Lisa Ling on why Asian food in Los Angeles matters.
A black cod goes from the Pacific to Shibumi.
Keeping cool when the kitchen gets hot.
One restaurant’s many pandemic pivots.
Two different takes on Indian food.
Every day’s a hustle at Woon.
From Asian farms to Los Angeles restaurants.
Why in L.A. they’re not boring.
Three restaurants breaking boundaries.
Mastering values at Yang’s Kitchen.
Two chefs go behind the blade.
Omakase and ramen join the neighborhood.
The coronation of soju and makgeolli.
Three women open the bar they want to walk into.
Indonesian community through cuisine.
On working with Mom and Dad at Anajak Thai.
Los Angeles before sushi.
Inside the staff ritual of eating together.
Three Vietnamese restaurants expand the city’s palate.
One chef has some thoughts.
Waking up Los Angeles to Burmese cuisine.
The couple behind Shiku goes with the flow.
An ode to those who keep them going.
Michelle Bernstein embraces the competition.
One restaurant’s epic journey from debt to success.
The couple behind Boia De and Walrus Rodeo play by their own rules.
Vermouth gets a bar of its own.
On the business of BBQ in Miami.
Recipes for navigating an uncertain economy.
The secret to never getting old in a town obsessed with what’s new.
How two pioneers of omakase introduced Miami to a new way of dining out.
Chasing a childhood memory one arepa at a time.
Why Miami’s mainstays of Middle Eastern food aren’t phased by the influx of glossy newcomers.
David Foulquier on his shapeshifting ambitions.
The Black chefs behind a vegan movement in Miami.
Two Cuban sandwich masters talk shop.
A new generation’s take on the classic Jewish deli.
Miami’s mavericks of sustainable growing and dining.
An intimate glimpse inside restaurants after the last customer leaves.
Creating a culture where employees stick around.
A new kind of bottle service takes root in Miami.
The art of staying put in a changing city.
The city’s ventanitas created a culture all their own.
Philadelphia Magazine’s food critic on the irrepressible attitude that is the key ingredient of the city’s restaurants.
How one restaurant gave birth to many.
The cheesesteak may be the global mascot of Philly. But a contingent of pioneering chefs and restaurateurs have made the city a hub of vegetarian innovation.
The city’s Eritrean-Ethiopian restaurants serve up more—way more—than delicious food.
How Juan Carlos Aparicio baked his way to running a restaurant (that isn’t a bakery).
How Alex Tewfik went from being a food editor in Philly to owning one of the best restaurants in town.
Two restaurants that share a belief in how cooking can be force for change.
How Chutatip Suntaranon channeled her upbringing in Thailand—and life spent flying around the world—into one of Philly’s most singular restaurants.
Stopping by the warehouses in Kensington where artisan upstarts are breathing new life into the city’s food scene.
The Ongoing Evolution of Philly’s Classic Sandwiches.
Chloé Grigri, Amanda Shulman, and Ellen Yin on upending the rules of the game.
Mike Solomonov takes stock of his journey.
When a customer becomes a friend.
Ange Branca was forced to close her beloved restaurant in 2020. That was just the beginning.
How do you build a restaurant in a space that was never meant for a restaurant? In Philly, a city of Revolutionary Warera buildings and colonial row houses and ancient warehouses, it can be a bit like playing Tetris with Benjamin Franklin.
Three Philly couples get frank and intimate in sharing their recipes for romance.
Inside the world of homespun pop-ups and unexpected collaborations that have made Philly’s dining scene like nowhere else.
The classics are easy enough to master by anyone with fine liquor and a recipe.
The city has long been a vibrant hub of Vietnamese food. Today, a new generation is striking a balance all their own—between creativity and tradition, innovation and memory.
An ode to the unsung heroes of restaurant kitchens from a comedy writer who couldn’t take the heat.
A cell phone has been invented that allows you to send one text message to your younger self. What do you write?
Restaurants remain very much alive after closing for the night.
The staff exhales as the last bill is paid. A radio is turned on, a shot of tequila knocked back, a glass of wine sipped. No, work is not over. For some, it has just begun. This is the moment a restaurant goes from serving diners to shutting down, when a typically public operation gives way to something private: a nightly ritual that is as familiar to industry workers as it is foreign to their customers. Though what happens in these hours may not be celebrated by critics or beloved by regulars, it is no less integral.
In photographing five very different restaurants around Miami—from a mainstay of Cuban homestyle cooking to a paragon of New American cuisine to a raucous Asian food hall—I learned how every restaurant has its own set of procedures for powering down, its own dance steps to the tallying of receipts, stacking of chairs, cleaning of grease traps, and so much inventory. Yet among these differences there was something shared, a sense of camaraderie, a collective sigh during which the staff stole moments to gossip, shrug off a tough customer, and recap the glories and gouges of the night.
More often than not this dance was set to the soundtrack of salsa, the rags and mops and dish racks swaying and clanking to the beat—a reminder of the vital role Latinxs have played in America’s restaurants in general and Miami’s in particular, where they make up over 70 percent of the population. While shooting I do my best to be a fly on the wall, but even in the rush to close I was seen, brought in, offered a pastelito or a licuado to sip on while I made photographs. “Segura?” I heard when I hesitated—“You sure?”—and soon enough I accepted, momentarily slipping into their nightly rhythm as the restaurant was primed for another day.
Among the closing chores at Niu Kitchen, a Spanish tapas restaurant in Downtown, the close-knit staff finds time to joke and gossip while cleaning wine glasses and stacking chairs.
While closing down Krus Kitchen, an inventive seasonal restaurant in Coconut Grove, the staff alternate between intense focus and amiable banter. The crew of Los Felix, their sister restaurant located a floor below, trickle in for a nightcap and a hug.
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