– It is hard to believe that the year has tipped once again, and I find myself hurling through time and space towards those dozen, wonder-filled days at the end. As I tap out these words, I count fewer than 15 days left at home between now and then, scraped together from a splinter of gaps between trips to Denmark, Greenland, both coasts, and points in between.
A few months ago, I posted a picture of a plate of food to my Instagram story.
– According to the year-end travel summaries and stats issued annually by my airline of choice, San Francisco has been my most-frequent destination for the past four years. And yet, I rarely mention the city on this blog. I’ve written about eating in cities like New York , Copenhagen , Paris , Kansas City (where I get my mail), Tokyo, San Sebastian, among many other far-flung destinations around the globe, like the Laplands of Sweden , the Auvergne of France , and the ever-exotic and alluring Bentonville, Arkansas .
It’s not enough to land the fly in the right spot.
– 2017 was a strange year of eating for me. That’s because my most exciting destinations had little to do with food . That’s not to say that I didn’t have any good food
It’s no secret that I have been an unamused critic of restaurant lists and ratings. Much of food media has succumbed to the pressures of collecting clicks, sponsorships, and advertisement
– Plums, ashen from the hearth, bleeding into gauzy muslin. Figs, syrupy and charred, nestled in a flakey frame
– I took the lessons I learned in 2016 and applied them to 2017. Staying close to familiar quarters, I continued to bet on sure winners.
– It has been over a dozen years since I started recording and reporting here.
Chefs: I challenge you to remove one (and for some of you, three) items from each dish.