Contrary to popular belief, I did not grow up a “foodie.” Up until high school, I wasn’t particularly interested in food, beyond it being a necessary part of… life, ya know. But then I met my boyfriend Viraj, who properly introduced me to the world of food and led me to where I am now. (Wallet empty; stomach full.)
Years after I had been indoctrinated into foodie-ism, I was out at a relatively expensive meal with my mother (it might have been at Nobu in San Diego) when we started discussing my interest in expensive food. (Her words, not mine!) She asked me what value I saw in spending so much on dining. I hadn’t really articulated it before at the time, but what I said on the spot has stuck with me since, so I’ll repeat it here.
While I may not have always been a “food” person, I was absolutely an “art” person growing up. Partially due to my parents and partially due to my own interests, my childhood was filled with visits to art museums and sitting in the audience of plays, operas and symphonies. Consumption of mainstream art is expensive, and yet even after I’ve moved away from home, I still shell out for experiences like these because I think it’s worth it to experience artistry in person.
Food is art. It might not be immediately obvious, especially at more ordinary restaurants, but watch any Eater interview or the YouTube show Worth It, especially the segments featuring cheaper eats, and you’ll realize that so much pure art lies within every caliber of cooking. Perhaps you knew this already, dear reader, but I did not.
And, food is food. I don’t think food that is served in a fine dining establishment is any better than one that’s served on paper plates on a sidewalk. Different, obviously. But not better. Yet, returning to my mother’s question, I believe that it’s worth it to spend hundreds of dollars on dining.
All food is art; it’s simple. In December, I spent $200 to see Lea Michele in “Funny Girl.” (Yes, it was everything my formerly-Glee-obsessed self wanted and more.) Nobody batted an eye; people seemed to agree that while expensive, it was a completely reasonable amount of money to spend to see top Broadway talent live. Yet, what if I told you I spent that much on a meal? I think that may be a little more controversial.
The issue with food, as opposed to a musical, is that it’s often hard to understand just how much work goes into preparing a meal, since most of it happens behind closed doors. When the food arrives in front of me, it’s hard for me to imagine the talent and labor the dish required. Enter open kitchens. (I’ve totally buried the lede, but that’s what we’re talking about today!)
I love open kitchens. It’s definitely because I’m an extremely nosy person, but I also love watching the meticulous machinery of a restaurant kitchen work. Some open kitchens are quiet, the chefs clearly trained to do their jobs in silence to create a more polished atmosphere in front of guests. Some operate as usual as if there was no audience, chatting away with each other as dishes are churned out like clockwork. Some of the chefs will speak to you, offer suggestions for what to order and explain what they’re doing at the moment. Some act as if there’s an invisible barrier between themselves and you, making you feel like a bit like a fly on the wall.
In all of these arrangements, however, is a glimpse into what exactly we are consuming when we eat out. Food is both visual and performance art: the plating much like admiring a painting on the wall of a museum and the all the labor that goes into the dish much like witnessing a carefully choreographed dance when it happens out in the open. Why go see a show after the meal, when the show is right in front of you?
For all you New Yorkers, a couple of my favorite open kitchen restaurants in the city. Pro tip: always pick counter seating.
Misi
If you’re at all tuned into the New York food scene, you know about this place. I haven’t been to Lilia, Misi’s sister restaurant, but I can say Misi has some of the best pasta I’ve had. Order the sheep's milk ricotta filled occhi topped with bottarga and lemon and marvel at the chefs working away in the kitchen. When Viraj and I ate there, we sensed that there was some drama (!!) between the chefs. Please go and report back. Let me know if you agree.
A Pasta Bar
Keeping with the pasta theme, this small pasta joint in SoHo prepares their food in a kitchen at the center of the restaurant, with seats wrapped around it. My roommate Ellie and I went on one of the first warm Sundays of the year, and the vibes could not have been better. Food and service were excellent and perfect for a casual meal. The raviolo was an obvious hit, but I was pleasantly surprised by their chef’s salad, which was an avocado cream with ribbons of Persian cucumbers.
Rosella
I feel like putting a sushi restaurant on this list is kind of cheating since most sushi chefs work out in the open, but Rosella also has a much more comprehensive open kitchen (and menu), so this is ok. There’s a variety of seating at this restaurant, but the best seats are at the counter in the very back, where they used to serve an omakase. They’ve since stopped (and are opening a separate omakase restaurant soon), but will still do an “omakase” if you ask! (Ask.) The entire staff is super chatty and dining at Rosella feels like a dinner party with old friends. 10/10 vibes; 10/10 food.
Laser Wolf
Viraj and I ate at Laser Wolf in the middle of summer and sat right in front of their grill. (We were separated by a counter, but still.) While it was sweaty, we got a perfect view of how the chefs grill their meats on top of an open flame—very impressive. Viraj befriended the chef (he always does) and while we only ordered two entrees, we ended up getting to try all of them. My theory is that we were there at the start of the dinner service and they needed to do a couple test runs. Either way, incredible bang for our buck. Even if you’re not getting free food, Laser Wolf is well worth a visit, even for vegetarians. The view itself is truly unbeatable.
Kochi
I went to Kochi a long time ago so memories are hazy, but I remember the kitchen being one of those very refined ones, where chefs move quietly with stunning efficiency. The meal was excellent, I’ve been dying to return. (Food on sticks! What’s not to love!) And, once again, do go with the counter seating.
… Another week has gone by and I still haven’t run out of content! Crazy. See you next time!