The deep entwining of Chef's personal journey and identity is palpable in nearly every bite of food. It's thoughtful, inventive, at once subtle and surprising, and without a single miss.

Barolo and Barbaresco are the heart of nebbiolo production and some of the most famous geographies for wine on the planet.

A recent trip to northern Italy was bookended by two nights in Milan, and I got to sample two wonderful restaurants––one hidden gem and one icon.

California wine country is facing a moment of serious reckoning, but there is still an abundance of resilience, cautious optimism, and joy in the industry.

Kiln lived up to and often exceeded nearly every expectation. Chef Wesley is crushing it with intensity, purposeful technique, creativity, and impeccable ingredient sourcing.

Even fine dining in San Diego feels like you just kicked off your sandals after a day at the beach. There’s an ineffable approachability, ease, and joy that pervades the atmosphere at Ichifuji.

Owamni demonstrates the glory of the foodways of indigenous Americans, and point the way toward a gentler, slower system of food rooted in concepts held dear by the indigenous peoples of the Americas for generations––respect for the land, sustainability, and nourishment.

Chef Ramírez and team are clearly on a mission to reclaim the third star he held at Chef's Table. Some of the smaller dishes belong firmly in the three-star column. The mains, meanwhile, while not boundary-pushing and generally classic in composition, make a strong case for a third star in the future.

I can't think of a reason Smyth isn't deserving of their third Michelin star. Indeed, many dishes were some of the most successful in recent memory. There is some exceptional work that was truly singular, an ode to American bounty.

One of these days I'll stop apologizing to both of my loyal readers for completely ignoring them for months on end. Life is wild, and...