BEST DISHES OF THE YEAR
Amid pandemic, 10 local dishes boasted taste, texture and purity that proved indelible
As we lurched toward the end of the pandemic year, I found myself humbled by the very notion of
“best.”
With so many restaurants scrambling to survive, what’s the point of the usual ranking features?
A “best dishes” list seems even more relative than usual in such a context.
My yearly favorites always depend on the boundaries of my own brain and palate. But in 2020, they also depended on the restricted set of dishes I was able to forage for myself as my universe shrank down to a cautious bubble.
The perpetual banquet of the professional food writer ground to a halt. In the quiet, I found myself appreciating things differently, pausing to grasp and savor food, and the professionals who cook it for us, in a new way.
Some of the dishes that brought the most joy answered an emotional need I didn’t even know I had, until I tasted and understood. Others seemed to slow time itself, allowing me to marvel at an unexpected texture, a half-forgotten flavor, the purity of an ingredient.
Here are 10 of those moments. The most indelible ones, if you will. Or “the best,” if you want. I was lucky to have them. My thanks to the people who made them possible.
1. CHAR SIU XIUMAI BANH MI, YELO AT BLODGETT FOOD HALL
Chef Cuc Lam is back — and how — with her modern Vietnamese sandwich stylings at Yelo, her partnership with Phat Eatery’s Alex Au-Yeung. An early star: soft, peppery pork meatballs (xiu mai) marinated in char siu barbecue pork seasonings, that march down the middle of a light and crusty French baguette loaf, lit up by pickled carrot and papaya, plus luxurious garlic aioli. You can up the ante with an optional fried egg and some silky house-made Vietnamese pâté. Get this sensational banh mi, first introduced at Yelo’s now-closed pop-up at Blodgett
FoodHall, at Phat Eatery (available beginning Jan. 8 or wait until Yelo opens next door later this month.
2. RABBIT AND OYSTER GUMBO, RAINBOWLODGE
Chef Mark Schmidt made this extraordinary gumbo for one of the Lodge’s weekly wine-tasting take-home kits, and it leapt into my personal gumbo hall of fame. From slick mahogany roux to slippery frilled oysters and slips of rabbit that seemed almost velveted, the textures flew as much as the deep regional flavors anchored me in place.
3. RAZOR CLAMS MARINATED WITH VIETNAMESE HERBS, XIN CHAO
I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed fresh shellfish (a luxury of the Before Times) until I tasted chef Christine Ha’s razor clams. Tucked into their narrow, elegant shells with a burst of herbs, scallion and fish sauce dressing, the clams’ springy texture and briny flavor stood out in relief. It was one of Ha’s weekend shellfish specials, such as feather-soft stone crab claws served with bouncy Vietnamese dips, at her exciting new modern Vietnamese restaurant in Old SixthWard.
4. MASA-BALL SOUP, NINFA’S UPTOWN
Chef Alex Padilla is always full of interesting ideas, even more so at the sleeker Uptown version of this longtime Mexican classic. The clarity and finesse of his “masa-ball” version of matzoh-ball soup held me in its grip from my first sip: delicate chicken broth, downy masa dumpling, even the pure ping of simmered celery crescents. In a year when soup held more than its usual comforts (there are three on this list!), this one stood out with its wit and sense of place.
5. PARTY MELT, BETTER LUCK TOMORROW
How did a cheeseburger
keep me thinking about it long after I had polished off the last crunchy, Parmesangilded crumb? With masterful textures backed up by deep, resonant flavors, courtesy of chef Justin Yu and his maniacal attention to detail. The secret of this sandwich (not “burger,” Yu likes to insist) is the aggressive pan-sear on its crust
less squares of pan de mie loaf, so that the Parmesan coating forms a brittle, golden sheath. Everything falls into place beneath: the expansively beefy patty; the waterfall of lively Thousand Island-style dressing; and the interplay of twocount-’em-two modes of onion — a caramelized tangle and a layer of shaved red ones, paper thin. What a trip.
6. CHILAQUILES IN SALSA VERDE, EL POLANQUITO
I smile just thinking about the handsprings turned by the green sauce on chef Diego Navarro’s chilaquiles at his little Mexico City-style cafe. Charry flavors ping against cilantro, tart tomatillo and bass notes of green chile, softening pan-fried tortilla chips into a spectrum of textures. Add a pair of frizzle-edged fried eggs, a swath of suave refried black beans, and you’ve got breakfast heaven — because the brunch menu runs through 5 p.m., a civilized touch. P.S.: The chilaquiles in mole sauce are every bit as good.
7. KNIFE-CUT NOODLE SOUP (KALGUKSU), MDK NOODLES
Silky, slippery, slithery: The delicate knife-cut
wheat noodles that are a housemade specialty at this new Korean noodle house run the gamut of my favorite s-words. These 2-foot-long babies — kalguksu in Korean — slurp mouthward with the greatest of ease. They are best appreciated in a rich, subtle chicken broth, along with tiny gingered pork dumplings, ground chicken crumbles and slips of wood ear. This comforting soup is best eaten on the spot, or as a takeout-friendly do-ityourself kit so that you simmer the noodles at home to precisely the right texture.
8. BARBECUE PLATTER, HARLEM ROAD TEXAS BBQ
Chef and pitmaster Ara Malekian’s magnificent smoked-meat platter at his far-southwestern barbecue joint, just over the Richmond line, is one of my last vivid dining memories from before the lockdown. The images of his elemental rose-red lamb chop and opulent, suave duckling are wreathed in woodsmoke; and the mighty beef ribs, with their crusty char, seem like a distant dream. I made a pledge to fellow BBQ State of Mind podcaster Chris Reid, the Houston Chronicle’s barbecue guru, to return here for a feast with bottles of great red wine. The goal stands, one of many getting me through the pandemic.
9. HUITLACOCHE PAN DE MUERTO, XOCHI
Such a bold idea, so gorgeously executed: I actually forgot to breathe for a moment when the shiny knot of huitlacoche-threaded pan de muerto was set before me at Xochi. Hugo Ortega’s downtown Oaxacan restaurant was celebrating Day of the Dead with a special menu that sunny Sunday, and the elegant funk of corn smut twisted through the crevices of the glazed pan dulce in a powdery black trail. With its
gentle sweetness and shock of savor, this pan de muerto was the crowning touch on a platter of ribeye bistec in black mole, and it stole the show. If I could eat one every day of the year, I would.
10. MARINATED ANCHOVIES WITH LEMON PEEL, HOWTO SURVIVE ON LAND & SEA
When a dish arrives at just the right moment, it’s as if a window opens. That’s what happened at the East End wine bar How to Survive on Land & Sea, where immaculate white anchovies arrived with a briny shimmer of lemon zest and good olive oil, tasting like a reminder of my pre-pandemic life. Perhaps even a promise for a barely glimpsed future, I speculated, as I scooped the shiny little fish up with crusty white bread and chased them with a crisp Spanish white. A weekslong funk lifted as I ate, and I remembered that sometimes restaurateur Mike Sammons’ kind of obsessive sourcing and minimal intervention can produce inspired results.