Smoky Kashmiri chile powder and rich ghee are the foundations of this rogan josh recipe adapted from Ahdoo’s Hotel in Srinagar, Kashmir. Cooked for weddings and other auspicious occasions, the Kashmiri feast, or wazwan, can feature up to 36 dishes, often including these tender lamb shanks. The cooks who prepare the banquet are supervised by a master chef, or wouste waze, who is schooled in the art of this meat-centric meal. 

Featured in “Perfect Union” by Betsy Andrews in the August/September 2014 issue.

The post Rogan Josh (Kashmiri Chile-Braised Lamb) appeared first on Saveur.

This piece originally appeared in SAVEUR’s Fall/Winter 2025 issue. See more stories from Issue 205.

Like many in Karakalpakstan, an autonomous republic in western Uzbekistan, Klishbay Jumanyazov learned to cook while fishing. He spent his days on the Amu Darya delta, where Central Asia’s most important river meets the Aral Sea, once the world’s fourth-largest lake. Born under Soviet rule in 1948 near the fishing town of Moynaq, Jumanyazov spent weekends on the water catching sturgeon and bream, which he’d boil into soups, stew with flour into a porridge called qarma, or simmer with rice, carrots, and onions for fish plov, a local variant of the emblematic dish.

Like most outsiders, I came to Moynaq to understand the tragedy of the Aral Sea, which has lost 90 ­percent of its surface area since the 1960s. For generations, the Sea had been the ­lifeblood of the Karakalpak people, who lived as seminomadic pastoralists under various rulers, including khanates, tsars, the USSR, and now independent Uzbekistan. “Everything here was made with fish,” Jumanyazov told me on a blustery April day. Some cooks even mixed roe into dense sorghum bread. But fish plov emerged more recently, in parallel with the disaster that upended life here—a potent symbol for a place increasingly foreign to itself.

In the boom years of the 1950s, Soviet workers flocked to Moynaq’s fisheries, including ethnic Uzbeks who brought plov from the fertile east. Though ­legend attributes the dish’s invention to the 10th-century scientist Ibn Sina, of the Silk Road city of Bukhara, its true origins are obscure. In the Soviet period, when national identities were reorganized around culinary traditions, plov became a hallmark of Central Asia—especially Uzbekistan—where it exists in countless regional renditions. While Uzbeks often gem their plovs with raisins and chickpeas, Karakalpaks use only root vegetables and a shimmer of cottonseed oil—a reflection of scarcity in a dish usually defined by abundance. Moynaq’s fish plov is geographically bound, virtually unknown even in the nearby Karakalpak capital of Nukus.

Oktyabr Dospanov, curator of the Nukus Museum of Art’s archaeology department, explained that rice cultivation in Karakalpakstan took off in the 1960s, when Soviet agronomists introduced it as a salt-tolerant crop for the area’s saline soil. Concurrently, state engineers began diverting water from the Amu Darya to irrigate farms. “We would joke that Karakalpakstan was like Amsterdam because we had so many canals,” Dospanov recalls. That water would dry up with shocking speed; by the ’80s, all the fisheries had shut down. 

The shrinking lake left behind a wasteland crusted in toxic salt. Declining rainfall, rising temperatures, and storms that kick up dense dust clouds have rendered vast swaths of once-­arable land unusable. Most fish in Moynaq’s bazaar—centered around a fountain of golden carp leaping from a dried-up well—now come from farms.

In Nukus, I attended the Aral Culture Summit, organized by the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation. Architects, artists, and scientists discussed plans to reforest the sea bed with saxaul trees and replace rice and cotton with drought-resistant crops like licorice root and sesame. I met Islambek Arepbaev, a biologist at Karakalpak State University, who called the sea’s disappearance a devastating blow. “The Aral sturgeon,” extinct since the 1980s, “was a symbol of the Sea and its people,” he told me. “I miss it, even if I’ve never seen it.”

The next day, I drove to Moynaq with Makhmud Aytjanov, a translator and guide who, like so many from the erstwhile port, moved to Nukus years ago. Born in 1981, Aytjanov told me he “never saw the Sea” as we bumped along a salt-chewed highway into town. The loss is palpable, yet the town survives. Schoolchildren play around rusted hulls of fishing boats moored in the ­desert—quiet memorials to what’s been lost.

That afternoon, after feasting on Jumanyazov’s plov, gleaming with oil and piled high with carrots, Aytjanov took me to the home of Gawxar Abdikarimova, a researcher at the Regional History and Aral Sea Museum who was also born into a post-Sea world. She’s watched the town’s last remaining lake, where her husband still goes to fish, shrink. Yet as she cooked with choreographed efficiency, she said, “When there’s fish, I make fish plov.” Traditions form faster than ecosystems, but here, it seems, they’ll take longer to disappear.

Twenty minutes later, her plov was ready: a cushion of rice embroidered with sweet strands of carrot and onion, crowned with golden carp and a flurry of dill. Fragrant steam swirled through the slanting sunlight, redolent of a lost sea.

Recipe: Fish Plov

Get the recipe >

The post The Dish That Keeps the Spirit of the Aral Sea Alive appeared first on Saveur.

When I moved to Bangkok in 1999, the city was largely seen by travelers as a waypoint, a place where backpackers could crash for a night or two before heading to an island or up north. Fast-forward nearly three decades and Bangkok is the destination. For the last few years, it has claimed the title of one the most visited cities in the world, with many travelers opting to linger or even stay. Compared to the vast, smog-choked, chaotic city that greeted me in the late ’90s, today’s Bangkok has an expansive and efficient public transport system and world-class museums.

There was, of course, amazing food when I first arrived in Bangkok—noodle carts and curry stalls that provided the city with its signature scent of intermingled exhaust fumes, herbs, and spices. Thankfully, that hasn’t changed. But today, boasting a sizable middle class, Bangkok’s tastes have expanded in many directions. While street food gets all the press in the Western world, there are countless ways to eat in this sprawling metropolis of 10 million people. These days, at least among locals, air-conditioned malls have as much pull as street stalls, high-concept restaurants are jamming up TikTok feeds, and Michelin stars are an established part of the dining landscape.

Honestly, it’s all rather overwhelming. So to help, I’ve put together a list of eateries that bring things back to Bangkok’s culinary roots. Yes, there’s a Michelin star in there, but there’s also a time-tested noodle shack, a restaurant housed in a 19th-century home, and decades-old family-run joints. As someone who had lived in Bangkok for nearly a quarter century, these are the places that continue to provide the city with that distinct aroma I encountered all those years ago, as well as a few that are altering it in smart, informed, and delicious ways. 

Kuaytiaw Khua Kai Suan Mali

260 Soi Thewi Worayat 
+66 87 974 2828

In my mind, if there’s a single dish that exemplifies Bangkok, it’s kuaytiaw khua kai, wide rice noodles wok-fried with chicken, preserved squid, and egg. The ingredients and the way it’s cooked are Chinese in origin—hardly surprising, as an estimated 40 percent of Bangkok’s residents can claim Chinese ancestry—but the dish was likely invented in Bangkok and is a relative rarity outside of the city. This challenging-to-locate stall down a back alleyway specializes in kuaytiaw khua kai the old-school way: fried in lard over coals. The plastic stools, billowing wok smoke, and sweat pouring down your forehead are bucket-list Bangkok.

Aksorn

1266 Thanon Charoen Krung
+66 2 116 8662

Fine dining is having a moment in Bangkok. Despite its price point, Aksorn manages to feel homey, thanks to food served family-style in delicate, floral-themed crockery. Australian chef and cookbook author David Thompson dusted off old Thai cookbooks and unearthed recipes that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades. (Think Chinese ash gourd steamed with salted fish and pork; or a relish of cashews and santol, a sweet, pulpy fruit similar to mangosteen.) With dishes more subtle in flavor and heat than you’ll find most elsewhere in Bangkok, this restaurant is likely to make you question everything you thought you knew about Thai food. 

Amin Chicken & Mutton Biryani

Soi 46, Thanon Charoen Krung
+66 86 097 1467

Thai Muslims form an important part of Bangkok’s culinary landscape, in which biryani is just about as standard as a bowl of noodles. The eponymous owner behind this stall used to work at Muslim Restaurant, which was once one of the city’s oldest eateries. When that space closed in 2020, Amin simply took his recipes to a street corner a few blocks away. Order the mutton biryani (actually made with goat), which takes the form of a hillock of golden rice concealing tender meat, accompanied by a mild eggplant curry and a sweet, fragrant mint sauce. 

Khun Yah Cuisine

89/2 Thanon Tri Mit
+66 2 222 0912

Tucked away in the compound of a Buddhist temple, this is one of a dwindling number of Bangkok-style curry stalls that remain in the city. The format is straightforward: Curries, stir-fries, soups, and Thai-style dips that are made in advance and displayed in stainless steel bowls and trays. Your job is to point to the ones that look the tastiest—the pleasantly mild green curry with beef, perhaps, or maybe the fragrant, crispy patties of deep-fried pork—so the vendor knows what to ladle over a plate of rice before thrusting it your way. The only hitch is that you need to arrive before everything sells out, ideally before 11 a.m.—you’d be hard-pressed to find a better breakfast.

Ann Tha Din Daeng

167 Thanon Tha Din Daeng
+66 81 695 0597

Bangkokians adore seafood, which is typically served in hall-like restaurants with bright lights and brusque service. For something more intimate, cross the Chao Phraya River to Thonburi, where you’ll find this tiny, shophouse-based, woman-run gem of a restaurant. Just about everything on the brief menu is exceptional, but you’d be remiss not to order the knuckle-size lumps of crab wok-seared with garlic, long beans, makrut lime leaves, and mild peppers—a dish only found in Bangkok. 

Som Tam Jay So

Soi Phiphat 2
+66 85 999 4225

Bangkok experienced a population boom in the ’80s and ’90s as tens of thousands of rural northeasterners flocked to the city to work. Over the subsequent decades, stalls and restaurants specializing in Isan’s unabashedly spicy, often grilled dishes have become integral to the food scene. Jay So, a shack at the edge of Bangkok’s financial district, is typical of the genre. Obligatory here is som tam: a tart, spicy, and funky salad of green papaya strips bruised in a mortar with chiles, lime juice, and fish sauce. They also grill smoky chicken wings and an herbaceous catfish.

Toy Kuay Teow Ruea

Soi 18, Thanon Ratchawithi
+66 81 619 1925

The canal that runs north of Bangkok’s Victory Monument is lined with restaurants serving so-called “boat noodles”: a dark, intense, aromatic broth with your choice of pork or beef, parboiled greens, a tangle of rice noodles, and a dash of pork blood. Previously, this dish was served from tiny boats bobbing on the canals and rivers of Bangkok and Central Thailand.  Today, Toy and other semi-open-air stalls continue the tradition on dry land, serving fist-size bowls that cost as little as 15 baht ($0.48) each. Don’t miss the salty-sweet coconut cream dessert steamed in tiny ceramic dishes.

Khao Tom 100 Pi

547 Thanon Phlap Phla Chai
+66 2 223 9592

In many ways, Bangkok is a Chinese city, a fact that’s often reflected in its cuisine. One of the most beloved Chinese-style restaurants is khao tom kui, a semi-open-air kitchen that consists of a couple of wok burners and trays piled high with meat, seafood, and vegetables. Point to whatever looks good—some clams, maybe, or a bunch of Chinese kale—and a cook will fry it to order alongside a bowl of soupy rice. As its name indicates, the Chinatown restaurant has supposedly been around for a century, and the go-to order for generations of locals is the savory minced pork stir-fried with Chinese olives, or the spicy, tart dried fish salad.

Ban Wannakovit

64 Thanon Tanao
+66 81 922 6611

You may not get the chance to eat in a Thai home, but a meal at Ban Wannakovit is the next best thing. Not only does the restaurant occupy a graceful 19th-century Rattanakosin-style mansion, but it also grants access to disappearing Bangkok- and Central Thai-specific dishes. Think rice tossed with shrimp paste and garnished with green mango, thin strips of omelet, and pork braised in palm sugar. If it’s hot out (it most likely will be), order the thin rice noodles drizzled with coconut milk and topped with fish balls, dried shrimp, and slices of pineapple.

Hua Hin Photchana

29, 31 Thanon Ka Om
+66 2 282 7219

Going back as far as the 1920s, “cookshops” were where Bangkokians went to eat foreign cuisine. Dishes like braised beef tongue, pork chops, and beef salad were ostensibly inspired by British cuisine but prepared by Hainanese cooks. Today, cookshops are nearly extinct, but their cross-cultural DNA can be found at a handful of restaurants in the city. Decades-old Hua Hin Photchana serves braised beef tongue with more traditional Chinese dishes, including a crispy oyster omelet and pork liver flash-fried with garlic and pepper. 

Yen Ta Fo JC

Soi Phiphat 2
+66 97 263 5456

You can’t leave Bangkok without slurping down some noodles, and I’d argue that the city’s most beloved bowl is yen ta fo. It consists of rice noodles, crunchy greens, and a mix of pork, shrimp, and fish-based dumplings, all bobbing in a broth tinged red from fermented tofu. The dish exemplifies the slightly sweet, overtly South Chinese, seafood-loving palate of the city. Yen Ta Fo JC serves a terrific rendition. A word to the wise: Keep an eye out for the owner, who’s known for complicated seating and ordering rules that are only clear to him.

Samrub Samrub Thai

39/11 Soi Yommarat
+66 99 651 7292

I don’t entirely understand how chef Prin Polsuk manages to run a restaurant, as he appears to spend most of his time exploring Thailand’s countryside for ingredients and inspiration. The ever-changing menu at Samrub Samrub Thai reflects this relentless curiosity, and past themes have featured the sugary, meat-forward dishes of Thailand’s Muslim deep south, as well as the little-known cuisine of the communities living along the banks of the Mekong River. Unfolding in a small, intimate space, the meal is an experience in which Polsuk is less chef and more culinary tour guide, escorting diners on a journey through Thailand’s fascinating gastronomic landscape.

Chua Jiab Nguan

398 Thanon Tha Din Daeng
+66 2 437 2084

The Teochew people brought their skills for preparing goose and duck with them from South China to Bangkok. The menu here highlights the former—it’s braised in a fragrant five-spice powder and served with a mouth-puckering spicy-tart dipping sauce—as well as a brief list of homey Teochew-style dishes. It also doesn’t hurt that Chua Jiab Nguan offers a textbook Bangkok Chinese-Thai restaurant design experience: The interior space blurs the lines between commerce and home via ancient furnishings, domestic debris, and faded portraits of scowling ancestors. 

Haawm

290 Soi 25, Thanon On Nut
Reservations via Instagram

Chefs and food writers alike can’t stop singing the praises of Haawm, “a speakeasy with reservations,” in the words of one friend (even if “supper club” is the proper term). The lively, informal meals take place in chef Dylan Eitharong’s suburban Bangkok shophouse, where dishes like Pattani-style white curry with beef and pickled grilled green chiles draw on influences from every corner of Thailand, with a certain American playfulness informed by the chef’s background. This borderless approach is propelling Bangkok’s food scene to its next stop, wherever that may be.

The post 14 Must-Try Restaurants in Bangkok appeared first on Saveur.

This piece originally appeared in SAVEUR’s Fall/Winter 2025 issue. See more stories from Issue 205.

Suying Plaskett is in Vinh Phat, her sprawling South Sacramento grocery store, inspecting a spray of lilies bound for a local temple. It’s the Chinese goddess Guanyin’s birthday, and the shopkeeper has a sliver of time to talk before sprinting off to pay her respects. As we walk along, Plaskett, a straight-backed 77-year-old in hoop earrings and a denim jumpsuit, stops to softly pat the elbows of ­regulars pushing carts full of vegetables.

Half a dozen staffers work the meat counter alone, and even niche items such as mam tom (fermented shrimp paste) command multiple shelves. In my favorite corner, staff stack banh mi beside hanging roast pork belly and barbecued ducks, meaty stalactites leaking droplets of their golden fat. Vinh Phat is, in more ways than one, an oasis.

Plaskett arrived in the United States just as the Vietnam War was coming to an end. In 1974, she married a U.S. Air Force officer and became one of fewer than 15,000 Vietnamese nationals living in the country. A year later, Saigon fell. In the ensuing years, hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese refugees fled to the U.S.

In 1978, Plaskett received a letter: Her family, along with 350 refugees, were on a boat on the Thailand-Malaysia border, and they were running out of supplies. She hurried to Thailand to meet them. When Plaskett saw her father wasting away on a beach, his fingers and legs swollen from exposure to the elements, she wept bitterly. “I have never seen anything like that,” she recalls.

Through determination and a bit of luck, Plaskett managed to evacuate her family and some of their fellow passengers back to Sacramento, where she became their de facto social worker, confronting exploitative landlords, navigating legal dilemmas, and everything in between.

Soon small Vietnamese businesses started ­popping up in the neighborhood—banh mi shops, coffee houses, and wire transfer outposts—but there was no Asian grocery store. “I thought, ‘Open a market. Everybody will have a job!’ ” she says.

In Vinh Phat’s 40 years of business, the ­district has transformed from a neglected corridor to what’s now lovingly known as Little Saigon. The clientele has changed, too: The refugees’ descendants have embraced “that U.S.A. culture,” Plaskett says of the locals now wandering the aisles in designer clothes and UC Davis swag.

The new generation—Plaskett’s children and her cousin—will eventually take over the business, but the owner doubts she’ll ever really leave. “People still want to see me!” she says. “What am I going to do, stay home? Here I can stop by the cash register, keep an eye on ­everybody. I’m happy.”

The post Meet Sacramento’s Queen of Little Saigon appeared first on Saveur.

Before we pick up our forks, let’s invoke the ancestors: Southern culinary mentors like Martha Lou Gadsden, Louis Osteen, Robert Carter, Emily Meggett, and Joseph “Chef Joe” Glascoe Randall are the ones who taught us to never stir a pot of rice, and why it’s sacrilege to add sugar to cornbread or grits. Without their guidance, we wouldn’t be celebrating this kind of food today. And, building on their legacy, change has come to South Carolina’s Lowcountry, particularly on the greater Charleston peninsula, which my family has called home for a really long time.

“Look how much the hospitality community has grown,” says Alyssa Maute Smith, executive director of the Charleston Wine + Food Festival, now entering its 20th season. The annual event has not only showcased the evolving culinary community, but it has also helped it thrive through mentorships and financial support for inclusive programming over the years. This translates to more voices—and more flavors—being introduced. The city has also become a training ground for a new generation of talent in the kitchen, both born here and more recently arrived. Most importantly, though, is the full-throated acknowledgement of the region’s deepest culinary roots, for those first geniuses who brought techniques and tastes from their homelands, especially West African rice cultures, that are fundamental to the dishes being reimagined today.

For this, Maute Smith credits advocates like the late author Nathalie Dupree, a grand dame of Southern cooking, for spreading the word about the people who fire the stoves and pour the cocktails in her adopted hometown. The same can be said for many of the chefs who are now featured at the Festival—not all are household names, but they are core to Lowcountry foodways. “Charleston has a grassroots network that supports each other,” Maute Smith says. “We want the stories to feel authentic to this place. We see ourselves.”

To understand the significance of these culture bearers, it might help to know that I never used to have a problem picking where to eat out in Charleston—because I never ate out. My great-aunts, who I visited often, were amazing cooks, but that was also the culture of the time. Family members would return home from work for a hot midday meal, and if I escaped being wrestled into a starchy dress on Sunday, it was because the aunts sent me out to the dock as the tide shifted to catch crabs with a chicken neck and a net. Maute Smith, who was raised on James Island, remembers the same rituals. “We didn’t go out to eat either,” she says. “For me, this is the underpinning of why Charleston is a food destination, because everyone was so committed to the land, buying directly from family-owned purveyors or catching it ourselves. My dad taught me to harvest the local oysters and how to seine in the creek. When we got a batch of shrimp, we’d sit around the kitchen table and pop off the heads to freeze.”

Because of this long-standing attitude, the Lowcountry has no lack of exceptional chefs who support heritage produce and coastal fishermen. Even if you didn’t grow up being served classic Southern dishes, the Festival makes you feel welcome to the table with events that highlight both tradition and innovation. During a special anniversary dinner, where multiple courses reflect the transformation of the city’s dining map, chef Daniel ‘Dano’ Heinze of Vern’s gives love to squid, once considered lowly bycatch by the regional shrimping fleet. “This is something we had to seek out,” Heinze says. “We’re trying to evolve what can be done with food in this part of the country.” He pairs charcoal grilled squid with capered sea beans—a salty succulent foraged on the beaches—and wild redbay laurel leaves. “It has a crazy floral, herbal, tea-like flavor and is used to impart aroma to Carolina Gold rice, but we infuse it into oil at our restaurant.” Another menu item is a collaboration with Chubby Fish chef James London and chef Juan Cassalett of Malagón Mercado y Tapería, who have paired heirloom alubia blanca beans with locally sourced lamb for a Basque-inspired dish that spans multiple borders and crosses oceans. My Huguenot ancestors, early refugees from the neighboring Languedoc who landed in the Lowcountry during the 1660s, made my family staunch lamb eaters, too.

The Festival also spotlights a new generation of Gullah Geechee chefs championing their ancestral foodways—red rice, deviled crab, okra soup—while also introducing new variations on these dishes. This year, chef BJ Dennis is putting oysters in his perloo. He sources them directly from older Gullah men who still have their Lucy Creek leases off Lady’s Island in Beaufort County. “You don’t see these in restaurants,” he says. The only way to get them is to know someone, which taps into that informal network of friends and family who still take pride in harvesting or catching their own. Dennis pairs the oysters with rice middlins and a savory benne seed chutney inspired by Afro Mexican salsa macha. “I always say that Gullah Geechee is the queen mother of Lowcountry cuisine,” Dennis says. “Learning about my history and my roots goes beyond culture and race. This is my duty, my journey.” 

This year, Amethyst Ganaway brings fresh perspective to the nose-to-tail movement with her love of wild game and offal during her hands-on tutorial at the Culinary Institute of Charleston. And Johnny Caldwell of Cocktail Bandits puts the same heart and soul into her drinks, paying homage to her culture with every pour. “I want our cocktails to be welcoming, to acknowledge Charleston’s past but, while anchored in the old ways, represent change,” she says. Her Palmetto Passage is a fizzy nightcap of champagne, Aperol, sweet Italian vermouth, and hibiscus tea that highlights both European and Charleston punch traditions. “The hibiscus ties Charleston to our Caribbean connection and our love of tea in the South.”  

And which meal am I most looking forward to? It’s a no brainer: Nikko Cagalanan of Kultura is co-hosting a shared table dinner, preparing Lowcountry fusion dishes in the style of his Filipino kamayan, a communal feast served on banana leaves. No forks required, only fingers. That’s my kind of Sunday dinner.

The post Celebrating 20 Years of the Charleston Wine + Food Festival appeared first on Saveur.

This piece originally appeared in SAVEUR’s Fall/Winter 2025 issue. See more stories from Issue 205.

In Hong Kong Cantonese, you don’t say you’re hungry; you say, “My stomach is beating drums.” And after sunset, to follow the metaphor, that drumroll ushers in a late-night food scene unlike any other: curry fish ball skewers on the streets of Kowloon, beef brisket noodles in eclectic Sheung Wan, and hot milk tea from any stall that beckons.

Feasting after dark is in the city’s DNA. I learned quickly that my adoptive home of eight years wasn’t kind to morning people, as anyone who’s tried to buy a coffee before 9 a.m. can attest. Night is when the island lights up, literally and figuratively, with gaggles of trendsters, fanny pack-sporting grandmas, and party-hearty expats all pushing their way into noodle bars and cha chaan tengs (our local diner equivalent).

The hot, humid daylight hours are partly why we’re a city of night owls. When the neon signs turn on, Hong Kongers step out to their favorite restaurants and cafés, many of which look like set pieces from a Wong Kar-wai movie.

The heart of the action is in the Central District (plus nearby Sheung Wan, Sai Ying Pun, and Kennedy Town neighborhoods), home to a Michelin-starred Peking duck mecca, Japanese yakitori restaurants, Chinese clay pot rice haunts, and everything in between.

There is a downside to eating after sundown: waiting in line in the muggy heat. Before queuing up, consider grabbing an ice-cold beer (yes, public drinking is legal) or a cold-brew tea from the closest convenience store. Here, 7-Eleven is so ubiquitous that locals often step inside just for the air conditioning, making “Club 7-Eleven” one of the busiest hangouts around.

Wherever you wind up, one thing’s certain: The thrum of this city of nightcrawlers will make your heart—and your stomach’s drums—beat faster.

Ho Lee Fook

3–5 Elgin Street
+852 2810 0860

Dim sum is usually daytime food, but this cheeky restaurant (whose punny name means “good mouth taste” in Canto) serves bites into the wee hours, from pandan cakes resembling mahjong tiles to “Tetris-style” pineapple and mango slices to purple corn dumplings. As you hum along to the alt ’90s playlist (think Björk and Pulp), sip a Lucky Buck ­cocktail—scotch, yuzu, honey, ginger beer—from a gold lucky cat.

Tsui Wah

Multiple locations

After a night out on the lash, I love the quick, no-frills service of this beloved fast food chain—the less that stands between me and my springy fish ball soup, the better. The hot broth feels extra nourishing with a sidekick of lai cha, a Hong Kong staple of black tea with evaporated milk, which dates back to World War II.

Kwan Kee Bamboo Noodle

1 Wing Lung Street
+852 3484 9126

Wolfing down a bowl of hot, brothy ­noodles with sweat dripping down the back of your neck is a local rite of passage. At this minimalist Central District café, spring for the anise-y beef noodle soup bobbing with chunks of turnip cake, and be prepared to share a table with ­strangers (an essential part of the experience).

Ser Wong Fun

30 Cochrane Street
+852 3579 5954

Every year is the Year of the Snake for many Hong Kongers, who’ve been eating the reptile for centuries. Try it here, deep-fried in snackable balls or shredded in a tangerine-infused soup called ser geng. To wash those down, a shot of snake “wine”: a sharp, fiery homemade hooch infused with the slithery creatures.

Yardbird

Winsome House, 154–158 Wing Lok Street
+852 2547 9273

Breast isn’t always best, as this casual Sheung Wan fried chicken spot goes to show: Neck, gizzard, and skin make for phenomenally flavorful bites bursting with salt, smoke, and acidity. Nab a table, or join the crowd at the bar juggling skewers in one hand and a highball in the other. The housemade sesame ice cream, sandwiched between sesame cookies, makes a perfect cooling finale.

Bakehouse

14 Tai Wong Street E

Egg tarts arrived in Hong Kong in the 17th century via Macau, where Portuguese sailors introduced custardy pastéis de nata even earlier. The local version is denser than its European ancestor; try it at this tile-floored bakery, a ­standout for its buttery sourdough pastry.

Lee Kung Kee North Point

492 King’s Road
+852 2590 9726

Bubble waffles are simultaneously fluffy and crisp thanks to their namesake air pockets. It’s always mesmerizing to watch, bleary-eyed, as cooks here fold matcha, chocolate chips, or Ovaltine into the batter, then furl the soft-cooked waffle into a cone for easy street eating. Come summer, these extra-eggy waffles are vessels for ice cream, sopping up all the melty sweetness.

Sun Hing

8 Smithfield Road
+852 2816 0616

This cha chaan teng opens at 3:00 a.m. and caters primarily to Hong Kong’s many overnight workers. Michelin-starred chefs, street cleaners, and truck drivers all rub elbows at crammed plastic tables while chowing down on rib-sticking dishes such as barbecue pork buns, duck feet congee, fried taro, and lotus-wrapped glutinous rice.

Sheung Hei

25 North Street
+852 2819 6190

Don’t bother queuing at this local favorite—head straight to the back and plop down at a communal table. From there, watch the chefs tend to clay pots filled with rice and meats (usually eel or Chinese sausage), which get crispy on the bottom. When your own cauldron arrives, stir its contents together, scraping the smoky, crackly rice into the flavorful roasted meats.

Under Bridge Spicy Crab

391 Lockhart Road
+852 2893 1289

The hot tip is in the name: Crab is the must-order item here. There’s still a lively mud crab industry in Hong Kong, and fishermen catch and deliver the creatures daily to restaurants like this one. After ordering their crustaceans by weight, diners receive them “typhoon shelter-style”—that is, served whole, quick-cooked over open flame, and ­seasoned with salt, garlic, chiles, and chives.

The post Where to Eat on a Night Out in Hong Kong appeared first on Saveur.

Anything you’ve heard about Portland, Maine’s dining scene, you’ve probably heard within the last seven or eight or years. In 2018, Bon Appetit named it the “Restaurant City of the Year,” and the response was explosive. I was working as a local magazine editor then, and I saw the shift happen in real time. Tourists flooded in, and the community responded by opening more doors to more restaurants, coffee shops, and bars. Portland quickly found itself topping charts of U.S. cities with the most restaurants and breweries per capita, and today it still seems as if something new is opening every month. 

You could throw a stone in any direction and hit at least three amazing eateries. In 2024, two bakeries located just a 10-minute drive away from each other won James Beard Awards (Norimoto Bakery for Outstanding Pastry Chef, and ZUbakery for Outstanding Bakery—more on ZU in a bit). Many of Portland’s  restaurants have been celebrated far and wide, but this list highlights some lesser-known locales that have stood the tests of trends and time for a truly native taste of the city. 

I would be lying if I said Portland wasn’t having a bit of an identity crisis. I’ve lived on the outskirts of the city for most of my life and have seen it in every iteration over the past three decades. The city’s working waterfront has been at its heart since its founding, but its limits are being stretched by those competing for new luxury housing and corporate development. Portland is special, and it’s changing. As you visit this tiny city of 70,000, please remember to shop local and support the working waterfront as much as you can. (In December, one of Portland’s wharves suffered a devastating fire. Please consider donating to the recovery effort.) Below, you’ll find everything from stellar Sichuan cuisine and seafood staples to hot-pink hot dogs and a micro-bakery worth standing in line for. Wherever you land, Portland’s small-town charm shines through.

The Honey Paw

78 Middle Street
(207) 774-8538

Situated on the edge of the Old Port, The Honey Paw is easy to miss while shopping downtown, but trust me, this spot is worth the detour. Brought to you by the team behind Eventide Oyster Co., The Honey Paw’s modern, minimalist interior is anchored by a large central dining table that invites a chance to chat with your neighbors. If you prefer to people-watch, window seating is ample, too. The menu nods to Thai, Japanese, Chinese, and Indonesian cuisines. Those in the know know to order the smoked lamb khao soi and fried bread with a rotating compound butter (you won’t want to share the bread, btw). Other favorites include the napa cabbage salad with chili crisp ranch, kimchi-loaded pork katsu sandwich, fried wings with smoked butter and makrut lime leaf, and seasonally rotating pickle plate. To finish your meal, the honey soft serve—with a hard chocolate shell and sizable chunks of honeycomb—is a must.

Twelve

115 Thames Street
(207) 910-7400

Twelve opened in 2022 and was an instant favorite. The menu is elevated and constantly shifting with the seasons to highlight Maine ingredients at their peak. Chef and founder Colin Wyatt, formerly of New York City’s Daniel and Eleven Madison Park, returned to Maine after 12 years to bring his vision to life—one that celebrates the state’s culture as well as the passions of local farmers and artists. Leading the kitchen is executive chef Hannah Ryder, who cut her teeth in N.Y.C. at Café Boulud and Aquavit. Offerings at Twelve go beyond a simple dinner menu and include thoughtful wine pairings and private chef-led experiences. Reservations are highly recommended.  

Wayside Tavern

747 Congress Street
(207) 613-9568

Snugly tucked inside a historic hotel in Portland’s West End, Wayside Tavern quickly solidified itself as a regular haunt among visitors and locals alike. The interior is chic and moody yet warm and inviting. The menu is playful and comforting—think crispy beer-battered cod cheek with gribiche, cabbage salad with bacon and spring onion, roasted chicken with ricotta toast, tonnarelli with guanciale and pecorino—and word on the street is that locals crowned the smash burger best in all of Portland. (It has my vote.) If you’re looking for a cozy night that still feels luxurious, this is it. 

Taj

333 Clarks Pond Parkway, Suite 6, South Portland
(207) 828-6677

Have you ever eaten somewhere so good that any time someone mentions the restaurant afterward, you have a visceral reaction? That’s Taj. It might be safe to say that Taj is everyone’s favorite restaurant—the food has an unmatched depth of flavor offered in a range of classic and modern Indian dishes. Opened in South Portland in 2012 by Saithe Guntaka, the restaurant is a family operation to its core—his mother, Hemalatha Reddy Guntaka, helms the kitchen. Her khorma paneer and garlic naan are my go-to every time, but you really can’t order wrong here. There’s another reason to love Taj, too. In 2020, the Guntaka’s started donating holiday meals to those in need. A few hundred meals at Thanksgiving and Christmas has since grown to thousands; in 2025, Taj served around 10,000 meals between the two holidays, including deliveries to those who didn’t have transportation. In order to better serve its community, Taj recently expanded to a larger space, tripling in size. 

Ribollita

41 Middle Street
(207) 774-2972

Ribollita is a Portland mainstay that’s been gracing the East End since 1996. Middle Street may have changed a bit since, but chef-owner Kevin Quiet’s cooking has remained a welcome constant. The tiny Italian joint feels a little bit like you’re about to have dinner at your nonna’s house, complete with fresh-made pasta—the simple fettuccine alfredo is strikingly delicious, and the roast chicken puttanesca with pappardelle is cooked to perfection—and seafood staples like cacciucco (Tuscan fish stew), steamed mussels with pistachio butter, and polenta-crusted calamari. Whenever someone asks for Italian spots to try, this is my go-to suggestion; it’s as close as you can get to a comforting meal at home without lifting a finger. 

Sichuan Kitchen

612 Congress Street
(207) 536-7226

Sichuan Kitchen is perhaps Portland’s biggest hidden gem. When I was lucky enough to work in an office close by, I was a weekly visitor. Favorites from the má là-heavy menu include zhong dumplings in an aromatic chile sauce, yuxiang eggplant with pickled chiles and minced pork, chewy tian shui noodles, tangy daikon salad, and marinated cucumbers. Chengdu-native Qi Shen has been running the eatery alongside her parents and aunt since 2017. While the storefront is minimal, save for a bright red front door, what waits inside is exceptional. Plus, it’s steps from the Portland Museum of Art, so why not make an afternoon of it? 

The Thirsty Pig

37 Exchange Street
(207) 773-2469

This hot dog-lover’s haven in the heart of the city has tons to offer: housemade links (pork or chicken), shaved steak, pulled pork, plant-based dogs, and, yes, Maine’s famous fire engine-hued “red snapper” dogs, too. With 15 different ways to style your sausage, all served on fluffy brioche buns, the combos are endless. While The Thirsty Pig is great any time of year (they are constantly hosting musicians—its stage is dubbed Portland’s busiest for a reason!), it’s during the warmer months that it really shines. Pair your dog with a local pint and hit the patio out back for the ultimate spring kickoff. 

Scales

68 Commercial Street
(207) 805-0444

If you’re planning to visit Portland, you’re probably also planning to eat seafood. While locals may swear by roadside lobster shacks, there’s nothing wrong with splurging on the best seafood in town. The heart and soul of the Old Port is its working waterfront, and Scales—from the same team behind Fore Street and Street & Co.—is smack-dab in the center of it all. Situated down a wharf, with lobstermen docking with the day’s catch right outside your window, this posh eatery is the right way to treat yourself to Maine’s ocean bounty. Start with the clam chowder or salt cod croquettes before tucking into a steamed lobster. And be sure to order a side of molasses-sweetened brown bread for a full taste of Maine. 

Sissle & Daughters

107 Washington Avenue, #1
(207) 400-5344

Walking into Sissle & Daughters, you might think it’s just a cheese shop, but this place packs a punch. Not only will you find the shelves stocked with local and imported artisan charcuterie, wine, beer, pastas, oils, preserves, and more, but you’ll also find a delightful sandwich menu. It’s hard to choose between The Parisian, with jambon de Paris, Comté, local greens, and homemade dijonnaise; or the Jamwich, with whipped chèvre, local greens, rotating jam, and toasted sesame seeds (plus ham if you’d like). If I hit it right, I’ll snag a slice of burnt Basque cheesecake, too. Don’t forget to grab a local wedge or wheel and a baguette baked a few blocks over for a late-night snack! 

Boda 

671 Congress Street
(207) 347-7557

When Boda first hit the scene in 2010, there was huge buzz over a dish of sizzling quail eggs, served with soy and scallions in a cast iron kanom krok pan. Other favorites from the Thai street food-style menu include double-fried Brussels sprouts, spicy Thai wings, pork belly skewers, drunken noodles, and crisp-skinned Yaowarat duck, named for the main thoroughfare in Bangkok’s Chinatown. Belly up to the bar or settle into a table with friends to see why Portlanders’ love affair with Boda (and its quail eggs) is still going strong 16 years later. 

ZUbakery

81 Clark Street
(207) 409-0117

Sat squarely in the West End, this micro-boulangerie is making big waves—ZUbakery received the James Beard Award for Outstanding Bakery in 2024. Owner Barak Olins first opened ZU in 2000 but moved to its current location in 2022. Walk by on any morning and you’re bound to find a line snaking down the sidewalk (there’s room for about two people total inside). But lucky for everyone, the bakery schedule is posted on its website, so you can check it out online before going to stand in line. Set your sights on the daily croissants, scones, or monkey bread served up first thing, or linger a little for fresh-baked focaccia, pulled fresh from the oven at 10:45 a.m.

The post A Local’s Guide to the Best Restaurants in Portland, Maine appeared first on Saveur.

Rain battered the streets of Paris as I biked from my apartment in the 9th arrondissement to the 11th to chase the restaurant that had taken over my Instagram feed: technicolor dishes, like achcharu—Sri Lankan spiced, pickled produce—made with juicy cherries and white peaches and seasoned with chiles and cracked black pepper; and turmeric ice cream the color of a farm-fresh egg yolk sprinkled with lime-green masala. It all looked worlds away from the beige meats and heavy sauces of old-school French cooking—and unlike anything I’d seen while covering Paris’ food scene in the past seven years. I had to taste those dishes for myself. 

At La Joie, a compact 11-table Sri Lankan spot inside a former butcher shop, my mouth watered as chef and co-owner Minod Dilakshan prepared his signature dish: a crispy, paper-thin hopper cradling an egg, topped with caramelized onions and toasted coconut sambol that crackled with texture. By the open kitchen, a smooth wood counter gleamed with bottles of natural wine waiting to be poured.

La Joie nails the zeitgeist of a certain Parisian diner—the kind who scrolls Le Fooding and sidesteps Instagram traps. More and more, this crowd is seeking out restaurants that offer cuisines beyond traditional French cooking in places designed for lingering. Paris has always been multicultural—especially neighborhoods like Belleville, with institutions like Lao Siam and Dong Huong—but today the range feels wider and more exciting than ever.Like many chefs in Paris, Dilakshan first made a name for himself with French fare, turning out seasonal neo-bistro plates and pizzettes at Café du Coin before weaving in flavors from his native Sri Lanka. Others hone their craft abroad and bring it back to the city—like Julien Catelain and Matthieu Haddak, the Parisian duo behind Mehmet in the 18th, where the glistening, twirling chicken döner is Turkish at heart.

Before COVID-19, neo-bistros tyrannized the scene with their raw wood tables, industrial pendant bulbs, and indigo-aproned servers. The pandemic wiped out some independents, and chefs like Erica Paredes and Carlos Moreno found new audiences for their cooking, launching ghost kitchens that sent their flavors across the city. 

When the world reopened, the city felt less reverent. People wanted bolder, spicier food. Soon after, Paredes and Moreno debuted brick-and-mortar spots—Reyna, a French-leaning Filipino restaurant in the 11th, and Comer, a Mexican cantina in the 10th. In post-pandemic Paris, chefs could color outside the lines, adding global influences to bistro staples or forgoing the French canon entirely in favor of other cuisines.

For example, Paredes quickly won diners over with her riff on bistek, the Filipino dish of thinly sliced beef braised in soy sauce. “It’s basically a steak au poivre with calamansi pepper sauce,” she says. “Filipinos think it’s fancy bistek, but the French think it’s steak au poivre with a little something.”

The past few years have seen a flurry of international restaurants launching across Paris. Take a look at some of the most exciting openings, plus some destination-worthy institutions, below.

For Filipino Kinilaw and Hainan Burrata: Reyna

41 Rue de Montreuil
+33 01 40 09 06 82

At Reyna, you go to take on the signature spicy chicken wings, which come in three levels of heat, the hottest made with mango, habanero, and bird’s-eye chiles. Stay and try all of Paredes’ genre-bending creations, like the Hainan burrata topped with ginger and fiery chili crisp, or the Filipino Mexican kinilaw-aguachile hybrid with cherry-hibiscus sauce, trout roe, and nori chips. The vibe is laid-back, and the staff are friendly, attentive, and always ready with a thoughtful natural wine pairing.

For Chinese-Inspired Tasting Menus: Le Cheval d’Or

21 Rue de la Villette
+33 07 45 11 16 47

Revived by new ownership in 2023, this legendary Chinese-inflected bistro in upper Belleville has become one of Paris’ hippest spots, with six-course menus starting around $90. The team hails from across the globe, including Filipino Australian head chef and co-owner Hanz Gueco, but Cantonese influence still appears in dishes like the shrimp toast-inspired croque madame piled with cilantro and dill; and barbajuans, the typical niçois pastries, filled with corn, shiitake, and scallions, and served with a sweet-and-sour sauce. If you’re down to splurge, I highly recommend the rösti de nouilles add-on—a crispy noodle pancake topped with crème fraîche, chives, and caviar. 

Outside, the façade remains untouched since the restaurant’s opening in 1987. Inside, warm, dim lighting flatters everyone, while the open kitchen offers a quiet ballet in the backdrop. Co-owned by Crislaine Medina, who was once a sommelier at Les Pipos and Le Rigmarole, Le Cheval d’Or is also known for its compelling wine list, with plenty of options for vin nature purists.

For a Wine Bar-Meets-Taquería: Furia

2 Rue Lacharrière

Opened in 2023, Furia is always packed and operates sans reservations. I have no shame in resorting to American habits, arriving at 6:00 p.m. for dinner before the inevitable line forms outside.

With daily specials scrawled on a chalkboard, each taco is a thoughtful combination of umami, creamy, herby, spicy, or crunchy notes. “Our goal is to change the menu according to the season,” says co-owner Julio Guerrero. He cites some of the rotating specialties, like oyster mushrooms al pastor in the fall, oven-roasted carrots with salsa macha in the spring, and butternut squash tacos and raclette cheese quesadillas in the winter. 

Recent favorites include a blue corn tostada topped with tuna tartare and bright pops of salmon roe, and panko-crusted chicken layered with ripe avocado and pickled red onions. To drink, there’s Pacífico by the bottle, along with natty wines and mezcal by producers like Almamezcalera, Mezcal Lalocura, and Neta. “We like to use mezcal salvaje,” or wild mezcal, says Guerrero, who prefers the complexity that comes from uncultivated agaves like bicuixe, madrecuixe, and tepeztate. 

For Sri Lankan Hoppers and Coconut Curries: La Joie

117 Rue du Chemin Vert
+33 01 80 87 17 19

At La Joie, both decor and cuisine combine Sri Lankan elements with French sensibility. The exterior is mostly untouched, with “boucherie” (butcher shop) written in bright gold lettering. Inside, Sri Lankan masks and coconut husk dolls in traditional frocks pop against the mosaic floors and ceramic tiled walls.

Chef and co-owner Minod Dilakshan says his partner, Florent Ciccoli, the bistronomy whisperer behind favorites like Café du Coin, suggested reimagining classic Sri Lankan dishes with seasonal French produce—knowing full well their target clientele swoons for ramps. Seeing as La Joie is one of the hottest reservations in Paris right now, it’s working. 

Decidedly French, the menu is organized in three courses. A recent hit was the striped mullet fish with toasted butternut squash and kiri hodi, a fragrant Sri Lankan coconut milk gravy made with fenugreek, cinnamon, and turmeric.

For Cameroonian-Spiced Oeufs Mayo: Touki Bouki

68 Rue Julien Lacroix
+33 06 16 74 33 84

Just off Parc de Belleville, Touki Bouki combines West African and French influences. Dishes like sesame-crusted rock octopus with harissa and black-eyed peas, and charcoal-hued oeufs mayo with bongo spices (inspired by the Cameroonian mbongo spice blend, which is smoky from roasted alligator pepper) showcase the kitchen’s mashup cooking. Housemade bissap, a sweet-tart West African drink made from dried hibiscus flowers, flows alongside cocktails like the Afro Martini, a mix of rum and espresso with a touch of peanut butter. 

Every other month, Touki Bouki invites guest chefs from around the globe to bring their own twists to the menu, keeping the offerings fresh. Recently, chef Malik Bouzid (formerly of L’Orillon and Gramme) cooked an Algerian-inspired menu with dishes like lamb shoulder bourek—shredded lamb rolled inside lightly fried, paper-thin pastry sheets, served with labneh and rose harissa; and crispy sardines with smoked cod cream, broccolini, and roasted hazelnuts. 

For Soulful Beef Pho: Loan

25 Boulevard de la Villette
+33 06 52 88 09 61

In the heart of Belleville, Loan is the Vietnamese spot locals would rather keep to themselves. The owners don’t bother with much marketing or publicity; they prefer to focus on their regulars and on perfecting the broth for their pho. 

Yannick Hg, whose family took over the restaurant in 2017, explains their approach of offering just a handful of incredibly well-executed menu items. “Pho is very difficult to make every day and taste the same,” he says. That’s why his father works closely with the restaurant’s chef, Loan—who hails from Vietnam’s An Giang province and whose name the restaurant carries—to ensure the daily broth is consistently balanced.

The specialties are the classic beef pho and the pho saté—a French Vietnamese creation and my personal go-to—where the broth is enriched with a rich, peanutty, generously spiced saté sauce. Their other signature is the ragoût de boeuf, which is chef Loan’s grandmother’s recipe. It resembles a tomato-based boeuf bourguignon but with beef tendon, which adds texture and richness. 

For a Touch of Savannah by the Seine: L’Arrêt by The Grey

36 Rue de l’Université
+33 09 84 00 09 08

At L’Arrêt by The Grey, on Paris’ Left Bank, the philosophy mirrors that of its American sister restaurant in Savannah, Georgia: “We cook what we like to eat, with a focus on Black American foodways,” says James Beard Award-winning chef Mashama Bailey. With business partner Johno Morisano, Bailey continues a long tradition of Black Americans seeking creative freedom in Paris through art, literature, dance—and now, food.

Bailey has carried the spirit and flavors of her Savannah restaurant, The Grey, across the Atlantic, infusing them into this charming neighborhood bistro. The space blends Southern warmth with Parisian elegance—leather banquettes, vintage bronze chandeliers, and crown moldings framing a béton brut (raw concrete) wall. French diners will find novelty in the bold flavors of the American South, while U.S. visitors will be comforted by familiar dishes like creamy mac and cheese with aged Comté, or moist cornbread with honey chile butter. 

There’s also a nod to the origins of American fine dining. “James Hemings, Thomas Jefferson’s chef, was the first Black chef to travel to Paris, train in French kitchens, and bring those techniques back to the United States,” Bailey explains. “He laid the foundation for American haute cuisine.”

A recent meal ended on a bright note: a citrusy chess pie topped with a tuft of lavender-tinged lemon cream—well worth my trip across the Seine.

For Lebanese Meze and Kebabs: Qasti Shawarma & Grill

214 Rue Saint-Martin
+33 01 45 30 31 63

Come lunchtime, don’t be surprised to find a line snaking outside Qasti Shawarma & Grill. The Beaubourg neighborhood has no shortage of casual Lebanese spots, but the takeaway crowd shows up here in droves for house specialties like the beef shawarma sandwich, its spit-roasted meat packed with flavor; the juicy chicken taouk; and the spicy kefta, made with ground lamb and beef. Qasti is part of Liberia-born, Lebanon-raised chef Alan Geaam’s small empire of Lebanese restaurants in Paris, which also includes his Michelin-starred eponymous restaurant.Order a sandwich to go, then sit along the Stravinsky Fountain and marvel at the primary colors of the Centre Pompidou. Or linger over shawarma, burgers (crispy taouk or smash kefta), and meze like silky hummus and well-spiced batata harra (fried potatoes with red peppers, chiles, and garlic). For dessert, there’s housemade knafeh, a stretchy cheese pastry soaked in sweet syrup; and ashta ice cream from cult-favorite Lebanese ice cream shop Bachir.

For West African Mafé: Waly-Fay

6 Rue Godefroy Cavaignac
+33 01 40 24 17 79

Stepping inside Waly-Fay, with its industrial pendant lights, exposed brick, and subway-tile walls, I couldn’t help but feel a vibe more Brooklyn than Paris. But the soul of the open kitchen—led by Cameroonian chef Jeannie Tientcheu and Senegalese chef Dalla Sankare—is decidedly West African.

Opened in the early 2000s, Waly-Fay was a pioneer among West African bistro-style restaurants in Paris and has since become a reference point in the 11th. During a recent lunch, I ordered a fèroce d’avocat—literally “fierce avocado”—which turned out to be a surprisingly gentle mix of ripe avocado, lime, and garlic with a touch of briny salt cod and fiery chile. I also couldn’t resist the vegetable mafé, a flavor-packed peanut stew served with seasoned broken rice that was just the right amount of glutinously sticky. My friend was equally pleased with her braised chicken, dressed in the lightest herb sauce and served with plantains that were perfectly tender inside and caramelized outside.

For Tried-and-True Thai Curries: Lao Siam

49 Rue de Belleville
+33 01 40 40 09 68

On the main drag of Belleville, Lao Siam draws off-duty chefs and industry insiders, who queue for Thai and Laotian staples like glossy ribbons of pad see ew or whole pineapples stuffed with sausage fried rice. In a city as dynamic as Paris, its unchanging menu is part of the appeal—along with the big, lively space where kids can be kids and adults can discreetly nurse their hangovers with steaming bowls of tom yum. Family-run since 1985, the restaurant recently spawned an offshoot next door, Ama Siam, where the next generation spreads its wings, changing up the menu with dishes like khao soi with a homemade coconut curry broth, wheat noodles, and pickled mustard greens.

For Chicken Döner Worth Lingering Over: Mehmet

43 Rue Ramey

As college roommates in Grenoble, Julien Catelain and Matthieu Haddak discovered a shared passion for late-night kebabs. In 2022, the two Parisians traveled to Turkey to immerse themselves in local recipes and techniques, aiming to open a restaurant serving their favorite street food. There, they not only learned the secrets to ultra-juicy chicken döner, but also a different way to enjoy it—seated at a table, with drinks, friends, and family. That’s the concept behind Mehmet, which opened in 2023. 

Mehmet, a common surname in Turkey, has no particular connection to the duo. The menu sticks to the classics: chicken döner, housemade mezes, their locally loved fries (which, according to Catelain, are double-fried in vegetable oil, not beef fat), and lavash baked daily in-house. To curb their carbon footprint, they work exclusively with local ingredients, including Label Rouge free-range Normandy chicken.

Their pop-up collaborations with cool-kid restaurants like Tarántula and Le Cadoret are hugely popular with Parisians—check their Instagram to see the latest kitchen takeover.

The post 11 Must-Try Paris Restaurants That Go Beyond the French Classics appeared first on Saveur.

A new crop of airport lounges is putting food at the forefront. Around the world, first and business class lounges are trading tired buffets and plastic-wrapped sandwiches for freshly shucked oysters, celebrity chef-crafted tasting menus, and cocktails that are anything but boring. Forget food on the go—next time you have a layover at one of these airports, be sure to bring your appetite.

Cathay Pacific – The Pier Business Class Lounge at Hong Kong International Airport

The thrash of travel makes one crave the comforts of home—and this modern, spacious lounge meets that moment with wall-to-wall wood paneling, deep lounge chairs, cushy upholstered sofas, and plants everywhere. Areas are separated by wood screens that let in natural light, which makes the textbook-perfect renditions of wonton soup (with all the pickled sides), steamed pork baos, and dim sum baskets pop in photos. For a quieter, more intimate environment, there’s the Teahouse, with its green tile walls lined with black canisters of top-quality loose leaf teas. —Kate Berry

Korean Air Prestige Class Lounge at Incheon International Airport, South Korea

Following its recent merger with Asiana Airlines, Korean Air is in the midst of a major lounge expansion through 2026. If the first fully redesigned business class lounge, which opened in August 2025, is any indication, the food is clearly not an afterthought. I would make a beeline to the newly introduced live cooking stations, where chefs make Korean specialties to order using local ingredients, from hearty kimbap (seaweed rice rolls) to restorative janchi guksu (banquet noodles) and tteokguk (rice cake soup)—there’s nothing like a soothing broth to set you right when you’re traveling. Luxury hotel vibes meet thoughtful design touches throughout the space, like a nod to hanoks, traditional Korean wooden houses, and a separate wellness area with nap-ready massage chairs. —Frances Kim

Air France Lounge at Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport

The glitz of Air France’s newest CDG business class lounge has been aglitter since 2018—and a stranded Season 6 Emily Cooper (of Emily in Paris) stood agog there amid the copious self-serve buckets of champagne, VR headsets, saunas, and gratis Clarins spa treatments. Add all that to the brand’s latest dining and bar menus—curated by Ducasse Paris and Hotel Lancaster—and you’ll be delighted, too —Kat Craddock

Capital One Lounge at John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York 

Capital One has been quietly redefining what an airport lounge can be, with each new space channeling the character of its home city. The largest of the bunch is this slick new JFK lounge, a full-blown love letter to New York, complete with a Central Park-inspired dining area and a “bodega” slinging hand-rolled Ess-a-Bagel sandwiches (my neighborhood spot!). There’s La Colombe coffee on tap, and Death & Co., TALEA Beer Co., and local ceramics from Franca on the bar. The crown jewel, though, is a cheese bar staffed by an honest-to-goodness Murray’s-trained cheesemonger. Free for premium cardholders, this lounge is mercifully open to anyone else willing to pay, with entry fees ranging from $45 to $90 per person. —Kat Craddock

Capital One Landing at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Arlington, Virginia

Bucking cafeteria-style buffets, Capital One paired up with chefs José Andrés and Patricia Blanco to reimagine airport lounge dining. This Washington, D.C., lounge, opened in late 2024, is free for top-tier Capital One cardholders (and $90 for regular travelers). Inside, travelers are treated to serene service and Andrés’ tapas-driven cuisine. On-tap sangria, a gin and tonic cart, and NA cocktails are bar standouts, while dining room highlights include crisp pan con tomate, sliced-to-order jamón ibérico, tableside caviar service (no joke), and wedges of deeply browned Basque cheesecake.  —Kat Craddock

Capital One Lounge at Harry Reid International Airport, Las Vegas

With its earthy tones, relaxation pods with twinkling “constellation” lights, and custom Red Rock Canyon-inspired ceramics, this new Nevada lounge was a welcome oasis of calm on my last trip back from a jam-packed conference on the Strip. The bar menu features both boozy and NA options from local favorite Herbs and Rye, all available with optional wellness shots to help guests “hydrate,” “relax,” or “energize.” The menu skews wholesome and Mediterranean—think braised short ribs with ratatouille, falafel hummus bowls, and marinara pasta with turkey meatballs—all individually plated, with nary a buffet trough in sight. (If you’re very lucky, you might even catch a round of caviar service). “Daily Rituals” like Italian-style shakeratos, afternoon tea service with macarons from Suzuya Patisserie, and a sunset champagne toast bring a little ceremony to the day. —Kat Craddock

TAP Air Portugal Premium Lounge Atlântico at Humberto Delgado Airport, Lisbon

Compared to TAP’s Michelin-star studded in-flight dining program, its no-frills Lisbon lounges are understated. But the smaller, less crowded lounge based in the non-Shengen area is a welcome reprieve for sweets lovers connecting or taking advantage of the airline’s popular stopover program. A bounty of fresh fruit might include the Algarve’s legendary citrus and honey-sweet pineapple from the Azores, while an impressive spread of traditional pastries and puddings—including pastel de nata, bolo de laranja, and baba de caramelo—add a glimmer of sunshine for morning meal connoisseurs jaded by rubbery airport eggs.—Kat Craddock

Delta One Lounge at Los Angeles International Airport

Instead of the usual buffet, there’s dedicated table service and multicourse dining at this newcomer, which opened in fall 2024. Whether you opt for a tasting menu or go à la carte with steak frites, made-to-order sushi, or street corn pizza, you shouldn’t skip inventive signature drinks such as an “antipasto martini” garnished with a charcuterie skewer. The feast is for your eyes, too, with décor curated by Missoni, extravagant light fixtures, and a botanically abundant terrace. Post-nosh, grab some shut-eye in a nap pod or zero-gravity massage chair—just don’t miss your flight! —Alyse Whitney

Delta One Lounge at John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York

I had the privilege of passing through JFK’s Delta One Lounge just before Thanksgiving and was treated to a feast that felt like home: juicy turkey, sage-scented stuffing, all the fixings, and enough pie and champagne to send me into a soporific daze. On my return, I settled in for a three-course meal at Brasserie—hand-chopped steak tartare; a zesty Little Gem lettuce salad; and featherlight diver scallops with those irresistibly crackly edges. Next time, I hope to carve out a little zen in one of the marble-clad shower suites. —Benjamin Kemper

Turkish Airlines International Lounge at Istanbul Airport, Turkey

Get a crash course in Turkish cuisine at this soaring airport Eden with live-action stations serving everything from braised vegetables to freshly baked simit to bowls of thumbnail-size manti dolloped with yogurt and spicy tomato sauce. Those delicate meat-filled pockets are made around the clock by a designated dumpling chef, whose dextrous crimping is as good entertainment as the golf simulator down the hall (give it a whirl after a couple glasses of bubbly). After getting your fix of savory, swan over to the dimly lit tea room for baklava, cakes, cookies, and a range of looseleaf brews poured straight from the samovar. —Benjamin Kemper 

British Airways Concorde Room at London Heathrow Airport

I love a good full English breakfast, and British Airways’ Heathrow lounges deliver that—and more. Across the board, they offer a reliably solid experience with clean, comfortable spaces and excellent food and beverage options. The Concorde Room is the standout; if you have access, it’s where luxury truly shows up. But the standard lounges give you a taste of English hospitality, too, even if you’re just passing through.  —Thomas Payne

LATAM VIP Lounge at Arturo Merino Benítez International Airport, Santiago, Chile 

South America’s largest lounge feels like the lobby of an urban hotel, with its beaded chandeliers, sky-high ceilings, and neutral color palette echoing the rugged surrounding landscape. The space reportedly operates on 80 percent renewable energy, and the eye-catching sculptures that punctuate the halls are made from upcycled materials (ribbons, copper wire, and even citrus peels) by 21 emerging artists. Long layovers here go by in no time, thanks to well-made pisco sours and dedicated sleeping areas—best enjoyed in that order.  —Nicholas DeRenzo

Al Mourjan Business Lounge – The Garden at Hamad International Airport, Doha, Qatar 

Part of a massive expansion in time for the 2022 FIFA World Cup, this mezzanine lounge for Qatar Airways’ premium passengers overlooks an indoor tropical garden under an undulating glass roof. The abundant natural light and seating areas next to gurgling water evoke traditional Arab architecture, while modern amenities include showers with Diptyque toiletries and a play room with foosball and pool tables. Befitting of Qatar Airways’ bigger-is-better ethos, there’s also a Louis Vuitton-branded lounge within a lounge, with menus by Michelin-star magnet Yannick Alléno. —Nicholas DeRenzo

Amédée Maingard Lounge at Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam International Airport, Mauritius 

This Indian Ocean island nation off the coast of Madagascar is where you’ll find Africa’s most charming lounge. It spans two levels: The first-floor Tamarin Lounge has a living wall and relaxation rooms, while the upstairs Chamarel Lounge offers views over the runway beneath a ceiling of abstract white sculptures that call to mind the it’s-a-bird-it’s-a-plane logo of Air Mauritius. The buffet is a celebration of Mauritian specialties, including the island’s favorite street food, dholl puri, a crepe stuffed with spiced yellow split peas. —Nicholas DeRenzo

The post These 14 Business Class Lounges Are Redefining Airport Dining appeared first on Saveur.

If you’re anything like us, you don’t merely seek out good food when you travel—you plan entire trips around it. In Japan, the sight of a steaming bowl of kake soba can stop you in your tracks faster than a glimpse of Mount Fuji. In Puerto Rico, the pull of El National Yunque rainforest is matched only by the lure of mofongo doused with a ladleful of seafood stew. And in Lyon, terms like oeufs en meurette and quenelles de brochet are easy enough to recall—though the name of that lovely church by your hotel might not surface quite as readily.

Some destinations serve food so extraordinary that everything else becomes—pardon us—gravy. Here are our most memorable trips from the past year, offered up with the hope that they’ll inspire your own future culinary wanderings.

Ullapool, Scotland

Ullapool is a jumping off point for the Outer Hebrides archipelago, a protected harbor filled with little sailboats and one big ferry, deep in a sea loch leading out to a strait where fantastical storm kelpies might lurk. It bears a vague resemblance to a fictional Scottish village in my favorite 1980s antihero comedy, Local Hero (spoiler alert: there’s a mermaid), but that’s not giving this place its real due. In early spring, I walked the pebbled shoreline where gulls screeched as dayboats returned to the pier with scallops, oysters, and langoustines. I ordered all of the above, plus a meaty chunk of locally smoked trout and a big slice of buttered brown bread, at the Seafood Shack, where this catch appears daily on the slate menu board. Afterwards, I picked up a bottle of Seven Crofts Fisherman’s Strength Gin at the Highland Liquor Co. Bottle Shop, and sampled a wee slab of cheese called Fat Cow at West Coast Delicatessen. Dinner was at The Dipping Lugger, a handsomely snug guesthouse facing the harbor, where I had yet more scallops, monkfish with a dab of caviar, and seared venison tenderloin. Then I poured a nightcap from the honor bar, which is really a cabinet filled with single malts rarely found outside the Highlands. —Shane Mitchell, Editor at Large

Antigua, Guatemala

This year marked my first visit to Antigua, and not only did the weather live up to Guatemala’s nickname, The Land of Eternal Spring, but the food was also phenomenal. I was lucky enough to stay at Villa Bokéh, which is one of those rare hotels that’s beloved by visitors and locals alike (it’s the hottest brunch reservation and dreamiest wedding destination in town). The popularity of the family-owned Relais & Châteaux property is in large part due to its lush, meticulously maintained six-acre garden with a gorgeous view of the dormant Agua Volcano. Everything from the traditional Guatemalan breakfast—complete with eggs you can pick from the chicken coop yourself and fresh handmade tortillas—to the deceptively simple black bean soup, which I enjoyed in bed the night I arrived, to chef Marcos Sáenz’s deconstructed take on tapado, a traditional Garifuna seafood stew with coconut milk and plantains, was outstanding.

From the hotel, it’s a quick car ride or leisurely stroll to downtown Antigua, a UNESCO World Heritage Site known for its cobbled streets and colorful buildings—brimming with culinary delights. Highlights included the tenderest hilachas, shredded beef in tomato sauce, at Comedor Sarita inside the open-air Mercado Central (worth visiting for the produce alone); vibrant tropical ice creams at La Tienda de Doña Gavi; juicy pork dumplings with chimichurri and fried chicken with black garlic mayo at Barriga Llena; flaky white fish with macuy (a native Guatemalan herb) and tetelas with roasted chile sauce at Nanik; and tortilla chips bathed in a rich chicken pepián at Comalote. A nightcap at Ulew Cocktail Bar is also a must—I’m still thinking about their Negroni, which swaps out gin for cusha, a Mayan ancestral spirit made with corn. For food souvenirs, I highly recommend swinging by Pachamama Blends for custom teas and tisanes, and Guatelaria for local sweets like candied figs and guava curls. —Frances Kim, Digital Director

Quebec, Canada

Following a conference in Quebec City this fall, I set off on a solo weekend in the Laurentides. It had been more than a decade since my last trip to Canada—during the last gasps of a doomed relationship!—but with centuries-deep Quebecois and Acadian roots, I’d been quietly yearning to reclaim the region for myself. I settled into a corner room in the Fairmont Tremblant during the sleepy shoulder season, before the ski town revved up for winter. The quiet left space for lazy mornings over the club floor’s lavish breakfast, hikes through flame-colored mountains, and a standout meal at Choux Gras. Under the direction of Quebecois chef Mathieu Cloutier, the hotel’s dining program is deeply rooted in regional products, from the ham on the breakfast buffet to the cocktail bar’s local spirits list to Choux Gras’ maple cotton candy-topped tarte au sucre. A scallop ceviche, brightened with sea buckthorn berries, ice cider, and camelina oil captured the playful locavore ethos particularly well!

After a day steaming by the river in Mont-Tremblant’s Scandinavian Spa, I ventured further afield to Mont Blanc’s Gourmet Sauvage. Now run by its founder’s daughter, the shop is one of the few places to sample their hyperlocal products (elderberry jelly! chanterelle caramel! oxeye daisy capers!) alongside foraged teas, natural cosmetics, and other regional specialties. I tucked an extraordinary bottle of honey wine vermouth from Miel d’Anicet into my bag, which I’ve been rationing by the thimblefull ever since. 

I closed the trip with a brunch at Cabane à Sucre Au Pied de Cochon—joined by Montreal-based SAVEUR contributor Mayssam Samaha—for an over-the-top, cider-soaked celebration of the region’s autumn bounty. —Kat Craddock, Editor-in-Chief

Reykjavík, Iceland

Just last month, I had a sudden and exciting opportunity to travel to Iceland, a country I’d long dreamed of but never quite managed to visit. Most of the brief trip was spent at the Retreat Hotel at the Blue Lagoon, an oasis of mineral-rich turquoise baths—and some really great food to boot. The hotel is also home to Moss Restaurant, one of only three Michelin-starred restaurants in the country, with a menu of local delicacies (think: cod, lamb, and tuna tartare with Icelandic wasabi) that draws from the dramatic lava rock landscapes, visible from our table through the room’s vast windows. The following night, I had the pleasure of dining at Dill in Reykjavík, where chef Gunnar Karl Gíslasson took me on the most exquisite tasting menu journey, where each bite brought some new (to me, anyway) piece of Icelandic culture and history. I will never forget the crispy fried rosette snack stuffed with smoked haddock and adorned with tender slivers of kohlrabi, or the whelk with turnips and spruce—its broth served in its shell resting atop a tangle of seaweed. The trip was far too short, but I can’t wait to return and see what other adventures the island country has to offer. —Alex Testere, Senior Editor

Mystic, Connecticut

I recently took a solo road trip and decided to stop in Mystic for a night. It was autumn, so there was peak foliage and lots of good hiking, both in the woods and along the waterfront, but the real lure for me was the food. I got whole fried clam bellies, fries, and slaw at Sea View Snack Bar; mozzarella sticks and the house lager at Mystic Pizza (my love for Julia Roberts will never end); and drinks and snacks at The Shipwright’s Daughter (the monkfish mortadella toast is maybe one of the best things I’ve eaten all year). I stayed at Eileen of Mystic, a bed-and-breakfast a five-minute drive from the town center, and it was perfect. Owners Josh and Erin Cave renovated the charming 1700s farmhouse, which features gorgeous artistic touches throughout (think: vintage soap holders and antique books) as well as a plentiful and filling homemade breakfast. Don’t forget to hit up Nana’s for coffee and a sandwich before hitting the road (or stop at a lobster shack along the water; nearby Abbott’s Lobster in the Rough or Lobster Landing are great not-to-be-missed options). —Farideh Sadeghin, Contributing Editor

Lyon, France

Repeatedly hailed as the “gastronomic capital” of France, Lyon punches far above its weight. Nestled at the confluence of the Rhône and Saône rivers, the city sits in the heart of the Rhône Valley, surrounded by vineyards, orchards, and abundant farmland, making the region known for its agricultural prowess. Thanks to this, there’s no shortage of world-class ingredients to work with. Some of my favorite spots were Le Café Comptoir Abel for classic Lyonnaise bouchon fare (think pike quenelles and lentil salad with saucisson); Bru, a shop dedicated solely to pâté en croûte; Alebrije, a fine-dining Mexican restaurant employing French ingredients and techniques; Cour des Loges hotel, whose breakfast––especially the egg of the day––should not be missed; and Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse, the iconic indoor market where you can find fresh charcuterie, local cheese, regional produce, and mind-blowing pastries—a true showcase of Lyon’s culinary richness. —Ryan McCarthy, Assistant Editor

Dubois, Wyoming

The minute we walked through the doors at the Bitterroot Ranch, I knew we would be eating well. The smell of fresh-baked cookies hung in the air as we toured the lodge, a cozy space filled with antiques where we would be sharing all of our meals. On the first night, everyone congregated around a giant platter of bruschetta while drinking seemingly bottomless glasses of wine. We learned about the vegetable garden and the ranch-raised lamb and beef that would feed us. Breakfast was made-to-order with a rotating special each day—waffles, biscuits and gravy, eggs Benedict, omelets. After a couple of hours on horseback, we would meet back at the lodge for lunch, where a buffet table filled to the brim always greeted us. Dinner was typical Western fare: meatloaf, prime rib, pork loin, burgers. Dessert was my favorite: pecan sandies, blueberry-peach cobbler, German chocolate cake, mango sorbet, and an incredibly simple strawberries and cream that now lives rent-free in my head. We also managed to make it into town for a bite at one of the local restaurants, the Cowboy Cafe, and I had what may be the best Reuben west of the Mississippi. Somehow, in this tiny northwest corner of Wyoming, I stumbled into a secret culinary haven. —Emma Simard, Copy Editor

North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany

When I first arrived in Germany, I didn’t know what to expect. I was excited—I had been to Europe before, but that was almost 20 years ago. I was with family, meeting family. For our first night, my cousins had booked us a table at one of the best restaurants in Rietberg, Gaststätte Bartscher. “It was super hard to get a reservation here,” my cousin Steffi said as we walked in. As soon as we sat, our table was filled with crisp, fluffy potato croquettes, the best schnitzel I’ve ever had, and pints of beer with frothy heads that looked like little crowns. After dinner, we walked through town, taking in the sites and chatting, until we found a spaghetti ice cream shop. This niche little dessert is exactly what it sounds like—ice cream with a muddled strawberry sauce that visually mimics a plate of spaghetti with red sauce. 

A few days into the trip, my cousin Marita cooked for us: kartoffelklösse (potato dumplings), rotkohl (sweet-and-sour red cabbage), and rinderrouladen (thinly sliced beef rolls filled with mustard, pickles, onions, and bacon). I’m not a big red meat eater, but I will dream of this meal for the rest of my life. To finish, homemade apple sauce with fresh cream and a sprig of mint. Speaking of memorable dishes, on our last night in town, my cousin Anna hosted dinner and cooked for us; she made the most stunning (visually and flavor-wise) salad I have ever eaten—dotted with fresh herbs and flowers plucked from her garden and drizzled with a homemade lemon-shallot vinaigrette. A little piece of me mourns when I think about that salad because I know I will never be able to replicate it. —Emma Simard, Copy Editor 

Houston, Texas

This fall, I flew to Houston for a friendcation with some fellow gaming enthusiasts. My food excursions began in the suburbs of Shenandoah at EAD Vietnamese Restaurant, where my best friend and I filled the table with nearly half the menu. The crushed shrimp wrap—two thick rice paper rolls chockful of dried shrimp and greens—was served alongside a fish sauce unlike anything I’ve dipped into before. The “beef rattle” tenderloin stir-fry, owners Benjamin and Chelsea Dang’s take on the classic com bo luc lac (shaking beef with rice), was so good, we got another order to go.

Once back in Houston proper, my group scattered at the Pit Room for classic Houstonian barbecue (smoked, no sauce!). I dug into tender brisket and jalapeño-cheddar sausages, and the lightly pickled carrots, jalapeños, and onions were so heavenly, I could barely stay away from the condiment bar. 

We also ascended to the rooftop of Post Market—an international food hall located in a former mail-sorting facility—for a remarkable sunset and skyline selfies. The hall boasts 30-plus food concepts, from Uzbek and Eastern European fare at Foreign Grill to Texan hot dogs topped with cream cheese, grilled onions, honey mayo, and sriracha at Yoyos. I savored West African suya steak skewers and yaji-spiced Brussels sprouts from chef Ope Amosu’s ChòpnBlọk. Other weekend highlights included inhaling birria tacos and ramen in the shady respite of umbrellas outside The Birria Queen’s food truck, and munching delicately on chicken feet with black bean sauce and steamed custard buns at beloved dim sum spot Fung’s Kitchen.

My very best bite of the trip was at Katami. Its innovative and perfectly tart NA cocktails are noteworthy, but I am still dreaming of chef Manabu Horiuchi’s soy-marinated tuna nigiri served with a touch of karashi mustard. —Stephanie Pancratz, Managing Director, Editorial Operations

London, England

My wife is English, and we’ve made a habit of visiting London a few times each year. But on our most recent trip this past September, our schedules gave me more time to explore the city on my own. We made sure to share a few exceptional meals together—standouts included the sleek, New York-leaning fare at One Club Row, as well as the joyful modern takes on British cooking at Dove and The Pelican—while staying at the wonderful boutique hotel, The Laslett. To our delight, London greeted us with a stretch of rare warm, sunny weather. Taking full advantage, I hopped on one of the city’s Lime bikes and set out to explore the food scene in my own way, grabbing salt beef sandwiches from Northfield Farm at Borough Market, sausage rolls from The Ginger Pig, and tracking down perfect pints at The Windsor Castle in Kensington and The Devonshire in Soho. London’s contemporary food scene rests beautifully atop centuries of layered history. Each visit deepens my appreciation for the city’s evolving culinary spirit. I can’t wait to go back. ––Thomas Payne, Visuals Director 

Carmel-by-the-Sea, California

I went with my family to California in April and came back relaxed, reset, and well-fed. When we explored Carmel-by-the-Sea—along with Palo Alto, Monterey, and Big Sur—we were amazed not only by the rugged coastal beauty, but also the dining options. San Francisco is an obvious choice when visiting the West Coast, but excellent meals are to be had in other parts of California. Head to Zareen’s for Pakistani food (don’t be daunted by the lines out the door, they move fast!); Post Ranch Inn for a composed, delectable meal with a stunning view; or Ad Astra Bread Co. for a sourdough loaf and a great cup of coffee while you peek into their open kitchen. One of my favorites is Chez Noir, an elegant Michelin-starred number where seafood takes center stage. We stayed at La Petit Pali, where breakfast was always fresh croissants and yogurt, and the beach was right around the corner. —Fatima Khawaja, Contributing Editor

The post The Best Food Trips SAVEUR’s Editors Took This Year appeared first on Saveur.

Montreal’s dining scene has never been hotter. If you’ll indulge me in a little hometown bragging, I’d say it’s the best food city in North America right now. I’ve spent the last 15 years earning a living by traveling the world and eating, but no matter where I go, I’m always happiest coming home to Montreal. Over the last 30-plus years, I’ve watched it evolve from a city where you couldn’t find a decent baguette to one where the pastries could hold their own in a Parisian pâtisserie. With its bilingual culture, immigrant influences, and deep French roots, the city serves up a culinary scene that’s both wildly global and unmistakably Montreal. 

For those unfamiliar, Montreal is an island in Quebec’s Saint Lawrence River, and its neighborhoods feel like distinct villages. The 5,000 or so restaurants that call Montreal home are spread across the walkable island, which means you can wander from boulangerie to wine bar to dinner without ever needing a car.

There’s been plenty of ink spilled about Montreal’s top tables, and some of my colleagues have done an excellent job of it. Most best-of lists will lead you to starred and lauded spots like Mon Lapin, Mastard, or Sabayon—all fantastic dining experiences. But I have always thought that the real fun is on the B-sides, where the cuts feel more personal, more surprising, and end up playing on repeat in your memory. Consider this your guide to the Montreal spots locals whisper about, the restaurants tucked into corners and side streets, spread out across the many neighborhoods, that serve food as unforgettable as any headliner. This list spans from fine-dining restaurants serving silky foie gras to cafeteria-style eateries with bowls of fiery curry and everything in between.

KazaMaza

4629 Park Avenue
(514) 844-6292

Walk too quickly down busy Park Avenue and you might miss KazaMaza’s unassuming facade. The bohemian restaurant channels the warmth and generosity of true Lebanese hospitality. This is where I come when I am craving a taste of home. The mezes are all outstanding, but I highly recommend you leave room for the kibbé labniyé, bulgur-based croquettes stuffed with fragrant minced beef and stewed in a silky yogurt sauce with a cilantro and garlic paste—comfort in a bowl. A glass of ice-cold anise-scented arak is always the best pairing for a meze spread, but Lebanese wines and beers are also on the menu here.

Casavant

350 Rue de Castelnau E
(438) 380-0970

I can hear the buzz spilling out of Casavant before I reach its sunny corner. This unpretentious French Canadian bistro, dreamed up by industry folks for their own, has a way of turning guests into fast friends. Just steps from the Jean-Talon Market, the restaurant features a menu that leans on seasonality and balances indulgence with creativity. Some dishes have become essential fixtures, like the delicate, buttery tart that debuted as a Provençale and now shifts, shattering under the weight of seasonal fillings. The clever beef tartare is infused with local smoked mackerel, lending it an addictive depth of flavor. The natural wine list alone warrants lingering at the bar.

Restaurant Gus 

38 Rue Beaubien E
(514) 722-2175

With just 26 seats, Restaurant Gus feels like a neighborhood dinner party where everyone knows each other. Chef David Ferguson’s outsized personality infuses everything, from the flavor-packed steakhouse classics to the buzzy ambiance. Every dish here is made with intent and care, often requiring days of prep before making an appearance on guests’ plates. Seasonal tweaks keep things fresh, but many steadfast favorites would cause a riot if ever taken off the menu. Sit at the bar, which doubles as the chef’s stage. It’s the best spot in the house to watch your Gus Caesar come together in a seasoned wooden bowl, where yolk and anchovy are whisked to a glossy emulsion. The first garlicky bite will confirm why it’s considered Montreal’s best.

Satay Brothers

3721 Rue Notre Dame O
(514) 933-3507

Walk into Satay Brothers and suddenly Montreal feels a lot closer to a Singaporean street market. The place is chaotic, colorful, and humming with energy—a lively fever dream brought to life by sibling duo Alex and Mat Winnicki. The beef rendang and bao buns with pork belly papaya salad are all outstanding, but the star here is the laksa, a hearty rice noodle soup studded with shrimp and fish cakes. The spicy coconut milk-rich broth is the perfect remedy on a cold winter day. In summer, their hawker-style stall at Atwater Market brings the same bold flavors to the open air.

Bar St-Denis

6966 Rue Saint-Denis
(514) 276-9717

The first time I stepped into Bar St-Denis, the dazzling light fixture glowing across the dining room stopped me in my tracks. A long, underlit orange bar stretches down one side while an open kitchen anchors the back, setting the stage for food that’s consistently flawless. The menu shifts with the seasons, drawing on French technique with Montreal flair and a sprinkling of Levantine flavors. Dishes are deceptively simple, combining a few ingredients picked at their peak. I keep coming back for the labneh with pistachios, olives, and sumac, scooped up with blistered flatbread. It’s the kind of dish you want to last forever.

Candide

551 Rue Saint-Martin
(514) 447-2717

Even after a decade, walking down the alley to Candide still feels like I’m in on a secret—and now you are, too. Housed in a former presbytery, the room glows softly with warm wood tones and signature green banquettes. The evolving tasting menu is a love letter to Quebec, turning foraged, preserved, and market-fresh ingredients into dishes that surprise without ever showing off. It’s a true taste of Quebec’s terroir, and chances are you’ll eat things you’ve never tried before, such as sea parsley, oyster leaves, or blueberries pickled like capers. The wine list is just as considered, featuring gems from around the province alongside standout bottles from around the world. Hot tip: Grab a seat at the kitchen counter and watch the chefs plate with monk-like focus.

Lawrence

9 Avenue Fairmount E
(514) 796-5686

Eating at Lawrence feels like stepping into chef-owner Marc Cohen’s private atelier. A master of quiet restraint, he runs the kitchen solo, overlooking the intimate dining room from the window of his postage-stamp playground. His prix fixe menu shifts with the seasons and reflects his deep ties to Quebec’s small farms. Carefully sourced whole animals are broken down at his nearby butcher shop before reappearing as elegant, nose-to-tail dishes with a subtle British accent that reflects his background. Pork brain? Yes, please! Few can make an off-the-menu cut of meat feel this thrilling. Sitting in Lawrence’s snug dining room always feels personal, like a gifted friend is cooking just for you.

Kitano Shokudo

143 Mont-Royal Avenue E
(438) 383-4700

It was a photo of the uni carbonara that first lured me into Kitano Shokudo, but the room itself sealed the deal. Picture a moody, intimate space that feels like a Japanese tavern dreamed up in a Wong Kar-wai movie. The menu is a love letter to Japanese cuisine at large and to fish, from pristine sushi and radiant chirashi bowls to inventive plates like that memorable uni pasta. Every bite of the absurdly fresh urchin seems to melt on the tongue, handled with a reverence that makes this one of Montreal’s most exceptional restaurants.

La Chronique

104 Avenue Laurier O
(514) 271-3095

Three decades in, La Chronique remains one of Montreal’s most venerated temples of French fine dining. The white-tablecloth dining room feels timeless, with graceful service that’s warmly attentive and perfectly in step with the food’s quiet sophistication. Classic French technique meets impeccable ingredients plated with restrained elegance. Foie gras devotees will be pleased to know that it’s a permanent fixture here, seared so the edges caramelize while the center stays impossibly silky, and paired with seasonal accompaniments. The award-winning cellar is stacked with rare finds, promising pairings as refined as the cuisine itself.

Pumpui

83 Rue Saint-Zotique E
(514) 379-3024

Thai in Little Italy? Absolutely. Step inside Pumpui, the bright, cafeteria-style curry shop-grocery store mashup, and you’ll immediately find yourself elbow-to-elbow with locals who know what’s up. The menu dazzles with uncompromising Thai flavors, from creamy, spice-kissed curries to fragrant stir-fries, but don’t miss the chicken wings: crisp, juicy, and slathered in sweet-spicy sauce, they’re the menu’s sleeper star. If a daily special is offered, order it, you won’t regret it. Thoughtfully chosen craft beers, local drinks, and wines make perfect partners for the bold dishes on the menu.

Restaurant de l’ITHQ

3535 Rue Saint-Denis
(514) 282-5155

Dining at Quebec’s Institut de tourisme et d’hôtellerie (ITHQ) restaurant is always a treat because it feels like scoring a front-row seat to the next wave of local cuisine. Floor-to-ceiling windows flood the sleek, contemporary room with light, while a massive walk-in wine cellar looms like a treasure trove across the room. Make no mistake, this isn’t an amateur operation but rather Quebecois gastronomy at its finest, with regional ingredients handled with precision and creativity. Students and chefs display their formidable collective talent in both the kitchen and front-of-the-house. The menu constantly evolves but the local cheese platter is a must, though that’s no excuse to skip the fabulous desserts.

Luciano Trattoria

1212 Rue Saint-Zotique E
(514) 303-1204

Luciano Trattoria might fly under the radar with its humble facade and “cucina semplice” tagline, but step inside and you’ll see why locals guard it like a secret. Everything is made by hand, from ricotta gnocchi as light as clouds to tagliatelle that clings to sauce. And oh, that tomato sauce, less a condiment than a signature, tangy-sweet and utterly addictive. Don’t skip the polpette, a tender, juicy recipe passed down from the chef’s nonna, simmered in that same iconic sauce and dusted with grated Grana Padano. The room is unpretentious, the menu short, but the flavors run deep.

Foxy

1638 Rue Notre Dame O
(514) 925-7007

At Foxy, everything revolves around fire. The dining room glows with warmth and flickers of flame, setting the mood for seasonal, plant-forward plates meant to be shared. Vegetables emerge blistered and caramelized from flames, crudos get a quick kiss of glowing embers, and meats carry a whisper of smoke. The flatbread du moment, a perennial favorite, is always charred just right and topped with whatever the market is showing off. Co-owned by Véronique Dalle, an award-winning sommelier who sharpened her craft at some of Montreal’s top restaurants, Foxy features a wine list that’s every bit as compelling as the food.

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