travel: field and stream… (2018)

– Some of my happiest moments in 2018 were spent waist-high in cold water.  On especially good days, the sun glinted off the rushing stream, and glistened at the seams of the slow-moving eddies and pools into which my mind swirled.  In those peaceful afternoons, tiny flies hung in the air like a thousand points […]


Some of my happiest moments in 2018 were spent waist-high in cold water.  On especially good days, the sun glinted off the rushing stream, and glistened at the seams of the slow-moving eddies and pools into which my mind swirled.  In those peaceful afternoons, tiny flies hung in the air like a thousand points of light, stirring hope from the deep.

I pulled trout from the crisp, mountain streams of Utah, and beautiful cod from the inky abyss of Greenlandic fjords.  In the mauvey glow of morning, with San Francisco twinkling in the distance, sea bass fought my line, only to be swiped clean off the hook by a seal waiting opportunistically nearby.

Mauvey morning.
Joshua Skenes with a striper on the line.
San Francisco Bay, California

But those were the highlights.  As any fisherman knows, with the good, there is plenty of bad: long days in the pouring rain, or set against gust and gale, casting into sound and fury.  I had plenty of those in 2018 too.

A seemingly endless day spent tracing the icy banks in the snowy expanse of Nevada yielded nothing.  The second day was just as hopeless. As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, we shrugged.  And, turning to each other to call the day, I watched the slack line suddenly go taught.  You just never know.

But the tally never mattered. What endure are the many scenes from 2018 set amidst field and stream, all of them spectacular. Despite the excruciatingly early mornings, creaky cots, mosquitos nets, and the sweaty miles squishing along in waders, the adventure was great. And I am grateful for every minute of it.

Chapters within chapters.  That is how densely knit 2018 was for me.

It seems like just last week I was scrambling to remember and record as much of 2017 as possible.  And now, I find myself at the top of 2019 doing the same for 2018, bewildered by just how much I have to unpack.  Sadly, only a fraction of it will fit into this one blog post.

In the past year, I committed more time to pursuing a career in photography.  Thankfully, I found plenty of work.  And that meant that, more than any year before, 2018 unfolded according to client needs.

But years of being disciplined and choosey about the kinds of people with whom I am willing to work are finally paying off.  I now have the privilege and pleasure of working with those who I consider to be among the very best in the industry.  And letting them dictate my year was an absolute joy.

I get just as many inquiries (if not more) about how I left my career as a lawyer to become a professional photographer as I do for restaurant recommendations.  In most cases, I’m reluctant to reply because I know that, ultimately, my story will be unhelpful to those who hope for a similar change.  That’s because I believe that life is highly circumstantial.  There is no formula, no right or wrong way to leave one career for another.  And, I certainly know that luck played a huge role in my story.  What I think most people actual want when they reach out to me is motivational reassurance.  And, without knowing their life circumstances, I am hesitant to give it.

But because my transition from lawyer to photographer is crucial to understanding the most significant realization I made in 2018, I will spend a little time on it here.

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while know that none of this was planned.  Far from it, there were years of uncertainty that I spent bracing for a hard landing.

Even before I left the practice of law, I began realizing that I had outgrown my role as a blogger.  And yet, at the time, being a blogger seemed like an identity to which I would be confined forever.  My biggest obstacle was my anonymity, which restricted me from moving beyond my blog.  And, admittedly, until I left the practice of law, I was comfortable hiding there.

So when I left the law firm at the beginning of 2011, that was just half of what I needed to do. It wasn’t until I shrugged off my anonymity later that year that I suddenly found myself truly facing a whole new universe of possibilities. And it was terrifying.  But the ensuing free-fall forced me to sort out my priorities quickly and efficiently.

I discovered early on that, although I wished to write more, I was ill-suited for the publishing world of the day. Interactions with editors and publishers revealed a reprehensibly shallow and insular culture that did not prize quality or education. I’m not just talking about food media, which have received the brunt of my disgust.  More surprising to me were the disappointing conversations I’ve had with book agents and publishers, many of whom have told me that talent and story are irrelevant nowadays without a huge social media following.

Perhaps I’ll publish one day. But not now.

So, I turned to another method by which I communicated with others about the things that mattered to me. In retrospect, photography seems like an inevitable path. But at the time, it was not obvious.  It took a lot of convincing for me to embrace the possibility of being a professional photographer.  I was not trained for it.  I had no credentials to offer.  Until people started paying me for my photography, I merely used it as a way to catalog my life.  I hadn’t been trying to make anything look glamorous.  Unlike so much of social media today, there was little to no artifice involved in what I was doing, no romantic or aspirational subtext to my work.  I was simply photographing in the field and on-the-go. It was practical and efficient. And that is what I loved about it.

The wonderful thing is that little has changed for me in the years since.  As a professional photographer, I’ve been able to maintain my journalistic approach to photographing an industry that, for decades, only cared about what ended up on the plate.  Despite the fact that I’m often introduced as a “food photographer,” tabletop photography (like event-related photography, which comprises a lot of my work) is only a small part of a much broader, and in my opinion, a far more interesting scope of work.

Even though my work is now mostly commercial – the bulk of my photography is used for advertising in one way or another – my focus hasn’t really changed. My subjects remain craftsman and their craft, and the places where they practice it.  I am less interested in showing the end result, and more interested in recording all of the things that make that result possible. It is there in the process that ideas happen, where craft is refined, and where I am able to feed my insatiable curiosity.  As an observer, having backstage access to the spheres I photograph has provided me an incredible education.

Unlike so many photographers these days, I make no mistake about my place in the world: I am not saving lives, or even making a significant contribution to society at large.  What I have to offer is simply a point of view.  Lucky for me, I arrived on the scene at a time when my point of view was useful. The food, beverage, and hospitality industries had just begun taking a more holistic approach to their businesses. They began exploring beyond the kitchen and dining room, moving the conversation out into the field, where I already was.

What I realized in 2018 was that I wasn’t just finally getting to do what I love doing.  I have been doing it all along, even when I had no audience.  It just took me a while to find the people who could help me do more of it.  And I am so grateful that I have.

I was lucky to spend much of 2018 working with familiar faces in familiar places.

I returned to South Carolina to work with Courtney Hampson, who casts her spells across the Low Country to conjure magical scenes in the mid-November nights for Music To Your Mouth. For the seventh year, I photographed this amazing event at Palmetto Bluff.  I’ll be returning at the end of January, 2019 to photograph her newest event, Field & Fire.

I continued long-standing partnerships with Justin Cogley at Aubergine (Rediscovering Coastal Cuisine), and Relais & Châteaux (Gourmetfest) at l’Auberge Carmel in Carmel-by-the-Sea. I also continued to work extensively with Joshua Skenes and his expanding portfolio of restaurants. In 2018, this included the opening of Angler in San Francisco, as well as other unannounced projects.

In 2018, Gavin Kaysen wrapped up his final season of the Synergy Series. I have enjoyed working with him and his crew for the past three years at Spoon and Stable in Minneapolis on this event, and wish him the best of luck as he turns his attention to opening his new restaurant Demi in 2019.

And, for the sixth year, I closed out the calendar in the pine-scented hills of Napa documenting one of the most-watched culinary events on the annual calendar.  I have now photographed seventy-two dinners of The Twelve Days of Christmas at The Restaurant at Meadowood.

I also worked on a number of new projects in 2018.

In addition to working with the Fairmont brand of hotels, I photographed twice for Alys Beach, a short but gleaming stretch of shoreline on the panhandle of Florida. In February, this private development hosted 30A Wine Fest, and Digital Graffiti in May. The latter brought dozens of digital artists from around the world to share their art, which was projected onto the property’s uniquely bleach-white structures at night.

I also had the incredible opportunity of photographing for Blackberry Mountain. Set among 5,000 acres in the Appalachian Mountains of eastern Tennessee, this new resort focuses on health and wellness. As you might have guessed, it’s a sister property of Blackberry Farm.  I loved working with Sarah Chabot, the Director of Marketing, and her team because they and their company value process and culture, and the preservation of both.  Not only did Chabot entrust me with photographing the restaurants on the property, but over three visits in three different seasons, she sent me into the woods in search of what makes Blackberry Mountain truly special.  I had help of course.  A native of the area, Boyd Hopkins is the resort’s resident guide and guru when it comes to those Tennessee mountains.  Plainspoken and straightforward, this trailblazer – in the literal sense of that word – is the ultimate woodsman. His knowledge of flora and fauna was incredible, and the stories he spun from them were captivating.  If you ever have a chance to visit Blackberry Farm or Blackberry Mountain, a day with Hopkins will be a day well-spent.

Blackberry Mountain will open soon in Q1 of 2019, and I can’t wait to return to photograph the resort once it does.

Although 2018 didn’t fling me as far as in previous years – Australia, Indonesia, Singapore, and all over Europe in 2016; Thailand, Cambodia, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Zambia, and all over Europe in 2017 – I still managed to break my previous travel record.  Logging over a hundred flights, I flew more than 150,000 miles – the equivalent of six times around the earth.

With the exception of a sunny escape to the cape of Baja California in Mexico, I mostly shuttled across the Atlantic between the U.S. and Europe.

In June, I was in Paris.  As I wrote a couple of years ago, this ancient city has managed to remain a significant intersection throughout my life. This time, my college classmate Steve Weissman happened to be in town to cover The French Open for the Tennis Channel.  It got pretty hot in the stands, so I ended up spending most of the time with Steve on the couch of the Tennis Channel set. From that canopied catbird seat overlooking the Roland Garros complex, we watched all the matches on all the monitors. It was a pretty sweet way to experience The French Open.  At night, we cleaned up and went out for steaks and escargot and turbot and baba and found ourselves next to food personalities and fashion icons. Only in Paris.

San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, Spain

I was also in Copenhagen twice; once in March, and once in September.  With the exception of a brief trip across the sound to the snowy Swedish countryside for dinner, I mostly stayed in the city.

In August, I returned to that stunning Basque coast for more jamón, beef, and seafood.  This was my third visit to the region, and this time, I was able to spend a couple of days in Bilbao – to see the Guggenheim – as well as a few days in San Sebastian.  I’ll be going back for a fourth time in a couple of months, after which I hope to finally record some thoughts about that delicious and beautiful region of Spain.

And, after more than a decade of traveling through Schipol Airport on my way to destinations beyond, I finally exited customs and spent a few days in Amsterdam.  I wrote about that trip and the personal history of it all on this blog last month.

Ferme du Vent
La Ferm du Vent
St-Méloir-des-Ondes, France

Ferme du Vent
La Ferm du Vent
St-Méloir-des-Ondes, France

I had never been to the northern coast of France.  So in 2018, I carved out a few days to visit Bretagne. The Roellinger family operates a number of small hotels clustered around the seaside city of Cancale. Together, these hotels, each with a unique story and style, comprise Les Maisons de Bricourt.  I stayed at the newest property, La Ferme du Vent.  Set amidst a windswept field, which grades slowly down to the sea, this former farm is now dotted with beautifully finished cottages.  Rustic and wild, this retreat focuses on peace and wellness, and the mystical history of the place, which is rooted in Celtic lore and legend.

Through a line of trees, on the adjacent property, is Château Richeux, which is also a part of Les Maisons de Bricourt.  On the ground floor of that seaside manse, Hugo Roellinger, son of the famous chef Olivier Roellinger, is continuing his family’s culinary legacy at the restaurant la Coquillage.

Mont St-Michel
Mont-St.-Michel, France

La Maison de Bricourt
Le Maison de Bricourt
Cancale, France

One day, I crossed over to Normandie to visit Mont-St-Michel.  Over a millennium ago, the Normans ferried stones across the shallow flats to build this magnificent fortress abbey.  This walled, Medieval city, which becomes an island at high tide, remains wonderfully preserved – if not a bit overrun with tourists.

Another day, I went into Cancale to visit Hugo and his father at their family home.  I had met both of them in California a couple of years earlier. It was here in this ivy-covered malouinière that Olivier Roellinger opened his restaurant in 1982 – the original Maison de Bricourt. Within a decade he had earned two Michelin stars, and retired from the kitchen, a celebrated hero of modern French cuisine with three stars, in 2009.

Hugo told me that their family home dates to the 1700s, when it was occupied by the French privateer Robert Surcouf, who pirated British trading ships in the Indian Ocean. Windfall wealth and spices from corsairs like Surcouf poured into the Breton port of St-Malo, near Cancale.  It is the flavors that these corsairs brought to the Breton coast that first inspired O. Roellinger’s cooking decades ago.  Some 300 years after Surcouf, in a twist of historical irony, the Roellinger’s home is now the headquarters for their own spice company, Épices Roellinger. Down in the cellar, Hugo showed me tins full of precious vanilla pods from around the world, and other rare spices.  The Roellingers sell their spices in a small retail shop next door.

American houses are so boring.
Nuuk, Greenland

The airport at Kangerlussuaq, Greenland.

In the beginning of this post, I mentioned a few fishing trips.  But there were also a lot of hunting trips in 2018 as well.

To clarify, I don’t have a hunting license (yet).  So, on these hunting trips, I was only shooting my camera.  In August, I was on an elk hunt in southern California, and on another one in Washington state in early November.  And in October, I went on my first moose hunt in Utah.

But the highlight hunt of 2018 was the trip I took to Greenland with my friend Mark Lundgaard Nielsen. Chef of Kong Hans Kælder in Copenhagen, Mark was invited to cook at an event in Nuuk, the capital of Greenland.  He asked me to join him on the trip, which also included three days of hunting and fishing.  Of course I went.

Currently, the only commercial airline that services Greenland is Air Greenland.  And Air Greenland only flies to and from Greenland from two cities outside of Greenland.  You can either fly from Reykjavik, Iceland on a Dash-8, which takes you directly to Nuuk.  Or, there is one flight a day on a wide-body jet (Airbus 330) from Copenhagen, Denmark to Kangerlussuaq.  Kangerlussuaq is an airfield in the middle of nowhere just north of the Article Circle. There is nothing there except the airport, a small airport hotel, and a handful of houses where, presumably, the airport workers live.  A former U.S. Air Force station, Kangerlussuaq is the only airstrip in Greenland large enough to accommodate a wide-body jet (there are plans to enlarge Nuuk’s airstrip to accommodate wide-body jets).  I met Mark in Copenhagen and flew together from there to Kangerlussuaq, where we then transferred on a second flight to Nuuk.

Hunters on the hunt.

My ass is hovering over frigid waters.
Mark Lundgaard Nielsen and Ove Grødems in the dinghy to shore in Greenland.

Nuuk is a small coastal village that seems to be growing rapidly.  Even still, since there are no roads or highways connecting Greenlandic cities – there isn’t enough traffic to justify them – the roads in Nuuk simply stop at the edge of the city.  Beyond those dead-ends is vast wilderness.

Although Greenland has been under Danish rule for over two centuries, it didn’t officially become a Danish territory until the 1950s. As a territory, Greenland is largely self-governed under a system that the Danish government calls “home rule.”  Since the island is fairly isolated from the rest of the world, the population remains predominately native Greenlandic, and the official language is Greenlandic.  But Danes – even second or third generation Danes – are common here.  And Danish is widely spoken.

Anne Grødems is one of these multi-generational Danish Greenlanders.  She organized the event that brought Mark to Greenland, and was a wonderful host while we were there.

One day, while Mark was prepping for the dinner, Anne took me to the village co-op, where locals have traditionally bought and sold their meat and fish. Because Greenland is so isolated from the rest of the world, most Greenlanders still hunt and catch their own food, or rely on friends and family to do it for them.  There were bins full of fresh salmon, piles of caribou meat for sale, and a hunter dismembering a freshly caught seal.  Afterwards, she took me to a local restaurant to try some native Greenlandic food. Our lunch included narwhale skin (yes, the “unicorn” whale), which is eaten raw with a bit of salt.  Locals call it “Greenlandic chewing gum” because the rubbery skin is impenetrable, and can be chewed for hours.  It’s the fat on the skin you’re after anyway.  And after that has melted, most people swallow the rest.  We also had dried ox jerky, dried seal jerky, raw seal fat, and a steaming bowl of seal stew that had been thickened with rice.  Seal fat has a particularly oily smell to it – once you have it, you’ll never forget it.  I’ve now had it a few times, and I have to admit that I’m still working hard on acquiring a taste for it.

After the event was over, Anne’s husband Ove, and Ove’s colleague Rene Christensen took Mark and me on a three-day hunting and fishing trip.  We boarded Ove’s boat Nana and sailed three and a half hours north along the western coast of Greenland, and into a fjord, where we dropped anchor.

Without question, Greenland is the most untouched land I have visited.  Even the remote parts of Iceland and Patagonia that I had visited were reachable by land vehicles.  Where we were in Greenland, there were no roads, not even dirt tracks for cars to follow.  For as far as the eye could see, there was no trace of human life.  In fact, there was little evidence of life at all – a quiet, still vastness of rock carpeted with moss.  It is quite possible that we walked where no human had walked before.

We slept on the boat and shuttled to shore in a dinghy every morning. From dawn until dusk, we trekked and canvassed the land for caribou.  On the first day, we shot two snow hare; on the second day, we shot a third.  But there was no caribou in sight.

Nevertheless, we ate well on the good ship Nana.  Mark had prepared food for us to heat up at night.  There was hearty Danish tarteletter – a rich chicken velouté that’s served in puff pastry cups. One night we caught cod off the side of the boat and cooked that.  We had heaps of Greenlandic shrimp with us as well, and made smørrebrød with it. And never one to overlook details, Mark had brought canelés, which we heated up after dinner using a stovetop toaster.

Finally, on the third day, two caribou.  Both were shot and dressed before noon.  And both had to be packed out.  I did my part: with my camera slung over one shoulder, and a rifle over another, I hiked back with a liver in one hand, and a heart in another.  In good spirits, but on stormy seas, we sailed back to Nuuk, where Anne awaited us with a feast she had prepared.

I can’t thank my new Greenlandic friends enough for their incredible hospitality.  I hope I get to visit them again soon.

Sadly, 2018 was the first year in over a decade that I didn’t visit New York.

Otherwise, work took me all over the United States: Pittsburgh, Austin, Knoxville, Panama Beach, Salt Lake City, Carmel, the Napa Valley, San Francisco, Minneapolis, and the Olympic Peninsula of Washington.

I also visited my goddaughter in Seattle, attended the James Beard Awards in Chicago, visited Charleston twice – once with my family, and once with friends – and finally made it back to Washington, D.C.  I am happy to report that the dining scene in the capital city has improved significantly since I was last there in 2013.

Throughout all of my travels in 2018, I had a lot of great food.  Per annual tradition, I’ll be writing about my favorite dishes, desserts, and meals in the following three posts.  In the meantime, I will end this post with a list of every restaurant I visited in 2018.


Aubergine (Carmel-by-the-Sea, California)
Empanada Madness (Leawood, Kansas)
fl.2 at the Fairmont (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; 4x)
Mission Taco (Kansas City, Missouri)
Or, The Whale (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)
Q39 (Kansas City, Missouri)
Sahara (Kansas City, Missouri)
Tako (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)


American Restaurant (Kansas City, Missouri; Friends of James Beard Foundation)
Ba Bar (Seattle, Washington)
Bar Melusine (Seattle, Washington; 2x)
benu (San Francisco, California)
Boulette’s Larder (San Francisco, California)
Canlis (Seattle, Washington)
Chinook’s (Seattle, Washington)
Copal (Seattle, Washington)
Fonville Press, The (Alys Beach, Florida; 3x)
General Porpoise (Seattle, Washington; 2x)
Great China (Berkeley, California)
Happy Gillis Café & Hangout (Kansas City, Missouri)
Il Corvo (Seattle, Washington)
Joe’s Kansas City (Kansas City, Kansas)
London Plane, The (Seattle, Washington)
McClain’s Market (Leawood, Kansas)
Mister Jiu’s (San Francisco, California)
Saison (San Francisco, California)
Wataru (Seattle, Washington)
Z & Y (San Francisco, California)
Zuni Café (San Francisco, California)


Anderson & Maillard (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Antler Room, The (Kansas City, Missouri)
Apollo Bar (Copenhagen, Denmark; 2x)
Acquerello (San Francisco, California)
Bluestem (Kansas City, Missouri)
Daniel Berlin (Skåne Tranås, Sweden)
Grøften (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Hogshead (Kansas City, Missouri)
Jardiniere (San Francisco, California)
Kong Hans Kælder (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Mälmo Saluhall (Mälmo, Sweden)
noma (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Ramen Shop (Oakland, California)
St. Genevieve (Minneapolis, Minnesota)
Zuni Café (San Francisco, California; 2x)


Barn at Blackberry Farm, The (Walland, Tennessee; 2x)
Dogwood at Blackberry Farm (Walland, Tennessee; 2x)
Hidden Dim Sum (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Jah Izakaya (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Kong Hans Kælder (Copenhagen, Denmark; påfrokost)
Marchal at the Hôtel d’Angleterre (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Martina (Minneapolis, Minnesota)
Messenger Coffee (Kansas City, Missouri; 2x)
Novel (Kansas City, Missouri)
Palægade (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Port Fonda (Kansas City, Missouri)
Rye (Kansas City, Missouri)
Young Joni (Minneapolis, Minnesota)


167 Raw (Charleston, South Carolina)
3 Arts Club Café (Chicago, Illinois)
Acre (Animas, Mexico)
avec (Chicago, Illinois)
Bachelor Farmer Café (Minneapolis, Minnesota)
Bavette Boeuf and Bar (Chicago, Illinois)
Blue Fish (Palmilla, Mexico)
Broadway Deli (Kansas City, Missouri)
Fonville Press (Alys Beach, Florida)
George’s (Alys Beach, Florida)
Giant (Chicago, Illinois)
Husk (Charleston, South Carolina)
La Panaderia (San Jose del Cabo, Mexico)
L’Avant Comptoir (Paris, France)
Leon’s Oyster Shop (Charleston, South Carolina)
Mamiche (Paris, France)
mokonuts (Paris, France)
Publican Anker (Chicago, Illinois)
Quinsou (Paris, France)
Restaurant at 1900, The (Mission, Kansas)
Rodney Scott’s BBQ (Charleston, South Carolina)
Somerset (Chicago, Illinois)
Stinky’s Fish Camp (Santa Rosa Beach, Florida)
Sur (Cabo San Lucas, Mexico)


Café Breizh (Cancale, France)
Château Richeux (Saint-Méloir-des-Ondes, France)
Chez l’Ami Jean (Paris, France)
Kulture Kurry (Overland Park, Kansas)
L’Ambroisie (Paris, France)
L’Avenue (Paris, France)
La Ferme du Vent (Saint-Méloir-des-Ondes, France; 3x)
La Fontaine de Bellevie (Paris, France)
Port Fonda (Kansas City, Missouri)


Asador Etxebarri (Axpe, Spain)
Bachelor Farmer Café, The (Minneapolis, Minnesota; 3x)
Barn at Blackberry Farm, The (Walland, Tennessee; 2x)
Boulette’s Larder (San Francisco, California)
Casa Julián (Tolosa, Spain)
Dogwood at Blackberry Farm (Walland, Tennessee, 3x)
Elkano (Getaria, Spain)
El Puertito (Bilbao, Spain)
Ganbara (San Sebastian, Spain; 3x)
Gandarias (San Sebastian, Spain)
McGonigle’s (Kansas City, Missouri)
Saison (San Francisco, California)
Savoy at 21C, The (Kansas City, Missouri)
Victor Montes (Bilbao, Spain)


A Rake’s Progress (Washington, D.C.)
Bad Saint (Washington, D.C.)
Bite, The (Kansas City, Missouri)
Brothers & Sisters (Washington, D.C.)
Dabney, The (Washington, D.C.)
Golden Ox, The (Kansas City, Missouri)
Joe’s Kansas City (Kansas City, Kansas)
Kobi Q (Kansas City, Missouri)
Maketto (Washington, D.C.)
Maydan (Washington, D.C.)
Nerua at the Bilbao Guggenheim (Bilbao, Spain)
Pizza 51 (Kansas City, Missouri)
Q by P. Chang (Bethesda, Maryland)
Rye (Kansas City, Missouri; 3x)
Savoy at 21C, The (Kansas City, Missouri)
Seylou (Washington, D.C.)
Tacos El Gallo (Kansas City, Missouri)


Angler (San Franciscom, California; 7x)
Apollo Bar (Copenhagen, Denmark; 3x)
Atelier September (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Boulette’s Larder (San Francisco, California; 2x)
Douglas on Sanchez, The (San Francisco)
Hamano (San Francisco, California; 2x)
Kong Hans Kælder (Copenhagen, Denmark)
Marchal at the Hôtel d’Angleterre (Copenhagen, Denmark)
NICO (San Francisco, California)
Saison (San Francisco, California)
Sam’s Grill (San Francisco, California)
Sarfalik (Nuuk, Greenland)
Soba Ichi (Oakland, California)
Takuss Pub (Nuuk, Greenland)
Turtle Tower (San Francisco, California)
Zuni Café (San Francisco, California)


Angler (San Francisco, California)
Barn at Blackberry Farm, The (Walland, Tennessee; 2x)
Bellecour (Wayzata, Minnesota)
Boulette’s Larder (San Francisco, California)
Brady’s Irish Pub (Kansas City, Missouri)
Campos (Salt Lake City, Utah)
Dogwood at Blackberry Farm (Walland, Tennessee; 2x)
HSL (Salt Lake City, Utah)
La Mar (San Francisco, California)
Mad Moose (Eden, Utah)
Pizza Nono (Salt Lake City, Utah)
Pretty Bird (Salt Lake City, Utah)
Red Cliff Grill (Huntsville, Utah)
Saigon Pho (Salt Lake City, Utah)
Saison (San Francisco, California)
Savoy at 21C, The (Kansas City, Missouri)
Spoon & Stable (Minneapolis, Minnesota)
Sura Eats at Parlor (Kansas City, Missouri)
Tartine Manufactory (San Francisco, California)
Z & Y (San Francisco, California)
Zuni Café (San Francisco, California)


All Good Things at the Fairmont (Austin, Texas)
Blakeslee’s Bar & Grill (Forks, Washington; 2x)
Breda (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)
FIG (Charleston, South Carolina)
Garrison at the Fairmont (Austin, Texas)
George W.P.A. (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)
Henrietta’s (Charleston, South Carolina; 2x)
Kulture Kurry (Overland Park, Kansas)
Leon’s Oyster Shop (Charleston, South Carolina)
Messenger Coffee (Kansas City, Missouri)
Ordinary, The (Charleston, South Carolina)
Pendergast (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)
Restaurant at 1900, The (Mission, Kansas)
Revue at the Fairmont (Austin, Texas)
Rijks (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)
Scandinavian Embassy, The (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)
Sully’s (Forks, Washington; 2x)
White Label (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)
White Room, The (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)


801 Chophouse (Leawood, Kansas)
Bouchon (Yountville, California)
Charter Oak, The (St. Helena, California: 4x)
Gott’s (St. Helena, California; 3x)
Messenger Coffee (Kansas City, Missouri)
Pizza 51 (Kansas City, Missouri)
Restaurant at Meadowood, The (St. Helena, California)
Restaurant at Meadowood, The (St. Helena, California; The Twelve Days of Christmas: Enrique, Pynt, Largey, Lowe, Seidler, Kim, Amaro, Cogley & Moran, Tusk, Ros, Atsumi, and Kostow)
Rye (Kansas City, Missouri)
Scribe Winery (Sonoma County, California)
Slaps BBQ (Kansas City, Kansas)
Southside (Napa, California)

Alys Beach

Here is a catalog of my prior year-end posts:

2011: suitcase party…
2012: foreign and domestic…
2013: blurred lines…
2014: leapfrogging… 
2015: fairytale…
2016: hemispheres and horizons… 
2017: an education…

Moose hunting in Utah.

Featured photo: Lord of the flies in Nevada.

Categories Uncategorized

Follow ulterior epicure

Featured in this post:

Leave a Reply