From the archives: An Exploration of Ethnic Identity and the Persistence of “Prairie” Cuisine
Ever promised the world and delivers first-time guests a pretty fine experience. And you think most visitors will leave the restaurant feeling satisfied by the novel food, polished service, and refined atmosphere. They’ll feel satisfied because the heightened expectations were just about met, but you’ve never felt those expectations were truly surpassed.
Hype is anathema to a cynic such as you. Yet some places fulfill–dare you say, surpass–expectations from the very start. Some places not only please, but they promise. They stand as a bastion of dynamic cookery and gracious service that is sure to elevate the expression of those arts across the entire city. They beg you not merely to check them once off of your bucket list, but affirm the splendor of those rare restaurants that embody a living organism.
While OAD’s survey-based rankings offer a valuable counterpoint to fine dining’s entrenched powers, the organization’s legitimization of social media self-aggrandizement represents the very peak of competitive conspicuous consumption. Chefs who cater to this globetrotting cabal do so to the detriment of their own communities, impeding the development of an inclusive, distinctive regional taste.
Diversity, the death of insight, and the necessity of playing nice.
With more and more restaurants embracing the world’s most popular culinary genre, it pays to know just which vision of “Italy” one will be exploring in a given dining room.
Featuring: Alla Vita and a Bellemore Post-Mortem
The “Mickey Mouse factor” refers to the phenomenon in which children who are picky eaters at home are willing to try all sorts of new foods within Disney’s theme parks. If you extricate the concept from its theme park setting and apply it towards dining writ large, the mechanism actually proves quite enlightening.
While it is too early in the restaurant’s lifespan to write a full review, you thought–just for fun–you would put Rose Mary’s seven different pasta dishes through the ringer. Given that Joe Flamm is something of a wizard with the form–anyone who has tried Spiaggia’s truffle gnocchi can attest to that–and that his pastas form the most distinct core of the menu at present, you think this ranking can prove instructive in the interim.
Milk Bar, in its current, dysfunctional state, is nothing but a scourge to the American food system. It snares consumers with style over substance, fails to educate them in any manner of pastry appreciation, and, ultimately, leaves them high and dry with neither cake nor money. You hope you have given some voice and sense of permanence to the many complaints of consumers whom have been wronged by Tosi’s lust for profits.