You don’t have to eat at all these restaurants
Peak reservations in 2024 and 2025
There are 67 restaurants open today in New York on my Resy Hit List, an app function I use regularly to find a good place to eat. These are all spots I’ve saved after wonderful dining experiences or recommendations from friends. As of this morning, nine of them had indoor seats for two available tonight between 6-8pm — Le Rock, Yakitori Torishin, Mission Chinese Food, Claro, Corner Bar, Winner On Franklin, Libertine, Achilles Heel, HAGS and La Vara.
You could die happy if these were the only places at which you ever made dinner reservations in NYC. The list includes the city’s best crème brulée (Corner Bar), a stunner that treats you like an adult (Le Rock), the year’s best comeback (Mission) and a wildly underrated vegan tasting menu (HAGS). In Midtown or the Lower East Side or all across Brooklyn, they provide thoughtful service, precise cooking and spaces with distinct points of view. You wouldn’t miss the other 86% of restaurants listed here with no tables at all or, worse, the tease of availability on sidewalks in 37 degree weather. But it’s easy for that 86% to become a fixation.
In April, The New Yorker published a deep dive into the dire state of hot restaurant reservation culture. These pieces are getting more common, hitting with the same regularity as The New York Times’ asking if Austin, TX is weird anymore. (It’s not). Scarcity drives crazed demand and secondary markets. Losers book tables at 4 Charles with Resy bots. Restaurants get desperate for reliable regulars. The Infatuation churns out hit lists that get refreshed and bookmarked and searched for by folks who prioritize scenes and newness, hacking through the most accessible form of gatekeeping around.
I’m guilty of getting wrapped up in all of this, too. I did the Frog Club thing. I continue to weasel my way into Torrisi. I yearned for as many meals as possible at Bridges and Penny. I upgraded my Dorsia membership and balled out at Anajak a couple days before Thanksgiving. But I also got tired, and the hustle stopped being worth it. This is the year I accepted that you really don’t need to eat everywhere or try everything. The winners in the modern restaurant status game aren’t the people who spent hours securing the Thursday at 7pm res at Le Veau d'Or. They’re people who know you can basically always get a table at Frenchette and that’s good enough.
This all crested into a peak level of brokenness for me in October, when Pete Wells dropped a (somehow, not sponsored) piece in the Times advocating for you and your date wearing AirPods the next time you eat at a noisy restaurant in order to have a more pleasant experience. One underlying part of the permeating restaurant reservation freakout is a general offense-taking around inaccessibility. On a Friday night in October, waiting for a friend outside of the new Kellogg’s Diner in Williamsburg, I watched as a parade of parties entered and exited with quick scoffs.
“What kind of diner has a two-hour wait? How dare they.”
There are lots of quality diners in New York. Very few have a pastry program as special as the one Amanda Perdomo built, but that’s fine. Kellogg’s deserves to be busy, and I don’t think you deserve to eat a meal there simply by showing up.
This AirPod advocacy takes the entitlement to a new level. It takes what’s special about a place and asks that it bends to your will instead. Can’t handle a loud restaurant? Eat at a quiet one. It’s better than ruining the romance at Cervo’s by fidgeting with an Apple product on your face. Flummoxed by Coqodaq’s fully booked Resy page and your inability to get off the Notify list? Much like the suckers in the Apollo Bagel line, that’s a you problem.
I’m back in Los Angeles after spending the week in San Francisco. Before the trip, I instinctively poked around to see if anything new and interesting had opened up since my last visit. But then I stopped and pivoted plans. On Monday I joined a couple friends for a perfect evening at Chez Panisse. On Tuesday I slid into the bar at Verjus for a few snacks and an unforgettable pain perdu. On Wednesday I ordered all of my usual staples at Rintaro. On Thursday I ended up at a diner crushing chicken fingers and fries. And on Friday, back in LA, I popped into Stir Crazy since it was conveniently on the way to How Long Gone live.
These were quiet, easy and delightful comforts that always deliver. Getting in required zero hassle. Next time I’m in town, I might hit the exact same lineup. And that’s probably how I’ll approach a lot of 2025. Cooking at home and hosting a lot more. Letting places like Dave Beran’s new spot in Santa Monica settle in for a few months before making the trip out there. And becoming more of a regular at a few favorite spots as long as they don’t get infiltrated by dorks in noise-reducing headphones.