Kate Krader (@kkrader on Twitter) is Food & Wine's restaurant editor. When she tells us where to find our culinary heart's desire, we listen up.
If you had to sum up 2013 in one word, what would it be? Me, I have to say doughnuts. Mostly because of the omnipresent Cronut, the pastry that mashed up croissants and donuts and got people lining up for hours and launched a trazillion knockoffs.
But don’t forget that this was also the year Dunkin' Donuts introduced their Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich for those who want a sticky sweet bun for their bacon and egg sammy. And there’s word that Krispy Kreme will soon introduce “Donut Theater” to the US. Basically, that’s a clever name for a make-your-own doughnut situation.
But enough about doughnuts. Let’s discuss a few other things that happened in 2013: the highs and the lows.
Over the past two days, the now-infamous New York Times review of Guy Fieri's new 500 seat Times Square restaurant Guy’s American Kitchen & Bar caught fire across the Twittersphere, blogs, morning shows and even David Letterman's Top 10, but the boisterous, spike-coiffed chef remained uncharacteristically silent, until now.
Fieri said in a statement released by his PR reps:
Celebrity chef Guy Fieri is no stranger to jabs at his over-the-top persona. From his first appearances as a contestant on "The Next Food Network Star" to his cross-country speaking tours and swelling empire of restaurants across California and on Carnival Cruise Lines, the spike-haired, flame-shirted, gravel-voiced 44-year-old has been a ubiquitous and polarizing presence on the American culinary (or in Fierian parlance, "kulinary") scene.
Fieri has taken his share of heat from comics, fellow chefs and critics alike for his bombastic delivery and monumentally macho food fixations - but perhaps never so pointedly and deftly as in New York Times restaurant critic Pete Wells' review of Guy’s American Kitchen & Bar in Times Square.
"I'm going to destroy the mother*@$&#@."
That's roughly all of last night's roast of Anthony Bourdain that we can share and not get a phone call from our lawyers (or possibly our moms). The epithet was delivered by Bourdain's close friend, chef Eric Ripert on the red carpet of a New York City Wine & Food Festival event at which fellow chefs and acid-tongued comedians took turns dicing up the cantankerous chef/author/TV host/pot-stirrer/traveler - all in the name of charity.