John deBary started a career focused on cocktails — then launched an industry fund that’s raised $7.5 million to date

John deBary started bartending at the legendary New York City speakeasy Please Don’t Tell before PDT was, well, PDT. In early 2008, the award-winning cocktail bar was just a cool restaurant-industry haunt that deBary’s friend helped open. Though deBary had no experience making drinks, he asked if he could have a job there — and they said yes. Luckily for all parties involved, deBary was a natural who went on to mix cocktails there for a defining five and a half years that were pivotal to the revival of craft cocktails. This newfound talent for beverages led deBary to a nine-year role as bar director for the Momofuku restaurant group. And for about four years, he was splitting his time between the two gigs.

Now, deBary has taken his expertise beyond the bar with Proteau, a nonalcoholic botanical aperitif designed to be drunk straight out of the bottle. He also co-founded a nonprofit, Restaurant Workers’ Community Foundation, that became a major crisis relief organization during the pandemic. On top of it all, deBary authored the cocktail book Drink What You Want: The Subjective Guide to Making Objectively Delicious Cocktails and continues to write about drinks for publications like Food52 and Punch. In the following interview, deBary explains how he fortuitously ended up working at the best bar in the country and details his unexpected current situation.

Eater: What did you originally want to do when you started your career?

John deBary: I wanted some academic job. I thought I would maybe be a lawyer or maybe move to Japan. It really was not fleshed out.

Did you go to culinary school or college? If so, would you recommend it?

I went to Columbia University for undergrad and I studied Japanese history, but I actually did take the bartending course for a semester. I forgot about it until I saw an article in Punch about all the Ivy League bartending schools. Needless to say, it didn’t really prepare me that much for being a professional bartender, but it was a good intro. One of the things about having a liberal arts education is that it teaches you to be generally conversant in a lot of different subjects. Columbia has a core curriculum it requires you to take, which includes philosophy, world history, and classic literature. All the teachers say, “You won’t need this for your job, but you’ll be really good at cocktail parties.” And then sure enough, my life became a cocktail party. In a very oblique way, it prepared me nicely for bartending.

What was your first job?

Funnily enough, my first job was in the restaurant industry, but I didn’t come back to it for about 10 years. I was a server at a French cafe in the town where I grew up in Connecticut. I lasted three or four weeks. I was 14 and I didn’t know anything about anything and I wasn’t really that into it. It didn’t light me up at all.

When I graduated college, I had a job investigating allegations of police misconduct for the city of New York from 2005 to 2007. It was extremely interesting and it was during the era of Mayor Bloomberg’s stop-and-frisk policy, so there were a lot of complaints and questions about the Fourth Amendment, about ethical search and seizure, and about improper stopping of people in the street. That was in line with me wanting to go to law school.

How did you get into the hospitality industry (again)?

I did some traveling and when I came back, I had no job. I was desperately searching for a place to work and my friend Don Lee was on the opening team at PDT. He invited me to have drinks there a few times and I thought it was really cool. I asked if I could work at this awesome bar and they said, “Okay.” I started training and it felt very natural and I took it from there. I went right to bartending. This was before the place blew up and got really famous. It was still kind of a local industry haunt. I was able to just slide right in, which is something you can’t do anymore. It had only been open for nine months, so it was a very well-timed entry.

What was the biggest challenge you faced when you were starting out in the industry?

I didn’t know anything about whiskey or cocktails. I was completely clueless. I was kind of able to charm my way through my first couple of weeks of working, but I was also trying to seriously catch up by reading books about mixology and Punch and Imbibe. My biggest deficit was that I had absolutely no experience bartending and I got very fortunately plopped into one of the coolest bars in the world that was part of the craft cocktail renaissance.

When was the first time you felt successful?

I got my picture, name, and quote in the New York Times about three months after I started working at PDT. I just happened to be there on the right night. They were doing a story about a group of local cocktail nerds hopping around to different bars and I happened to be their bartender. That was really validating because the bartending job was initially just something to keep me busy while I was studying for the LSAT. After that and after getting positive feedback from customers, everything else kind of fell away. It fit me really well and I really enjoyed it.

Do you have, or did you ever have, a mentor in your field?

I learned how to make cocktails from a lot of different, amazing, awesome people like Jim Meehan and Don Lee. I worked at Momofuku for nine years, so Dave Chang and I have been very close. He’s been a huge influence on me. I never worked for Sasha Petraske or Julie Reiner, but I’ve always looked to them as icons.

Proteau

What was the turning point that led to building your own company and drink, Proteau?

I didn’t really want to bartend forever. Six years was enough for me. I wanted to bring what I had learned to more people — more than the people who were sitting in front of me at the bar every night. I’ve always had the idea in my mind to create a drink and I’ve always been interested in nonalcoholic cocktails. It’s such a fascinating category for me because it’s so hard to get right. It was an evolution of making 100 drinks per night to making one drink that gets sold across many states, in many bars and restaurants.

It’s really hard to describe what it is, since it’s not really like anything that’s come before it. Proteau is a bottled cocktail. It’s a blend of different botanicals that includes fancy vinegar and a fruit component. Proteau is the best of both worlds because it can be opened and poured and that’s it, but you also have the ability to use it as an ingredient and play with it however you want.

Other nonalcoholic products on the market are thought of as replacements for specific things like spirits. Proteau is meant to be its own thing. It doesn’t have any reference to something it’s replacing, which is cool, but also hard. It’s difficult to articulate exactly where it stands because you can’t compare it to anything that already exists. It’s exciting and terrifying at the same time.

I’ve always had an eye toward beverages as a culinary companion. Proteau is definitely meant to accompany food. When you go to a restaurant, they’ll have Diet Coke, sparkling water, and maybe an iced tea — a very uninspiring and sad offering. Meanwhile, they’ll have a lot of options for people who drink alcohol, so creating something to fit that occasion was really important to me. But it’s also meant to be drunk anywhere at any time. If you give people the idea that you can drink something really cool and unique and delicious that just happens to not have alcohol.

How was launching during the pandemic?

The full vision of the brand didn’t launch until July 2020, right in the middle of the pandemic. It was definitely meant to be a product that showed up in bars and restaurants so the strategy had to be revised a little bit. Fortunately, I had always wanted to build in direct-to-consumer capabilities. If you’re a nonalcoholic company, you can ship anywhere — there’s no weird legal stuff. We were an online-only brand until March of this year. We really didn’t get any wholesale or retail traction until then. Now, we’re starting to see wholesale distribution and exporting to Canada. Basically, the original plan got pushed back by a year.

You released your book during the pandemic, too?

My book came out in June 2020, so I had a lot of events lined up that didn’t actually happen. It was the layer of the pandemic where I couldn’t do traditional marketing, but I think the book was very well-timed because it was really about teaching people that if you don’t know anything about drinks and if you’re a total newbie, it’s not that hard and you can do it at home. There’s a lot of simple stuff you can do to make sure your drinks are great and it doesn’t need to be this massive challenge. So I think it was very well-suited to the at-home DIY vibe that everyone was working with and continues to work with.

And your nonprofit also grew a lot during the pandemic?

I co-founded a nonprofit that was designed to address quality of life issues in the restaurant industry called Restaurant Workers’ Community Foundation. I started it with a group of restaurant industry people, as well as some nonprofit people. My husband has worked in philanthropy for two decades, so it was a nice pairing of our two worlds. It was intended to tackle broad-spectrum issues like wage fairness, gender equity, sexual violence prevention, and mental health assistance. Every social justice issue is maximized in the restaurant industry, so we wanted to raise money to give grants to nonprofits that are doing work in the areas that we care about, as well as direct advocacy and impact investing.

The organization was just a small part of my life before the pandemic. On March 15, 2020, we started a COVID fund and it really just took off. We have raised over $7.5 million so far for the fund to do direct assistance for restaurant workers, grants to nonprofits, and the zero-interest loan program. We’ve also raised almost $2 million outside of the fund, so we’ve hired an executive director and we have a full-time staff person now, which is amazing because we were all volunteers until very recently.

It has gone from a side project that didn’t have a ton of visibility to being everywhere. We got shoutouts on Jimmy Fallon, and we were getting donations from all over the place, from small donors to big companies and celebrities — it was crazy. That completely reshaped what I spend my time on, for the better. I wish the organization didn’t need to exist, but it does, so how I define success is fundraising.

Now, I think that the next phase for us is to parlay the attention and the platform to focus on the underlying issues that have been affecting restaurant workers for centuries, which was our original mission. These are problems that are not going away unless we actually work to undo the structures that are causing them to happen. We’re transitioning away from crisis relief toward structural change.

So what does a day at work look like for you now?

My day-to-day currently is four or five different semi-full-time jobs. For the nonprofit, I’m planning events, maintaining existing legacy relationships and conversations, and even doing tedious admin work. With Proteau, I’ve already created the recipes and the concept, so the fun stuff is completed. Not to say that what I’m doing now isn’t fun, but I did the creative work and now I’m selling the product and continuing to learn how to deliver the experience to people in the way that I want it to be — even when I’m not physically there. It’s been very fascinating to learn how the drinks industry works; there are challenges you face, especially as a nonalcoholic brand. Every day is a completely different experience.

I’m also now the resident drinks expert for Food52 and I do tons of cocktail writing for publications like Punch, Eater, Thrillist, and Bon Appétit. It’s very kaleidoscopic. I don’t know how it would’ve happened differently if there was no pandemic, but I think that the destabilizing effect of the pandemic made space for me to become more of a multi-hyphenate: I’m a drinks writer, entrepreneur, nonprofit founder, et cetera, et cetera.

What’s the best piece of career advice you’ve been given?

When I was working at PDT just twice a week, I was feeling really antsy and not busy. I was feeling like I wasn’t maximizing my time. Jim Meehan told me to work out like it was my job while I had the time because taking care of yourself is one of the best ways to be successful in the long term. I liked exercising before then, but I really took it to heart. Taking care of yourself is so important and you can’t overlook that for the idea of a career. If you achieve success, but you’re not mentally or physically where you want to be, that doesn’t seem worth it to me.

Morgan Goldberg is a freelance writer based in Los Angeles, California.
Photo of John deBary by Naima Green.

Canada Dry only releases cranberry ginger ale for the holidays, which is a travesty because it really is the perfect soda

The leaves have changed, the weather is cooler, and pumpkin spice lattes are everywhere, but the one true way that I know that the holiday season is nigh is when the soda I covet the most, Canada Dry cranberry ginger ale, hits the shelves of my neighborhood grocery store.

For those who do not pay attention to the machinations of a 100-year old Canadian soda manufacturer, here’s how it works: in addition to its signature ginger ale and a new(ish) “extra bold” flavor, Canada Dry markets a couple of seasonal flavors throughout the year. In the spring and summer, there’s Canada Dry spiked with lemonade, a refreshing drink that’s perfect when it’s hotter than hell outside. And then, come fall, there’s its cranberry ginger ale, also available in diet.

That cranberries are tied to autumn makes sense. Cranberry harvesting season is September through November, and cranberries are often served at Thanksgiving and Christmas. What’s nonsensical, however, is that Canada Dry limits its distribution of cranberry ginger ale to only the holiday months because it’s truly the world’s most perfect soda. The tartness from the cranberry pairs perfectly with ginger ale’s mild spice. It’s perfectly crisp, and doesn’t leave that cloying film of sugar in your mouth like the average soda. There’s no caffeine, which means that I can sip a glass in the wee hours without worrying about not being able to sleep. I am, after all, over the age of 30, and therefore legally barred from consuming caffeine after 2 p.m. if I wish to get even one second of rest that night.

Hand-in-hand with my tolerance for caffeine, my soda preferences have changed as I’ve gotten older. As a kid, I could house a six-pack of Dr. Pepper or Mountain Dew in a matter of hours. Now, I find it so sugary that I can only have a couple of sips. But cranberry ginger ale is the exception to that rule, which is why I buy and hoard as much as possible over the holiday season. When poured over ice, it feels a little fancier and more grown-up than the average soda, partially because the flavor profile is a more sophisticated than, say, a Sprite. (To be clear, there isn’t actually any less sugar, but I’m okay with lying to myself about it.)

It’s clear that Canada Dry mostly views cranberry ginger ale as a beverage for holiday parties and get-togethers. It’s sold mostly in two-liter bottles, which is perfect when you need to serve a lot of soda at once, maybe in cocktails or in a punch, but terrible to drink over the course of a week. 12-packs of cans, the optimal delivery device for a super-fizzy soda, are scarce, and that’s a travesty.

For now, I’ll take what I can get. As someone who isn’t a particularly heavy drinker, cranberry ginger ale is the kind of beverage I’d like to sip year-round in lieu of a cheap glass of cava at somebody’s office party. And if I do want to spike it with booze, is there really any more perfect way to achieve a gorgeous Poinsettia than with a shot of cranberry ginger ale?

Ultimately, Canada Dry should really just do me all of us a favor and make cranberry ginger ale available year-round. If Starbucks can sell its peppermint mocha in the dead of summer, I should be able to sip my cranberry ginger ale, too.

Get in on Eater Wine Club, a monthly wine subscription

One of the things we love most about food is wine. Specifically, the wine you get to drink while dining out at your favorite restaurant, be it your go-to local joint or the fanciest place in town. This is wine selected by someone who knows what they’re doing — a professional who understands how to decode a label and what kind of grapes will make your food taste that much better. So what if, we wondered, we made it possible to experience that kind of hospitality right at home?

Get to know Eater Wine Club, a monthly wine subscription box. Our extensive network of local editors have teamed up with sommeliers and beverage directors from some of our favorite restaurants, bars, and shops across the country to curate a new experience each month, with ever-changing themes and bottles (two or four per box, your choice!) and plenty of perks. Sign up and you’ll get a box full of surprising and highly drinkable wines on your doorstep every month, plus an exclusive newsletter and an invite to our monthly wine party.

For November 2021, our wine curator is Seung Hee Lee, an Atlanta-based pop-up chef and the author of Everyday Korean. For her theme, Seung Hee picked wines tailored to the gatherings that the cooler months and holiday season (hello, Thanksgiving!) bring. Head here to learn more about Seung Hee’s wine picks.

And one more thing: This fall, we rolled out single bottles for sale! That means that if you loved what you got in your monthly box, you can buy extras. Check out bottles from our previous boxes here to stock up.

So join the club and invite your friends — from the one who geeks out over cool labels and funky tastes to the one who just wants you to hand them a glass of something delicious that’ll make their food pop. Sign up for Eater Wine Club here — we’ll see you at the party.

Eater’s 11 best new restaurants have one thing in common: tenacity. Amid an unprecedented crisis, chefs, bakers, and operators imagined new ways for diners to revel in the pleasure of a good meal and a shared experience — even if that meant doing so outside or via takeout containers. In light of the workarounds required of the past 18 months, Eater’s nationwide staff considered any place our readers could reliably get food as a restaurant in our quest to celebrate just how thrilling dining out is, whatever that looks like right now.

— Hillary Dixler Canavan, restaurant editor

• Editorial lead: Hillary Dixler Canavan
• Editor: Jesse Sparks
• Design director: Alyssa Nassner
• Engineer: Graham Yan MacAree
• Photo editor: Audrey Levine
• Copy editor: Rachel P. Kreiter
• Fact checking: Andrea López Cruzado, Kelsey Lannin
• Engagement: James Park, Adam Moussa
• Photography: Albi: Rey Lopez, The Anchovy Bar: Patricia Chang, Baobab Fare: Gerard Belevender, Bridgetown Roti: Wonho Frank Lee, Dhamaka: Gabriela Herman, Distant Relatives: Nicolai McCrary, Eeva: Ted Nghiem, Fonda Lupita: Forrest Mason, Kasama: Garrett Sweet, Oma’s Hideaway: Dina Avila, Over Under: Felicia Saade
• Special thanks: Nicole Adlman, Matt Buchanan, Erin DeJesus, Missy Frederick, Milly McGuinness, Brenna Houck, Amanda Kludt, Ellie Krupnick, and the entire Eater cities network of editors and reporters

Albi

Washington, D.C.

Consider what makes a special-occasion restaurant sizzle: an utterly original point of view, top-tier service, and food that ignites conversation. At Albi, chef Michael Rafidi’s team hits every mark and then some with a hearth-centered Levantine restaurant marrying his Palestinian American experience and fine dining chops. Wisps of smoke coaxed from glowing flames and dying embers anchor dishes loaded up with showers of lemon juice, drizzles of pomegranate molasses, and pillows of intense garlic toum. Meals end with cooling swirls of labneh soft serve, keeping the fire in check.

Since opening in early 2020, Albi has become indispensable because it meets diners where they are. Want to eat less meat? Rafidi has you covered with smoked veggie kibbeh naya — it might be beets, tomatoes, or carrots in the tartare-like spread — one of D.C.’s best vegetarian dishes. Want to nerd out on wine? The list includes hard-to-source bottles from Lebanon and Palestine. Can’t afford to splurge on a tasting menu? For under $100, two can feast on Beiruti-style hummus and a platter of lamb kebabs and cinnamon-skewered kefta. Albi’s private dining room also hosts Yellow, a daytime cafe showcasing pastry chef Emma Scanlon’s French-meets-Levantine treats, coffee director Ayat Elhag’s imaginative drinks, and sandwiches tucked into the same oven-fresh pita that wows diners at the dressier tables.

— Gabriel Hiatt, Eater DC editor

The Anchovy Bar

San Francisco, CA

In a long pandemic spent gussying up tinned fish and mixing drinks at home, there’s perhaps no greater reward than sliding into one of the Anchovy Bar’s coveted tables to feast on its stylish approach to the eponymous little fish. A thoroughly California take on boquerones, brined in salt, lime juice, basil, and garlic and casually adorned with torn mint and dribbles of oil, each bite is a small indulgence — only available from about April to October when anchovies can be pulled straight from the San Francisco Bay.

Fortunately for the rest of the year, the other dishes are also revelatory, with Hog Island oysters swimming in smoky date sambal-infused butter and orbs of McFarland Springs trout roe scooped into crackly sheets of seaweed. The beverage list is delightfully unpredictable, offering something orange, flights of sherry, and fizzy riffs on the classic spritz. Desserts are breezily sophisticated, like two caramelized arlettes sandwiching fragrant Meyer lemon curd. Chef-restaurateurs Stuart Brioza and Nicole Krasinski stayed close to their home base; State Bird Provisions and the Progress are just around the corner. As you would expect from such seasoned operators, everything about the Anchovy Bar conveys easy confidence: Service is warmly efficient, the setting is pure fun, and the commitment to our local seafood is unwavering.

— Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Baobab Fare

Detroit, MI

Hamissi Mamba saw obvious opportunity in the dearth of African restaurants in Detroit, the nation’s largest Black-majority city: Like a baobab tree that flourishes in the desert, a restaurant serving East African fare could blossom here. Diners had warmly embraced Mamba and his wife, Nadia Nijimbere, since they’d launched their wildly popular pop-ups serving the cuisine of their native Burundi in 2017 — shortly after they were granted asylum.

Now that Baobab Fare has a vibrant, permanent home, the couple’s take on the quintessential East African comfort dish ugali, a dense corn-flour ball served once a week alongside savory hot okra stew, is fast becoming a signature alongside the mbuzi, a dish of slow-roasted goat that parts effortlessly from the bone. Meanwhile, servers let folks know that the divine smell drawing them in from the outside comes from the nyumbani, beef slowly simmered in a tangy, ripe tomato sauce. The bustling restaurant employs fellow refugees and asylum-seekers, making a beacon of the bright-yellow slogan on its window: “Detroit ni nyumbani,” meaning, “Detroit is home.”

— Monica Williams, Eater Detroit editor

Bridgetown Roti

Los Angeles, CA

In a city that loved pop-ups even before they became one of the few pandemic bright spots, LA’s Bridgetown Roti stands apart. Caribbean cooking is not as easy to find here as in New York City or Miami, so in the early months of lockdown, when chef Rashida Holmes started slinging curry-filled patties and rotis based on her family’s recipes from Barbados, she quickly built a following.

Once I had my first taste of her red pepper goat roti, I knew why. Biting into California-bred goat shoulder, smoked into tender submission and wrapped in a deceptively delicate roti, I realized that here, finally, was takeout to make me forget that it had been months since I’d sat down to eat inside a restaurant at all. The gently spiced channa and sweet potato option is equally compelling, particularly for non-meat-eaters, and every order should include at least one patty — curried yam and mango for me, thanks. Holmes pays no less attention to her “apps” menu; try a jerk cucumber salad for needed crunch and a slice of macaroni and cheese pie, too. While Bridgetown Roti absolutely punches above its weight, it is still very much a pop-up. Game out where you’ll eat ahead of time, whether at one of Smorgasburg’s sunny picnic tables or on the hood of your car in the Arts District. The rotis will impress regardless.

— Hillary Dixler Canavan, restaurant editor

Disclosure: Eater LA reporter Mona Holmes is related to Rashida Holmes and did not participate in discussions about Bridgetown Roti’s place on the list.

Dhamaka

New York, NY

Restaurateur Roni Mazumdar and chef Chintan Pandya are building an empire without a playbook, let alone precedent. Devoted champions of homestyle Indian cooking under the moniker Unapologetic Foods, they cemented their status as hitmakers with their third restaurant, Dhamaka. Diners who fell for the street food and canteen-style cooking at Adda (the duo’s 2019 Best New Restaurant) clamored to get a taste of Dhamaka’s homage to rural and provincial fare. When it opened mid-pandemic, it instantly became one of the most sought-after reservations in New York City.

Dhamaka brings crowds but it doesn’t pander to them. Instead, Pandya is uncompromising in his dedication to the bold and complex range of flavors in Indian cuisine. He drapes a velvety cashew cream over from-scratch paneer. It’s equally appealing to diners most comfortable ordering saag paneer as it is to those looking to try the fiery gurda kapoora, chile-laced goat kidney and testicles, the kind of dish rarely seen in a trendy Manhattan restaurant. From a star anise-infused scotch cocktail garnished with a coconut water ice cube to the $190 bacchanalian rabbit feast, Dhamaka proves that a bucket-list dinner doesn’t have to involve unwieldy Eurocentric tasting menus — and shows Mazumdar and Pandya together are not finished redefining Indian restaurants in America.

— Bao Ong, Eater NY editor

Distant Relatives

Austin, TX

Standing out in the crowded Texas barbecue field means going beyond excellent meat. For pitmaster Damien Brockway, this work is intensely personal: His food truck, Distant Relatives, plays with and pushes back on Austin’s unwritten barbecue rules — largely informed by German and Czech traditions — by centering African American cooking through the lens of his own history. Brockway traces his lineage back to West Africa (these ancestors, along with the greater African diaspora, are the distant relatives the truck’s name refers to), using the paths of enslaved people in North America to shed light on the often-overlooked foundations of America’s broader barbecue culture.

Take sauce. Central Texas (especially Austin) tends to look down on dressing meats with basically anything, but Brockway rounds out nearly everything that comes off the smoker with some sort of delicious, culturally significant condiment. A tamarind and molasses sauce (the former native to Africa, the latter a legacy of plantation-system farming) tops pillowy pulled pork. For succulent chicken thighs, there’s chile vinegar butter that refers back to one of the mop sauces used by enslaved pitmasters — and Brockway’s family recipe for barbecue chicken. Sides like fresh corn grits topped with pickled okra show off his fine dining training and his consideration for staple African diaspora ingredients. There’s no other smokehouse like it in town, but the vibe is still pure Austin: The truck is parked at Meanwhile Brewing, where good beer and picnic tables await anyone ready for their next smoked meat adventure.

— Nadia Chaudhury, Eater Austin editor

Eeva

Philadelphia, PA

Eeva is a restaurant by bakers. Once a takeout-only operation, and now a dine-in pizzeria and weekend bakery next door to co-owner Mark Capriotti’s coffee shop, this Philly newcomer shows off what glorious things can happen when those pandemic culinary projects so many of us took on — mastering sourdough, attempting homemade bagels, studying up on natural wine — return to professional hands.

It starts with baker-chef and co-owner Greg Dunn’s exquisite pizza dough: Supremely airy, sour with a hint of sweetness, and satisfyingly chewy, Eeva’s crusts are already some of the city’s best. From there, the constantly changing menu showcases the experiments of its staff: The spicy Leah’s Pie, named for Leah Gotchel, Eeva’s first employee and one of its star pizzaiolas, is pasta puttanesca in pizza form, briny and rustic with capers, green olives, fresh oregano, and optional anchovies. Regulars try to land in server Catherine Brown’s section; as she has since Eeva’s early days, she brings her passion for natural wines (informed by the wine club she’s involved with) to the laid-back dining room. And those crispy sourdough country loaves — mixed, shaped, and baked by Katie Mach, who clocks in at 5 a.m. to create bread and bagels each weekend — are an especially welcome delight for those who got tired of trying to do it themselves.

— Dayna Evans, Eater Philly editor

Fonda Lupita

Sanford, NC

On Main Street in Sanford, North Carolina, a pink neon sign in a window serves as a beacon that something Instagrammable lies within this quiet community, while the smell of fresh corn tortillas promises serious cooking is happening, too. Some of North Carolina’s most sought-after meals are in its small cities and towns — there’s Kindred in Davidson and Chef & the Farmer in Kinston, for example — and the family-owned Fonda Lupita is primed to join that cadre of anchor restaurants.

Chef-owner Biridiana Frausto and her family prepare earthy tamales and peppery menudo on an ever-rotating menu that highlights cuisine from her mother’s home of Querétaro, Mexico. Customers happily dip crispy quesabirria tacos into rich consomé, and nearly everyone has a gordita on their table. The gorditas, a hit since opening in March 2020, boast char-flecked tortillas, generously filled with chorizo con papas or chicken tinga and a sprinkling of queso fresco. If it’s true that a good restaurant can help define the town it’s in — and it is certainly true in North Carolina — Fonda Lupita may just put Sanford on the map for having some of the most heartful cuisine in North Carolina.

— Erin Perkins, Eater Carolinas editor

Kasama

Chicago, IL

When Genie Kwon and husband Tim Flores had to hold off on allowing diners into their dream restaurant — part bakery, part Filipino gastropub — because of the pandemic, Kwon turned to Kasama’s fledgling Instagram page to introduce her jamon-topped, eclair-shaped danishes and ube-laced pastries to the world. When the couple was finally able to let people inside their modest Ukrainian Village storefront, their ravenous Instagram audience lined up along the sidewalk in masked, socially distant droves.

Kasama’s menu highlights Kwon’s French pastry expertise, while Flores handles the savory side. On that front, he’s given Chicago a world-class rendition of lumpia, fried to a delicate crisp and perfectly matched with a calamansi mimosa in the afternoon. His tribute to the city’s famed Italian beef combo — with longganisa instead of Italian sausage, and piled high with shaved pork adobo and giardiniera — is a decadent two-hander, deserving of a place among Chicago’s must-try delicacies. A modern Fil-Am tasting menu is still to come, but Flores and Kwon are already living their dream.

— Ashok Selvam, Eater Chicago editor

Oma’s Hideaway

Portland, OR

Portland’s best party is just past the mirrored bar, at a table surrounded by anemone-adorned walls. Soon, guava-pineapple Jell-O shots arrive, and then tender, flaky roti canai to dunk into luscious sweet corn curry. Another round — maybe mai tai slushies this time — and then, the piece de resistance, a juicy game hen straight from the charcoal oven, with crackly, caramel-colored skin best torn off and dunked in jammy coconut sambal. This is Oma’s Hideaway, and it’s the offbeat hangout Portland needs.

Restaurateurs Thomas and Mariah Pisha-Duffly are relative newcomers, but they are quick studies when it comes to figuring out what this city wants. Oma’s started as a pandemic takeout pop-up, slinging boxes of Flamin’ Hot Cheeto chicharrones and blood sausage dan dan noodles from a tent in front of Gado Gado, the couple’s first Portland restaurant. Now a standalone spot, Oma’s is where chef Thomas Pisha-Duffly conjures memories of his grandmother’s Indonesian Chinese cooking with his wonton mee, a nest of handmade egg noodles cradling char siu pork belly and plump wontons, just as easily as he pays homage to the classic American burger, topping his with American cheese and coconut-lime-leaf butter. The freewheeling menu and unabashed house party vibe are a thrilling reminder of what Portland dining can be at its best: It’s self-aware, but not self-serious; it’s meticulous, but it’s also fun.

— Brooke Jackson-Glidden, Eater Portland editor

Over Under

Miami, FL

While slick out-of-town arrivals dominated the Miami food conversation for the past few years, Brian Griffiths was busy figuring out what would make his self-described “Subtroppi Honki Tonk,” Over Under, feel even more Floridian. He found his answer in James McNeal’s cooking. His menu is a distinctly high-low affair, partnering crispy gator bites with sauce gribiche, filling empanadas with wild boar, and stacking a “not too fancy” seafood tower with rarely seen oysters from the nearby Treasure Coast plus wild-caught Gulf shrimp.

Since opening in the summer of 2020, Over Under has been where locals go to let their hair down and reconnect with friends. Turns out that the city was ready for a souped-up dive bar where the drinks are strong, the music (and the karaoke) is loud, the food is top-notch (the cheeseburger is one of the city’s finest), and the dress code is nonexistent, a welcome change from Miami’s famed flashy nightclubs. While temporarily closed for the next few weeks due to ongoing zoning issues, Miami’s revelers look forward to indulging in the good times and great food again soon.

— Olee Fowler, Eater Miami editor

The restaurants, pop-ups, and food businesses representing the best of dining in 20+ cities, according to Eater editors

Atlanta

Little Bear

After starting as a pop-up called Eat Me Speak Me, Little Bear is a charming neighborhood spot where Jarrett Stieber pokes fun at fine dining’s proclivity for tweezer food with dishes rivaling the five-star establishments he lampoons. Keep an eye out for the restaurant’s unofficial proprietor, a Great Pyrenees named Fernando.

Talat Market

When owners Parnass Savang and Rod Lassiter launched Talat Market as a pop-up, they committed to showcasing Thai dishes incorporating Georgia ingredients. That commitment continues at their Summerhill restaurant, where dishes like fish head soup, crispy rice salad, and grilled spiny lobster pair with martinis, natural wine, and beer slushies.

Tum Pok Pok

Adidsara Weerasin and Jakkrit Tuanphakdee’s Isan Thai menu is rife with transportive dishes often found at street vendors or in homes throughout Thailand. This includes sour sausage, larb khaotord, som tum (green papaya salad), and pad thai Pok Pok with giant freshwater prawns tossed in fragrant tamarind sauce. — Beth McKibben, Eater Atlanta editor

Austin

Birdie’s

Calling Birdie’s a European-style neighborhood wine bar doesn’t do justice to its magic. Its oft-changing selection of dishes is unpretentious but transcendent — chewy orecchiette with fennel pollen and sausage, tilefish in corn broth, and creamy soft serve with tangerine olive oil. Explore their extensive wine list on the breezy patio. — Erin Russell, Eater Austin associate editor

Comadre Panadería

Owner and baker Mariela Camacho launched her baked goods delivery service in the Austin and San Antonio areas during the pandemic, which she successfully turned into a weekly pop-up. Her delicious creations draw from her Xicana roots and are made with local ingredients when possible. This means light conchas, oh-so-rich pan de muerto, superb flour tortillas, and guava-filled delights. — Nadia Chaudhury, Eater Austin editor

Little Ola’s Biscuits

Fancy Southern restaurant Olamaie made an inspired pandemic pivot, becoming this casual biscuit sandwich shop. The restaurant’s famous fluffy biscuits are the perfect vehicle for sandwiches with pimento cheese, country ham, or just spiced apple butter. Don’t overlook the picnic-ready sides and desserts from rising star pastry chef Jules Stoddart. — Erin Russell, Eater Austin associate editor

Boston

Cicada Coffee Bar

Full of lush plants and mismatched furniture lovingly refurbished by chef and co-owner Vinh Le, this dreamy Vietnamese cafe is captivating. Sip a foamy Vietnamese coffee topped with Maine sea salt and eat banh mi in the peaceful backyard garden. Stay for their newly expanded dinner menu featuring oxtail with lemongrass broth and fresh noodles alongside beer or wine.

Comfort Kitchen

Throughout the pandemic and construction of its Dorchester restaurant opening next year, pop-up Comfort Kitchen has featured a rotating menu celebrating the African diaspora and its connections to cuisines from Asia to the Americas. Enjoy the bold spice of jerk roasted duck or a delicate fish curry packed with bright, fresh herbs.

Mahaniyom

Crunchy pieces of deep-fried chicken skin; Thai chile-spiked rice-and-pork sausage; a spicy taste of flying squid — this Brookline newcomer’s modern Thai small plates evoke late nights in Bangkok, complemented by, for example, a daiquiri infused with Thai herb mix 11 Tigers or a Sazerac with Thai tea-infused rye. — Rachel Blumenthal, Eater Boston editor

Carolinas

Leah & Louise

This restaurant, inspired by the Mississippi River Valley’s foodways, commits to comfort and community in Charlotte’s Camp North End. Owners Greg and Subrina Collier hire people from the neighborhood, offer a nightly pay-what-you-can dish, and wow their dinner guests with crispy chicken skins and ranch dressing, dirty grits, and slow-roasted cabbage with smoked sausage in a pork neck bisque.

Bar George

Charleston’s Bar George is fun — like hanging in your stoner friend’s ’70s-chic basement — but happens to make a phenomenal cocktail and roast a mean Peruvian chicken. Come for the couches and pinball machines; stay for the view of the open kitchen where the chef shucks oysters for guests. — Erin Perkins, Eater Carolinas editor

Chicago

Crust Fund Pizza

Crust Fund Pizza, an endeavor that announces a new menu monthly via Instagram for curbside pickup in a North Side alley, serves some of the city’s best tavern-style pies. Pop-up owner John Carruthers donates all proceeds to charity, sparking good Midwestern vibes and soul satisfaction.

Taqueria Chingón

Taqueria Chingón challenges what Chicagoans want from their tacos with beautiful al pastor, vegetarian, octopus, and even some seldom-seen-here meats, like morcilla. From the owner of French restaurant Le Bouchon and some talented chefs, there’s major culinary technique stuffed into these tortillas, and Chicago’s taco future looks stunning.

Rye Deli & Drink

Rye reinvigorated the deli genre in the West Loop with a multicultural approach to dishes like a tortilla and matzo ball soup hybrid, cold-smoked salmon, and brik — a daring Tunisian egg pastry stuffed with potatoes. The smoker also cranks out top-notch pastrami. And don’t sleep on the bagels. — Ashok Selvam, Eater Chicago editor

Dallas

Roots Southern Table

In a sleek space in Farmers Branch, chef Tiffany Derry eschews dated stereotypes that paint Southern food as grease-slicked and stodgy, one plate of black-eyed pea hummus at a time. Derry’s take on the cuisine deftly ranges from her mother’s blue crab claw-studded gumbo recipe to jerk lamb chops served with Hoppin’ John, and of course, the universally beloved duck fat fried chicken.

Meridian

In Dallas, Brazilian cuisine is primarily showcased in chain churrascarias serving large hunks of meats on swords. But at Meridian, executive chef Junior Borges’s stunning restaurant at the Village, flavors from the chef’s home country are vibrant and fresh, showcased in plates like Calabresa sausage served with egg and onion farofa, cod croquettes, and a whole octopus roasted over fire. — Amy McCarthy, Eater Houston and Dallas editor

Detroit

East Eats

Founding partners Lloyd Talley and Kwaku Osei-Bonsu centered their restaurant around geodesic domes furnished for outdoor dining, vegan chef Nygel Fyvie’s East Asian-influenced menu, and local pop-up collaborations. To make the most of the format, the restaurant hosts sneaker bingo, meditations before Sunday brunches, and dancing between the domes.

Oak & Reel

Opening a seafood-centric fine dining restaurant in a city lacking both was a challenge. Pivoting that restaurant into a fast-casual spot during the pandemic was even harder. Still, the restaurant consistently sells out of its swordfish with eggplant and peppers and its array of made-in-house pasta almost nightly.

Sozai

From Hajime Sato — the chef whose restaurant Mashiko advanced the sustainable sushi movement in Seattle — comes Sozai, an omakase-meets-kappo sushi restaurant where Sato brings expansive creativity to seafood from the Great Lakes. Savor the delicate ikura and wash it down with one of the restaurant’s highly curated sake selections. — Monica Williams, Eater Detroit editor

DC

Daru

Chef Suresh Sundas’s creations — chicken reshmi kebabs with a hint of blue cheese and a sour cherry sauce; turmeric-stained sea bass grilled in a banana leaf and served with tomato and Sichuan pepper chutney — stand up well to the most-buzzed-about cocktail in Washington: a hari daiquiri made with lime, kefir, and a mint and cilantro syrup.

Rose Ave Bakery

Rose Nguyen and her team of bakers stuff every preordered box with a joyous expression of Asian American identity. Appreciation for past generations of Filipino, Taiwanese, Japanese, and Vietnamese sweets can be detected in inventions such as ensaymada cruffins, Spam musubi croissants, and soft sweet potato brioche doughnuts piped full of passion fruit curd or milk tea cream.

Yellow

Michael Rafidi’s cafe complement to the justifiably pricey, hearth-fired Levantine cooking at Albi has been a canary-yellow lining for the first-time restaurant owner during the COVID-19 pandemic. Yellow embraced takeout and expanded beyond Arabic-influenced viennoiserie to include sandwiches built on pita, mezze made with mid-Atlantic produce, and a labneh soft serve affogato. — Gabriel Hiatt, Eater D.C. editor

Houston

March

Over six- or nine-course tasting menus, chef Felipe Riccio traces the evolution of Mediterranean cuisine by periodically focusing on a different region, including the Maghreb (Northwest Africa), the Levant (eastern Mediterranean coast), and Andalusia and Murcia in southern Spain. Master sommelier June Rodil takes that ethos a step further with two separate wine pairings — one a more traditional selection, the other an experimental assortment.

Bludorn

This highly anticipated restaurant from Daniel Boulud alum Aaron Bludorn intertwines Texan and new American cuisines like Gulf seafood cioppino, short rib ravioli with blue cheese and figs, and locally sourced quail, with a hint of French finesse. Together, Bludorn and his general manager Cherif Mbodji (also a Boulud alum) have built an elegant restaurant with intimate, detailed service that isn’t at all fussy.

Feges BBQ

After years of serving lunch to cubicle warriors from a business district food court, husband-and-wife duo Erin Smith and Patrick Feges finally have their own (massive) space. Their tender smoked brisket and juicy turkey breast are some of the best in the city. Creative sides like chana masala and hog fat cornbread as well as a playful wine list defy Houston’s barbecue norms. — Brittanie Shey, Eater Houston associate editor

LA

Mírame

Modern Mexican cuisine thrives in the heart of Beverly Hills, where Joshua Gil serves the rustic flavors of Baja California with seasonal LA ingredients. Think artichoke and summer truffle tostadas, salmon skin chicharron, and Puerto Nuevo-style langoustine tacos. The showstopping deep-fried snapper in masa tomatillo jus comes with big floppy heirloom blue corn tortillas. — Matthew Kang, Eater LA editor

Jerusalem Chicken

This Middle Eastern oasis in Windsor Hills/View Park boasts Palestinian recipes by the same family that runs the popular Orleans & York sandwich spot. Roasted chicken comes in four different styles: sumac, lemon and garlic, onion and potatoes, or stuffed with rice, mushrooms, and beef. — Mona Holmes, Eater LA reporter

Bé Ù

How should restaurants address gentrification? Uyên Lê, chef and owner of Bé U, believes keeping her Vietnamese fare as accessible as possible (under $10) and paying her workers above-market wages can help. It’s that mission — and the caramelized pork with eggs — that makes the restaurant one to visit time and again. — Cathy Chaplin, Eater LA associate editor

Las Vegas

Brezza

Nicole Brisson (a James Beard Award semifinalist) and Jason Rocheleau’s Brezza at Resorts World offers a delightful coastal Italian menu that spans handmade pasta and dishes cooked on a Tuscan-style, wood-fired grill over white oak and olive branches.

Delilah

The long-awaited Delilah, a breathtaking supper club from H.Wood Group at Wynn Las Vegas, features a two-level space with lavish chandeliers, a fireplace, refined American fare, and entertainers dancing alongside a live jazz band. Two sweeping sets of staircases adorned with bronze sculptures that were commissioned for Delilah funnel down to the equally dazzling Anchor Bar.

The Silver Stamp

Think of the Silver Stamp as a step into a 1970s den replete with wood-paneled walls, low-slung ceilings, and vintage beer memorabilia lining the perimeter. The Gateway District bar comes from Rose Signor and Andrew Smith and offers 20 beers on tap, with another 50 available by the can or bottle. — Susan Stapleton, Eater Vegas editor

Miami

Cote

Plenty of high-profile restaurant imports came to South Florida over the past 16 months, but none stood out more than Cote. The Miami location of the Michelin-starred New York City Korean steakhouse has quickly become the city’s go-to special-occasion restaurant due to its sleek setting, dry-aged beef offerings, attentive service, and (very) strong martinis.

Rosie’s

Brunch is the star no matter the day of the week at Rosie’s, arguably the most talked-about pop-up restaurant in Miami. First making its appearance in Overtown before moving to its current location in Allapattah, it features decadent Southern-leaning cuisine that draws crowds for its craveable soft scramble toast, spicy chicken and waffles, and rich shrimp and grits.

Leku

One of the most stylish newcomers in Miami is housed right inside the Rubell Museum, serving a wide-ranging menu of Basque-region dishes that are as eye-pleasing as the art inside the museum. Come for the Iberico ham, creamy croquetas, and Galician octopus, stay for the gin and tonics and people-watching on the lush greenery-filled patio. — Olee Fowler, Eater Miami editor

Nashville

Locust

Chef Trevor Moran’s casual dumpling den and kakigori destination in bustling 12 South. The closely cropped menu over-delivers with steamed dumplings drizzled in chile oil, crispy royal red shrimp toast, create-your-own beef tartare hand rolls, and fluffy surprise-filled shaved ice heaps, ranging in flavors from salted caramel to shortbread or almond milk.

Maiz De La Vida

Tlaxcala, Mexico, native Julio Hernandez didn’t need his own brick-and-mortar restaurant to make a name for himself. Instead, he took his food truck to restaurants and farmers markets around town, serving crispy, cheesy birria tacos and tamales using high-caliber, handmade tortillas made with organic, GMO-free heirloom corn.

Yolan

Helmed by multi-James Beard Award-winning chef Tony Mantuano and wine and hospitality expert Cathy Mantuano, the Joseph hotel restaurant raised the bar for Italian dining (and outstanding wine lists) in Nashville. Modern dishes join family-heirloom recipes on the prix fixe and a la carte menus, which feature truffle-topped gnocchi, cacio e pepe, and more. — Delia Jo Ramsey, Eater Nashville editor

New Orleans

Fritai

You can’t miss the bright colors at Fritai — in tropical drinks made with clairin, in chef Charly Pierre’s Haitian specialties accompanied by spicy pikliz, or inside, where walls of deep orange, yellow, and green show off work by Haitian artists.

Dakar Nola

Spanning the course of a year from three different venues, chef Serigne Mbaye’s blending of traditional West African and Louisiana ingredients resulted in contemporary Senegalese tasting menus that were simultaneously delicate and bold. Their return is eagerly awaited. — Clair Lorell, Eater NOLA editor

NY

Aldama

Aldama is, on one level, a party. As Dominican, Puerto Rican, and Colombian tunes play, bartenders fill chatty patrons’ glasses with frozen purple mezcal cocktails. But chef Gerardo Alcaraz’s modernist al pastor tacos with pineapple-serrano gel and vegan mole negro show that Aldama might also be the city’s most technically ambitious Mexican spot in years. — Ryan Sutton, Eater NY chief critic

Ayat

Order from the counter (check out the baked goods there, too), then settle in for a family-style feast of bone-in chunks of lamb marinated in fermented yogurt, whole roasted chickens, and baked kebab casseroles, all served in decorative ovenware. — Robert Sietsema, Eater NY senior critic

Bánh Vietnamese Shop House

NYC’s Vietnamese restaurant scene has never been better. Exhibit A: John Nguyen and Nhu Ton’s Bánh Vietnamese Shop House. Their hit pop-up that went beyond pho and banh mi is now a brick-and-mortar, home to plates of crispy, sticky rice cakes and steamed rice rolls paired with pork belly — dishes rarely found in NYC. — Bao Ong, Eater NY editor

Philadelphia

Gabriella’s Vietnam

Chef Thanh Nguyen’s Vietnamese restaurant in the heart of East Passyunk is the perfect setting for groups. Platters — like cha ca thang long (turmeric-rubbed catfish with fermented anchovy dipping sauce) — are meant for sharing, while the banh beo chen open-faced dumplings are a flavorful, delightful crowd-pleaser, too.

Mina’s World

The pandemic showed diners that going out is about community as much as food. So it is at Mina’s World, where rose syrup lattes pair with locally made samosas and Okie Dokie Donuts, and the welcoming staff and free community fridge out front act as pillars of the neighborhood.​​

Down North

Pizza is a religion in Philly, and Down North, for good reason, has amassed countless devoted followers. The Detroit-style pies (crispy, cheesy, topped with Norf sauce and barbecue chicken) draw crowds, and its worthy mission — hiring formerly incarcerated workers at fair wages — puts it over the top. — Dayna Evans, Eater Philly editor

Portland

Republica

Republica is quite simply revolutionary within Portland’s larger restaurant world for how it investigates, challenges, and pays homage to Mexican culinary traditions. Whether in cochinita pibil tortas from its casual daytime cafe, or the evening tasting menu’s heady chanterelle-laced rice risotto and nixtamalized beans, chef Lauro Romero excels.

Baon Kainan

Ethan Leung left Seattle’s fine dining scene to start this food cart with his wife, food service newcomer Geri Leung. They insist their joyful Filipino American menu is “not your tita’s cooking.” Instead, find kare kare-topped fries and what’s arguably Portland’s best adobo (improved only by a square of coconut-laden bibingka). — Brooke Jackson-Glidden, Eater Portland editor

Seattle

Communion Restaurant & Bar

Since the early ’90s, catering chef Kristi Brown has cooked up “Seattle Soul,” her signature mix of Southern-style comfort classics with Vietnamese influences and regional ingredients. In December 2020, she and her son Damon Bomar opened the always-packed Communion within the historic Liberty Bank Building, part of what Africatown’s CEO has called “a Black business renaissance.”

Musang

Musang is a community-minded Filipino restaurant in Seattle’s Beacon Hill neighborhood. Chef Melissa Miranda is a leader in the Seattle Community Kitchen Collective that distributed free meals to those in need throughout the pandemic, and her Little Wildcats program offers Filipinx food education to kids and families. — Mark Van Streefkerk, interim Eater Seattle editor

San Diego

Callie

Callie is a homecoming debut from chef Travis Swikard, who returned to San Diego after a decade working with Daniel Boulud in New York. Six months in, Swikard’s sunny SoCal take on Mediterranean cooking has brought a well-deserved spotlight to the city — and Callie’s still the hottest reservation in town.

Sovereign

Opened during the pandemic in a downtown neighborhood in dire need of dining diversity, Sovereign reaches beyond the typical pad thais and curries to share lesser-seen dishes that are both thrilling and transportive, conveying the regional flavors of Isan while highlighting seafood from San Diego shores.

Vaga

After attracting acclaim for her Mexican menu at El Jardín, Vaga gives insight into how chef Claudette Zepeda’s personal cooking style has been influenced by living on both sides of the border, reflecting the chef’s Tijuana upbringing and time spent in San Diego’s Asian communities while contributing to North County’s rising food scene. — Candice Woo, Eater San Diego editor

San Francisco

Horn

Opening despite all the odds in October 2020, Horn Barbecue is easily the Bay Area’s biggest hit of the pandemic, where in an industrial corner of West Oakland, self-taught pitmaster Matt Horn turns meat into magic with nothing but patience, skill, and a whole lot of smoke. — Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Abacá

With delicate and layered interpretations of dishes like sisig and pancit, chef Francis Ang creatively infuses Filipino fare with the best of California’s bounty at Abacá, a lush and sun-soaked haven for contemporary Southeast Asian cuisine, unexpectedly located on the ground floor of a Fisherman’s Wharf hotel. — Lauren Saria, Eater SF editor

Ettan

While the South Bay is better known for its Indian restaurants, Palo Alto has found a Michelin-starred breakout in California-Indian restaurant Ettan. Chef-owner Srijith Gopinathan brings bright, arching flavors to whole-roasted red snapper and other colorful dishes, while founder Ayesha Thapar envisioned a gorgeous dining room, from the dramatic skylight to the maximalist patterns. — Becky Duffett, Eater SF deputy editor

The on-demand delivery app will now ship “iconic eats” all across the country. Why though?

DoorDash can now delivery you fancy caviar service from Carbone and pastrami sandwiches from Katz’s Delicatessen, even if you live nowhere near either of those places: Last week, DoorDash quietly debuted nationwide delivery on its platform, giving customers the ability to have everything from pie to fresh flowers delivered from thousands of miles away. The company’s new nationwide shipping offering seems like a move directly aimed at the neck of Goldbelly, which has been delivering culinary icons like fresh lobster rolls from the Clam Shack in Kennebunkport, Maine, and brisket from Austin’s famed Franklin Barbecue since it was founded in 2013.

Goldbelly has ostensibly proven that food obsessives are willing to pay more than $100 for an order of bagels from Russ & Daughters that’s packed in dry ice and schlepped across the country by FedEx. As a result, the service has been welcomed into the hospitality industry readily by a number of prominent restaurateurs, including Danny Meyer, whose investment firm bought a stake in Goldbelly in 2018; in 2020 during pandemic shutdowns, the site reported a 300% increase in year-over-year business, pulling in an additional $100 million in funding earlier this year. With more and more customers accustomed to the idea of shipping restaurant food across the country (Goldbelly also claims that the pandemic brought in one million new customers in 2020), DoorDash now looking to gobble up some of that pie.

Following its 2019 acquisition of delivery app Caviar, DoorDash controls a substantial majority of the American food delivery market: according to an analysis conducted by Bloomberg, about 57 percent. In contrast, its closest competitor, UberEats, only controls about 26 percent of the market, and that’s including the share it gained when it dropped upwards of $2 billion to acquire Postmates in 2020. That’s a pretty dramatic shift from 2018, when Grubhub (which also owns Seamless) controlled more than half the market.

Adding nationwide delivery gives DoorDash even more power. Now, it can entice restaurants to exclusively use its platform — Katz’s Delicatessen and Carbone, for example — with a value-add that UberEats just can’t offer. It’s clear that the company is pursuing those exclusivity agreements, too — Cake Boss star Buddy Valastro is baking up a “Sweet Potato Pie Dream Cake” that will only be on offer via DoorDash’s nationwide shipping platform. If DoorDash entices enough restaurants to go national, users could get accustomed to using its app for all their food-delivery and gifting needs.

What is less certain, though, is how this move will impact food delivery in the long term. It’s possible that nationwide shipping could give DoorDash an even tighter grip on the market. It’s also possible that the company could decide that shipping Lou Malnati’s pizzas from Chicago to Connecticut is a more profitable business model than restaurant delivery.

But it faces an uphill battle. Goldbelly has already secured its place in the market thanks to a seriously extensive line-up of vendors from restaurants all over the country. Goldbelly boasts more than 850 restaurants on its platform, compared to less than 30 for DoorDash at its launch. Its customer service is revered, while DoorDash’s has inspired literally thousands of negative reviews on sites like Reddit, SiteJabber, and the Better Business Bureau.

Speaking of terrible reviews, it’s a little puzzling why DoorDash would think that restaurants would want to work with them further. On face, the promise of nationwide delivery seems like a solid option. Spots that are locally beloved and tourist traps alike can hawk their wares to a brand new audience of customers, and that’s especially compelling in a time when profits are more scarce than ever.

That only works, though, if restaurants actually believe that DoorDash can improve their business, and right now, they just don’t have that faith. The company has treated independent restaurateurs like absolute garbage in recent years, charging them exorbitant fees and selling their goods without permission. Why, now, would these establishments trust DoorDash with shipping their signature dishes across the country when, frequently, the still-not-profitable company can’t even get an order across town without issues?

Cozy soup and stew season is here, and with it, an easy weeknight dinner option

Welp, the end of Daylight Savings is here again, thrusting folks in the U.S. into the annual tradition of lamenting both the morning and evening darkness, day after day, for literal months. But with that comes the official start of cozy soup and stew season, aka anything you can leave simmering on the stove or throw in an Instant Pot that will have you feeling warm and full by dinner. That said: It’s time for chili, and here now are a half-dozen of the Eater crew’s favorite chili recipes:

Interstate Chili

Sunny Anderson, Food Network

When I tell you I have never made another chili recipe in my life, Sunny Anderson’s interstate chili is why. I’ve become a loyalist: It’s hot, smoky, and full of complex, nuanced flavors layered throughout. Chili can fall very easily into one-note, bland territory, but I really credit the addition of chorizo here with bringing Sunny’s recipe to life: It adds something special to the mix that pairs perfectly with the spices. The Food Network comment section has folks debating whether the recipe calls for too much cinnamon, but I can assure you, the cinnamon level is real and it is spectacular. I’ve got a whole batch of this sitting in my fridge as we speak: It pairs well with crunchy soup crackers and a cozy post-chili nap. — Stefania Orrù, supervising producer

Vegan Sweet Potato Black Bean Chili

Nora Taylor, Nora Cooks

I do not come from any locations or cultures that have hard opinions on chili, but I have always been a big fan of cooking that involves a big pot of stuff. I also, frequently, have no idea what I’m making for dinner until I realize it’s 4 p.m., which means vegan chili is usually what I end up with. This version involves stuff I tend to always have in my kitchen — cans of tomatoes, cans of black beans, some sweet potatoes that I have forgotten to roast. It’s an easy recipe to adapt, too. I end up using some form of stock or sometimes beer in place of the water, and since I’m not vegan, top it with cheese or sour cream if I have it. But it’s a reliable, hearty bowl for when I have forgotten to plan ahead. — Jaya Saxena, senior staff writer

Classic Chili Con Carne

Robb Walsh, NYT Cooking

Even though some might think it is barbecue, the actual official dish of Texas is chili: there’s classic “Texas red” and chili con carne, the latter of which is ubiquitous in Tex-Mex cuisine. Slathered over enchiladas or piled on top of crunchy Fritos with shredded cheese and sour cream, Texas food historian Robb Walsh’s chili con carne recipe is deep in flavor without being too complicated to make. It’s best with the three different types of meat called for in the recipe — especially if the venison was gifted to you fresh from a hunter — but a nicely marbled hunk of chuck roast will do just fine. Do not, however, skip Walsh’s instructions for homemade ancho chili powder — it’s absolutely essential. — Amy McCarthy, staff writer

Pork Cheek and Black-Eyed Pea Chili

Michael Symon, Food & Wine

This chili came into my life when my husband contributed to a family chili cook-off (I’ve since made it myself a few times). Though I haven’t ever successfully found the titular pork cheeks to use (pork shoulder works fine as a substitute), I like this as an alternative to traditional chili recipes: I almost think of it more as a pork and bean stew. It’s pleasantly smoky, and has a lot of texture to it. And the Cleveland native in me always likes to show a little love for a recipe from a hometown chef, pork evangelist Michael Symon. — Missy Fredrick, cities manager

Instant Pot Ground Beef Chili

Michelle Tam, Nom Nom Paleo

I love this Nom Nom Paleo recipe as a base for chili: I swap in either ground bison or ground lamb, and use frozen fajita blend instead of chopping up the veggies. Then I make the dish decidedly non-paleo by adding a drained can each of black beans, kidney beans, and garbanzo beans. Take away my Texas card, but I love beans in my chili. The result is a nicely textured chili (thanks to the beans) with a thick, rich, silky broth, perfect for making chili pies. — Brittanie Shey, Eater Dallas and Eater Houston associate editor

My Dad’s Turkey Chili Recipe

Jenny Levison, Souper Jenny

As someone who a) doesn’t eat meat and b) has a fractious gastrointestinal relationship with beans, I have never exactly craved chili, no matter how much I love the idea of a big, steaming pot of the stuff on a cold day. That said, I have developed real feelings for this recipe that my boyfriend introduced me to not long after we began dating. Its simplicity belied what little I’d been taught about chili, namely that it typically involves no less than 45 ingredients, at least one of which has to be a wild card like a can of Coke. This is just onions, peppers, beans, chili powder, and a little bit of brown sugar — and the Impossible ground meat that we substitute for the turkey the recipe calls for. Our favorite way to eat it is to make big heaping bowls that we top with crushed tortilla chips and obscene amounts of Cholula. As the temperatures drop I find myself looking forward to its warm embrace. — Rebecca Flint Marx, Eater senior editor

Finally, a pumpkin dessert that isn’t dominated by spices — or, for that matter, pumpkin

I was on the hunt for canned pumpkin puree, and so far, it was not going well. After finding the shelf at my go-to grocery store completely cleared of the familiar orange cans, I drove across the street to another major grocer — and again, no luck. Despite the suburban perks of having a car and several large grocery stores within driving distance, a quick errand was turning into a multi-stop scavenger hunt (in the pouring rain, no less). By the time I entered the baking aisle at the third store, my feet were thoroughly soaked and I was peeved. I’d never been more relieved to see cans of pumpkin puree lining the shelf.

America’s collective obsession with everything pumpkin continues to baffle me (I get it, but I don’t get it). Though I’ve come around to appreciating its namesake pie, I’ve found many pumpkin-flavored treats a bit too moist, heavy on the spice, and/or one-dimensional and predictable. So why did I jump on the bandwagon and develop a pumpkin cake for this month’s column? Precisely because I wanted the challenge of creating a version that wasn’t dominated by spices, had a decently structured crumb, and worked in tandem with other flavors for greater nuance — in other words, a cake that would make my search for pumpkin puree worth it.

This pumpkin brown butter whiskey cake fits the bill and then some. During the development process, I deliberately chose to omit the usual cinnamon and spices, and turned to brown sugar and brown butter to channel the same warm, autumnal notes on a cleaner canvas. Instead of using liquified butter, the brown butter is refrigerated until it’s solidified and creamable (a technique I picked up from this recipe), which requires some planning ahead but results in a tighter crumb while maintaining the browned butter’s deep nutty flavor. Unlike other pumpkin-heavy recipes, this cake calls for just half a cup of puree — enough to impart the characteristic earthiness of pumpkin without monopolizing the overall flavor, and perfect for using up any leftover puree you may have in the fridge. Whiskey is the final piece that ties the dessert together, adding just the right amount of edge and depth to both the batter and whipped cream. (I’m a firm believer that sweets are better with a bit of booze; I have yet to be proven wrong.)

“Pumpkin brown butter whiskey cake” may be a mouthful, but with every bite, you’ll realize that each of these ingredients rightfully deserves a place in the recipe’s title. The cozy, subtle flavors play off one another to create a cake that exudes everything I love about fall without relying solely on pumpkin or the classic spices to carry the dish. Like many recipes I develop, this one-layer cake is versatile enough to be a treat to nibble on throughout the week (been there, done that) or a crowd-pleasing, seasonal dessert to share at the dinner table. Regardless of the occasion, I’ll be making it again and again — as long as I remember to keep canned pumpkin puree stocked in my pantry at all times.

Pumpkin Brown Butter Whiskey Cake Recipe

Makes one 8-inch round cake

Ingredients:

For the cake:

½ cup (113 grams or 1 stick) unsalted butter
1 cup (140 grams) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¾ cup (150 grams) light brown sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
½ cup (120 grams) pure canned pumpkin puree
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons bourbon or whiskey (no need to use top-shelf liquor)
¼ cup whole milk, at room temperature

For the whiskey whipped cream:

¾ cup heavy whipping cream, cold
3 tablespoons powdered sugar
1 tablespoon bourbon or whiskey
Pinch of kosher salt

For the topping:

Chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts work well), toasted coconut chips (like this one), or crushed gingersnaps

Instructions:

Step 1: Start by browning the butter: Cut the butter into rough chunks and melt in a small or medium saucepan over medium heat. Continue cooking the butter, stirring with a rubber spatula as it foams, until it browns and smells nutty, about 5 to 7 minutes (be sure to stir constantly as the butter begins to brown). Immediately pour the butter, along with the browned bits, into a small heatproof bowl or measuring cup — it’s important to get it out of the pan quickly, or the solids will continue to darken and burn.

Step 2: Refrigerate the butter for 1 to 2 hours, until solidified but soft enough to cream. If your butter is too firm, remove it from the fridge and let it sit at room temperature until softened.

Step 3: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease an 8-inch round cake pan with nonstick cooking spray. Line the bottom with a parchment round, and grease the parchment.

Step 4: In a medium bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt.

Step 5: Using an electric mixer or a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the brown butter until smooth. Add the brown sugar and cream together until well-combined and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes.

Step 6: Beat in the egg until incorporated, then scrape down the bowl with a rubber spatula. Add the pumpkin and vanilla and beat until combined. The mixture may look slightly curdled at this point, but will come together in the next step.

Step 7: Add half of the dry ingredients to the bowl and beat just until combined. Beat in the milk and 2 tablespoons of whiskey. Scrape down the bowl, then beat in the rest of the dry ingredients, taking care not to over-mix.

Step 8: Transfer the batter to the prepared pan and smooth the surface with a small offset spatula. Lightly drop the pan on the counter one or two times to get rid of any air pockets. Bake the cake for 28 to 32 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through, until it’s lightly browned and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Step 9: Let the cake cool for 15 minutes, then gently run a small offset spatula around the edges to loosen. Carefully transfer the cake to a cooling rack.

Step 10: While the cake is cooling, make the whiskey whipped cream: Combine the heavy cream, powdered sugar, whiskey, and a pinch of salt in a large bowl. Using an electric hand mixer or a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the cream until medium-to-stiff peaks form and it holds its shape. Do not over-whip.

Step 11: When the cake is completely cool, spread the whipped cream on top. For a cleaner look, I like to run a small offset spatula around the top edge of the cake to create an even “wall” of cream and go back to gently smooth the top. Garnish with chopped nuts, coconut chips, or crushed gingersnaps.

Note: If you refrigerate the assembled cake (covered), allow it to soften at room temperature for 20 to 30 minutes before enjoying.

Joy Cho is a freelance writer, recipe developer, and pastry chef based in New York City.
Celeste Noche is a Filipino American food, travel, and portrait photographer based between Portland, Oregon, and San Francisco.
Recipe tested by Deena Prichep

Everybody calm down, some slices — especially in Brazil — just require it

Despite living most of my life in the U.S., I grew up in a deeply Brazilian household. Along with greeting everyone with a kiss on the cheek, binging novelas with my grandmother, and wearing only white on New Year’s Eve, that meant we ate nearly everything — even the occasional cheeseburger — with a fork and knife. Most notably, though, this includes pizza.

When I recently asked a family member about why she eats her pizza with a fork and knife, she responded, “Well what else would you eat it with? Your hands?” As a dual citizen, I’ve learned to enjoy my pizza both with cutlery and without, but there’s something about burnt fingers, greasy hands, and tomato sauce stains that does have me siding with the utensils, a move that, especially during my two-year stint in New York, risked me being labeled a “pizza-forker” with the likes of former Ohio Governor John Kasich and NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio. But in my and the entire nation of Brazil’s defense, there’s a pretty good reason for it.

Brazil’s first brick-and-mortar pizzeria opened in 1910 in São Paulo, following a wave of Italian immigrants who had settled there at the end of the 19th century. Brazilian pizzaiolos took creative liberties with the dish, incorporating nontraditional and often bulky toppings that run the gamut from hard-boiled eggs to canned tuna to brigadeiro, a sticky chocolate mousse made with condensed milk. Brazilian pizza became, well, Brazilian, and over the decades its popularity throughout the country boomed to the fanaticism we see today.

Modern Brazilian pizza menus are like a journey into my grandmother’s kitchen, with everyday ingredients like chicken, ham, tuna, eggs, olives, broccoli, onions, and requeijão (a softer version of cream cheese) available as standard toppings. Take the Portuguesa, for instance, a staple topping combo with hard-boiled eggs, onions, peas, ham, and loads of cheese. It’s gravitationally impossible to lift a slice without losing an ingredient or two. The only way to keep the slice’s topping mix — and thereby culinary integrity — intact is to use your fork.

Another example is the quatro queijos, an extra-cheesy concoction of mozzarella, parmesan, gorgonzola, and the soft catupiry cheese. It comes piping hot, and lifting it with your hands can set off an avalanche of gooey cheese onto your lap. I would never attempt to eat such a slice without utensils, and if you happen to find yourself in a Brazilian pizzeria, you shouldn’t either.

I will also note that most Brazilian pizza crusts are nothing like the firm New York slice that’s easy to hold or fold over like an envelope — which explains why slice culture doesn’t exist here. You’d never see President Jair Bolsonaro casually eating pizza on a sidewalk with his hands in Brazil, as he recently did in New York. Back home, the crust structure is thinner and softer and almost crepe-like toward the very bottom. If he or anyone tried to pick up a fresh slice overloaded with toppings, it would quickly flop over.

Yet even as lighter, Neapolitan-style pies and gourmet pizzas multiply across Brazil, most diners continue reaching for their utensils. It can be a tough pill to swallow, especially for outsiders. Chef and native New Yorker Sei Shiroma had to come to terms with this when he opened his first pizza restaurant, Ferro e Farinha, in Rio de Janeiro in 2014. Shiroma’s pies are made with naturally fermented dough and cooked in a wood-fired oven, which, unlike traditional Brazilian pizza, results in a light and crispy crust. “This is the kind of pizza I recommend you eat with your hands,” Shiroma tells me.

The chef, who moved from New York to Rio a decade ago, used to give this advice to all his diners, and when he opened his first pizzeria, forks and knives weren’t part of the picture. Diners often asked for them, and Shiroma says he would use that as an opportunity to educate them on the “best way” to enjoy his pizza — i.e. with their hands.

Shiroma has since given in to Brazilian pizza-cutting culture and is well on his way to opening a fourth location. He says he’s not here to tell diners how to eat, but rather, serve them really good pizza. And at all his restaurants, the tables are now outfitted with forks and knives. “Pizza doesn’t have to be the kind of pizza that New Yorkers think of as pizza,” says Shiroma. And it doesn’t have to be eaten that way, either.

So the next time you order a pizza in Brazil, or New York, or wherever your favorite sit-down pizzeria lives, feel confident reaching for a knife and fork if the slice calls for it. And if you ever see anyone else doing the same, cut them some slack. They might just be from Brazil.

Carla Vianna is a travel writer and photographer living in Rio de Janeiro. Nicole Medina is a Philly-based illustrator who loves capturing adventure through her art using bold colors and patterns.