bottle of champagne. I left at 7 p.m. There were periods where I wasn’t eating — they stopped service because they were cleaning the kitchen — and he came and sat with me for an hour, eating his family meal. He doesn’t really speak English. I don’t really speak French. I ate nine straight courses of tomatoes. They just had so many tomatoes one day. In the middle of the meal, another truck arrived late, so they added a few courses because they’d gotten these new eggplants in. Never have I felt a meal in a restaurant was so personal — someone cooked me lunch, and then sat and ate their own lunch with me, and then cooked me a bit of dinner.

That lunch was the one meal I had money for. Everything else I ate in Paris was a baguette. I was staying in the 7th, a very residential neighborhood, and I’d get a baguette at the bakery — a euro — and a small chunk of cheese at the cheese store — two euros — and that was a meal. And it was great. That’s exactly the point, even of that meal: it’s a food, a texture, a flavor you can eat every day. I still eat bread and cheese pretty much every day. Having only two weeks in Paris, I decided to double down. Instead of spending $75 a day all week, I spent $350 on this one thing, and the rest of the time I ate mundane. I’m probably in a very small category of people who would do that. And if the meal had been bad, I think I would have had very different thoughts about my strategy in this industry. That was 10, 11 years ago, and I still think about that lunch more than I think about 90% of the other high-level meals I’ve had.

The first time I went to stage at Eleven Madison Park, I was 13. I was in the kitchen for two weeks. You spend two weeks working these very long, hard 12-hour days, putting in all the little details, and on the last day they were like, do you want to sit and have dinner? I sat at the bar with my mom, and they made a whole non-alcoholic thing for me. They took so much care.

A couple of years ago, I was in Japan on a sake trip with a bunch of wine people, learning about sake. I hadn’t spent much time in Japan, so going in I was obsessive — I need to find the best of everything. I’m not the person who needs a reservation for everything, but I go to a city with a plan — the places I want to go. And what do you do when you can’t go to the places you want to go to? I didn’t want to go to the secondary places. I was like, I’m just going to give up on this and let fate take its course. I walked into a place because it looked good to me from the outside. I didn’t know what any of the letters said. I didn’t know anything about it. I saw a guy in there, it was empty, and I was like, I’m hungry, I’m going in. And I had a genuinely amazing meal. He just started handing me pieces of fish. Is it the best sushi in Japan? I don’t know, but I had an amazing time. It was lunch, I was there for 45 minutes, I had 14 pieces of sushi, it was $45, and he was very nice — he walked me outside and called me a cab. I remember trying to find it on Google and I couldn’t. I still don’t really know where it is, or if I’ll ever find it again.

The opposite happened in Kyoto. We went to this yakitori place that had all this insane, random wine, and we drank these amazing bottles and had some yakitori, and we were like, bring the whole group back the next day. Closed. For three weeks — they were just going on vacation, which is maybe why they opened all that crazy wine. It was this perfect example of: we tried to plan it, and it ruined it, because then everyone was mad. “You pitched us on this amazing thing and now we can’t have it.” And when you try to find another version, you end up comparing it to this unicorn in your head.

Omen is a Japanese restaurant in Soho that’s been around for a really long time. Every fourth week, on a Monday, I wake up, and I’m like, I want that for dinner. They have a really great agedashi tofu, amazing shiso rice, and really good black cod. It’s just this nice little meal. I wait for the craving, then go to the restaurant — and the craving might hit 20 minutes earlier. That’s why I love being in New York.

There’s a restaurant, Altro Paradiso, that I go to a lot — sometimes even once a week. One of my best friends lives in LA now, and she’s always been obsessed with their big Florentine steak. Usually my girlfriend and I just get pasta and a couple of salads — we’re not going to spend $200 on a big steak. But my friend comes to New York once a year, and every time she comes, we go there and we get the thing. It’s been three or four years running now.

It was a very funny back-to-back recently: we ate there two weeks ago on a Monday, and then again the following week, but this time as a date. Usually we go on a Monday because it’s close to where we live, quick, delicious, and easy. But we went back and got a bottle of wine, started with cocktails, got the steak, got desserts. It’s always fun to go to a place you go all the time and have that completely different experience. That’s being a regular — but it’s also how a restaurant can flex with you. Are you going big tonight? Are you celebrating? Or are you just here on a Tuesday? That’s very New York. Only here can restaurants really do both.

I’ve had so many bad family meals. But there was a chef, Diego, who worked with us for six years. Roughly once a month, he would make his family’s pozole recipe — he was from Mexico — and it was so good. He ended up teaching another of our cooks, a city kid who grew up in New York and had never been to Mexico, how to make it. When Diego left, Oscar would make the pozole. It was the only dish that passed through the restaurant without ever going on the menu. It was passed through the restaurant entirely because we all wanted to eat it all the time. It’s still the best pozole I’ve ever had.

There are foods best eaten during the summer: grilled burgers, soft serve, thick slices of watermelon. And then there’s the lobster roll.

I ate my first lobster roll as an adult, a Texan visiting Boston. This was a long time ago. I was shocked and delighted by the (at the time) inexpensive bite. It was summer, and the lobster roll was perfect: chunks of sweet lobster meat---delicate knuckle and claw meat only, not the chewier, fleshier tail---tossed with mayo, crisp celery, a squirt of lemon, all served, to go, on a toasted, buttered hot dog bun.

The history of lobster is well known: once upon a time, lobsters were considered trash food, meant for prisoners or dogs. But then, slowly, over decades, it went through one of culinary history’s greatest glow-ups thanks to things like refrigeration, canning and good ol’ fashioned marketing. The lobster roll itself was shack food, fast, roadside eats. It was the popular way locals and tourists consumed the crustacean, which was plentiful off the Northeast’s shores.

Growing up, lobster was another word for “expensive,” what the rich ate, alongside caviar, champagne, and diamonds. But in New England, this delicacy was casually served on the kind of bread you’d find at ballparks and backyard cookouts. As a Texan, I thought New Englanders mostly ate hot chowder by the bowlful. Little did I know. And now, years later, I can’t start summer without a lobster roll.

With lobster roll season upon us, I asked a few random experts—a.k.a. folks who know a thing or two about lobsters—a simple question: what makes for a perfect lobster roll?

A few of my favorite recent lobster rolls are at The Dutch in SoHo (the béarnaise aioli is like super mayo) and the aptly named Lobster Roll Restaurant way out in Southampton (their “classic” is the platonic ideal, tbh).

But I’m a “sit on a picnic bench and eat lobster rolls with two hands”-type. I’ll let the pros explain.

“I think freshness and hand-picking your meat daily. Totally different texture, totally different flavor. To me, that’s it, along with simplicity,” says Orion Russell, executive chef of Greenpoint Fish & Lobster. “A bad lobster roll is frozen meat that has been shredded up to death and tastes like tuna fish.”

In case you don’t know (maybe you’re from Texas, too?), lobster rolls are divided into two distinct tribes: there are the cold lobster salads of the Massachusetts coast, and then there are the hot buttered lobster rolls of Connecticut. Personally, lobster rolls are not a binary. Do you have to choose? No. But if you want some help, Orion offers this advice: “It’s kind of weather dependent. It’s a chilly, rainy day; I want a hot butter roll. If it’s 100 degrees and sunny, like, please give me the mayo, cold mayo.”

For Nick Tamburo, chef-owner of Smithereens in the East Village, the question isn’t temperature but proportion. “Most would say a great lobster roll is about abundance. I’d say it’s about balance. A warm bun, cold lobster, a nice amount of lemon,” he says. “Our lobster roll at Smithereens is a little different in that we try to squeeze in as much lobster flavor as possible by making a lobster mayo and lobster butter with the shells.”

Then there’s the architecture. “Like any good sandwich, the bread is critical. Traditional New England top-split buns are best: white bread, buttered, nicely toasted, and served warm. Brioche buns are overkill, and their richness takes away from the focus, which should always be the lobster meat,” says David Seigal, VP, Culinary Director of LP Hospitality Group.

He adds: “Simplicity is key for traditional Maine-style lobster rolls. They don’t need any ‘special’ ingredients (crunchy toppings, yuzu replacing lemon, exotic spices, or things of that nature). Mayo, celery, lemon, maybe scallion, but that’s all.”

“I’ve always felt like lobster rolls have always been about finding that perfect balance of just enough meat to make it feel luxurious, but not so much that it’s too expensive,” says Zach Brooks, general manager of Smorgasburg LA. Of course, there’s a catch, and the catch is money. Lobster rolls have become trendy, and therefore, pricey. “One of my most vivid lobster roll memories of all time was the two-lobster-roll lunch special at Charlie’s Kitchen in Harvard Square,” says Zach. “I swear it was $10 (maybe $12) in 1999 and came with fries too.”

Ten dollars. Two lobster rolls. With fries. Somewhere, a hedge fund manager just spent forty dollars on one and called it a steal.

Bree Birns, co-owner of McLoons Lobster Shack in South Thomaston, Maine, echoes the fundamentals: fresh seafood, butter-toasted split-top bun. She follows up: “A little swipe of mayo and some warm butter to drizzle on top.” Wait. Mayo and butter? Isn’t that blasphemy? Like rooting for the Red Sox and the Yankees?

“I guess we kind of take the best of both worlds,” she says.

Colin Camac (aka @resyguynyc) leads restaurant partnerships at Blackbird and is our resident insider’s insider. He is out on the town seven nights a week, sniffing out the city’s best joints, skateboard in one hand, martini in the other.

It has been a wild last month since I last filed, with a ton of fun work travel. The end of last month began with a quick jaunt to New Orleans, followed by Chicago, and finally Aspen over a 4-week span. I ended up at parties, mixing with some of the most respected people in the restaurant industry from around the country. As exhausting as the last few weeks have been, it's been great to have the opportunity to share a room/meal with so many people I’ve admired. Here are a few bites I’ve had in NYC and on each of my recent trips.

Chicago

Boka
📍Lincoln Park
🍽️ Modern American

I was in town for the James Beard Awards and really only had time for one dinner, so I decided to check out a classic. Boka Restaurant is the first restaurant from Boka Group that now has restaurants all over the country. The only other time I was there was a drink at the bar before dinner at Alinea 12 or so years back, and without even knowing what it was, I noted how nice the bar experience was. My good friend Sarah works for the company, so they were able to sneak us in for some last-minute seats on a very busy Sunday night. We went à la carte, and the meal was fantastic, ending with a course featuring both chicken and duck, apparently both of Chef Lee Wolen's specialties. I would definitely recommend checking it out and giving a nearly 25-year-old restaurant some love.

Skyscrapers
📍Chicago O’Hare International Airport
🍽️ Fast Food

Hot take: The Chicago dog at Skyscrapers inside O’Hare may be the best I have had recently in the city. Definitely worth a stop at this tiny bar on your way out of town.

New Orleans

S.Pellegrino Presents 777: A New Orleans Feast
📍Garden District
🍽️ New Orleans

My good friend Anna helps put together this dinner in honor of the North America 50 Best List, with 7 chefs from around the country cooking together for one night only. This year, the event was hosted by Jack Rose in the Pontchartrain Hotel, and the chefs included Gabriel Kreuther, Aisha Ibrahim, Fariyal Abdullahi, and Jon Yao, among others. It was a really fun meal that culminated in an epic dance off with the 610 Stompers (look them up).

Li’l Dizzy’s Cafe
📍Tremé
🍽️ Creole Soul Food

Directly after a really fun crawfish boil thrown by OpenTable, I ran into my friends from Beba (Montreal), who highly recommended checking out Li’l Dizzy’s for some classic New Orleans fare. Li’l Dizzy’s is a smallish order at the counter two-story restaurant in a house that serves bayou staples. I absolutely loved the fried chicken, mac & cheese, and collards, but for me, it was the gumbo, which was one of the best versions I’ve had.

Gonzo’s Smokehouse
📍Luling
🍽️ Barbecue

I met up with my good friend Joe, who lives down here, and he took me to a spot off the beaten path I definitely would not have found on my own. Located about 30 minutes outside of town, Gonzo’s BBQ is open 2 days a week and sells out early. Gonzo’s does Texas-style BBQ, and although they were out of a few things I wanted to try, the brisket was top-notch, and their homemade sausage, studded with bits of cheese, was a great bite.

Parkway Bakery & Tavern
📍Mid-City
🍽️ Po’boys

When in New Orleans, you need at least one po' boy, and for this trip, I wanted to try one of the classics that I had not yet been to. Parkway is always at the top of many lists, so I decided to pop over and give it a try. I normally love the seafood poboys, but for this visit I decided to go best of both worlds and get one named after the “hardest working man in show business” himself, James Brown. This monster of a sandwich was layered with BBQ beef, fried shrimp, pepper jack cheese, and topped with hot sauce mayo. It was as gloriously delicious and messy as it sounds.

Porgy’s Seafood Market
📍Mid-City
🍽️ Seafood

Porgy’s was a total surprise and a place I had never heard of before. I went to check it out with my friends Drew & Alex from Resy. Porgy’s is a small seafood market and restaurant with a great seafood-centered menu. The Sicilian sashimi was classic but featured some fun fish, like sheephead, which you don’t normally see in NYC. We ordered a really deeply flavored BBQ shrimp swimming in a sauce heavy with Worcestershire, which was really tasty. The best bite, possibly of the trip though, was something called the “All Coast’s Tostada”, which was a ceviche with Thai flavors, crab boil aioli, naam jim sauce, and herbs. It was spicy, salty, and acidic all at once over the backbone of that delicious aioli. Really a perfect bite.

Aspen

Matsuhisa
📍Downtown
🍽️ Japanese

In town for Food & Wine Aspen, the Blackbird team and I decided to go somewhere fun for our first night in town and settled on Matsuhisa. I personally had never been to a Matsuhisa location (the original in LA spawned the Nobu restaurants worldwide), but one of my earliest memories of being wowed by a meal was dining at the original Nobu shortly after it opened as a present for my 5th-grade graduation. One of the dishes that I remembered most fondly was the tuna miso chip that my dad and I would both start and finish each meal with. No longer on the menu at either Nobu in NYC, I was excited to give it a try after so many years, and it was still a really fun bite. For a place like this, it is always best to stick to the classics: yellowtail jalapeno, “new style” sashimi, white fish with dry miso, creamy spicy rock shrimp tempura, and miso black cod. I even ordered another tuna miso chip for dessert, for old times’ sake.

White House Tavern
📍Downtown
🍽️ Pub fare

White House Tavern is the local version of Hillstone/Houston's, etc., but one of the smaller locations that specializes in their apps and sandwiches. I ended up grabbing lunch with some of the team from Sip & Guzzle, who we brought out there for an event later that evening. Hillstone remains undefeated in the high-end chain game. The food is better than it needs to be, and the service is always really solid. Is it going to blow you away on any real level? Probably not, but keeping the standard so consistent from place to place is a feat in and of itself

New York City

Noury
📍SoHo
🍽️ Japanese izakaya

Blackbird Club hosted a friends & family preview of soon to open Noury, the follow-up to the criminally under the radar Kiko a few blocks away. Noury is a wine and sake bar with a Japanese-leaning food menu. This was one of the best friends and family dinners I have been to, and I can’t wait to see it at full tilt. Highlights for me were the sashimi, tuna tartare, unagi & ankimo handroll, chrysanthemum salad, and an incredible tuna belly.

Or’esh
📍SoHo
🍽️ Mediterranean

Or’esh is the newest hype-train restaurant from Catch Hospitality and continues their trend of creating impossible-to-get-into restaurants that finally have food that lives up to all the hype. The restaurant is helmed by Chef Nadav Greenberg, formerly of Shmone, where he earned a Michelin Star. For me, the must-have dishes were a chicken liver cigar with amba & parsley yogurt and spicy harissa, the Jerusalem bagel with a trio of dips, and the layered salmon with beurre blanc, grilled cabbage, and broccolini.

Somssi
📍Greenwich Village
🍽️ Korean

I popped in opening week to Somssi, a brand new restaurant from Ahris Kim and backed by the Atomix group. I think this place shows a ton of promise, and I really enjoyed my early meal here. Unfortunately, they were out of the limited mutton chops by the time I arrived, but the rest of the menu helped ease the disappointment. I highly recommend the tuna, served over crushed peas and goat curd. The peas and curd had a great earthiness and acidity (with the help of some lemon) that worked perfectly with the cubed tuna. Ox tongue grilled perfectly was another really good bite, over a romesco sauce and served with a small bit of wasabi. Definitely worth saving room for dessert as the nutmeg tart was the big winner for me, almost reminiscent of a pumpkin pie but with a more liquid custard interior.

Adda: Butter Chicken Experience
📍East Village
🍽️ Indian

With reservations booked out weeks in advance, I was finally able to get a group together with the help of my buddy Evan to do the Butter Chicken Experience at Adda, and it was absolutely worth the wait. You are told to order a few dishes to round out the experience, but the butter chicken itself was the real star. The chef first leaves a paint-can smoker on your table while the chickens finish smoking, then returns with a cart of all your finishing options. You get to choose a base between three butters, and then each guest gets to choose their finishing butter as well. Each guest gets a small bowl of daal (topped with butter), rice, and some paratha to dip. The whole thing is really interactive and one of the more delicious large-format dishes I have had in a long time. I can’t wait to go back and do it again.

Phê
📍Lower East Side
🍽️ Vietnamese Coffee Bar

Phê is the new coffee bar from the team behind Mam, located right next door. The place will soon have banh mi available during the week, but for now, they are kicking everything off with banh mi chao, which is like a Vietnamese steak and eggs. Each guest gets a perfect housemade roll and a sizzling platter of steak, eggs, Vietnamese ham, sausages, and a triangle of Laughing Cow cheese, along with bright yellow mayo and pate. It was one of the most satisfying weekend lunch options I have had in a while, and the bread was absolutely perfect for sopping up all the juices while staying crispy on the outside.

There's a tranquility to sitting in a dimly lit dining room, chatting with friends. The murmur of other guests is just loud enough for privacy, without needing to shout. But, like a burst of lightning, a camera flash or ring light across the room can jolt you out of that peace. Like vultures, phones hover over dishes, hungrier than their holders, ready to document dinner.

Tina Vaughn, co-owner of Eulalie, fights to preserve this serenity at her Tribeca restaurant.

“Phones are such a distraction,” she says. “You’re not supposed to be on your telephone. You’re supposed to be looking at your beautiful people at the table, enjoying food, and taking a breather from your day.”

At her French-leaning eatery in Lower Manhattan, she and her husband, Chef Chip Smith, encourage guests to “please [put their] cell phones on a holiday.”

Vaughn tells me that most of the diners are ready and willing to comply. “Nine times out of ten, almost every single person does it on their own and also comments on the appreciation they have to encourage people to be in the moment and be present.”

Of all her guests, Vaughn shares that “it’s the younger set that loves it.” She posits that “they have grown up with so much use on the phone that they’re finally getting over it.”

For the past few years, certain sects of young adults have been trying to adopt more analog technological habits. Whether they’re bringing back disposable cameras and flip phones, ditching their smartwatches, or even inventing products like the Brick, which puts a hard block on their screen time, Gen Z is feeling the weight of being exposed to technology since birth.

A study conducted by Talker Research found that 50% of the 2000 Americans surveyed were actively seeking to disconnect from their phone. At the helm of people seeking a digital detox were Gen Z, with 63% of those surveyed looking to unplug, closely followed by Millennials at 57%.

Vaughn and her team are outliers in the New York City dining scene. While her guests’ phones are on vacation, other restaurants are flooded with devices working overtime to document their wielders’ experience.

Doom Scrolling on TikTok can show users thousands of results of people dining at, or even just trying to walk into, some of the most popular restaurants in the city, like The Corner Store or Four Charles Prime Rib. Some videos show hopeful diners sharing that they arrive up to two hours before doors open.

Restaurants that the algorithm favors become impossible to book with reservations appearing to vanish within seconds upon release. Gaining access to these elusive temples becomes a badge of honor for New York City diners and a content gold mine for influencers.

With the democratization of food criticism through TikTok reviews and the review app Beli, diners have more opportunities to document and share their meals and opinions than ever. Eaters plugged into the zeitgeist can collect new restaurants like Pokémon cards with photos of their dinner as one of the only markers to say “I was here.”

Some restaurants are abandoning this model by prohibiting pictures in their establishments, if they aren’t so bold as to outright ask their guests to keep their phones out of sight.

In February 2024, Liz Johnson opened Frog Club. The now-shuttered eatery started by taking reservations only through a secret email request line. When patrons arrived, a doorman would place stickers over their cameras to enforce a photo-free environment.

Entering the restaurant was like stepping into Wonderland. Big banquettes filled the historic Chumley’s space to lull guests into the dimly-lit den surrounded by wall-to-wall murals of technicolor frogs hailing cabs, smoking cigars, and playing poker. A collection of plates dangled from the ceiling overhead, attached by thick industrial chains that hung like stalactites. As if the theming wasn’t clear enough, tiki-style cocktails were presented in frog-shaped mugs, and a giant stuffed frog sat at the ready to fill empty seats at large tables.

As guests, the instinct to pull out our phones to take pictures of the food and interior was limited, so instead, my friends and I put our phones away, took in the surroundings, and chatted the night away over a bottle of Rioja.

Johnson isn’t the first to implement a no-photo policy, though. Some of New York’s most lauded sushiya, like Masa and Sushi Sho, strictly prohibit any photography. And, in Vaughn’s view, no phones means no pictures, too.

“You’ll remember everything it meant to you,” she tells me. “Your memory kicks in in a different sensual way that fills your spirit up more. If you take pictures of everything, it allows you to forget that sensation.”

Instead, Vaughn would like her guests to come into the restaurant and “don’t be distracted. Just enjoy dinner and your friends.”

Be honest. How many of you have googled “restaurants with a good vibe” before a date or a guest comes to town? Because sometimes, there’s a type of New York City dinner that has nothing to do with the food - we’re looking for mood, for 19th-century sconces, for Aesop soap in the bathroom. But what if I told you we could do even better?

I’m Rose, and I write The Rose Period - a newsletter about the special, unusual, and slightly unexpected stories from the art world that you need to know. And today I’m letting you in on the art world’s open secret: the best canvases in the city aren’t hanging in a gallery. They’re painted directly onto the walls of your favorite dining rooms.

We’re talking murals - one of the oldest storytelling traditions in human history, and as it turns out, one of New York’s best-kept secrets.

So throw away your museum ticket. Make a reservation instead. Here are five NYC dining rooms with a secret worth keeping - and everything you need to know.

1. Old King Cole Bar - Maxfield Parrish, 1906

Head to the Old King Cole Bar at the St. Regis and beeline to a bar seat. Order a Red Snapper (the bar’s og name for the Bloody Mary, invented here) and settle into the real reason you came - the 30-foot mural behind the bar that’s been there since 1906.

Here’s the backstory: Railroad heir John Jacob Astor IV commissioned the famous illustrator Maxfield Parrish to paint it, with one condition: Astor’s own face had to be the King’s. Parrish, a Quaker abstinent who didn’t want his work in a bar and butted heads with Astor from the start, took the unheard of sum of $5,000 and got his revenge.

According to legend, the King — Astor— is depicted mid-flatulence. Every grimacing courtier has Parrish’s own face. Astor never let on that he knew!

The mural originally hung in Astor’s Knickerbocker Hotel. After Astor died on the Titanic in 1912 (yes…the Titanic!), it eventually landed here in the 1930s.

Use this for dinner conversation: Salvador Dalí checked into Room 1610 every winter in the 1960s - wife Gala, pet ocelot, and cape of dead bees in tow - and announced his arrival by throwing open the doors and shouting “DA-LÍ… IS… HERE.”

2. Bemelmans Bar — Ludwig Bemelmans, 1947

You might have to politely wait in line for Bemelmans Bar at The Carlyle alongside TikTok stars - but unlike them, you didn’t come for the $30 martinis (although they do come with a sidecar).

You came to feast your eyes on the sprawling mural by Ludwig Bemelmans - aka the Madeline guy.

In 1947, the Austrian-American illustrator behind the beloved Madeline children’s books painted the entire bar in exchange for 18 months of free accommodation at the hotel.

Take a closer look, and you’ll see he designed a whole universe: Central Park across all four seasons, rabbits in top hats, hippos in tutus, Madeline and her eleven friends in two straight lines. Somewhere to the right of the cash register, he painted himself in as a waiter holding the bill.

What I love most about this mural? You get a whole new chapter of an iconic children’s story. We can see what Bemelmans’ brain looked like outside of France - as if Madeline grew up, moved to New York, and yes, ordered that $30 martini with a sidecar for herself and her eleven friends.

Use this for dinner conversation: this is the only surviving public Bemelmans commission in existence - one of the few places in the world where you can sit inside an original Madeline universe.

3. The Waverly Inn — Edward Sorel, 2007

The Waverly Inn is the kind of West Village restaurant that makes you feel desperate to LIVE in the West Village - low ceilings, candlelight, and a dining room wrapped in New York legends.

In 2006, Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter bought and revived the place - and commissioned American illustrator and satirist Edward Sorel to create the now iconic murals on the walls.

Sorel is famous for his sharply funny caricatures in publications like The New Yorker and Vanity Fair - and he went all in here.

He immortalized 40 Greenwich Village greats - Walt Whitman, Allen Ginsberg, Bob Dylan, Andy Warhol, Fran Lebowitz - in his signature style: loose, wickedly observant caricatures that almost feel more accurate than the photos.

Look closely, and you’ll spot Whitman being attacked by a Truman Capote butterfly, or Jane Jacobs, Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, and Willa Cather playing ring-around-the-rosy.

Use this for dinner conversation: the mural is basically a love letter to Greenwich Village - and to that old-world, bohemian version of New York the Waverly Inn has attracted since opening in 1920. Before Graydon Carter took it over, the inn had already lived several lives: tavern, bordello, tearoom - a place where poets, creatives, and beatniks came in troves. Robert Frost himself was once a regular.

4. The Monkey Bar — Edward Sorel 2009

Two years after the Waverly Inn, Graydon Carter brought Edward Sorel back - this time for Monkey Bar, the storied Midtown restaurant tucked inside the old Hotel Elysée that opened in 1936.

For the mural, Sorel turned his attention uptown. We’re talking roughly 60 Jazz Age and New York cultural legends - Billie Holiday singing into a microphone, Dorothy Parker side-eyeing the room with a cigarette in hand, Frank Sinatra holding court at the bar, critics gossiping over martinis and actors flirting across booths.

Sorel stages the whole thing like a chaotic Manhattan dinner party - everyone talking over each other, performing, gossiping, and scheming.

Use this for dinner conversation: This room has SEEN some things. Monday Bar is a legendary setting in The Catcher in the Rye (remember that scene where Holden tries (and fails) to pick someone up at the bar?!). And on a more somber note: Tennessee Williams died here in 1983, choking on a bottle cap in his suite upstairs.

5. Clemente Bar — Francesco Clemente, 2024

Eleven Madison Park is already one of the most celebrated restaurants in the world - and owner Daniel Humm decided to one-up himself by opening a cocktail bar upstairs last fall. Enter: Clemente Bar.

Instead of hanging art on the walls, Humm handed the entire room over to Italian painter Francesco Clemente, who painted directly onto the walls and ceilings himself.

Clemente filled the space with floating faces, surreal eyes, fragmented bodies, and washes of red, gold, black, and earth tones. You can still see the brushstrokes, drips, and uneven edges - the whole room feels alive.

There are two massive 17-foot murals, plus a ceiling painting above the staircase filled with swirling figures surrounding a giant eye. Behind the bar, another mural stretches across the walls in deep reds and golds. Nothing is framed - the paintings ARE the architecture.

Use this for dinner conversation: Daniel Humm has said he modeled Clemente Bar after Zurich’s legendary Kronenhalle, famous for its Picassos and Chagalls hanging on the walls. The difference here? Clemente didn’t lend the restaurant paintings - he literally painted the building itself.

6. F&F Restaurant — Julian Schnabel, 2024

F&F Restaurant is one of those great laidback corner spots. Great food, not snobby. And an original Julian Schnabel hangs in the barroom (yup, no big deal).

Haven’t heard of Schnabel before? Here’s the TLDR: he’s a prominent figure in the American Neo-Expressionism movement, alongside Jean-Michel Basquiat and Eric Fischl. He’s known for massive canvases strewn with color and found objects, and as a filmmaker whose work has won him awards at Cannes and the Golden Globes (and an Oscar nomination!).

Here’s the story: when the restaurant first opened, the celebrated painter and filmmaker asked to try their pizzas. So owners Frank Castronovo and Frank Falcinelli sent him a couple. Schnabel responded with “a little something,” a photo of a piece of art in one of his favorite hues, purple. He liked it so much, he had it framed and delivered.

Schnabel is in good company: famed abstract painter Ron Gorchov’s work hangs at F&F, too.

Use this for dinner conversation: Julian Schnabel and Ron Gorchov were fixtures of the New York art world for decades. Today, Gorchov’s estate is represented by Vito Schnabel, Julian’s son.

There you have it: 6 iconic restaurant murals to make your next dinner reservation around. Isn’t that just the magic of New York after all? Some of the city’s greatest artworks aren’t behind velvet ropes or protected by museum guards. They’re above your martini. Behind your burger. Hiding in plain sight while the rest of the room debates the crudo!

So the next time you go out to dinner in New York, look up. The best table in the city might also come with a masterpiece.

Sara Leveen is the co-owner and operator of the critically-acclaimed Vietnamese restaurant Hanoi House in New York’s East Village. Previously, she spent more than 15 years working for restaurateur Stephen Starr and his restaurant group, including leadership roles during the company’s expansion into New York, which included the openings of Buddakan and Morimoto in 2006. Sara took some time last week to tell us some of the things she’s learned running a busy, buzzy restaurant for nearly a decade, from lessons about finding the right partners to the importance of details and the right playlist.

• “Stay connected to your people as much as you can. Everything from meeting a prospective employee before they’re hired to checking in a month later to see how they’re acclimating and enjoying work. I learned this from Stephen [Starr]. He interviewed every server, bartender, and host candidate. He probably had 15 or 20 restaurants at the time.”

• “You cannot expect what you don’t inspect. If you need the underside of the bar well wiped, the floor fan turned on, and hot water poured down the drains to prevent fruit flies, you have to check it yourself.”

• “Don’t waste time trying to do something that someone else can do better and faster. If you can learn from them while that’s taking place, then everybody wins.”

• “Bring on partners who have significant skill sets that you do not. When you're looking for someone that you're going to be shoulder to shoulder with through the blood, sweat, and tears of doing an opening, where you work several months, sometimes a year straight, without days off, you really want to make sure that you're aligned in the vision and the goals with that person. It is really about being able to trust the person.”

• “Don’t do it for the money. You need to be motivated by the idea of employing and taking care of people and changing their lives, giving them a place that they can go to be seen, to feel safe, to learn.”

• “High turnover is one of the worst things that you can have in terms of quality of operations. It is expensive, but it also means less trained, less knowledgeable, less fulfilled staff doing a job.”

• “Sometimes the things that are the hardest to do are also the most rewarding. The item we became most popular for was not what we intended to be, which is the pho. It was one of many dishes that we believed paid homage to the city of Hanoi. We did it right, and it landed. People were drawn to it, and it became our identity. But it’s very labor-intensive and time-consuming. ”

• “Don’t do something that may save you money simply because you can get away with it. That means no shortcuts. Doing the right thing.

• “Restaurant jobs are not easy. They are not glorious. There’s a lot of dirty work, heavy lifting, and risk that lies beneath the surface you may not see as a diner. When we ask someone to do a job that requires them to work in those circumstances, it’s on us to balance that with treating them well, feeding them well, paying them well, and making them feel like they’re part of a family, not just someone hired to do a dirty job.”

• “Value is what drives the business overall. But value is... not just the price you pay for something and what you’re receiving on the plate; it is all the aspects of the service and dining experience that contribute to that value. Coming into contact with multiple people who are focused on your happiness adds to the feeling that money is well spent.”

• “Nothing matters more than maintaining food quality and consistency. There are countless ways to adapt to a changing market and evolving tastes. Keep your head down and grind towards that goal, and the noise disappears.”

• “Managing staff is a delicate balance. You have to create a comfortable environment where people can be themselves and forge strong friendships with their coworkers, while also demanding respect and workplace focus that reinforces that we are a business. Truthfully, I’m still working on that skill.”

• “Make sure there are no stray pieces of cilantro. This is Ben’s specialty. [Ben is Sara’s business partner and spouse]. He does so many thoughtful little things that no one ever sees or notices. He expedites a couple of shifts a week. He's the last person to see the food before it goes to the dining room, and it just always looks better with him.”

• “Keep that energy super high. As the restaurant builds up on a Friday or Saturday night, when we have more large parties, the music gets louder. You’re keeping that energy super high. On a Monday at 6 o’clock, it’s significantly lower, but the music itself is always audible. You can always say, “ Hey, wait, what is the song? I can hear the lyrics. We have a playlist we started in 2017. It’s a lovely hybrid of hip hop and reggae.”

Colin Camac (aka @resyguynyc) is officially Blackbird’s “Strategic Sales Lead,” and unofficially is our resident insider’s insider. He is out, on the town seven nights a week, sniffing out the city’s best joints, skateboard in one hand, martini in the other.

After a slight break in the action, I have to say it feels good to be back! This month was jam-packed with a ton of great meals and unusually heavy on some heavy-hitter sushi spots. I was also able to fit in a work trip to Chicago for the Utility conference put on by Tilt each year. Throw in an awesome Burger League meal, a few pop-ups, and new openings, and I have a pretty solid list of recommendations for May. We’re coming into the best time of the year to dine in NYC as the mass exodus approaches and the hard-to-get reservations become just a bit easier to attain. Hopefully, I can help you choose wisely.

Yoshino
📍East Village
🍽️ Japanese

Yoshino has been on my list of places to visit since it opened a few years back. One Michelin Star later and 4 from NYT by pedigree alone, it is considered one of the top omakase spots in NYC. Unlike some of the other top-rated restaurants in the city, I was able to score a fairly last-minute reservation for Friday night on Tuesday of the same week with my friend Phillip. Arriving at a nondescript door on Bowery, we were quickly seated in front of Chef Yoshida himself. Chef previously helmed a highly regarded omakase in Nagoya, Japan, called Sushi No Yoshino, known as the best sushiya in Japan outside Tokyo. This meal started with a bang, a small glass filled with seaweed, uni, and caviar that got everything going. For a high-priced spot, I thought they did a great job of alternating between high-end ingredients like caviar and more fun (for me) traditional bites such as abalone w/ uni sauce, Chef’s signature Saba (mackerel), and kohada (gizzard shad). They also served two of the more unique tomato preparations that I have seen. The first was a rolled omelet around eel, and then, at the end of the meal, another was a neatly cut rectangle of custard with a bit of brulee on top. Both were fantastic. I would highly recommend this place for a special occasion for any sushi lover.

Yugin
📍Midtown
🍽️ Japanese

I was lucky enough to be invited to try Yugin, which is a several-month-old omakase counter on the 60th floor of a private club on the edge of Central Park South. While the club is private, the restaurant is available to the public. Chef Yugin grew up in the Republic of Moldova, then cooked around the world before eventually becoming Masa's apprentice at Masa's flagship on Columbus Circle. For over 10 years, Chef worked his way up until he found the perfect spot for his own counter. What I loved about this experience was that the Chef strives to learn about his guests, and each diner does not receive the same meal. It goes back to the old-school style of omakase that nobody does anymore. Otsumami courses tend to be seasonally inspired and more improvisational, while nigiri follows a stricter traditional form. I absolutely loved this meal and thought all of the personal touches made it feel like a very special experience. For me, he pulled out five different types of hikarimono (silverfish) once I asked about it. Chef purposely keeps the fish hidden so he can surprise each guest with a meal tailored to their preferences. There is no other room in town with views like this. I will definitely be back.

Roll-O Dairy Bar @ Ghost Hawk Brewing Co
📍Clifton, New Jersey
🍽️ American

I had been following the enigmatic Rolo Dairy Bar online for a while now, sometimes barely catching their whereabouts in an Instagram story shortly before it vanished. The Dairy Bar refers to a small trailer from the 50’s that a chef serves food from, with a small paper menu hanging on the side. On this day, I set a reminder that it would be close enough for me to take a quick trip over to NJ to check it out. The menu consisted of an amazing burger, stuffed peppers, pickles of all kinds, and vanilla and sherbet twist ice cream topped with orange oil. Such a fun spot, can’t wait to track it down again. Bonus points that it was parked across the street from the world-famous Rutt’s Hut, and you could double down with some hot dogs before or after!

Raoul’s (Burger League)
📍Soho
🍽️ French Bistro

It had been a while since I was last at Raoul’s for a full meal, and Burger League was the perfect excuse to get back. Normally, the burgers here are extremely limited and only served at the bar, but for Blackbird Burger League, every table in the room gets one per person. I remember liking the burger the first time I tried it years ago, but this time was absolutely epic. The burger comes with a cracked peppercorn crust, triple cream cheese, dressed greens, red onion, cornichons, and an au poivre dipping sauce. Pair that with some of the best fries around, and it all works. I loved it so much, I was back within a week and snagged a bar seat to do it all again.

Cellar Door Provisions @ Ops
📍Bushwick
🍽️ Mediterranean

Ops is one of my favorite rooms to be in during the early evening hours when the light still hits the dining room just right; that is exactly why I was so excited to hear about them opening for (non-pizza) lunch one Sunday each month with a special guest for a reasonable prix fixe. This month, the team brought in Cellar Door Provisions from Chicago, and it was exactly what I was looking for: vegetable- and fish-forward, perfect for an early afternoon. We started with mussel conserva w/ soupy sorana beans and an aioli served with Ops amazing sourdough. Following that, we had wood-smoked asparagus with tarragon and blue cheese. My favorite dish of the meal, though, was a salt-roasted ocean trout from the pizza oven, impossibly tender, served with favas, pea shoots, and a sauce mousseline. The meal ended with rye and chocolate shortbread with sabayon.

Sushi Yasuda
📍Midtown East
🍽️ Japanese

As I’ve said before, long fancy lunches are my favorite, and Sushi Yasuda does it right. Yasuda was part of the first wave of the omakase craze, and even after a few chef changes, it is still great. Also, unlike most high-end omakase spots, it is open for lunch. Additionally, they offer à la carte options if you don’t feel like a real commitment, which is exceedingly rare nowadays. Highly recommended if you find yourself in Midtown, such a great way to spend an afternoon.

Holbox @ Corima
📍 Chinatown
🍽️ Mexican

I couldn’t wait for the Holbox/Corima collab dinner, so I hauled ass to Chinatown. Holbox is an amazing Mexican seafood restaurant in LA, and they were coming to town for one night only. The several-course menu was thoughtful, and a beverage pairing consisting of Agave, beer, and wine was well done. A chawanmushi with uni was a particularly fantastic bite, as well as one of their classic smoked kampachi tacos. Such a treat to catch them while they’re in town.

Vantre @ Claud
📍 East Village
🍽️ Modern

Vantre is one of my absolute favorite restaurants whenever I’m in Paris. When I found out they were coming to NYC for a pop-up at Claud, there was no chance I wouldn’t find a way to go. Claud does a ton of these and they do a great job of hosting awesome chefs from all over the world, this one was no exception. For these dinners, the team usually brings a few dishes and the rest of the menu is from the Claud team, it’s a really fun and smart way to do a pop-up without turning the whole place upside down. It was a fantastic meal and made me long for my next trip to Paris to get the full experience.

Dean’s
📍Soho
🍽️ British

After a lighter-than-usual meal at Claud for the pop-up, we went to check out Deans with Annie Shi (who had dined with us) as she had to go back to work. The place was bustling with the windows open wide onto 6th Ave, and feeling fantastic. We tried a few of the dishes that had been catching my eye: oysters & Guinness, scotch quail eggs, cold beef, fish & chips, and a few others. Such a great feeling place with an original concept that will definitely be in the rotation.

Quick hits, Pop-ups & New openings

Portillo’s & Barnelli’s
📍River North, Chicago
🍽️ Italian

First stop off the plane was a quick trip to Portillo’s, a few short walks from the apartment, for a classic Chicago dog. An institution that makes one of the best versions I’ve tried.

Gene & Georgetti
📍River North, Chicago
🍽️ Steakhouse

Going 80 years strong, this Italian Steakhouse is an old-school staple and definitely worth a visit if you’re in town. It’s full of solid food and old-school charm. I love Gene & Georgetti’s crab cake, baked clams, and roasted chicken with hot & sweet peppers and hot sausage.

The Loyalist
📍West Loop, Chicago
🍽️ New American

My final meal on my short trip to Chicago was at The Loyalist, located just below the 3-Michelin-starred Smyth. The subterranean space has a great feel with a large bar and booth seating around the room. My favorite bites here were easily the anchovy toast and the OG cheeseburger. Worth a stop if you’re in town.

The New York Public Library's online menu collection is a perfect rabbit hole for restaurant lovers to fall down. Got a few hours? It’s a fascinating and exhaustive record of dining out over nearly two centuries.

The Buttolph Collection, as it’s also known, consists of 45,000 menus, more than 17,000 of which have been digitized, the oldest dating to 1843. It’s named for Miss Frank E. Buttolph, an eccentric menu buff (and archivist) who wrote to restaurants to request copies of their menus and meticulously cataloged every one. She graciously donated her life’s work to the NYPL.

That 1843 menu? It was from the luxurious Astor House, and it was for a dining area reserved for “ladies.” The specials included clam soup, stewed mutton with turnips, and calf’s head with brain sauce. Breakfast started at 5:30 AM.

Menus are more than lists of foods and beverages. They’re a very specific kind of literature. They’re functional guides, yes, but every menu also tells a story about the time and place it existed. As a whole, the NYPL’s menu collection — which includes examples from Boston and Chicago — tells a specific culinary history: the birth and flourishing of American restaurants.

The ones that stand out include those from Delmonico’s, the father of American restaurants. There was nothing like it when it opened its doors in 1837. Before Delmonico’s, restaurants were found in hotels, seating was communal, and you ate what was served. Delmonico’s was inspired by European styles: it gave guests their own tables and took their orders. Its menus were massive and written in French, the language of the gourmand.

Delmonico’s wasn’t just the most popular restaurant in New York; it was the most famous restaurant in the country. For decades. And it inspired countless imitators; New York City has been crazy for restaurants ever since.

And then, while perusing, I found a menu for Smith & McNeil’s, which I then learned was the busiest restaurant-slash-dining hall in 19th-century New York. It was a massive operation that sat across from Washington Market, the city's trade center, in Lower Manhattan, where it served the masses until the 1920s. Founded in the late 1840s, Smith & McNeil reached its peak in the 1890s, reportedly serving 10,000 people a day. The turnover must have been madness: the floor seated 1,000 diners at a time. This wasn’t Delmonico’s; the menus were in plain English, and the goal was fast, hot, honest food. It’s a monster of a menu, and I’ve pored over it, imagining myself a Gilded Age gentleman ordering dinner amongst the rabble.

Here’s the menu, which is also reprinted below for those of you without reading glasses. It is exhaustive but filled with foods modern diners would definitely find palatable, if not delicious. Who doesn’t love corned beef hash and eggs?

The prices listed are pennies; adjusted for inflation, one dollar at the turn of the century is worth about $39 today. So a porterhouse steak that cost seventy cents would cost about $27 now. Reasonable!

Join me. What are you ordering? Little clam fritters? Lamb chops? Pumpkin pie? Sound off in the comments.

DINNER

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 31, 1900

TO-DAY’S EXTRAS

Stewed Tripe with Onions $.15 · Boiled Turkey, Oyster Sauce $.30 · Boiled Beef, Horseradish Sauce $.15 · Roast Pork, Apple Sauce $.15 · Beef a la Mode $.15 · Chili Con Carne, Mexican Style $.15 · Beefsteak Pie $.15 · Boston Pot Roast $.25 · Frankfurter Sausages and Sauerkraut $.20 · Baked Chicken Pie $.20 · Ragout de Boeuf $.15 · Chicken Fricassee $.25 · Baked Ham, Champagne Sauce $.25 · Oyster Pie $.15 · Pork and Beans $.15 · Chicken Patty $.20 · Oyster Patty $.15

ROASTS Beef $.15 · Veal $.15 · Beef, Loin $.25 · Lamb $.15 · Beef Tenderloin $.25 · Pork $.15

SOUPS Green Turtle $.30 · Beef $.10 · Clam $.15 · Chicken $.15 · Vegetable $.10 · Mutton Barley $.10 · Ox-tail $.15 · Tomato $.10 · Pea $.10 · Clam Broth $.10 · Bean $.10

EGGS Sardines $.15 · Baked Halibut $.15

TO ORDER — FRIED OR BROILED Bluefish $.25 · Fish Cakes $.25 · Codfish $.25 · Salmon Steak $.30 · Halibut Steak $.25 · Picked-up Codfish $.25 · Salt Mackerel $.25 · Eels $.25 · Shad Fried or Broiled $.25 · Fried Smelts $.25 · Fresh Mackerel $.25 · Finnan Haddie $.25

BOILED Smoked Ham $.15 · Mutton, Plain $.15 · Corned Beef $.15 · Smoked Beef Tongue $.25 · Mutton, Caper Sauce $.20 · Corned Beef Hash $.15

POULTRY WITH APPLE SAUCE OR CRANBERRY SAUCE Roast Spring Chicken $.35 · Chicken Fricassee $.25 · Chicken, Broiled on Toast $.50 · Roast Spring Duck $.35 · Roast Turkey $.30 · Chicken, Fried, Vienna Style $.50

STEAKS AND CHOPS TO ORDER Porterhouse Steak $.70 · Bone Sirloin Steak $.50 · Top Sirloin Steak $.30 · Porterhouse Steak, Tomato Sauce $.75 · Sirloin Steak with Fried Potatoes $.25 · Porterhouse Steak with Mushrooms $.80 · Sirloin Steak, Tomato Sauce $.30 · Porterhouse Steak for Two $1.00 · with Tomato Sauce $1.05 · Rump Steak $.25 · Porterhouse Steak for Two with Mushrooms $1.15 · Rump Steak, Tomato Sauce $.30 · Tenderloin Steak $.40 · Pork Chops $.25 · Hamburger Steak $.25 · Tenderloin Steak, Tomato Sauce $.45 · Veal Cutlet, Plain or Breaded $.25 · Tenderloin Steak with Mushrooms $.50 · Ham Hash Browned $.15 · Corned Beef Hash, Browned $.15 · Country Sausages $.25 · Corned Beef Hash with One Poached Egg $.20 · English Mutton Chops, Single $.25 · Broiled or Fried Ham $.25 · English Mutton Chops, Brace $.40 · Pork Tenderloin $.25 · Rib of Veal, Single $.15 · Brace $.25 · Lamb Chops $.25 · Country Sausage $.25 · Broiled Pig’s Feet $.25 · Liver and Bacon $.25

EGGS Two Fried or Boiled $.15 · Three Poached Plain $.20 · Bacon and Eggs to Order $.25 · Three Fried or Boiled $.20 · Two Poached on Toast $.20 · Omelet, Ham or Oyster $.25 · Two Scrambled $.15 · Three Poached on Toast $.25 · Omelet, Plain $.20 · Three Scrambled $.20 · Frizzled Beef and Eggs $.25 · Omelet, Parsley $.25 · Two Poached Plain $.15 · Ham and Eggs to Order $.25 · Omelet, Rum $.25

VEGETABLES Stewed Tomatoes $.10 · Cauliflower $.15 · Lettuce $.10 · Potatoes, Fried to Order $.10 · Stewed Corn $.10 · Sliced Onions $.10 · Potatoes, French Fried $.10 · Green Peas $.10 · Extra Cabbage $.05 · Potatoes, Fried Saratoga $.10 · Succotash $.10 · Green Peas $.10 · Potatoes, Mashed $.05 · Spinach $.10 · Celery $.10 · Potatoes, Lyonnaise $.10 · Boiled Onions $.10 · Boiled Sweet Potatoes $.05 · Fried Sweet Potatoes $.10

LOBSTERS Broiled, Half $.30 · Whole $.50 · Stewed, Half $.30 · Whole $.50 · Plain, Half $.25 · Whole $.50

LAMB’S TONGUE $.10 · TWO $.15

NOTICE

Please Pay Your Check at the Door You Leave

Overcoats, Hats Etc. May Be Checked at the Greenwich Street Entrance.

The Proprietor is Not Responsible for Articles Not Checked.

OYSTERS AND CLAMS Raw $.20 · Saddle Rocks, Raw $.25 · Little Neck Clams, Raw, Half Shell $.20 · Raw, One Dozen $.30 · Saddle Rocks, One Dozen $.40 · Little Neck Clam Stew $.20 · Stew $.20 · Saddle Rock Stew $.35 · Little Neck Clam Fry $.25 · Box Stew $.25 · Saddle Rock Fry $.35 · Little Neck Clams, Baked $.30 · Milk Stew $.25 · Saddle Rock Broil $.35 · Little Neck Clam Roast $.25 · Fry $.25 · Saddle Rock Broil, Milk Toast $.40 · Little Neck Clams, Steamed $.25 · Steamed $.25 · Saddle Rock Pan Roast $.35 · Little Neck Clam Fritters $.25 · Oyster Omelet $.25 · Saddle Rock Roast, Half Shell $.40 · Soft Clam Stew $.20 · Broil with Cream $.30 · Saddle Rock Fancy Roast $.45 · Soft Clam Fry $.25 · Broil on Toast $.25 · Saddle Rocks, Steamed $.40 · Soft Clam Fritters $.25 · Broil on Milk Toast $.35 · Saddle Rocks, Fricasseed $.40 · Soft Clam Broil $.25 · Pan Roast $.30 · Saddle Rock Broil, Cream $.35 · Soft Clam Roast $.25 · Roast on Half Shell $.30 · Soft Clams, Cow Bay, Fry with Bacon $.25 · Fancy Roast $.30 · Fricasseed Oysters $.30 · Soft Clams, Steamed $.25 · Scallops, Fried or Broiled $.30

STEWS Stewed Tripe, to Order $.20 · Beef $.15 · Veal $.15 · Stewed Tripe with Oysters $.25 · Lamb $.15 · Oyster $.20 · Irish Stew $.15 · Lamb with Green Peas $.20 · Stewed Mushrooms $.25

COLD MEATS WITH POTATO SALAD Roast Duck $.35 · Roast Lamb $.15 · Smoked Beef Tongue $.25 · Corned Beef $.15 · Roast Chicken $.35 · Roast Veal $.15 · Ham $.15 · Turkey $.30 · Roast Beef, Loin $.25

SALADS Chicken $.25 · Celery $.05 · Lobster $.30 · Potato $.05 · Lettuce $.10

PUDDINGS — Wine with Puddings, $.05 Extra Apple $.10 · Bread $.10 · Plum $.10 · Bromangelon Jelly $.05 · Tapioca $.10 · Rice $.10 · Cold Rice $.10 · Apple Tapioca $.10 · Baked Suet $.10 · Catskill $.10 · Bird’s Nest $.10 · Apple Dumpling, Boiled $.10 · Apple Dumpling, Baked $.10

PIES Mince $.10 · Pumpkin $.10 · Apple $.10 · Cocoanut $.10 · Lemon Meringue $.10 · Custard $.10

Tea, Coffee and Chocolate, per Cup $.05 · per Pot $.10 · with Pitcher of Cream $.06 Extra · Vienna Coffee, per Cup $.10 · Postum Cereal Coffee $.05

TOAST Dry $.10 · Buttered $.10 · Milk $.15 · Cream $.20

GRIDDLE CAKES WITH MAPLE SYRUP OR STRAINED HONEY Rice Cakes $.10 · Wheat Cakes $.10 · Indian Cakes $.10 · Buckwheat Cakes $.10

DAIRY DISHES Oatmeal and Milk $.10 · Oatmeal, Bowl of Cream $.20 · Cup Custard $.10 · Rice and Milk $.10 · Milk per Glass $.05 · Cream, per Glass $.10 · Crackers (all kinds) and Milk $.10 · Milk, per Bowl $.05 · Cream, per Bowl $.15 · Rice and Pitcher of Cream $.10 · Oatmeal, Pitcher of Cream $.10 · Rice and Bowl of Cream $.20 · Bread and Milk $.10

WELSH RAREBIT $.20 · GOLDEN BUCK $.25

FANCY CAKES Jumbles $.05 · Raisin Cake $.05 · German Pancake $.20 · Wine Cake $.05 · French Pancake $.15 · Sponge Cake $.05 · Chocolate Eclair $.05 · Banana Cake $.05 · Cream Cake $.05

BREAD French · Oatmeal · Entire Wheat · Vienna · Rye and Gluten · Home-made · English Muffins, each $.05 · Health Bread

FRUIT AND PRESERVES Oranges, each $.05 · Apples, each $.05 · Apple Sauce $.05 · Canned Peaches $.10 · Hot Baked Apples $.10 · Canned Pears $.10 · Stewed Prunes $.05 · Stewed Apples $.05

ICE CREAM Vanilla $.10 · Chocolate $.10 · Strawberry $.10 · Lemon $.10 · Neapolitan $.10 · French $.15

GOLDEN RUSSET CIDER $.25 PER BOTTLE.

Without rules, society would collapse into chaos. That’s especially true when dining out, which requires a basic understanding of human decency. The entire restaurant experience is built on hungry flesh-and-blood strangers knowing how to behave. You might think you’re above such codes of conduct, but you’re not. No one is.

This is where The Supersonic’s Restaurant Do’s & Don’ts Vol. 1 comes in: a definitive, ever-evolving guide to eating with a little dignity. These are more than suggestions: manners are the only things separating us from banana-smashing rage monkeys.

Do you have any additions? Email us your personal dos and don'ts here. We’re out here doing God’s work.

👍 DO: Place your phone face down on the table. Hopefully, in the future, all restaurants will ban phones.

👎 DON’T: Answer a call. Step away. Step outside. Step anywhere that isn’t here. For the love of all that’s holy, do not subject the restaurant to your inane conversation.

👍 DO: Volunteer to make the reservation. It’s not that hard, but it’s nice to be the person who says, “I’ll make the resy.”

👎 DON’T: Ghost on that reservation. What are you, a monster?

👍 DO: Eat sushi in one bite. That’s how it’s done: the fish-to-rice ratio is designed for a single chomp.

👎 DON’T: Dip your sushi into your soy sauce multiple times. It’s not a Chicken McNugget. And remember: dip it (once) fish side down.

👍 DO: Walk in. Live dangerously! You may get lucky and score a two-top somewhere buzzy. There are cancellations all the time.

👎 DON’T: Turn your nose up at diners. Every place booked? Greasy spoons are built to feed folks on the go. You cannot go wrong with a BLT and a side of fries. Hey, get a chocolate milkshake while you’re at it.

👍 DO: Enjoy a long, lazy lunch. It was good enough for Don Draper.

👎 DON’T: Stop eating slop bowls. You’re busy, we get it. Grab a sandwich instead. Nobody should be eating $20 hubcaps full of bougie chow.

👍 DO: Get gussied up. When was the last time you put on a tie? Is there a little black dress that hasn’t been seen in public since last year? It’s okay to look nice.

👎 DON’T: Wear sweatpants. True story: every night of the week, someone wears their gym clothes to some upscale bistro, and it’s a vibe killer.

👍 DO: Stand in line. Why not? The aquachile verde is incredible.

👎 DON’T: Complain while standing in line. This is the price you pay for the incredible aquachile verde.

👍 DO: Make eye contact with your server. Yes, you have social anxiety. Who doesn’t? But when you’re in public, we really must insist you engage with other human beings.

👎 DON’T: Roll your eyes during the spiel. Listen to the specials. Appreciate a job well done. It’s part of the show.

👍 DO: Ask for a wine recommendation. Smile while you do it. This is fun. Why does everyone have to be an expert?

👎 DON’T: Slurp the wine when you taste it. Oh, you’re a sommelier? No? We know.

👍 DO: Order all the apps. Life is short. Spend the money — none of us are retiring anyway.

👎 DON’T: Order just the crudo. That’s barely a mouthful for one person.

👍 DO: Make yourself happy. You want chicken tendies? Great, get them.

👎 DON’T: Apologize for loving chicken tendies. They’re delicious. Do what you want.

👍 DO: Eat the table butter. First things first.

👎 DON’T: Ask for more bread. Unless you intend to eat it as well. And by all means, carb it up.

👍 DO: Tell a corny, off-color joke at the table. Don’t have a joke? Tell a funny story, instead. Ask a silly question. Once upon a time, before screens, we had to entertain each other. It’s a good thing.

👎 DON’T: Be obnoxious. You want them laughing with you, not cringing because you made it weird.

👍 DO: Make a mess. It’s BBQ, a shrimp boil, birria. Get in there. The handiwipe is there for a reason.

👎 DON’T: Eat the last splotch of guacamole with your fingers. Everyone gets why you’d do that, but don’t.

👍 DO: Bum a smoke after the meal. If you want.

👎 DON’T: Wonder why you smell like an ashtray. You made a choice. Choices have consequences. Etc.

👍 DO: Try new foods. Challenge yourself. Grow. After all, cultivating taste is about experiencing things you may not find palatable.

👎 DON’T: Spit out foods you don’t like. What, are you twelve? Don’t like the texture of okra? Too bad, swallow it down.

👍 DO: Finish the whole Italian sub. You know, the one with prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, hot soppressata, arugula, and hot pepper spread on Stirato bread.

👎 DON’T: Sheepishly say “I’ll finish the rest later.” It’s going to get soggy, anyway.

👍 DO: Order the damn dessert. And whatever you do, don’t say “I can’t” or “I shouldn’t.” You can, you should, one molten chocolate lava cake coming up.

👎DON’T: “Steal a bite.” That’s how you get stabbed with a fork. You should have ordered your own molten chocolate lava cake, but you didn’t. Live with your decisions.

👍 DO: Gnaw on the bones. Chicken wings are not meant to be nibbled. Chew on that cartilage, king.

👎 DON’T: Talk with your mouth full. This is something everyone should have learned as a child, but guess what? Not everyone did.

👍 DO: Tip 20%. It’s part of the ticket price. Every great meal you’ve ever had has been project-managed by a server who knows what they’re doing — attentive, friendly, keeping the train running on time.

👎 DON’T: Order DoorDash. That shit is so expensive now. There are always items missing, and the food arrives cold. Put on pants and go out into the world.

👍 DO: Say please. For instance: “Can we get the check, please?”

👎 DON’T: Ask for the check by scribbling your signature in the air. No one — absolutely no one — likes a mime.

👍 DO: Ask for extra mayo. You never can have enough. If anyone asks, tell them this is how it’s done “in Europe” before dipping your fry.

👎 DON’T: Get mayo shamed. There are going to be people in your life who will attempt to “yuck your yum.” Do not let them.

👍 DO: Grab a nightcap. What is a nightcap? It’s the way old school hedonists did it: one more for the road. A final little drinky-poo.

👎 DON’T: Close the bar. Unless that’s the plan. If that’s the plan, good for you. YOLO.

👍 DO: Join Blackbird. Eat out. Earn rewards. Life is good.

👎 DON’T: Forget to tap the puck.

Jeremy Salamon is the Beard-nominated chef/owner of Brooklyn’s Agi’s Counter. And he’s hiring. In a recent Instagram post, Salamon shared some straight talk on the current recruiting season. He doesn’t hold back, and it’s a breath of fresh air. With his permission, we’re republishing it. Drop your take in the comments.

I gotta be honest, and I can really only speak for the restaurant industry, or at least my small corner of Brooklyn, but this hiring cycle has been eye-opening.

A few candid thoughts for cooks applying to leadership roles (but not limited to):

• Three months at a pop-up or casual spot without prior experience does not automatically equal professional kitchen or leadership experience. There’s nothing wrong with being newer to the industry, but honesty matters. Don’t lie on your résumé. People figure it out quickly.

• Consistency matters. Personally, I’d rather see someone grow and stay in one place for a few years than bounce between impressive names every six months. Reliability, humility, and growth say more to me than prestige.

• Please don’t put trails on your résumé as work experience. A trail is exposure, not employment. It’s like listing the places you interviewed at. Clarifying that internships (paid or unpaid) and volunteer opportunities are great to list!

A chef once told me, “I’d rather hire the grill cook from Five Guys who worked there for five years than the one-year cook from Eleven Madison Park.” That still rings true to me.

• Dress for the job you want. Maybe that sounds old school, but presentation matters. You don’t need a suit, but showing up to an interview in an oversized, torn sweatshirt tells me something immediately.

• If you’re coming in for a trial, show up prepared. Bring a notebook. Bring your knives if you have them. Be ready to listen, learn, take notes, and work cleanly.

• Don’t spend your interview talking badly about your previous chef, restaurant, or coworkers. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth immediately. Every kitchen has challenges, but professionalism matters.

And for anyone reading this: the NYC restaurant industry is very small. It may seem huge, but everybody knows each other one way or another. Reputations travel fast. Be mindful of how you carry yourself.

• Small independent restaurants are doing the best they can. Most of us cannot afford $40/hour line cooks. But you should absolutely and always advocate for yourself professionally.

• If the compensation or schedule doesn’t work for you, say so. Communicate. No chef or owner is a mind reader. Clear communication is one of the biggest things that sets people apart.

• If you already work another full-time job, try to disclose that upfront. There’s zero judgment. This industry is hard, and people do what they need to do. That being said, burnout is real. Some people can do it, some can’t. What matters is honesty, self-awareness, and consistently showing up ready to work.

• And for the cooks applying right now: don’t lose heart. You’ll have bad trails, awkward interviews, services that humble you, and jobs that aren’t the right fit. That’s part of it. The cooks who last are rarely the loudest or flashiest. They’re the ones who keep showing up. The ones who stay curious, move with humility, ask questions, communicate honestly, and quietly get better over time. There is a kitchen for you out there, one where your rhythm, your personality, your cooking make sense. Keep showing up. Keep cooking. The right opportunities will come.

At the end of the day, every chef and owner I know is looking for the same thing: someone reliable, communicative, hardworking. Skills can be taught. Attitude, consistency, and professionalism are a lot harder to teach.

With all that being said… Agi’s is hiring, and I really would love to meet you! This is not to scare anyone off; I am tired of seeing the same thing over and over again. I know I’m not only speaking for myself here.

Jeff Ayars heads video at Blackbird, produces independent films, and formerly field-produced stories for MSNBC and NBC News.

On a sweaty night last July, I went restaurant-hopping with wunderkind chef Marcin Król in anticipation of his pop-up collaboration with Blackbird. I had recently acquired the go-to camera of the performative male community, and was duty-bound to document every morsel that hit the table. Dishes were rotated, hands were frozen, chopsticks were balanced. I accepted my position as Vibe-Killer-In-Chief. Does that lemon have another squeeze left? Can the coup glass have more condensation? Strike the seafood tower — the ice looks like it’s from AMC.

For a little while, though, snapping such photos scratched my cinematic itch.

Then, suddenly, I was struck with an existential question: “why?” Why was I trying so hard? Don’t we all know that trying isn’t cool? Or, more to the point of this piece: does anyone really want to see, let alone believe, your perfectly orchestrated food porn that serves no greater purpose than a grating social media flex?

I happened to catch the precise retort to my question in 47.3 megapixels: Chef Król absentmindedly using his (outdated) iPhone to snap a single shot. Done. Back to eating. Dude was locked, in the zone, with no time for performative documentation.

If this article has made its way to you, I’d wager you’re likely responsible for a handful of the 1.5 trillion photos taken per year — an estimated 85 billion of which are of food. That’s over two-thousand photos every second.

Should we stop this madness? Yes! But of course we won’t. The only alternative is to photograph our food in a more nonchalant way. So, whether said photos wind up on your grid, in a magazine spread, or rotting in your digital waste bin, I humbly present the following suggestions as someone who lets food get cold for a living.

Pretty food, ugly flash
The low-hanging fruit. Use your iPhone or the early aughts point-and-shoot that you just overpaid for on eBay. This has already saturated faux-casual culture, so limit yourself to one shot. Nothing says try-hard like blinding your server.

“I’m good, but I’m busy.”
If you insist on retaining some artistic integrity, grab the frame just after the perfect frame. Yes, you can set your blocking, dial in your light, line it up — but then miss it and move on.

Or miss the dish entirely
“I’m so busy (and present and grateful) that I totally forgot.”

The work flex
You’re not bragging, you’re so busy and this is all room service had.

The high-low
“I can’t resist but I’m self-aware.”

The confessional
Raw. Shameful. A cacio e pepe is as hard to photograph as it is to eat, but you can hear the antacids rattling into my hand.

Pure cinema
No amount of preparation could have achieved this, my most memorable food moment of the last seven years. The sunset, the graffiti, the waste, the temptation. Why didn’t they finish it? Where did they go? Why wasn’t I invited? The photo below is the only version that I found. I didn’t bother to adjust my shadow or crouch for a closeup. The result? An effortless snap that my adversary, Monsieur Marcin, might have taken.

But back to my night with Marcin

Like all art—and, yes, in this case I am really stretching the definition to include our ‘phone eats first’ shots—sometimes it’s what we choose to leave out that tells as much as what we include. Case in point: my night out last summer. Gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you what I ate that night. But my best photo? Sure. It’s this slapdash shot of Chef Król stealing the last seat from me at Sip & Guzzle, which captures the vibe of that evening better than any perfectly-framed food photo could have. Sometimes nice guys finish last, and nice photos don’t do numbies. In the end, I didn’t get my nightcap, I certainly didn’t photograph it, and yet I slept like a baby.

My advice? Don’t try. But if you must, make sure nobody knows.

Baker. Grocer. Mensch. Eli Zabar is a man who needs no introduction, especially here in his hometown of NYC. We caught up with the OG Foodie (a term we are sure would make him bristle) in a corner booth at his eponymous UES spot Eli’s Table to talk Parisian power lunches, the transcendence of a simple, honest meal, and why he loathes black and white cookies.

My mother wasn’t a very good cook, and she didn’t cook many different things, but she made copious amounts. Dinner wasn’t complete without a couple of boiled chickens, couple of roasted chickens, then there would be boiled beef, and this is all the same meal. We had a house up in the country. There was a farmer across the road. My brother Stanley would run out and get the corn. They’d just picked it, you know, and he’d run home with it, and so we had corn, and there was always some vegetables and these platters of steaks, grilled steaks.

This was in Putnam County, in an area called Mohegan Colony. Mostly full of real lefties, communists. My parents would invite everybody to come over. We were in the food business, so we had tons of food, Sunday morning bagels and lox and white fish and herring, different kinds of herring, rye bread, thick sliced rye bread, all in copious amounts. Men would talk politics. It was loud. I was five, six years old. My parents spoke English to me, but spoke Yiddish among the group, and sometimes Russian. This was 1949, 1950, the war wasn’t so far behind. That’s my first association with food.

The first time I had real French food, in France, I was 17. I was with a friend of mine. We were on a bike trip through Europe. Stopping in little villages, sleeping where we could. I remember going to a grocery store. I remember buying a baguette and a Camembert, and I remember opening that Camembert. It had a kind of raw milk smell that I’d never experienced before. That slightly barnyard smell that comes from raw milk. It wasn’t even ripe all the way through. It had a little chalkiness, and still it was delicious. I was 17. We were on bikes. I was free.

The original La Petite Ferme was down in Greenwich Village, and it was owned by this French guy whose family came from Burgundy. Let me talk about this place, okay. It was down on, like, Charles Street, where the Village could still be extremely charming. It was very small, very few choices on the menu. And they had cuckoo birds. They had birds in cages that were cooing during the meal. I mean, it was very rustic. This was a gay guy who had extraordinary taste and everything was really delicious. It was so simple, like, big bowls of mussels in kind of a vinaigrette with red onion served at room temperature. Doesn’t sound interesting, but they were delicious. I loved that place. They eventually came up here to 71st on Lexington and it failed. But there was a time, you know, that Jackie Onassis went there. Society went there, but it was really, really good and full of its own style.

There was a place called Steinberg’s Dairy Restaurant between 81st and 82nd on Broadway. There was a time when, you know, in the 1920s, ‘30s, ‘40s, if you were Jewish and upwardly mobile, that’s where you lived. Riverside Drive. West End. Sometimes on Broadway. Otherwise over on Central Park West. That was the mecca of wealth. There were all kinds of restaurants and one of them was this dairy restaurant called Steinberg’s. They only made dairy. They made the most delicious blueberry blintzes, and they were crispy. They were fried. My mother made blintzes, and they were very good, but they were soft. Steinberg’s only made them with cheese. They made them with blueberries, and they served them with sour cream. That was absolutely delicious. I would go with my two brothers. I was a kid. It lasted until I was about 18.

They had maybe a 20-foot mural. A mural, a painting, on the wall. It was very New York, very 1920s kind of WPA project from the Depression. It was of young people under the George Washington Bridge having a picnic. I remember it so well because in the end, when the restaurant closed and the building got sold, one of my brothers bought the building and took the mural. Now it’s in his dining room. Every time I go over there, I see it and it brings back memories.

We have a house down in the Provence area, and I have a big wood fired, kind of pizza oven that looks like it’s been there since the Middle Ages, but we actually installed it. It’s outside. I’ve never turned on the oven inside the house. I demand that everything we make has to be cooked in this oven. It’s kind of a discipline to make things the old way. If you want to bake pastry in this oven, you’ve got to wait to the very, very end when the fire has actually gone away, and the oven is still basically a little hot. And you know it by feeling it, by feeling the temperature. And let me tell you, I’ve screwed up so many things in that oven. I’ve burnt my bread a thousand times. I love it when Oliver comes. My sons Oliver and Sasha, they’re very careful. I’m burning things left and right, and they’re very careful. I make bread every day.

I used to be a slave to the bread making process. Because bread, bread doesn’t wait. Everything had natural yeast, a natural starter, sourdough, you know, when it’s ready, it’s ready. It’s like a soufflé. You’re ready for it. It’s not ready for you. I keep playing with the flour. I keep playing, playing with the grains. I get the amount of water and the amount of mother. It takes about five days for the mother—which has been sitting in the refrigerator since I left in September of the year before—to kind of revitalize itself. Maybe a week. Sometimes, after three days, I begin to think it’s dead and it’s not going to come back. I have sleepless evenings over that. And finally, it does, it does come back.

I’ve been yelled at so many times at markets in France. Thousands of times! I like to eat little things along the way. The French don’t like that. It’s not part of their culture. To give samples. It’s very rare. It’s not like when you go to farmers markets here in New York. I’ve gotten severely embarrassed. I mean embarrassed. Called out. I wish to disappear. I’ve been called out so many times that my wife won’t go with me to a market without a promise that I won’t touch anything.

It’s very hard to find fresh peas. You’ve got to take a pod or two, you know, stick your hand in and open it up, eat the pea. I mean, otherwise they taste woody. No, I taste everything as I’m going through the market.

There’s a big chocolatier in Zurich called Sprüngli. I walked in and on the shelf right behind one of the women working there they had challahs. So, okay, so I brought this challah. I ended up making bread pudding with in in Paris with Joanne. Johanne Killeen. She’s my wine wife. She owns Al Forno restaurant in Providence, Rhode Island, which is arguably one of the most delicious restaurants in America. They’re not actually in Providence. You’ve got to go over a bridge to get there. Her husband, George, who passed away about six or eight years ago, invented this grilled pizza. It’s very, very thin, and they do it on a grill, on a charcoal grill, and it burns a little bit. And they put all kinds of toppings on it. It’s a vernacular. It’s Italian. It’s, you know, Providence is like Italian. It’s Portuguese, but it’s like American Italian. George came from Yonkers, you know. He and Johanne, they’re not Italian, but they’ve spent so much time in Italy that they kind of married the most, finest, and delicious aspects of Italy with this, with the vernacular, the American vernacular of Italian food. So they come up with something that’s totally delicious. Portions are enormous. It’s a unique, unique place in America.

I had my birthday at Troisgros a few years back. And I’d say, of all of the quote ‘fancy restaurants,’ that one stands head and shoulders above every one of them. Why? Because it’s a family restaurant, and that kind of hospitality is true hospitality. They care about you, and they talk to you like they care about you and they treat you like they care about you, like you’re going into somebody’s home. There’s no other restaurant like it. It’s about an hour, an hour and a half southwest of Lyon. It’s famous, three Michelin stars, but I’m not interested in most of those kinds of meals. But I love this place. I went there for the first time when I was about 31 or 32 years old. The family had a hotel for many generations, and they had a restaurant downstairs. The father’s two sons had taken over the place and had built it into something very special. I remember staying there for four or five days. I told one of the two brothers, I said, ‘I’m in the business,’ even though I’d only been in business for a couple of years. He said, ‘well, come with me to market. If you can get up at five, we’ll go to the market together.’ He had a little French van, you know, and we went to the market. I helped him carry the cheeses and helped him carry the meat. I helped him carry things into this van. And when I left, he gave me a bundle of Havana cigars. They came wrapped together with a ribbon. It was a bundle. It was like a gift. It’s that spirit, that spirit of giving back. I would say, that was among my inspirations for my whole life. And it confirmed what I thought good food was.

I don’t think anybody should be at the table for more than an hour and a half or two hours. Unless you’re with the most boisterous, wonderful group of buddies, and then it doesn’t make any difference what you’re eating, right? But a Michelin-starred restaurant, that’s not the kind of place you’re going to have that experience.

I’m looking for very simple food, just very simple food, well prepared. I mean, where it appears that not much has been done to it. But in fact, there’s been a great amount of thought to getting it exactly right, right in terms of… it’s hard to describe where everything kind of works because, you know, it’s an amalgam of a lot of different things. When you talk about meals, you’re talking about putting a lot of different things together. It’s not just the food, it’s the glasses. It’s the glass. It’s the wine list. It’s the choice of wines on the list. It’s a million things. Very few places really put the whole picture together. I, as I said, I think Troisgros puts the whole picture together.

There are lots of places that I like here in the city. I like Penny a lot, okay? And I like Claud a lot. I like the lobster at Penny. I like that it’s cooked there. It’s not like they made it mise en place a couple of hours ago, and then dip it in some warm broth before it comes out. I mean, it’s, like, made there, and it’s right.

Parcelles is a restaurant in Paris. The menu hardly ever changes. It’s got a few appetizers and a few main courses. I like it. I like the wines. I like the glasses. I like the true energy, the true understanding of the people that work there. I don’t even know their names. They probably change. And, you know, I order the same things every time I go, the menu doesn’t change a whole lot.

What else? What could I tell you? Where are we in this thing, in terms of restaurants, places, meals? My twins, Oliver and Sasha, it’s great coming together with them, because they actually bring a new, a young vibe to it, and they appreciate things. We went over to Sushi Noz — you gotta go there. The guy makes it all fresh, right? I went there with Sasha. It was a Sunday, four o’clock. They were going to the movies, and before they went to the movies, they were going there. So I met them there.

Le Griffonnier is a place in Paris that you’ve got to go to. It’s right off the Élysée Palace. It only serves lunch, and it’s like three guys hustling as fast as they can. It’s like Paris’ Midtown Power Lunch place. Everybody is wearing suits, smoking cigarettes, drinking wine. It’s not expensive. They have a little table right outside the door for the smokers to eat, and every time you want to leave, one of the three people at the table has to move. They have to stand up in order to get the door open. The place is packed, okay? Everybody’s, like, very French. It’s about 70 percent men, 3 percent women. And the women, they know it. They’ve been there. They’re treated like men, you know? It’s a very cool. One of my closest French friends, who’s in the wine business, took me there. Every March, his friend of mine and I and Oliver and Johanne, my wine wife, we go there, we go have this lunch. We look forward to this lunch.

I like Shake Shack. I like that crispy burger. And a vanilla milkshake. I love a vanilla milkshake with a heavy dose of ice cream, mostly ice cream, not too much.

I have the lowest possible opinion of people who like black and white cookies. I mean, listen, I make, we make black and white cookies. We have guys in my pastry shop making black and white cookies all day long. We just spent, like, $60,000 on a machine that can make the batter that we can bake into black and white cookies. But I’ll go back to my earlier statement. I have the lowest possible opinion of anybody who likes a black and white cookie. I like cookies that have lots of butter in them. There’s no black and white recipe that has that. They make them with oil or margarine or shortening. I mean, it’s a goyish American affectation. Having said that, my wife loves black and white cookies. My kids, too.

There’s this American guy in Paris, he’s 25 and he opened a little tiny bakery. His name is Jack Henry. The bakery is, like, very narrow. He works all day long by himself. He apprenticed at some very interesting places. He worked on the line at Estela when he was, like, 16 or something. I mean this guy, so he makes this kind of whole grain buttery cookie that’s crunchy, crunchy, and then he puts a filling of leeks that he’s cooked in butter and some greens and some other stuff, and he covers it with another cookie, so it’s rectangular, and it comes out of the oven and he crimps the edges. When that comes out of the oven and you eat that, that crunchy, that butteriness… it’s absolutely delicious. He’s on Rue de Tournon, down from the Luxembourg Gardens. I don’t know how he makes a living, but it’s cool.

This was great. It’s… it’s free association. It’s like therapy. Thank you.

To say we live in an uptight era just might be the understatement of the year. Drinking and socializing are out. Self-optimization is in (we see you, bro). You can blame all this on doomscrolling, dating apps, fear of AI, the paradox of choice — the list goes on and on.

Our collective uptightness applies to dining, too. The hot table, bucket list restaurants, the must-have (and document!) viral dish. This is nothing particularly new. Countless apps and content series have made us all culinary experts, trekking the world like roving gourmands with our smart phones firmly in hand. And most of the time, we condone this type of behavior! Being gastronomically adventurous is a good thing, for both guests and restaurants alike. However, the downside of this means we’ve all become—on some level—insufferable, hype-chasing snobs. There comes a time when we could all just…relax.

Well, that time is now. Below, our proposal for 25 simple restaurant pleasures to abide by this spring when you just want to get back to the basics and dine like no one’s watching.

25.) Put your phone away
We’ll dispense with the obvious first, aka a sin of which we’re all guilty. You’re there with people you actually want to be with, right? And if you’re alone, eat, imbibe, and people watch, just like olden times.

24.) No work talk
Even at a business dinner! Also: forget humble bragging about being busy, it’s tacky.

23.) Never modify your meal
You are not the chef, and in the chef you trust.

22.) Don’t nitpick reservation times
A hotspot can take you at 10:30 p.m. on Sunday? Great, accept the reservation. Go ingratiate yourself and maybe next time they’ll seat you at a more reasonable hour. Big things have small beginnings.

21.) Wait on a line
There’s a reason why Via Carota and other iconic/dependable spots of its ilk always have folks queued up. You are not smarter or savvier than them. Go join the fray. It’s worth it.

20.) Make friendly eye contact
This applies to everyone working at the restaurant you’re patronizing.

19.) Have a cocktail order
A go-to drink signals something about yourself to the rest of the world. You’re confident. Consistent. You live by a code. Don’t look at the menu. Don’t ask annoying questions. Order. Drink. Rinse and repeat.

18.) Don’t split the bill
Going Dutch and itemizing everything is for cheapskates. Once in a while, cover the whole shebang, even if you didn’t have an appetizer and only swilled one glass of wine. Live large. The good karma will return to you in spades.

17.) Or your entree
Order decisively and eat with no regrets.

16.) A salad cancels out the order of fries
Just ask RFK, Jr.

15.) Forget the valet
Get some steps in!

14.) Have a finely-tuned fried chicken radar
You should know the best fried chicken sandwich within a 10 mile radius of your home.

13.) Embrace mid pizza
No, not all the time. But have a mid pizza joint in your rotation that never has a line and always serves acceptable slices.

12.) Don’t read internet reviews
Or write your own. Not everyone needs to be a critic.

11.) Always do an amaro
Bonus points if you use it to wash down an affogato.

10.) Ask for more bread
“Don’t fill up,” they say. That will never happen…

9.) Fridays are for liquid lunch
Get your work done and get out of the office. Drink good wine while it’s still light out.

8.) And conduct an affair while you’re there
If you must, of course. Just ask the French. Look for a sleepy little joint where you won’t be spotted making eyes at each other.

7.) Tap water is fine
So is the house red.

6.) Ask for a bottle of A-1
Go ahead. It’s your steak.

5.) Be a regular at a local spot
Just don’t bring your first dates there.

4.) Have an order
What applies to drinks applies to meals, too. Are you club sandwich coded? A shrimp cocktail fiend? Steak frites toujours? Pick a lane.

3.) Say ‘yes’ to meatballs
Bolognese, too. These are the meals sure to coax out that inner child your therapist says you’ve long been neglecting.

2.) Good meals are like good sex…
They should always conclude with a cigarette.

1.) Linger over lunch
In a world rife with self-optimization mania, a leisurely meal and nowhere else to be signals the ultimate in luxury. Plus if it’s lunch, the restaurant staff isn’t trying to turn tables. Stay until the sun sets. Just make sure to keep ordering, and do tip well.

Colin Camac (aka @resyguynyc) is officially Blackbird’s “Strategic Sales Lead,” and unofficially is our resident insider’s insider. He is out, on the town seven nights a week, sniffing out the city’s best joints, skateboard in one hand, martini in the other.

After a whirlwind week in Mexico, my girlfriend Marcela and I returned to NYC to do what we do best, namely, check out spots new and old. Needless to say, the two weeks below did not disappoint, and I was able to congregate with many of my favorite folks in the industry. All of which made the inclement weather more than manageable.

All the restaurants and bars below our worth first time or repeat visits, so add ‘em to your list, friends.

Colin

Coqodaq
📍 Flatiron
🍽️ Korean

Why I Ate Here: Last minute invite when friends’ table had extra seats after people left early to beat the snow. Simon Kim’s temple to Korean fried chicken is always a fun landing spot, especially on a chaotic weather night.

Who I Ate With: Lala (host of Put It In My Mouth podcast), Marcela, Lucy (Steak Club / The Wild Honey Pie), and my friend Gloria who was in town from LA for work.

What I Ate: Champagne picked by sommelier Fred, caesar salad, 24 karat nuggs topped with caviar (a must), regular and soy garlic chicken (my preference over gochujang), cold perilla noodles, and soft serve before heading back out into the snow.

Bistrot Ha
📍Lower East Side
🍽️ French-Vietnamese

Why I Ate Here: After years as a pop-up and then a snack bar, the Ha’s team opened their first full restaurant — one of the most hyped openings of the year.

Who I Ate With: Emmett Burke (owner of Emmett’s).

What I Ate: Bright, punchy dishes heavy on fish sauce, lime and chilies. Sticky rice with pork and foie in fish sauce with pickles was the standout. Also crab salad eclair, leeks vinaigrette with mussels, and profiteroles.

Corima (Eliane pop-up)
📍 Mexican
🍽️ Chinatown

Why I Ate Here: Pop-up from Kobe Desramaults of Eliane and In de Wulf, hosted at one of my favorite restaurants in NYC.

Who I Ate With: Phillip Kirschen-Clark (chef/owner of Phillip Marie).

What I Ate: Corima’s house flour tortilla (the best here), potato with caviar, turbot in reduced mussel sauce. Curveballs included a brain taco and mushroom and abalone tostada. Mezcal throughout.

Chin Up Bar
📍 Nolita
🍽️ Cocktail Bar

Why I Ate Here: Brand new LES gin-focused bar — one of my two spirits of choice.

Who I Ate With: Jenna Ransom (artist) and Chef Phillip Kirschen-Clark.

What I Ate: Perfectly made house martini and a dealer’s choice cocktail with gin, curry, coconut, apricot and lime. Fried clams and a strong raw bar.

Le Veau d’Or
📍Upper East Side
🍽️ French

Why I Ate Here: Team lunch done properly at one of my favorite dining rooms in the city.

Who I Ate With: Timothy & Rachel (Blackbird team).

What I Ate: Salade lyonnaise, pate en croute (a must), steak frites, and poulet roti over mashed potatoes. Always fantastic service.

For All Things Good (TJ Steele pop-up)
📍 Bed-Stuy
🍽️ Mexican

Why I Ate Here: TJ Steele (chef/owner of Claro) doing a memelas pop-up at the Bed-Stuy molino.

Who I Ate With: My friend Thalia.

What I Ate: All five memelas. Pork rib over beans with cotija was my favorite. Soft braised chicharron prepared like trippa alla romana was a really fun play.

Superiority Burger
📍 East Village
🍽️ Vegetarian

Why I Ate Here: Presidents Day meeting in the East Village — stopped in for their underrated lunch service.

Who I Ate With: Marcela.

What I Ate: “The Ezekial 4:9 grilled cheese w/ pickled Norwich Farms daikon & carrots,” with creamed cabbage hidden inside and tangy pickles on the side. Incredible fries.

Moon & Back
📍 West Village
🍽️ Thai

Why I Ate Here: Valentine’s Day lunch wandering the Village looking for somewhere not insane.

Who I Ate With: The arcela.

What I Ate: Giant prawn with green nam jim and fried watercress salad, chicken & shrimp dumplings, khao soi that brought me back to Chiang Mai, and pork blood larb with dill.

Kees
📍 West Village
🍽️ Cocktail Bar

Why I Ate Here: Friends from PDT & Mixteca opened their long-awaited high-end bar.

Who I Ate With: Sarah (VP at Boka Restaurant Group).

What I Drank: Fancy vesper with Grey Goose, Tanqueray 10 and Chateau d’Yquem. Mini mezcal negronis with Del Maguey Tobala. Large backbar heavy on brown spirits.

Noz 17
📍 Chelsea
🍽️ Japanese

Why I Ate Here: Belated birthday dinner; downtown location of Sushi Noz with a shorter, more nigiri-focused format.

Who I Ate With: Sarah (VP at Boka Restaurant Group).

WhThe at I Ate: Kohada, young sea bream, bottarga with grilled mochi wrapped in nori, shirasu handroll with anchovy sauce, custardy tamago.

Bar Bianchi
📍 East Village
🍽️ Italian

Why I Ate Here: Industry family meal hosted by Jamie Gordon, longtime industry bar vet.

Who I Ate With: TJ Lynch (co-owner of Mother’s Ruin), Naama & Assaf Tamir (Lighthouse), Will Wyatt & Alex Thaboua (Electric Burrito / El Camino / High Life Burger).

What I Ate: Martinis, fantastic breadsticks, caesar salad, and a large serving of lasagna.

Golden Steer NYC
📍 Greenwich Village
🍽️ Steakhouse

Why I Ate Here: Las Vegas steakhouse import; excited to see how it translated to NYC.

Who I Ate With: Steak Club and Alexandra Shapiro (Hoexter’s / Flex Mussels).

What I Ate: Shrimp cocktail, oyster shooters, tableside caesar and wedge, tomahawk and porterhouse medium rare (preferred the char on the tomahawk), and tableside bananas foster.

Schmuck
📍 East Village
🍽️ Cocktail Bar

Why I Ate Here: Post-event stop; Barcelona import built to feel like several rooms in a large home.

Who I Ate With: Jamie Skrocki (runs memberships at ZZ’s Club).

What I Ate: Martini variation with blended vermouths topped with olive oil drops. Savory, food-inspired cocktails — I’ll be back for the Thai larb one.

I have seen every movie nominated for an Oscar this year because I spend a great deal of my free time at movie theaters with reclining seats and full-service menus.

I don’t know if I’m a cinephile, per se. I don’t have a Letterboxd account. I will watch almost anything: horror, action, period dramas. Mostly, I just like to emotionally eat in the dark. This isn’t a hobby or a coping mechanism. I need this. It’s my thing. My kink, though I don’t think it’s rooted in childhood trauma or anything particularly Freudian. I’m not going to write “don’t judge me,” because I don’t care if you judge me.

I gotta house this chicken goat cheese wrap while Jesse Buckley cries about her dead son.

When I’m sitting in a movie theater, cramming an overstuffed smashburger into my face, I am relieved of the burden of civilization. I can truly be my truest, most honest, and grotesque self.

The only person I have to make eye contact with is Leo DiCaprio’s giant head projected on a silver screen. I can disappear while sucking BBQ sauce off my fingers.

It’s a liberating act of radical surrender.

As a rule, I feel immense social pressure to wipe mayonnaise or hummus or Gochujang-paste from my beard when I’m in public, but not so when I’m sitting, feet up, in a vinyl La-Z-Boy-style theater seat. It is a safe space. Possibly, the safest.

​​It is no secret that the movie theater business is in steep decline. Ticket sales are down nearly a third from just five years ago, and the number of adults who go at least once a month fell 22 percent between 2019 and this year. There are various reasons for this, the growth of streaming platforms chief among them. People are staying home, binge-watching made-for-Netflix shows and movies, and slowly evolving into hideous, Cronenberg-esque couch-human hybrids.

There’s also a creeping behavioral problem: an epidemic of rudeness at the major chains. According to a recent poll, a third of moviegoers admitted to taking a call during a screening — 46 percent of millennials and 42 percent of Gen Zers. There’s barely anyone monitoring out-of-control texting or scrolling. Then there are the smaller indignities: the food options are limited, and commercials blare before trailers.

But the theaters where I like to debase myself aggressively discourage cellphone use, don’t shove ads down your throat before the show, and offer more sophisticated food options.

These theaters serve a surprisingly diverse selection of comfort foods that sit somewhere between upscale fast food and serviceable gastropub. One place serves filet mignon sliders with blue cheese, caramelized red onions, arugula, and garlic aioli. It’s bougie but tasty. I’ve ordered a perfectly fine tuna salad and snacked on blistered shishitos and fried pickles. My local sit-down theater serves a fried buffalo cauliflower sandwich that I’m really into. Even the popcorn is kicked up and tossed with truffles, Parmesan, or ranch seasoning. Old school Regal theaters? There’s only one option: butter-flavored car oil.

I’m not a drinker, but these theaters all have bars, and if you want an IPA, or a cocktail, or a spiked milkshake, they can make that happen.

Sometimes I go to the movies in the mornings, say 10 a.m. on a Saturday. I zoom right to my reserved seat (always an aisle) and order a coffee and French Toast sticks or a breakfast pizza with bacon, eggs, mozzarella, and scallions. Then I snarf it all down, blissfully checked out of reality, while zombies moan on the big screen.

I’m also not some anti-social loner. I enjoy eating at restaurants. I put my napkin on my lap and never slurp my soup. I can twirl pasta with a fork and splatter nothing. I have been known to attend dinner parties, where I laugh and make small talk, and no one knows that I am on autopilot, a human Waymo.

It’s just that if given the option, I’d rather put on sweatpants and do my best impersonation of a self-force-feeding foie gras duck while watching a Portuguese-language drama about political oppression in South America at a movie theater that also plays indie hits and black-and-white classics.

I’m not reinventing the wheel. There was a time when one of the cornerstones of American leisure time was the ‘dinner and a movie’ one-two punch. This was a classic couple activity—first dates, anniversaries, and regular ol’ Fridays. It was also one of the things you’d do with friends. I spent many nights in the late 90s watching Wesley Snipes movies on LSD with my best buds. Later, in the 2000s, I was a master at sneaking Taco Bell gordita crunches and Popeye’s biscuits into AMC theaters.

I’m sure there are still people who grab a bite at a nearby hotspot and then go to the multiplex. I’m not one of those people anymore. When I ask my wife if she wants to go see a movie, she knows what to expect: me, eating chicken wings while watching The Rock punch someone.

I’ll be honest with you because the internet is the one place in our society where being honest with countless strangers is rewarded with positive affirmations: it’s always midnight in a movie theater, and I do love munching on quality garbage as my eyes glaze over. I recently watched a sci-fi comedy about a time traveler, and I happily popped little pretzel dogs into my mouth after gently dunking them in a spicy mustard sauce. I ate those pigs-in-blankets with my pinky up, like a little French dauphin.

A few years ago, apropos of nothing, my therapist interrupted me—then looked me square in the eyes—and declared, “You need to get out more.” And I had been talking about a funny meme. I responded immediately, and defensively: “I go to the movies.”

And then I told him I go to the movies and gorge on mozzarella sticks. Yes, I go with my wife sometimes. And friends. But mostly, I like to drink Coke Zeros and eat loaded fries all by myself.

I reminded him, too, that when I’m at the movies, I am surrounded by the family of man, who are also mindlessly chomping away as light flickers in their dead eyes.

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Colin Camac (aka @resyguynyc) is officially Blackbird’s “Strategic Sales Lead,” and unofficially is our resident insider’s insider. He is out, on the town seven nights a week, sniffing out the city’s best joints, skateboard in one hand, martini in the other.

We're finally back after a brief hiatus for the holidays and some of the coldest weather we've seen in years. For this special edition, I'm taking you through my recent birthday trip to Mexico where I met my girlfriend Marcela's family, explored her hometown of San Juan Del Rio in Querétaro, hit coastal Baja, and revisited Mexico City favorites. This trip showed me how special Mexico is — every region has unique food and specialties, and the seafood was a revelation. If you're planning a trip south, use this as your guide.

Colin

Gorditas Doña Coco
📍 La Peña de Bernal
🍽️ Querétaro Gorditas

Why I Ate Here: Fresh off the plane, Marcela’s family insisted this spot near the base of one of the world’s tallest monolith boulders was a must-visit for gorditas. The town was hosting some sort of festival, so the streets were absolutely packed.

Who I Ate With: Marcela, her mother, and several family members who’ve been coming here for years. Most remembered the town as less commercialized, though nobody could say exactly when it changed.

What I Ate: After dodging crowds up the hill, we finally made it to this small indoor/outdoor stand. The table came set with salsas and escabeche. I ordered papa con chorizo, chicharrón prensado, and migajas with queso. The chicharrón prensado was the star—braised pork skin full of flavor with a chewy texture inside warm masa. The migajas, tiny bits of crispy pork mixed with cheese, was also a hit.

Maizajo
📍 Mexico City
🍽️ Masa-focused taqueria

Why I Ate Here: Pretty much everyone I spoke to pointed me toward Maizajo, a restaurant specializing in masa with a taqueria downstairs and fine dining upstairs. Our friend Cesar reserved us the taco chef’s counter — a small standing table in the middle of the kitchen.

Who I Ate With: Marcela, our friend Clara (an artist from Paris), and my friend Sam Morris, head bartender at Sip & Guzzle, who was in town for a brand trip.

What I Ate: As we walked upstairs for drinks, a cook handed each of us a fresh warm tortilla right off the comal with salt and salsa. That hospitality and corn flavor told me we were in for something special. At the kitchen counter, choices were taken from our hands. First up: a small fried tortilla filled with head-on shrimp and a sliver of mayo—like perfect shrimp tempura in a mini flauta, absolutely incredible. Their signature campechano taco—a mix of suadero and longaniza—burst with flavor, doctored with just a little lime. The brisket taco with guava mole was insane, bitter fruity notes meeting fatty BBQ-style brisket. Desserts were best in class, both the tres leches and flan.

Ultramarinos
📍 Mexico City
🍽️ Seafood

Why I Ate Here: I wanted a celebratory birthday lunch spot where we could have a long, boozy meal. Everyone suggested Ultramarinos over the classic Contramar, and I couldn’t be happier—it was one of the best meals I’ve had in a while.

Who I Ate With: The whole crew: Marcela, Clara, Thalia, Evan Sung, Omar, our friend Elias, plus Marcela’s mom and brother Gonzalo.

What I Ate: This is now a permanent stop on my Mexico City itinerary. We started with all three tostadas on the menu—shrimp, tuna, and caracol (snail). Shrimp may have been my favorite, but I’d order all of them again. The seafood tower for seven featured some of the best clams I’ve had—dressed with diced onion and bright mignonette. Tacos Gubernador—shrimp in slightly spicy tomato sauce with cheese on warm flour tortillas—shouldn’t be missed. My favorite dish of the trip came next: camarones a la parrilla, full shrimp sliced down the middle and cooked in a sauce of onions and its own head juices. They served these with tiny rolled bean tacos on the side to dip in the sauce. It had everything. The pasta roja con cangrejo (crab) with rigatoni would stand with the best Italian versions anywhere. Whole fish baked in sourdough and served tableside with buttery sauce and trout roe rounded out an EPIC meal.

Tacos El Franc
📍Tijuana
🍽️ Tacos

Why I Ate Here: When Frank C from Frankies tells you he just had the best tacos of his life in Baja, you listen. After consulting with Cesar, who helped plan the trip and confirmed how incredible they were, this became our first stop off the plane.

Who I Ate With: Cesar Sandoval (National Brand Rep for Casa Lumbre Spirits), Marcela, and me.

What I Ate: After a flight delay threatened to derail our packed Tijuana itinerary, we finally made it to this wildly busy spot. The inside is stark white with tons of people working behind counters — taqueros and a tortilla assembly line in perfect sync. We went for everything: tongue, cabeza, incredible carne asada, and my personal favorite, their adobada (al pastor). This place should not be missed on any visit to TJ.

La Carreta Guerrerense
📍Ensenada
🍽️ Seafood

Why I Ate Here: We arrived early hoping to catch Mariscos El Gordito before they sold out, but they weren’t opening for another hour. We pivoted to this cart about 10 minutes away—a mariscos shop specializing in stacked tostadas made famous by Bourdain.

Who I Ate With: Marcela.

What I Ate: Ensenada may have been the most eye-opening stop of the trip. This small seaside town had some of the best seafood I’ve ever had from roadside stands you could easily miss. Four people worked the cart, cleaning seafood and dressing tostadas. We ordered two each to try as many as possible. Within minutes we had plates with two tostadas piled impossibly high with the freshest seafood imaginable. All were mind-blowing, but the best was the #1 “Singapur”—crab salad topped with shrimp and octopus. The sweet crab salad was the perfect base for salty seafood. We also loved the campechana: tuna salad with shrimp, octopus, snails, scallop, and clam that hit you in the face with briny ocean flavors. They had about 10 salsas to doctor your tostadas to taste.

Mariscos El Gordito
📍Ensenada
🍽️ Seafood

Why I Ate Here: A small mariscos cart that routinely sells out within an hour or two of opening.

Who I Ate With: Marcela.

What I Ate: Around 12:05, I spotted someone with a large cup of coctel and found the small stand with three guys already working at a furious pace. It was amazing watching how fast and clean they worked — one making tostadas, one cleaning clams, another assembling cocteles. The coctel master was incredible to watch, tasting each one individually to ensure perfect flavor. We started with a tuna tostada, much smaller than earlier ones, with finely chopped tuna, herbs, peppers, and avocado slices — a really fresh, bright bite punched up with salsa. Next came a clam opened to order, quickly cleaned and mixed with lime, onions, avocado, and housemade cocktail sauce with a horseradish kick. One of the top dishes of the day. Finally, a campechano cocktail made by the master himself — clams, shrimp, and octopus perfectly seasoned in a large glass with cocktail sauce and lime. Each bite delivered the best of the ocean all at once. A can’t-miss Ensenada experience.

Hussong’s
📍 Ensenada
🍽️ Bar

Why: Hussong’s is the oldest cantina in Mexico still operating today, opening in 1892. It is also known as the birthplace of the margarita.

With who: Marcela

What I ate: After getting my face melted by how good our tostadas were we took a short walk to Hussong’s to take a beat after hitting our next food stop. After a pat down by security we entered a mostly empty old bar that reminded me of a Mexican version of McSorley’s, with older gruff bartenders and sawdust on the ground around the tables. We both ordered margaritas on the rocks and the bartender quickly built two in highball glasses. The first sip was a bit jarring as none of the flavors seemed to be incorporated into the drink with the absence of a shake, but it came together a bit more with a few stirs of the straw and we settled into a little buzz before hitting the next stop.

The kitchen gets all the attention, but what about FOH? That’s where worlds collide. Our anonymous columnist (who is currently in search of a job at a new restaurant) suffers the tribulations of table service for your entertainment, and perhaps enlightenment, too. Today, she takes on the trope of the coveted Valentine’s Day reservation.

Picture This, Girls:

February 14th. 4:45 p.m. You’re running late. You shoot off an apologetic text to your date as you swaddle yourself in layers. It is both an effort to ward off the frigid winter and an attempt to disguise your cocktail attire before it becomes socially acceptable to begin drinking. You recognize you are not remotely hungry yet, but still rush out the door for your 5 p.m. reservation.​

Scrambling through the door, you spot him by the host stand, anxiously checking his watch. Instead of a sweet, festive peck on the cheek, his attention is swiftly diverted to the host stand. No hello, simply “We are all here.”

The hostess leads you to a long line of two-tops, sandwiched shoulder to shoulder and performatively gazing at one another with complimentary glasses of cheap champagne. You apologize for being late. He tells you unconvincingly that it’s ok, he just really didn’t want to lose the table.​

As the winter temperatures dropped and swiping season set in, you were impressed by his initiative to see you a handful of times in quick succession. And when he dmed you asking you to be his Valentine, you were touched and a little surprised. But as you glance at the Pre-Fix menu ahead of you, it all becomes clear.​

He definitely made this reservation before he met you.

Men: what you think this signals vs what it really signals

Since the turn of the 20th century, jaded single friends have disavowed Valentine’s Day as a Hallmark holiday, a day for the candy and greeting card companies to capitalize on our existential fear of being alone. But it seems to me, February 14th has a new puppet master. The show is now run by one powerful entity: Big Reservation.

Said reservation wranglers begin fueling our anxieties early. “National Reservation Reminder Day” falls on January 13th – not literally, I just made that up, but the logic tracks, because that’s when the whispering starts. Chiding email marketing messages and the dreaded notify lists that threaten you with impending loneliness, warning you that not being able to secure a table is like the modern equivalent of never securing a mate.

You see, men used to go to war; now they sit at their laptops, sweaty-palmed, waiting for the reservation platforms to open the books. These men aren’t storming beaches anymore; they are booking a two-top at 6:15 p.m. 4-6 weeks in advance. It’s tragic, but TikTok has found your favorite spot, and a Finance Bro is shilling out $25K a year on his Dorsia membership to make sure he can eat there at 7 p.m. on a Friday.

It’s all very American Psycho. Reservations are now a status symbol, everyone of course knows that, and technology has turned it into a blood sport. As a man, especially one trying to signal something in this city, where you sit down for dinner on February 14th is just about as important as the watch you wear on your wrist. So no, your Raya match isn’t making a grand romantic gesture; he’s working on a power play.​

It takes a true Patrick Bateman to secure a Valentine’s Day reservation at a top spot. At this point, 7 p.m. at [insert hotspot here] isn’t sexy, it’s borderline psychotic. A 5 p.m. Pre-Fix with a two-hour time limit on tables isn’t going to set your night up for success. Truthfully, gentlemen, it makes you look like a chudd.

Preemptive and prescriptive plans can lead to disaster, resentment, and ridiculous cancellation fees. Real romance doesn’t fit neatly into a Tetris-style POS. It requires spontaneity (remember that?), not the stifling rigidity of a reservation.

I mean, truthfully, what’s more romantic than huddling close together in the vestibule and hoping for a cancellation? There’s nothing sexier than a finagle. Or just go to the bar and get trashed, forget about dinner altogether, nobody wants to fuck on a full stomach anyway.

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The best nachos I have ever had are at The Red Lion in Vail, Colorado. I have had them many times, most recently last month, when I devoured a plate while seated at the bar. Nachos, like anything in my life, are best enjoyed when paired with skiing. Or following skiing, to be more precise. Nachos at a ballgame? At the movie theater? Please, I won’t even deign to acknowledge that such subpar experiences (aka gas station-coded nachos) could possibly compete with the perfect culinary collab that is nachos x skiing.

In fact, I’ll go one step further: nachos are America’s greatest contribution to the sport of skiing. There, I’ve said it so you don’t have to. Like all things great in America, we of course got nachos from somewhere else. As legend has it, nachos were invented in Mexico as border food made to appeal to the palates of U.S. military families (in truth, they were invented by the dish’s namesake, restaurateur Ignacio “Nacho” Anaya, who served them to American military wives who’d that night come over the Texas border in search of a snack). How nachos migrated to the ski slopes is anyone’s guess, but I can tell you that—as counter intuitive as this might sound—there is no superior food in skiing. Bratwurst? Fondue? Spaghetti bolognese? Nein. Non. Non se ne parla! Such “traditional” alpine foods pale in comparison.

But! But! But! But… America contributed plenty to the sport of skiing. I hear your protestations, dear patriotic powder hound, and I anticipate your counterpoints, many of them valid. Sure, we invented freestyle skiing—or hot dogging, as it was referred to back then—and snowboarding, too. Plastic ski boots and aluminum skis? You betcha, both innovations hail from the grand ol’ US of A, baby. Did the 10th Mountain Division play a part in liberating Europe during WWII? Yup. And let’s not forget our contributions to the world of ski cinema, from directors like Dick Barrymore and Warren Miller to flicks like “Aspen Extreme” and the early George Lopez-vehicle “Ski Patrol.” “Lindsey Vonn!” you shout. “Bode Miller! Mikaela Shiffrin! Ted Liggety! The Mahre Brothers!'“ Also: hot tubs. Still, nachos, in all their culinary simplicity and cheese-laden perfection, trump each and every one of those examples. One could even argue that nachos are the hot tub of appetizers. Had nachos attempted an Olympic comeback in Cortina this week, they would’ve won the gold medal.

“Nooooo,” you scream, as petulant as a one-handed Luke Skywalker dangling over the reactor shaft of Cloud City. “That’s impossible!”

(Why am I weaving Star Wars analogies into this thoughtful, deeply-researched essay about après-ski nachos? Who knows. Just go with it).

To which I—towering over you in that aforementioned reactor shaft in the bowels of Cloud City on the gas planet of Bespin—reply, with all the dispassionate wisdom of a Sith Lord: “Search your feelings, you know it to be true.”

Yes, if you’ve ever snapped into a triangular tortilla chip whose structural integrity is being tested by the layered slop of chili, melted cheese, guac, salsa, and sour cream somewhere on the side of a mountain, or even better at the base of one (meaning you’re already drunk), then it is right now—at this very moment—dawning on you that I am right. Let that realization wash over you, my child. Feel it tickle your nerve-endings. Welcome to the ‘Cho Club™️.

When I am skiing in Europe, which I often do and highly recommend (don’t call me some bougie elitist — it’s cheaper than skiing in America, flight included, and lightyears more charming), I invariably think: this couldn’t get any better. This thought usually occurs to me at après-ski, when most happy thoughts hit me, just as the sun is setting and my buzz is building and everything feels right with the world. And then I remember that I can’t order a heaping plate of nachos to share with my fellow après-ski devotees, and I am crestfallen.

This is not entirely true. One can technically find nachos at some ski bars in Europe, and all of them are equally terrible. If you ever find yourself in St. Anton, Austria, and are struck by a hankering for nachos, preferably of the supreme variety (is there any other kind?), do yourself a favor and don’t bother. The lederhosen-bedecked waiter will serve you a plate of Doritos, with a side of melted cheese not even the most shameless 7-Eleven franchise would deign to sell their customers. Said Doritos won’t even be Nacho Cheese flavored, but rather Cool Ranch. Except they don’t call them Cool Ranch in Austria or anywhere else in Europe. They call them: Cool American, which I’ll admit is a fucking fantastic name. But nachos, they are not.

Sadly, last month when I dined at The Red Lion in Vail, I hadn’t been skiing that day, and so the nachos didn’t feel earned. This diminished them, but only by a bit. Like all bars that pride themselves on their nachos, The Red Lion takes the extra effort of layering the cheese over the Jenga-like layers of tortilla chips, so that once you’ve dusted the top tier of chips, you aren’t left with some booby prize of an appetizer consisting of dry tortilla chips and not much else (what do they have back there, nacho sous-chefs? They must). Like any self-respecting plate of ‘chos, the ones found at The Red Lion come with quac, salsa, and sour cream all appropriately centered at the top of the pile, like a crown rather than pushed to the side in separate bowls like condiments. Because calling such essential ingredients condiments would be blasphemy. As with everything comprising a plate of nachos—the cheese and the chips and the chili (should you go for that)—the trinity of guac, salsa, and sour cream are fundamental, creating a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

Some other great things about nachos: they are perhaps the only food in which the vegetarian option is as good (or, I would argue, better) than the meat options. They are messy, but not as messy as wings, nor are they conceited like wings, always boasting to be the best around no matter where you get them. They require effort and reward that effort with delightful surprises the deeper you dig. “By jove, a chip three layers deep yet absolutely lousy with blended cheese!” Yes, king. Related: nachos inspire competition considering that all partaking in the dish vie for the best bites, yet—silly thing that they are—they keep things convivial, not cut-throated. Nachos are the proverbial campfire around which we spin stories of a day on the slopes. And then, of course, there are margaritas, undoubtedly the best post-ski beverage, and perhaps the subject of a future essay. Is there a cocktail that pairs better with a dish than margaritas do with nachos? Like the plate of nachos, margs should come big, preferably in a pitcher. Shy of that, or if you’re committed to consuming them single-serving style, a proper pint glass will do, which is exactly how The Red Lion serves their ‘ritas.

I could go on and on. But if you’ve made it this far and still don’t believe me, well, may God have mercy on your soul. Word of warning, however: don’t ever disparage nachos as a simple dish, as anyone who has ever attempted to make them at home can tell you. This past Super Bowl Sunday, I threw my hat into the ring, and the resulting nachos—if you can call them that—we’re not even a cheap imitation of what I’ve enjoyed at ski areas across America.

Or maybe that was the real problem: I hadn’t skied before I ate them.