My first thought whenever I enter Crisp’s cheerful little storefront is “Glad I’m not a chicken.” Because it seems like every person eating here has a jumbo wing or drumstick in hand, alongside a piled-high plate of gnawed bones.

Korean fried chicken is the house specialty, and Crisp does a bang-up job with it. They cook up a bird with a delicate crunch to its skin, which gives way to super-tender meat beneath. Add the slightly sweet soy-ginger Seoul Sassy sauce, and it’s hard to refrain from going full-on carnivore.

Before there were out-the-door queues for whiskey caramel pecan doughnuts at Doughnut Vault and spiced maple chai doughnuts at Do-Rite, there was Dat Donut. Since 1994, owners Darryl and Andrea Townson have been baking deep on the South Side in Chatham. Dat’s confections whirl out on a lazy Susan from behind bulletproof glass—you point to what you want, and whoever’s at the window loads it onto the tray and spins it around.

The device is hardly big enough to contain the shop’s pièce de résistance—the Big Dat, a pumped-up glazed doughnut that’s a full seven inches in diameter. Even behind thick glass, under fluorescent light, its icing glimmers and dazzles. Bite into one, and your mouth gets hit with the perfect amount of sweet before the glaze gives way to the fresh, spongy dough, which is remarkably light—less greasy than yeasty.

Dat’s thick, tangy, and doughy custard doughnut ranks a close second, with its eggy filling and powdered-sugar exterior. Then there are the chocolate long johns, apple fritters, Boston creams—the shelves hold at least 20 more types, too. Dat makes them 24 hours a day, six days a week, taking a break only on Sunday nights (and, since the staff replenishes the racks frequently, you’re bound to get a fresh doughnut every time).

The shop itself is small, though you can linger and watch the bakers kneading, hand-cutting, and frying the dough behind the big glass window in back. The Townsons do a powerful thing here: They make kickass doughnuts, while also providing jobs and a little extra sweetness to a struggling community that truly appreciates their presence.

Despite its poultry prowess, my favorite thing at Crisp is a vegetarian dish, and the restaurant’s other claim to fame: the veggie-rich Buddha Bowl, a version of Korean bibimbap (mixed vegetables with rice). I lust for the Bad Boy Buddha, which heaps eight types of chilled, marinated vegetables—bean sprouts, carrots, zucchini, mushrooms, cucumber, spinach, corn, and radish—over steamed rice, with a runny fried egg plunked on top. It’s hot, cold, soft, crunchy, sweet, and spicy all at once.

You can also get a Baby Buddha (with four veggies) or a Big Boy Buddha (with 12), but the Bad Boy strikes the perfect balance. It’s good-mood food, and you can’t help but be in happy spirits here, thanks to the friendly dudes working the counter, the festive lime-green color scheme, and the slew of fizzy drink options that accompany the food.

I’ve been chowing down in Chicago for almost 30 years now, but I never get bored with the menu here. Probably because my adopted hometown mixes the depth and worldliness of a big city with all the culinary pluses of a small one.

First off, you can eat well in Chicago without spending a ton of money. It’s also terrifically laid-back. The restaurants I love don’t put on airs, and, for the most part, I can turn up in jeans and flip-flops and be welcomed to fork into an awesome meal. Restaurateurs from around the globe have set up shop in the city, meaning I can get a Lithuanian bacon bun or a multilayered Serbian walnut cookie or Senegalese rice and fish stew with equal ease, should the craving arise.

So, yeah, there’s good eatin’ here. Sure, big-name chefs have gone wild in neighborhoods like the West Loop, Wicker Park, and Logan Square. And that’s all fine and dandy, especially since even the buzziest restaurants are get-at-able. But my list of essential Chicago food experiences sticks more to classics: a rich and nostalgia-inducing hot fudge sundae, a stiff Martini, a good old-fashioned diner omelette, and—sorry, it can’t be helped—a big, doughy, and, yes, deep, Chicago-style stuffed pizza.

It’s easy to imagine this frozen-in-time ice cream parlor scooping up something sweet for Al Capone and the Beatles (which it has). The red-neon-lit shop has been around since 1921, and it looks the part. Kitschy knickknacks clutter the shelves, and mini jukeboxes charm on the tables. Sweet tooths of all ages scooch into the tight vinyl booths, panting for one thing: Margie’s sundaes.

They arrive on a silver platter, in a white clamshell bowl, alongside a silver gravy boat of hot fudge. The latter is key. You see, Margie’s also makes chocolate, so the shop’s not messing around when it comes to its rich, thick fudge. Margie’s whips up its own 18% butterfat ice cream, too. Regular sundaes contain two or three mighty scoops, plus whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry—add the hot-fudge gravy boat, and you’re pretty much guaranteed to fail at eating the whole thing, which is not to say you shouldn’t try.

Margie herself ran the shop until she passed away in 1995, but her spirit remains, along with her bloodline. Margie’s family still runs the timeless parlor, and here’s hoping they always will.

Walking into Dove’s Luncheonette in Wicker Park, I grab a stool at the stainless steel counter, and a waitress with jangly hoop earrings and bright-red lipstick plunks down a steaming mug of coffee before I can even get my coat off. Soul music drifts from the record player, and rows of tequila bottles rattle behind the bar.

The wood-paneled diner time-warps me back a half century to a dusty Rio Grande town, a place where drifters might stop in for a quick sandwich and shot under the lazily spinning ceiling fans. It’s like being in a Nelson Algren novel—which is smack where Dove’s draws its inspiration from: It’s named after A Walk on the Wild Side hustler Dove Linkhorn, and modeled after the joints of his era.

Meanwhile, Dove’s 125 tequilas and mezcals flow from morning to nightfall. I didn’t realize so many Chicagoans drank the hard stuff before 11 a.m., but they do at Dove’s. Nelson Algren would be proud.

Here, though, the customers aren’t down-and-out types, but rather tattooed and beanie-clad neighborhood folks. And the Tex-Mex menu isn’t typical diner fare, but a hot-spiced step up. The chicken-fried chicken, doused with spicy chorizo gravy and accompanied with sweet peas, shows how it’s done. The addictive hash, mixing crazy-crisp potatoes, blistered shishito peppers, and queso fresco, can be scarfed all day. Alas, you’ll need to be an early riser to experience the flapjack covered in granola and bittersweet Mexican-chocolate sauce. Dove’s serves it sizzling in a cast iron skillet, and it’s thick enough to merit the “cake” in “pancake.” An extra $1.50 gets you a fried egg atop anything on the menu.

It stacks up like this: a layer of dough, followed by mozzarella cheese, another layer of dough, then sauce and toppings. Did you catch that? Cheese is packed between two crusts, not laid on top of one, as with traditional deep-dish. Giordano’s bakes the mightiest version, an insanely hulking pie whose slices weigh more than a half pound each and whose crust rises two inches off the plate to cradle the mound of tangy sauce. It’s comfort food supreme—soft, warm, and so, so filling.

Del Mar is a light-filled and impeccably designed space in the new Wharf area, a neighborhood that screams high-end luxury. DC is just starting to embrace its waterfront, and this is a chance to try food from one of the city’s most celebrated chefs—Fabio Trabocchi, of DC seafood hotspots Fiola Mare and Sfoglina Pasta House—with the Potomac as a backdrop. Del Mar is a Spanish seafood restaurant, and with chef Fabio at the helm, you can’t go wrong with any fish on offer. I recently went for a celebratory lunch and had a delightful time. I’ve enjoyed the crudo, which came plated with lots of edible flowers, and the paellas are known to be some of the best in the city.

Del Mar has a more-is-more feel to it, which is not the style of restaurant that I’m typically drawn to, but it works, it’s very luxe. It really leaves no detail overlooked, which is obvious in its intricate plating and presentation, and stellar service; everything combines to create a very special restaurant that is done well, from the time you enter to the time you leave.

Many craft-beer trends can be traced to the availability of a new ingredient. It’s fair to say that the modern US craft-beer industry began here in 1972, when Oregon State University in Corvallis released the assertive, disease-resistant Cascade hop. That hop would soon become the backbone of two beers that kicked off the boom: Anchor Brewing Company’s Liberty Ale and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

Later, between 1984 and 1986, during a time when there were only about 50 breweries in the entire United States, Portland saw the openings of the now-shuttered BridgePort Brewing, Portland Brewing Co., Widmer Brothers, and Oregon’s first brewpub, McMenamins. Back then, Horse Brass Pub, which opened in 1976 and is still around today, was already favoring local beers and microbreweries over major producers. Today, the region’s seasonal bounties—the city is surrounded by local farmland that’s verdant with hop vines, fruit trees, and wine grapes—provide a ton of inspiration and fresh ingredients. Oregon is well known for its beer and its role as a leader of the cannabis revolution, but the Willamette Valley is also home to some of the best Pinot Noir and Chardonnay in the country, and local breweries are happy to take cues from them, experimenting with grapes and knowing when to put a good wine barrel to use.

didn’t miss beer, and that I might not even pick up drinking again. Weeks later, of course, I was already timing early dinners at nearby breweries around my breastfeeding schedule. But who can blame me? I’ve got some of the best breweries in the world right at my doorstep, and I can’t go anywhere in this town without running into a hot new brewpub or an old favorite ready with the perfect pour. The search for self-improvement continues in other areas of my life, but good beer is something I don’t have to look for.

When I wrote about Portland’s best new breweries for Serious Eats in 2015, the city had more breweries than any other in the country. While that’s no longer the case (congrats, Chicago!), there’s still a large and ever-growing number here, regularly winning national and international awards and attracting throngs of tourists and regulars, who happily line up to try coveted beers.

Sure, you could pick up a four-pack and sample some local favorites at home while watching Netflix, but true beer fans know that hitting the breweries in person is a must. It means access to beers you’ll never find on grocery store shelves, whether that’s a sour beer or nitro, a fresh-hop IPA (the all-too-brief season starts and ends in autumn), a small-batch one-off, or a special vintage bottle.

Portland has long been at the forefront of brewing trends, and there’s plenty of interesting stuff happening beyond the expected wide range of IPAs offered at most breweries. Read on to find out what breweries should be at the top of your Portland agenda.

I get steamed Maryland blue crabs—they’re local to this region and always served Maryland-style with an Old Bay–style spice blend—and whatever local beer is on offer. They have other things, too…but they’re not why I go there. My DC-native spouse took me to this place before there was really an established food scene in the city, and it’s remained an essential DC spot for this Baltimore girl.

Rose’s Luxury has a great lychee salad with pork sausage, habanero, and peanuts that has a bit of everything: creaminess from coconut, sweetness from the lychee, and savory notes from the sausage and peanuts. The menu’s put together straight off the chalkboards at the weekend farmers market—it’s very seasonal, incorporating whatever’s being harvested at the moment, with loads of flair and creative pairings. I look out for early spring when all the fresh, garlicky greens start popping up in everything on the menu. Bethesda Crab House is an old-school kind of place: brown paper–covered picnic tables on the patio; pitchers of beer; sports on TV; large, tasty crabs to eat, and dozens of crabs in brown bags heading out the door for crab feasts at area homes. The place and its vibe haven’t changed in years, so to any new customers: make sure the host doesn’t seat you on the patio by the dumpster!

Buck’s Fishing & Camping, in northwest DC, has an awesome ambience. It’s a neighborhood place with terrific food and a great vibe—artsy and sort of moody. The decor is meant to conjure an old fishing camp: There are canoes in the ceiling, and big huge plants, and great, dark red lighting. It’s like going to a private dinner for two anytime you go in: it’s very intimate and dark, and it feels like an escape from DC.

I really like their cheeseburger, with great prime beef and a brioche bun. The burger comes with these massive French fries, which I think are cut by hand, and are served with the best aioli I’ve ever had. Buck’s was just listed in Washington Post food critic Tom Sietsma’s hall of fame, because it’s one of those restaurants that’s been able to withstand the test of time. It lives and functions on its own wavelength.

This one is personal to me: Bistrot du Coin. It’s the first place José Andrés took me to have dinner in DC. One night after service, he asked if I was hungry, and took me to this little French bistro in Dupont Circle. It’s authentic—like something you would find in Paris—and as soon as I got there, I felt like it was a really casual, honest, and beautiful restaurant to enjoy a classic French meal. It’s got a good and fun environment. There’s also something romantic about it; I used to take dates here, too.

As for the food, it’s the kind of thing you’d eat at home, they’re not trying to make it too fancy. You can’t go wrong with a really good grilled ribeye, cooked to perfection, served with freaking delicious French fries made from scratch and served with Béarnaise sauce. Meat, butter, and fries: no one goes wrong with that.

From a classic French bistro beloved by José Andrés to an artsy neighborhood joint outfitted with canoes on the ceiling, these places are must-visits for a true DC experience. It’s hard to define Rose’s Luxury as a classic because it always feels so new every time I visit, but it’s definitely a don’t-miss for anyone visiting me in DC. Aaron Silverman and his team define hospitality and really showcase the best of DC, specializing in seasonal New American small plates that bring together influences from all over the globe.

The space itself is cozy and warm, full of little nooks, decorated with plants and string lights. Their staff is smart and engaging; they pay attention to the details and inspire conversation with their service and their dishes. My first visit here, I stood in line for two hours, ordered every single item on the menu, and left feeling like I wanted to get right back in line.

Hollywood East makes the case for going to a shopping mall to eat. It’s just good, solid dim sum. I discovered it when I moved north of the city, near Wheaton, Maryland—meaning, it’s near my house—which has a very large immigrant population and many great restaurants featuring cuisines from around the world. Plus, chef-owner Janet Yu is a longtime friend, and I like supporting women-owned businesses.

It’s always very busy for dim sum; the restaurant has a large, well-run dining room, with roving carts—there always seems to be a new cart in front of you, just when you want to try a new dish. I like the turnip cake, most of the dumplings, and, if my spouse isn’t looking, sometimes I’ll order the chicken feet. It’s hands down one of the best places for dim sum in the city. I’ve enjoyed the crudo, which came plated with lots of edible flowers, and the paellas are known to be some of the best in the city.

I enjoyed Convivial’s brunch recently—the chef there, Cedric Maupillier, puts out a big, beautiful spread. It’s modern and bright inside, and it has a casual feel with a backbone of fine dining—similar to us at Centrolina. I took my mom and she loved it. She felt very entertained because we were going to a hot spot—we weren’t going to a classic brunch, we were going to a hip brunch. It’s definitely a take-your-mom-for-fun kind of place.

The food there is all served à la carte, and it’s really creative and well done. I liked the smoked salmon a lot, which was homemade; it comes with capers, red onions, toasted brioche and crème fraîche. I remember they had a lot of wonderful juices, too, like fresh grapefruit juice. The beef tartare is delicious, served with crispy potato, hard boiled egg, and fresh herbs. But Convivial is best known for its quiche. It is a very artistic quiche—one inch by one foot long! It’s got leeks, onions, and Gruyère, has a crispy crust and it’s served with a nice fresh salad.

For casual family dinners, backyard BBQs, or camping trips, these Easy Steak Fajitas are always a hit. Cook the veggies in foil packet while the seasoned steak grills alongside. Everything can be assembled ahead, and dinner is ready in 10 minutes!
Tex-Mex is probably the most common recurring cuisine at my house. My wife is a huge Tex-Mex fan, and I find it easy to make. These grilled steak fajitas are a step up from your classic taco night, but they aren’t necessarily harder to make.

Just cook the veggies in a foil packet and grill the steak alongside — dinner is ready in 10 minutes!

My kids are usually good with steak and tacos, so I figured this would be an easy win at my house. Of course, the trick is to master the serving of the dinner—not the dinner itself!
WHAT’S THE BEST STEAK FOR FAJITAS?
You can use almost any steak for fajitas. Skirt steak or flank steak are both popular choices. On this day, I actually used a strip steak, which is a little fancier than need be, but of course, it was delicious. I would shy away from any steak that is more than one inch thick though, as thinner is better for fajitas.

I like to cook the veggies in a foil packet because you can assemble it in advance and just toss them on a hot grill when you’re ready. You can even make individual foil vegetable packets—spicy for the adults and mild for the kids!

Together with the grilled steak, this meal is so easy and you can feed your family or a few friends without too much work. This also transports beautifully and is great for camping trips.

With that in mind, you can definitely assemble everything up to a day in advance with no worries. Toss the packet and the steak on a hot grill and you will be in really good shape!

To assemble the foil packet two days in advance, follow these steps:

Make the spice mix (you can do this weeks in advance).
Slice peppers and onions, season and wrap them in the foil packet.
Season the steak, cover it, and keep it in the fridge.
Grill when ready!

Steak Diane is the retro-cool steak you need in your life right now. This was the best steak I’ve had in a long while. I make and eat a lot of steaks, but for some reason I never thought to make Steak Diane. It blew me away with how good it was. It’s going to be in our weekly rotation for a long time.

If you love steak with mushroom sauce or peppercorn sauce, you’ll love Steak Diane. It’s hampered with a stodgy old name but it’s out of this world delicious and always impressive. It’s the perfect steak for a special occasion or a date night when you want to impress someone. There are no subtle flavors here. It’s smoky, mushroom-y, and deeply meaty. It’s just over the top everything, in a good way.
The perfect special occasion steak
While many people adhere to the adage that steak only needs salt and pepper, there’s no denying that just salt and pepper can be expensive to pull off, especially for a special occasion. It shows off your cooking talent to cook the steak just right, but it’s also a large part just buying the most expensive steak you can afford.

For me personally, it’s also a little boring: I go to steak houses and bistros to experience what they can do with peppercorn, roquefort, compound butters, or stuff like that mystery sauce they serve at le Relais de L’Entrecôte, and I’d like to do the same when doing special occasion meals at home.

Cast iron: the best pan for steaks
Make this in a large cast iron skillet if you have one. Not only will the crust on your steak be unbeatable, but the sheer weight and heat retention of the pan make for a better sauce when you’re adding cold cream or beef stock. If you don’t have a cast iron pan (they’re pretty cheap) any pan will do, but try to avoid non-stick if you can. The high heat isn’t good for your non stick coating, and you won’t get much of a sear.

The importance of a meat thermometer
A meat thermometer is essential. That old adage about the feel of your ear or touching your thumbs to fingers? Not for important cuts of meat, in my opinion. I recommend an oven probe for steak; one that beeps when the target temp is hit. They can be really cheap, extremely expensive wireless app driven, or something in between. When given that option, I always go with really cheap. If you have an instant read or thermocouple style, be sure to check often that the steak doesn’t get overcooked.

For a quick and easy reference, steaks are roughly done at:

Rare: 125ºF
Medium-rare: 135ºF
Medium: 145ºF
Medium-well: 155ºF

Steak Diane
Ingredients

2-4 tbsp oil high heat, such as grapeseed
2 steaks ribeye preferred, 8oz each
1 shallot finely minced
5 oz mushrooms cleaned and sliced
2 tbsp butter
4 cloves garlic crushed
1/2 cup cognac
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp dijon mustard
1/2 cup beef stock
1 cup heavy cream
4 sprigs fresh thyme plus more for garnish
Special Equipment
cast iron skillet

Instructions
Preheat your oven to 425ºF and set aside a baking sheet with a rack. Season steak on both sides and allow it to temper on your countertop while you prep the other ingredients.
Once you have everything prepared, add 2 tbsp oil to a large cast iron skillet over high heat. Once your pan is smoking hot, sear steaks 2 minutes on each side.
Take the skillet off the heat and transfer the steaks to your prepared baking sheet and warm in oven – about 5 mins for rare, 8 min medium rare – then remove and rest.Immediately after the skillet stops smoking, sauté shallots and mushrooms for about 1 minute using the residual heat (see note) of the pan, keeping the shallots moving to prevent burning. Add butter, garlic, and thyme, continuing to keep everything moving until the butter is completely melted, about 1 minute.Bump the heat up to medium, add cognac and reduce, about 1 minute. Flambé if you like.Add Worcestershire, Dijon, beef stock, and cream. Reduce to your preference, roughly 2 minutes.Taste and season, then serve with rested steak, topping with extra thyme.

Steak Diane is a pretty rich sauce, so there’s no need to waste money on a high dollar thick-cut steak or perfect A5 wagyu. But you also can’t go bargain basement because the tough chew isn’t going to go well with that sauce. It meshes best with a tender and slightly thicker cut of meat. My best bet is a middle of the road average priced ribeye or NY strip, or a nicer sirloin.
To flatten or not to flatten
Steak Diane was originally prepared tableside, so the traditional preparation required tenderizing the steak to flatten it. Flattening the steak allowed the waiter or chef to cook the steak to the desired doneness (which was almost always medium or higher back then) quickly and without an oven.

Just for fun, I tried flattening the steak, though with a rolling pin, since we don’t own a meat hammer. The end result was a steak that wasn’t all that much more tender and way less satisfying to eat. I think our modern palate is too used to thicker steaks to appreciate 1/4″ thick cuts of beef these days. I don’t think flattening is a good idea.

Steak Diane is a rich cream-based steak sauce made in the pan with mushrooms, cognac, cream, beef stock, and shallots. It was a popular fine dining tableside preparation back in the 1940s to 1960s era, when fine dining meant “French/continental” and captains and lots of snootiness. The waiter would roll out a cart with all the components needed and prepare the dish right in front of you, as a show, with a final flourishing flambé that always got the attention of the room. It was like the OG Chili’s sizzling fajita.

How to make Steak Diane
Temper your steak and prep your aromatics and sauces.
Sear your steak on each side for 2 minutes, then transfer to a pre-heated 425ºF oven.
Make the pan sauce: add mushrooms and shallots, then butter, thyme, and garlic.
Add cognac. Flambé, if you want to (more on that below).
Add cream, Worcestershire, Dijon, and beef stock.
Top the steak with the sauce and enjoy!
Steak Diane still lets you demonstrate your steak skills – the salting, peppering, deep crusty sear, getting that steak done just right – while also showing off a little with a super fast, super rich, super tasty sauce that’s way more than the sum of its parts, all in the 6-8 minutes it takes to get a steak up to rare.