Houston not a top-10 food city? Here's why that's ridiculous.
Known for its staggering array of cultural styles, the Texas city was left off the publication's rankings in its Global Tastemakers survey. The author argues that food and drink rankings are often overlooked, with Houston often overlooked as a world-class city. Food & Wine, a publication that I respect, recently released its 2024 Global Tastemakers report, which attempts to identify the best experiences in food and drinking worldwide. However, author argues these lists are often not thorough and do not adequately represent Houston. He argues that journalists often fly into these cities for long weekends, dine at top-five spots, then ask bartenders and publicists for recommendations. The author also criticizes the lack of thoroughness of these lists.
게시됨 : 한 달 전 ~에 의해 Timothy Malcolm ~에 Lifestyle
Before I moved to Houston in 2018, I asked some local friends what I needed to know about the city’s food and drink scene. Their answer amounted to “It’s Chris Shepherd, Hugo Ortega and Justin Yu.” Now, I love these friends, and their intentions were good. But after about a month in Houston I realized the city was a lot more than a few James Beard award winners.
Food & Wine, a publication that I respect, unveiled its 2024 Global Tastemakers report, which attempts to detail the best experiences in food and drink worldwide. It’s list after list of the top-10 this and that, from restaurants and bars to markets and bakeries. Before anything, let's congratulate two Houston spots: March, which is one of Food & Wine's top restaurants in America, and Julep, a Food & Wine pick for top bar in America.
And then I scour the list of cities there instead of Houston, and it’s very obvious that the more than 180 food and travel journalists who put together these lists basically did the “Chris Shepherd, Hugo Ortega and Justin Yu” thing for every location. They’re not thorough. They can’t possibly be thorough.
I know how these lists work because I know these journalists. We fly into these cities for long weekends, at best, dine at the top-five spots referred to us from publicists and like-minded lists, then ask bartenders and servers and other publicists for further recommendations that we’ll stash away. What won a Beard award? A Michelin star? Was it nominated on another Food & Wine list, or by Esquire, or by the New York Times? After getting through all of these questions, you’re suddenly mulling over the same five to 10 restaurants and bars for each city, comparing them to another city’s five or 10.
And make no mistake, March is outstanding. I’ve eaten there and have lost myself in chef Felipe Riccio’s vision of Mediterranean food. I drank far too much wine. June Rodil has the best understanding of hospitality probably in America. Also, Julep is one of my favorite bars ever. It’s romantic, hip, classy, casual, easygoing and very serious all at once. The drinks kick ass. Alba Huerta is the final boss of bartending. All great stuff, no arguments here.
But come on, right? I know that Houston isn’t just March and Julep—just as it wasn’t just Chris Shepherd, Hugo Ortega and Justin Yu—and that New York City (Food & Wine’s top choice) isn’t just Superiority Burger and L’Industrie Pizzeria, and that Austin isn’t just Birdie’s and Nixta Taqueria. (Oh, by the way, Austin is fourth on this list. In what world is Austin fourth on a top cities for food and drinks list and Houston not even ranked? Also, this has happened before.)
The issue with these lists will always and forever be breadth and depth. You can’t possibly ask the assembled journalists helping Food & Wine put together its list to scour every corner of Houston. They can’t be expected to duck into Afrikiko for groundnut soup, head to East Wall for Peking duck, stop by La Cruderia for ceviche and tacos de chapulín, then crunch into some Cali Sandwich banh mi and polish off a couple tacos at Villa Arcos. That just means doing the same thing in every other city in America.
But if journalists did this, I guarantee Houston would be a top-10 city on every list. Its reach is too vast, its offerings too robust. I love Portland, Maine (the better Portland, by the way), and its Eventide Oyster Co. is one of my favorite spots in America, but you can’t tell me with a straight face that the salty city is a better food and drink locale than Houston.
This isn’t just a Food & Wine thing. The real reason I’m getting so annoyed about some one-time ranking of food cities is that Houston often is painfully overlooked and underestimated as a world-class food city. Michelin Guide ain’t coming here—and that’s a good thing. We don’t get a ton of James Beard award winners. We’re not the ones, in the eyes of those who make these awards and lists, changing the conversation about food.
Except that we are and have been. Great food and drink experiences aren’t just about sitting in some million-dollar dining room and staring down at three colorful dots on a plate. It’s not just the smokehouse whose lines are eternally out the door, or the cute “new American” or “chef forward” spot that has the cutest deviled eggs and Manhattans. I mean, they are important, but there’s so much more to it, and that’s how Houston changes things.
One of the best meals I’ve ever had in Houston was on a Saturday morning while seated at the fire-engine-red picnic table outside Lankford Grocery & Market. I ate biscuits and sausage gravy, drank coffee, and enjoyed the sunshine. The next day I waited in line for oxtails in gravy at Cool Runnings. Two very specific understandings of luxurious comfort food that aren’t necessarily the first things you think of when considering a city’s excellence in food and drink. But, I think, what separates Houston from everywhere else is that it’s not unusual for any of us to have these consecutive experiences. This weekend I’ll probably order take-out white goat karahi from Aga’s one night, then visit 88 Boiling for three pounds of garlic-butter-drenched crawfish the next. And that’s just what we do here. That’s normal.
So I guess if you want the best East Coast oyster experience ever, you’ve got Eventide in Portland. I can vouch for the deliciousness of the Cuban at Sanguich de Miami, and yes, by all means, Italian beef it up in Chicago. But Houston isn’t just one food—it’s pho, fajitas, pork ribs, mapo tofu, suya and a whole lot more. And Houston isn’t just five or 10 restaurants—it’s the half-lit dining room with one television and red-checkered tablecloth just as it’s the latest stunner drawn up by Gin Design Group.
주제: Food & Drink