“We’re the only Indian restaurant to ever have charcoal tandoors in our kitchen in Manhattan,” declares executive Chef Karan Mittal of Ambassador’s Clubhouse in a video published by Eater in May.

Cooks flutter around the kitchen’s tandoors: waist-high, cylindrical clay ovens in metal cases, meant for sticking in meat skewers, or slapping naan on the walls. At their bottom glows red-hot charcoal, which bake, grill, griddle, and smoke in an earthy concert. Mr. Mittal stresses that charcoal tandoor flavor is non-negotiable to the culture of Punjab, the northern Indian state. These days, most restaurant tandoors in New York run on clean-burning gas instead.

The glitzy Ambassador’s Clubhouse arrived in NYC earlier this year, a second to its original in London. There is allegedly a 12,000+ person waitlist; headlines brandish it “one of the hardest reservations in New York.” The restaurant is no underdog: a $100+ million hospitality group backs their claim of pioneering charcoal singularity in Manhattan.

But I’m hearing a different story about charcoal tandoors sitting in Rego Park, at Tandoor Restaurant. Opened in 1989, it’s one of New York City’s oldest, still-operating Indian eateries. Across white tablecloth from me is the spry Vinnie Kumar, Tandoor Restaurant’s original and current owner (who laughed when I asked for his age).

“I came here in 1976 from New Delhi,” Mr. Kumar reminisces, looking out the window. “Back in those days, every restaurant in New York was charcoal.”

“Oh my God! I remember Gaylord restaurant on 58th Street…with a glass window for their tandoor. Line outside at 5 o’clock. LINE!” he emphasizes, flinging his arms towards the end of the block.

Gaylord’s 1974-opened Midtown East outpost was a franchise from New Delhi, steps from Central Park. And they weren’t the only Indian restaurant showing off their tandoor like a zoo animal to gawking New Yorkers of the 70’s, who were curious what this “igloo-shaped,” charcoal-heated oven could make.

A year later and a few blocks south came the spot Tandoor (not to be confused with Mr. Kumar’s later Queens joint), “put[ting] on a floor show behind a glass wall.” On the Upper West Side that same year came Indian Oven, whose owner fondly called their “glass enclosed kitchen…a total performance drama.”

These three mid-seventies-born spots with glassed spectacle seem to be amongst the earliest charcoal-powered tandoors in Manhattan restaurants. All have since closed.

The rise of tandoors in NYC was thanks to charcoal

Clay ovens in the northern Indian subcontinent can be traced back almost 5 millenia, burning wood, charcoal, even dung. However, tandoors in restaurant kitchens are pretty cosmopolitan.

What’s considered to be the first Indian restaurant in New York City opened in 1913. Ceylon India Inn was near Times Square, brought to life by a Sri Lankan immigrant. There didn’t seem to be a tandoor in his kitchen at the start; he served rice and curries closer to Sri Lankan and southern Indian fare.

Only after the late 1940s did “tandoori chicken” become a buzzword on Indian menus. Freshly independent India’s new northwestern border with Pakistan forcibly split the region of Punjab in half, and many Punjabis were pushed to the Indian capital city, New Delhi. Here spawned famed restaurants like Moti Mahal (1947) and Bukhara (1977), who popularized à la minute, char-kissed skewers and breads for urbanites drawn to rustic, “frontier-style” cooking.

The tandoor craze then hit New York City. First came ‘tandoori’ spice blends that mimicked clay-charcoal oven flavor without the actual ovens. Then came drum-shaped clay vessels: critically, shipped empty and efficiently from India, easily filled with charcoal stateside. New Delhi cooks trained on charcoal tandoors immigrated to staff Manhattan kitchens. By the late 70s, charcoal tandoori chicken and naan were “typical” of and almost interchangeable with the word ‘Indian’ in New York, dotting numerous menus. Even Ceylon India Inn, by this time sold to and renamed by a Bengali family, added the earthen oven to their repertoire.

When imported tandoors cracked during transit and daily use, the restaurant Indian Oven called upon Manhattan-based ceramicist, Ron Levy, to craft unglazed, barrel-shaped vessels that could house charcoal. He succeeded. Word spread through the restaurant community of Mr. Levy’s quality; by 1989, he became “the leading manufacturer of tandoor ovens in America.”

What happened to NYC’s charcoal tandoors?

Most commercial tandoors sold now, including those from Mr. Levy’s legacy business, Homdoor, are inset with a propane burner. A sales representative of the company told me that he’s not in touch with any New York restaurants still using charcoal tandoors in their kitchens.

A different representative from Tandoor Morni -- one of the first manufacturers to achieve North American safety and sanitation certification (known in the industry as CSA & NSF) at the turn of the millennia -- tells me that they only make gas-powered commercial tandoors.

Mr. Kumar, the vibrant owner of Tandoor Restaurant, tells me that he switched his kitchen’s tandoors to gas in the mid-90s; indoor charcoal tandoors are nowadays “not possible” and virtually “illegal.” He cites the Smoke Free Act, passed in 1995 to limit indoor public smoking, for shifting how NYC thought about health and the environment. In the past decade, further Air Pollution Control Code has limited multiple kinds of solid-fuel cooking appliances in commercial kitchens, from wood-fired pizza ovens to charbroilers.

Multiple chef-owners I spoke with echoed this same feeling of having their hands tied. Chef Hemant Mathur, who has had a founding hand in almost a dozen tandoor-focused spots around town, explains that there are “strict fire safety regulations, ventilation requirements, exhaust systems, grease management, ash disposal, and multiple approvals from city agencies [the Fire Department, Department of Environmental Protection, Department of Buildings, to name a few]. All of those add cost…gas-fired tandoors became the practical choice.”

Chef Suhrob Mullojonov of the Uzbek restaurant Shashlik House tells me that the price of just the electrostatic precipitator filter -- which goes between the hood and roof exhaust fan, sucking up smoke and particulate matter -- can start at $70,000. Insurance companies will ask charcoal-using restaurants to cover not just their unit, but the entire building, because “charcoal is more hazardous than gas.” When Mr. Mullojonov opened his now-closed location on Cortelyou Road, permitting errors with his charcoal cooking system earned him a $20,000 ticket. Now, having painstakingly learned the systems, he operates one of New York City’s few restaurants with a charcoal tandoor and grill, which he must keep in a separate kitchen area than his gas tandoor. Still, Mr. Mullojonov chooses to cook his delicate samsa pastries in the restaurant’s gas tandoor, which he credits as having steadier flames.

On top of these costs, there’s the hurdle of rent that has to be eaten while work is undergone. Many restaurants don’t have this luxury. Ambassador’s Clubhouse was able to take 9 months to source their charcoal tandoor, attain UL listing (a customized health safety certification), as well as receive licensing for hoods backed up with fire suppression and tracking. A representative for Ambassador’s Clubhouse declined request for comment.

Fortunately, “fuel is only one part of the equation” to Mr. Mathur. An alum of Bukhara’s kitchen in New Delhi who moved to New York in 1994, Mr. Mathur had to make do with the gaseous landscape he was given. He went on to be dubbed “the Yo-Yo Ma of tandoors.” And like him, there are many more tandoor craftspeople who pay attention outside of charcoal: clay wall care, wall-sticking technique, creative ingredients, and on, and on.

It is as evident as ever that our city is full of folks fighting to keep tradition alive while time moves fast.

And the chronicles of these tandoors are part of an ancient story much larger than just South Asia. From Indus civilization, clay ovens to cook bread and meat played telephone with many other cultures: the Irani tanoor, Uzbek tandir, Georgian tone, and more. All genres of tandoor restaurants in New York have colorful histories of how they got their ovens in the first place, navigating charcoal restrictions, and leaving marks on staff forearms. But I’ll save some tales of shared humanity for the next installment of this tandoor rabbit hole.

For now, here are six South Asian tandoor-focused New York restaurants firing tastes honed by history and newly dealt cards.

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“People say it’s hard to do the right thing,” Stephan Madias, owner of Wario’s Beef and Pork, told me during our first interview. “But I think they’re just pieces of s***.” I’d just spent the day in the kitchen with his team. It was 2024, his sandwich shop had been open for 4 years, and not a single member of staff had left or quit.

“Leaders eat last” is Stephan’s guiding principle. But this was all relayed to me over FaceTime. When I decided to film at Wario’s Beef and Pork—on an unplanned but very fulfilling trip to Columbus, Ohio—he was on his first vacation in 8 years. Upon hearing I was interested in filming, he offered to end his vacation early and fly straight back to Columbus. I countered and offered something I never offer: We could do the interview over the phone. The video generated a cool 1.5 million views on Instagram.

But this meant that 2 years later, when Steph picked me up at the airport, it was our first time meeting in real life. I wondered: Has this place that I’ve built up in my mind still as high quality and as earnest as I remember? Do leaders still eat last?

Stephan is a swarthy, bearded gentleman who speaks slowly, in an almost monotonous tone that can be read as sardonic—but is more often sincere—wearing a backwards trucker hat. He’s Greek and Lebanese, but he’s also noticeably from Cleveland. His license plate reads: COLDCUTS. His coffee sits in the cup holder—4 espresso shots over ice that he makes at home. Adding the price of the cup, straw, and lid, he has costed it out at $1.30. Drinking one of these made me see the interconnectedness of all things; Steph seemed to have no reaction.

Over the next 3 days, he drove me and my crew around Columbus, showing us each facet of his business. First, to Goood Friends, led by his collaborator Chef Tyler Minnis. He served us their riff on french fries, called sidewinders, paired with a soft, double-creme burgundy cheese. My editor, Gabriel—normally a remote worker—took a bite and declared he needed to come along on every shoot from then on. Tyler and his team fed us very well.

Then to Matija Breads, the bakery that makes a few hundred “sticks” a day for Wario’s; Steph’s recipe for a semolina hero bread. Owner Matt Swint tacked on a focaccia for us to have at dinner, as we left with the truck full of semolina.

Then to the Hungarian Butcher, where Steph was smoking a lamb for a sandwich special. The Hungarian Butcher himself, Dan Varga, laid out a bunch of charcuterie for me to try: Culatello, duck pastrami, escargot terrine. A gourmet feast had found me, as it often does, in this most unexpected of places.

And finally, to Wario’s itself. The kitchen crew welcomed me back, chiding me for still not having been to Oaxaca, and teaching me their sobrenombres, or nicknames. It felt like a homecoming, even though I was standing in their way as they drizzled housemade cheese-whiz, deep-fried baskets of chicken cutlets, smashed potatoes, and turned out tickets faster than I’ve seen any other kitchen do.

One man, Zeferino, greeted me like an old friend. He was on the line last time I was here; now, he’s the Executive Chef of the company. “He was the first employee,” Steph told me. Zeferino has 5 siblings—plus his wife—that work with him at Wario’s.

Everywhere we went, Steph introduced me to his people. “It doesn’t matter what the f*** I know,” he told me. “If I can’t get people to buy in and teach them how to do it, it’s really not worth anything.” Leaders still eat last at Wario’s.

I captured all of this and more, in the first of a biweekly series of long-form videos featuring the chefs, street vendors, and hot dog specialists I’ve long championed on my channel. I know why I chose Columbus Ohio to kick it off. But you’ll have to watch to see:

Below the fold, I’ve included a behind-the-scenes video that we recorded while filming the documentary. I’ve also attached a map of all of my recommendations for Columbus, Ohio. Thanks so much for supporting the channel. Much more to come.

Read more

At People & Food, our goal is to change where folks choose to eat. Away from the chains and VC-backed restaurants that most publications and influencers are covering, and towards the small eateries and mom-and-pop businesses that we all love and want to preserve.

Our list of pop-ups and events is curated with that mission in mind. If you see an event that deserves a mention and aligns with our mission, please drop us a line and we’d be happy to add it.

This will be a monthly column, and we’ll update it as we learn of more events*. Thanks for your support. - Rob, Angela, Sangita and Alexa

New additions to the list are marked with *.

Summer is giving way to fall, and September is shaping up to be an exciting month for food enthusiasts in New York. Our calendars are overflowing with exciting events over Labor Day Weekend — and that’s just the first weekend of the month! Here is a curated list of food events for those who care just as much about the people and culture behind a dish as the food itself.

Not Their First Rodeo…*

The ultra-popular Palestinian arayes pop-up is back for one last weekend. What are arayes? Think a delicious meat-filled pita sandwich originating from Lebanon, and served hot and crispy off the grill at Rodeo in Crown Heights. Get them while they’re hot, and while they last (which won’t be long)!

When: September 18, 6PM—Sold out
Where: Rodeo (📍 1134 President St, Brooklyn, NY 11225, Stati Uniti)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Cơm tấm and Chè*

From Instagram: “Summer is not over until we say it is!!!

Pull up for some cơm tấm and chè! Good food, good people, and an excuse to eat outside before the season changes.”

When: September 19, 1PM—Sold out
Where: Hudson Wilder (📍 142 Plymouth St, Brooklyn, NY 11201, Stati Uniti)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Food Crawl for a Cause*

From Instagram: “We're raising money for Nepali flood relief this New York Climate Week by photowalking through Jackson Heights.

We’ll stop at various Nepali restaurants along the way to sample a variety of Nepali dishes. Join us for an afternoon of street photography and portraiture of us eating momos.”

When: September 20, 3PM
Where: Meet at Threading Place (📍 38-91 82nd St, Elmhurst, NY 11373)
How to Attend: Just pull up. $5 donation suggested.

Cheese Omakase? Sounds Gouda!

12 courses of cheese. Need I say more?

When: September 20, 6PM—9:30PM
Where: Frank’s House (📍 133 Clinton Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11205)
How to Attend: RSVP here.

An Apple a Day…

Because nothing screams fall like apple-picking in the Hudson Valley.

From Instagram: “ORCHARD TOURS ARE BACK!!! Join us for a guided tour of our 2-acre Ancram, New York orchard featuring over 150 rare, unique and historically significant apple varieties. Each ticket includes 5 pounds of apples, picked during the tour. Some of the unique varieties we grow include Pitmaston Pineapple, Kandil Sinap, Black Oxford, Hidden Rose, Niedzwetzkyana, Sweet 16, Frostbite, Lincolnville Russet, Kidd’s Orange Red, Red Devil and Garden Royal.”

When: Saturdays in September, 2PM
Where: Hudson Valley Apple Project (📍 1066 County Rte 27a, Ancram, NY 12502)
How to Attend: Book your orchard tour here.

That’s it for now. We will be adding more events to this list throughout the month so be sure to subscribe and follow us on Instagram so you never miss an update!

Here are the past events we covered. If you were subscribed to our newsletter, you would have heard about them before they happened 👀

A Rare Chance to Eat Lao Food in NYC

There is a dearth of Lao restaurants in New York City, but once a month, a lovely couple drives up from Virginia to visit their daughter, and the family invites you to the table to feast. I had the chance to try the bright, zesty flavors of Tham Mak Hoong (Lao papaya salad) and the spicy smokiness of the handmade Sai Oua (Lao herbal beef sausage), and can’t wait to go back! - Angela

When: September 4, 5PM—10PM; September 5 & 6, 2PM—8PM
Where: Lise & Vito (📍 126A Nassau Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11222)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Astoria’s First Ever Brasil Fest

31st Ave Open Street, Astoria’s volunteer-run public space on 31st Ave from 33rd to 35th Street, will be hosting its first ever Brazilian Independence Day Festival with vendors selling traditional foods and artisanal goods from across Brazil.

When: September 5, 2PM—7PM
Where: 31st Ave Open Street (📍 34-02 31st Ave, Astoria, NY 11106)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Seafood and Sungolds

Burnt Orange Honey is launching a brand new supper club in collaboration with Chef Dan Mollitor, and “Italian comfort foods with a fine dining edge” are on the menu. From Instagram: “It’ll be a beautiful bon voyage to summer and celebration of a very special ingredient”

Five courses. BYOB. Somewhere in Fort Greene.

When: September 4, 7:30PM—10PM
Where: Location TBD (somewhere in Fort Greene)
How to Attend: Get your tickets here

Can I get a Chinese Cheeseburger?

From Instagram: “Mr. Jong was born as a homage to the lowkey brilliance of Americanized Chinese fast food - our ancestors adapted flavors of homeland to an American palate - and built homes then families then stability for the next generations to flourish (thats us!). What better vehicle to show this off than a mf Chinese Cheeseburger???”

When: September 4, 4PM—10PM (or sold out!)
Where: Little Island (📍 Pier 55 at Hudson River Park, Hudson River Greenway, New York, NY 10014)
How to Attend: RSVP here for event updates

¡Carne Asada y Pachanga!

Our favorite nixtamalized tortilla taqueria is popping up and popping off at Upstate kombucha shop Yesfolk. From Instagram: “They’ll be keeping the kombucha flowing, we’ll be keeping the tacos coming, and trust us when we say the two make a pretty damn good pair.”

Read more about Los Hermosos, one of very few molinos in New York in Alexa’s article below, and then go taste their tortillas made from fresh corn masa for yourself!

When: September 5, 4PM—7PM (or sold out)
Where: Yesfolk Tonics (📍 1467 5th Ave, Troy, NY 12180)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

A New Bodega is Born

Bánh xèo. Viet coffee. Bánh bò. Need we say more?

When: September 5 & 6, 11AM—4PM
Where: 📍 117 Grattan St, Brooklyn, NY 11237
How to Attend: RSVP here.

Un Verano en Nueva Yolk

I’ll never forget the first time I tried lucuma at a local market in Lima. I had never experienced such a rich flavor and custardy texture in a fruit before. It makes perfect sense as a frozen treat, and Pri Aguilar has captured its essence beautifully with their ice cream brand Nueva Yolk, which honors the flavors of the LATAM + Carribean diaspora.

Their first drop also features the flavors of charred summer corn and huacatay, a fragrant Peruvian herb also known as black mint. - Angela

When: September 6, 12PM—4PM
Where: Nimbus (📍 383 Bridge St, Brooklyn, NY 11201)
How to Attend: Reserve here.

Little Island, Big Names in Baking

Some of the city’s biggest names in baking are participating in Our Little Bake Sale, a fundraiser hosted by pastry chef Natasha Pickowicz. All proceeds from the bake sale go directly to Make The Road NY, a Queens-based non-profit that builds the power of immigrant and working class communities across NYC.

When: September 6, 3PM—5PM
Where: Little Island (📍 Pier 55 at Hudson River Park, Hudson River Greenway, New York, NY 10014)
How to Attend: Buy your tickets here. One $10 ticket = one baked good.

From Bengal to Brooklyn

This Labor Day weekend, celebrate Bengal at Barzakh, from Bangladeshi barbecue to a documentary screening of a dream called khushi about the Rohingya exodus to a performance to a live performance by local band Teentara featuring a guest sitarist. Nostalgic snacks served throughout the evening!

When: September 6, 2PM—8PM
Where: Barzakh Cafe (📍 147 Utica Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11213)
How to Attend: RSVP here.

Palestinian BBQ for the Olive Harvest

From Instagram “We are throwing a good ole fashioned Palestinian-Lebanese mashawi cookout! All proceeds supporting @faz3a_pal’s efforts during the upcoming olive harvest in Palestine.”

When: September 7, 2PM—Sold out
Where: Sauced (📍 331 Bedford Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Black Tradition Meets Kashmiri Flavor

From Instagram: “in my family, we love us a summer cookout. and what better way to pay homage to my heritage than to remix a few cookout and wazwan classics?”

When: September 7, 5PM—9PM
Where: Wadadli (📍 419 Putnam Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216)
How to Attend: RSVP here.

Korean x Filipino Kamayan

For one night, Chef Anton Dayrit of Tradicionale and Chef Jae Lee of Nowon are coming together to bring the culinary traditions of their respective cultures to the table, creating a true fusion of flavors served Kamayan-style.

When: September 9, 5PM
Where: Tradicionale (📍 156 9th Ave, New York, NY 10011)
How to Attend: RSVP here.

Royal Bengal Motor Club & Friends

From Instagram: “RBMC is extremely honored to present our all Bengali all star vendors for our first ever pop up. With Bengali snacks, desserts, drinks, clothing Henna, jewelry, and prints all done by Bengali artists. And a suprise fusion Bengali Onigiri with our good friends from @myrtlewombat and @stovetopsaj”

When: September 12, 1PM—6PM
Where: Myrtle Wombat (📍 581 Myrtle Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11205)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Cookies from “The Town of Tea”

Ceon, a baker from Nishio, Japan is popping up at Land to Sea for one day only. Nishio is famously known as “the town of tea,” and Ceon is bringing that heritage to Brooklyn with a lineup of cookies featuring specialty matcha sourced straight from home.

When: September 12, 11AM—1PM
Where: Land To Sea (📍 402 Graham Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211 )
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Summer’s Never Over

at Lise & Vito, where Chef Agness Kim, sous chef at Sunn’s, is popping up with Korean takes on classic dishes that celebrate the last of summer. Kimchi & Spam mac salad, Shin ramyun hot chicken sandwich, honey poached pear, and more are on the menu!

When: September 12, 5PM—Sold out
Where: Lise & Vito (📍 126A Nassau Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11222)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

A Momo Crawl and an Urgent Plea

Jackson Heights’ annual momo crawl is back for its 14th year with over 30 Tibetan and Nepali vendors serving $1 momo samples.

On a more somber note, the organizers have recently put out a call for donations to the Tibet-Nepal Border Relief efforts following the devastating landslide and floods in the region. Please consider contributing to the relief drive here.

When: September 13, 12PM—5PM
Where: Diversity Plaza (📍 73-19 37th Rd, Jackson Heights, NY 11372)
How to Attend: Get your passport here.

It’s Paw Paw Time

From Instagram: “If you’ve been curious to try this incredible native fruit… or if you already love them and want more…now is your chance. Our two trees are bursting with fruit and dropping ripe treats every day! We have more than enough to share and would love for you to have some.”

When: September 13, 2PM—6PM
Where: El Garden (📍 118 Jefferson St, Brooklyn, NY 11206)
How to Attend: Free RSVP here ($5 suggested donation)

Funky Laziza Lebanese Cookout

From Instagram: “Come join us for our first Lebanese Cookout on Sept 13th, from 3pm - 10pm. Expect charcoal grilled spit roasted lamb, yoghurt marinated chicken wings, and the usual suspects of falafel, funk, fries and good times from Laziza… This is what family is about and what us Lebanese kids will remember about our childhood. Family, Friends, Music and most definitely, Good Food.”

When: September 13, 3PM—10PM
Where: Laziza (📍 306A Malcolm X Blvd, Brooklyn, NY 11233)
How to Attend: Free RSVP here

I needed a burger. But all the ones near me are smashed, or just near to it.

Smash burgers falls in the “want” category for me. Sometimes I want a double garlic smash from Milk Burger. Sometimes I want to walk into Rolo’s right at 5, get my seat at the bar, get a cocktail, and order the famous burger with the dijonnaise and the long-hot. Sometimes, even, I want a Shake Shack. Usually when I’m at JFK.

But when I need a burger, those just won’t do. So I went to Donovan’s Pub.

It’s insane that I’d never been to Donovan’s. When I first moved to New York, I spent most of my weekend nights boozing and eating curry fries at Molly Bloom’s in nearby Sunnyside. Donovan’s is like a Chekhov’s gun that has finally gone off, and it shot me directly in the fucking heart.

I admit I went in with skepticism. I don’t rate Minetta Tavern’s burger very highly. Corner Bistro isn’t a favorite of mine. Joe Jr. has sadly taken a turn for the worse. Those bigger, juicier grilled burgers just seem to have some unpredictability. When Johnny Novo began his burger series, I sent him my burger starting 5, to give you an idea of my taste:

Read more

“OMG. We need to go!” and “Should we make a reservation?” glowed brightly on my screen after Lucas Sin and Camden Hauge announced their first Lok Kee pop-up this summer. I’m lucky I acted fast, as it sold out within days.

Lucas and Camden’s reputations precede them. Lucas, a Hong Kong native, chef, and James Beard-award winning video host, and Camden, the entrepreneur behind China Wine Club and Shanghai-based Happy Place Hospitality Group, are the husband-and-wife duo behind Lok Kee, a modern take on the 1950s-style cha chaan teng.

“Lok Kee is a cha chaan teng—my favorite type of restaurant in the world. I’ve been thinking about it for a good amount of time now,” Lucas shared. “My hope is to open a cha chaan teng in New York City… [it] is currently manifesting as a pop-up, but we’re working towards that goal.”

Cha chaan tengs are Hong Kong’s casual tea cafes, blending Cantonese cuisine with external influences. “It is an internalization by Hong Kong people for Hong Kong people of the many influences that came into Hong Kong, whether that’s from British colonial history, Southeast Asian trade, or just contemporary things that Hong Kong people are interested in,” Lucas explained.

NYC has seen a rise in their popularity recently, but some establishments in Manhattan’s Chinatown, like M Star and S Wan, have been around for over two decades. The Western influence is apparent in offerings like Hong Kong-style French toast, macaroni soup, or scrambled eggs and toast. Traditionally, though, they’re in a league of their own, with robust menus of over 100 options to choose from.

There are potential plans to take over the pop-up’s current location, M Star, which has been in the neighborhood since 2003. But the official opening dates are fuzzy.

“The future of Lok Kee is undetermined,” Lucas explained. “This is one of these more delicate types of situations that is a little bit more complex—not like we’re building a restaurant from scratch, right? So when it comes to inheriting a restaurant or even building a restaurant that already exists in a community, the timeline is a little bit nebulous.”

Although Lok Kee is in its early stages, I wanted to share some observations from a very exciting meal I had there last Friday. This was not a comped meal or invitation.

Read more

It’s quiet at first. But a few sips in, this tea begins to taste like chocolate.

Unmistakably, I’m drinking hot chocolate, the kind thick and ripe from a semisweet bar and not much else. I’m in middle school, unwrapping a truffle from the jar on my teacher’s desk, letting it melt on my tongue, not another thought in my head. I’m blistering on a cacao farm on the equator, chewing a dark, fruity nib, smelling trees and earth and 2016.

But really, I’m in a tucked-away tea counter in Nolita, of all places. It’s a rainy Monday, and I’m trying Korean hwangcha.

“It’s fun,” chuckles Hyun Lee, co-owner of T Shop.

Lee and I are sitting low and close, across the shop’s wooden, four-seat counter, nestled in our own, tiny, cabin-like world. She sets out what look like pine needles, if they changed color in autumn, onto a celadon dish. Nimbly rolled, these are tea leaves from Hadong, the sandy, southern coastal county of South Korea.

With hot water, the leaves go into a thin-walled, lidded porcelain bowl. Soon, strained into glass, the brew reveals itself. Lee pours me most of the buttery, yolk-colored steep — almost fatty and meaty — and also a bit for herself, in a Ferrero Rocher-sized teacup. We’re sipping. And because we’re sipping, our cheeks are smiling at each other, on their own accord. In deft choreography, Lee brews once, then twice, and then I realize we’ve drunk the chocolatey leaves four (or is it six?) times. I see the caffeine and her ambient bossa nova radio dancing samba together in front of me, and then I feel their rhythm throughout my body, from my cheeks doing their own silly, awkward thing, to my gut warming up and greeting its friends, to my fingertips entering an uncontrollable jazz hand state of mind. Now, we’re all dancing together. I am gleefully, undoubtedly, colorfully tea drunk. Is this even tea?

New York City has a plethora of thoughtful places to drink loose-leaf brews and boba hailing from China and Taiwan, as well as matcha from Japan. But T Shop is one of only a few shops in the city serving Korean teas: a genre that is much less talked about, and one that evades neat definition.

Read more

At People & Food, our goal is to change where folks choose to eat. Away from the chains and VC-backed restaurants that most publications and influencers are covering, and towards the small eateries and mom-and-pop businesses that we all love and want to preserve.

Our list of pop-ups and events is curated with that mission in mind. If you see an event that deserves a mention and aligns with our mission, please drop us a line and we’d be happy to add it.

This will be a monthly column, and we’ll update it as we learn of more events. Thanks for your support. - Rob, Angela, Sangita and Alexa

It’s officially August in New York and our calendar is popping off with exciting openings, pop-ups, parties, and festivals! With so much going on, it’s easy to get overwhelmed with figuring out what to eat and who to meet.

That’s why we’ve compiled a curated list of food events for those who care just as much about the people and culture behind a dish as the food itself.

NYC’s Next Big Cantonese Restaurant (Continues to) Pops Up

For the entire month of August, you can try Manhattan’s newest cha chaan teng from Chef Lucas Sin: Lok Kee. Lucas is a Hong Kong-born chef and outspoken champion of Cantonese cuisine; his upcoming book is literally called Cha Chaan Teng and pays homage to the comfort food from Hong Kong’s iconic diners.

Lok Kee is only popping up for dinner for right now, and taking reservations via DM.

When: Thursdays—Saturdays in August
Where: M Star Cafe (📍 19 Division St #1, New York, NY 10002).
How to Attend: DM @lokkee.nyc to reserve!

ACHG Kitchen x Uncle’s Thai Food Ice Cream Party

When: August 1, 2026, 12PM—sold out
Where: FF&E (📍 109 Montrose Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11206)
How to Attend: Just pull up. More info and flyer here.

Back-to-Back Cultural Celebrations in Poughkeepsie

The Hudson Valley Caribbean Festival and the Oaxacan La Guelaguetza Festival are running on the same weekend in Poughkeepsie. Combine either festival with a tour of Oaxakeepsie — use Alexa’s guide here.

The Hudson Valley Caribbean Festival
When: August 1, 2026, 12PM—8PM
Where: Waryas Park (📍 Poughkeepsie, NY 12601)
How to Attend: Free tickets here!

La Guelaguetza Festival
When: August 2, 2026, 12PM—7PM
Where: Waryas Park (📍 Poughkeepsie, NY 12601)
How to Attend: You can just turn up. Full info here.

A Native American Frybread Pop-Up Debuts in Bushwick

From Reddit: “My name is Raini and I’m a member of the Lakota tribe. I realized theres been a gap in indigenous foods available so I decided to start my own frybread stand! Complete with toppings such as honey, powdered sugar, and three different types of jelly!”

When: August 2, 2026, 12PM—sold out
Where: Maria Hernandez Park (📍 Brooklyn, NY 11237)
How to Attend: Check their Instagram for full details.

Limited Chamorro Food Drops on the Border of Brooklyn and Queens

Our friends over at Taste Buds featured Pacific Fried last month. He specializes in Chamorro food (a foodway that Julian Mu stumbled upon in the Portland, Oregon episode of Martinez and Mu).

When: August 2, 2026, 6PM—8PM
Where: On the corner of Wyckoff Ave and Putnam Ave (📍 Brooklyn, NY 11385)
How to Attend: He is highly encouraging pre-orders. Instructions here.

A Danish Cookie Tin With Actual Food in it!

But it’s still not Danish cookies.

Join Sewing Tin for a “supper club experience that blends South Asian flavors with with modern cooking techniques, pushing the boundaries of contemporary cuisine while staying rooted in nostalgia.” Inspired by the iconic blue Danish butter cookies container that many immigrant families have adapted into a sewing tin.

When: August 2, 2026, 6:30 PM—10:30 PM
Where: Maxwell Tribeca (📍 135 Watts St, New York, NY 10013)
How to Attend: Book your tickets here.

A Study in Shellfish

Atelier Vivi, normally a culinary school for kids, is teaming up with Aqua Best, Chinatown’s family-run fishmonger known for sourcing straight from fishermen, to host their first tasting and cooking workshop for adults! Whip up mignonette from scratch, get a chowder simmering, and then let the expert from Aqua Best guide you through a fun tasting of oysters and clams.

When: August 4, 2026, 6:30PM—8:30PM
Where: Place des Fêtes (📍 212 Greene Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11238)
How to Attend: Reserve your spot here.

Another Pop-Up for Seafood Lovers

From Baja California, México to Lima, Peru. Coming soon to both sides of the East River.

Baby Oyster @ Babysips
When: August 4, 2026, 6PM—9PM
Where: BabySips (📍 176 Rivington St, New York, NY 10002)
How to Attend: Just pull up. More info and flyer here.

Baby Oyster @ Lise & Vito
When: August 9, 2026, 4 PM—sold out
Where: Lise & Vito (📍 126A Nassau Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11222)
How to Attend: Just pull up. More info and flyer here.

Malaysian-Inspired Detroit-Style Pizza

Experience Detroit pizza like never before, starring laksa-inspired coconut curry + sliced fish ball and roti canai-inspired coconut curry + potato. Grab a slice, grab a beer, and enjoy the concerts happening across the street at @culturelablic!

When: August 8, 2026, 2PM—6PM
Where: Rockaway Brewing Company (📍 46-01 5th St, Long Island City, NY 11101)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

A Pop-Up Taqueria with Nixtamalized Tortillas in the Capital District

We’ve mentioned Los Hermosos before in our round-up of authentic tortillerias in New York State. Now there’s two opportunities for you to try them out.

Los Hermosos At Wolf Hollow Brewing
When: August 1, 2026, 5PM—8PM (or until sold out)
Where: Wolf Hollow Brewing Co (📍 6882 Amsterdam Rd, Schenectady, NY 12302)
How to Attend: Check their Instagram for full details.

Los Hermosos At Nine Pin Cider Works
When: August 8, 2026, 5PM—7PM (or until sold out)
Where: Nine Pin Cider Works (📍 929 Broadway, Albany, NY 12207)
How to Attend: Check their Instagram for full details.

For Example: A Summer Bakery

When: August 9, 2026, 11AM—2PM
Where: Land To Sea (📍 402 Graham Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211 )
How to Attend: Just pull up.

A Vietnamese Cookout in Williamsburg

Cơm tấm (broken rice) is the star of this pop up by Ăn Xôi at Pete’s Candy Store. Read Angela’s article about the team behind this Vietnamese pop up, as well sister brand Vân Vân, and then check out this backyard cookout!

When: August 15, 2026, 4PM—Sold out
Where: Pete’s Candy Store (📍 709 Lorimer St, Brooklyn, NY 11211)
How to Attend: Preorder here.

“Sagra Del Pomodoro” Tomato Celebration

Join Edgemere Farm Works for an all-day, hands-on tomato sauce jarring event celebrating Italian heritage, family, friendship, and community. Each participant will receive one 16oz jar of tomato sauce as a thank you. Molto bene!

When: August 16, 2026, 9AM—12PM and 12—3PM
Where: Edgemere Farm (📍 3-85 B 45 St, Far Rockaway, NY 11691)
How to Attend: Free to attend with RSVP.

No. 1 Old Bay Taste Takes Ridgewood

From @minimartnyc: “@sholtesy aka NO 1 OLD BAY TASTE is coming with the heat Sunday 8/16 12pm. Chicken fried steak sandwich?! Hush puppies & crab cakes?! A collab breakfast burrito?! Come hungry, it will be dynamite!”

When: August 16, 2026, 12PM—Sold out
Where: Mama Yoshi Mini Mart (📍 17-11 Grove St, Queens, NY 11385)
How to Attend: Just pull up. Cash only.

Get Your Filipino Flavor Fix

From Instagram: “We’re bringing fresh Filipino ensaymada pastries in flavors like mango, buko pandan, ube halaya, calamansi, macapuno—and that’s just the sweet side. Enjoy NYC’s best pandesal rolls, baked fresh.”

When: August 16, 2026, 1PM—5PM
Where: Kings County Brewers Collective (📍 381 Troutman St, Brooklyn, NY 11237)
How to Attend: Preorder here.

Vietnamese Tea Tasting in Chinatown

When: August 16, 2026, 2PM—4PM
Where: 📍 7th Floor, 27 E Broadway, New York, NY 10002
How to Attend: Just pull up.

A Celebration of one of Hanoi’s Most Iconic Dishes

From Instagram: “Running it back with one of Hanoi’s most iconic dishes: Chả Cá Lã Vọng. A meal built around all the little details we love: from mắm tôm sourced from Thanh Hóa & our house made mẻ (fermented rice), to an unapologetic amount of fresh dill & scallions. [It’s] not an Andy pop up in NYC w/o his caramelized fish sauce wings ofc…”

When: August 18, 2026, 5PM—9PM
Where: Mắm (📍 70 Forsyth St, New York, NY 10002)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Sushi Somewhere in Brooklyn

Tokyo Sushi Academy alums are coming fresh from sushi school and straight to Greenpoint to serve a variety of seafood dishes, including tuna tostada, a nigiri sampler, and kaisen maki. And if that’s not enough of a treat, they’re serving ice cream sandwiches for dessert!

When: August 21, 5:30PM—Sold out
Where: Lise & Vito (📍 126A Nassau Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11222)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

Bridging Heaven and Earth with Ice Cream

From Kaya Toast to Malted Toasted Rice to Black Sesame Cookies & Cream, Nine Treasures Creamery’s latest drop is “bridging heaven & earth with ice cream 🍨”.

Nine Treasures Creamery @ Upstate Stock
When: August 22, 2026, 1PM—4PM
Where: Upstate Stock (📍 2 Berry St, Brooklyn, NY 11249)
How to Attend: Reserve here.

Nine Treasures Creamery @ Threes Brewing
When: August 23, 2026, 1PM—3PM
Where: Threes Brewing (📍 333 Douglass St, Brooklyn, NY 11217)
How to Attend: Reserve here.

Summer Tea in Prospect Park

From Instagram: “This year marks our 8th Summer Tea @prospect_park since 2019! 🍵🌿

In this time of change, arts and culture in our communities are where we continue to find inspiration and meaning.”

When: August 23, 2026, 11AM—3PM
Where: Prospect Park (📍 Brooklyn, NY)
How to Attend: Free to attend. RSVP required.

Try the Sour Candy of the Melon World

The Bonny Melon is a rare Taiwanese cultivar, prized for its sweet-sour flavor and climate resilience. For one day only, cool off with freshly sliced bonnies from @natoora_northamerica.

From Instagram: “Here at Yun Hai, we love to champion Taiwanese agriculture and traditional foods. Our interest isn’t only what’s happening in Taiwan, but how Taiwanese growers and agriculturalists make waves in our world. This melon is one of those ways.”

When: August 23, 2026, 12PM—3PM
Where: Yun Hai Shop (📍 170 Montrose Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11206)
How to Attend: Just pull up.

The Dusky Kitchen x Hana Makgeolli Dessert Pop-up

James Beard Award-winning author Abi Balingit is popping up at Hana Makgeolli with Filipino- x Korean-inspired takes on citrus olive oil cake, cantaloupe granita, and tiramisu (including makgeolli, of course).

When: August 23, 2026, 2PM—6:30PM
Where: Hana Makgeolli Brewery & Tasting Room (📍 201 Dupont St, Brooklyn, NY 11222 )
How to Attend: Reserve here.

🌠 Cẩm Release Party with Sông Cái at Lai Rai 🌠

From Instagram: “Sông Cái is a distillery, winery, and fermentation lab located in Hà Nội with a mission to tell a story of Vietnam’s places, people, and cultures by highlighting the country’s heirloom and native ingredients 🇻🇳.”

They’re joining the fine folks at Lai Rai to celebrate the release of their new sweet purple rice wine ‘Cẩm’, and you can try it too!

When: August 24, 2026, 6PM—10PM
Where: Lai Rai (📍 76 Forsyth St, New York, NY 10002 )
How to Attend: Just pull up.

An Evening with Dame Grace Young in Chinatown

Grace Young is a Chinatown advocate who has been featured on Rob’s channel. She’ll be joined by Grand Tea Imports — also featured by Rob — at Hop Lee… also featured by Rob. (Grace helped Rob produce his Chinatown series).

When: August 25, 2026, 6:30PM—8:30PM
Where: Hop Lee Restaurant (📍 16 Mott St, New York, NY 10013)
How to Attend: Buy tickets here.

Running it Back in Chinatown

Last month, the beginner-friendly Welcome to Chinatown Run Club officially hit the pavement, jogging three mile through Chinatown while discovering local small businesses, such as Double Crispy Bakery. And soon they’ll be running it back, so stay tuned for the event flyer.

When: August 26, 2026, 6PM
Where: Welcome to Chinatown HUB (📍 115 Bowery, New York, NY 10002)
How to Attend: Free to attend. RSVP required.

A Rare Taste of Burmese Cuisine in Williamsburg

You don’t have to go to all the way to Bay Ridge to taste Burmese food in Brooklyn, because Baby Lay Kitchen is popping up at Land To Sea.

When: August 28, 2026, 4PM—7PM
Where: Land To Sea (📍 402 Graham Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211 )
How to Attend: Just pull up.

An End of Summer Fling

Presented by Interwoven Collective: “This will be our very first night market, bringing together an incredible group of vendors, artists, and small businesses for one unforgettable night in Chinatown to end the summer off right!”

When: August 29, 2026, 5PM—10PM
Where: Welcome to Chinatown HUB (📍 115 Bowery, New York, NY 10002)
How to Attend: Free entry. RSVP for a free raffle ticket.

Hồng Dao Dinner Club

From Instagram: “Southern and Vietnamese cuisine share roots in innovation and making something amazing out of (almost) nothing… we’re excited to experiment with the fusion of these two vibrant traditions and share the results with you!”

When: August 29, 2026, 6PM
Where: Greenpoint (📍 exact location is shared once a ticket is purchased)
How to Attend: Reserve your spot here.

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When I arrived at G’s Coffee Shop early on a Sunday morning, the diner was already packed. Located in Manhattan’s northernmost neighborhood, Inwood, the tiny shop has become surprisingly popular after topping seemingly every list of New York’s best breakfast burritos.

I squeezed inside to place my order before waiting on the sidewalk, listening for my name over the buzz of the chaotic crowd.

I grew up on the border of El Paso, Texas, and Ciudad Juaréz, Chihuahua, where burritos are eaten for breakfast every day. But this was unlike any burrito I had grown up with: a behemoth, layered with egg, homefries (we don’t have those in Texas), cheddar cheese, avocado, and chorizo. It must have weighed at least a pound.

I took a bite. It couldn’t be further from what I’d known or expected, but the salsa—one of the make-or-break ingredients for me—was balanced, spicy, and familiar. The eggs were perfectly cooked, the homefries added just enough crunch, and the chorizo tied everything together.

The burrito didn’t taste like home, but the people behind the counter welcomed me like I’d been coming to G’s my whole life. That’s how they are with everyone that walks through the door.

The price of this celebrated, massive breakfast burrito? Just $10.50. If it were up to the Angel family, who have owned G's since 2005, the breakfast burrito would still cost $8.99. As I learned on many subsequent visits, they have always prioritized people over profits.

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Fresh corn masa ground on a volcanic stone. Mole from Oaxaca. Handmade memelas. Papel picado adorning the restaurants. All are familiar to me, but I’m not in Mexico—I’m in Poughkeepsie.

Poughkeepsie, in New York’s Hudson Valley, is an unexpected hub for Oaxacan food and culture. According to a 1995 report, migration began with just one Oaxacan man from the rural community of San Agustín. Now, with much of Poughkeepsie’s Mexican community tracing its roots to the southern state, the city’s Oaxacan identity is impossible to miss.

“The Oaxacan community has made meaningful contributions to the economic growth, culture, and strength of our city,” Poughkeepsie Mayor, Yvonne Flowers shared.

Those contributions become especially apparent to me as I walk along Main Street.

Just four minutes from the train station, I’m greeted at El Azteca by a giant skeleton in a sombrero. From there, my walk unfolds past family-owned Oaxacan restaurants, a super market stocked with all sorts of dried chiles and other Mexican staples, and storefronts displaying signs that read ENVÍA tu DINERO (“send your money”) in bold print. Those remittances reflect the close ties many residents maintain with family in Mexico—they ultimately reflect 10.3% of Oaxaca’s GDP.

All around me, bits of “Oaxakeepsie” are on full display, existing in a space beyond borders.

“I have spent 25 years here,” says Belen Martinez, owner of Cocina Oaxaqueña. “Both Poughkeepsie and Oaxaca are my home.”

Mariela Lavariega, co-owner of Tortillería Allison, expresses a similar sentiment. “Your roots are wherever God takes you, so I consider both places my home. Poughkeepsie is such a magical place with beautiful, supportive people. People come in with their traditional Oaxacan clothes and immediately they treat you as if they’ve known you for a long time. We welcome everyone with open arms.”

In each business I visit, I see stacked copies of La Voz, a bilingual newsletter produced by Bard College that highlights Hispanic news and culture across the Hudson Valley. While browsing an issue, I learn about Poughkeepsie’s annual Guelaguetza festival—a celebration of Oaxacan heritage featuring local businesses, music, dance, and traditional performances.

The word “Guelaguetza” comes from Zapotec, one of the widely spoken indigenous languages of Oaxaca, and refers to the reciprocal exchange of gifts and services—a reflection of the community-centered values that define the celebration. Originally a pre-Hispanic ceremony honoring Centeótl, the goddess of corn, the festival has evolved into Oaxaca’s most celebrated cultural event. Today, that tradition lives on in Poughkeepsie with the same fervor and pride.

“La Guelaguetza in Poughkeepsie is more than a festival, it’s the living expression of the Oaxacan diaspora in Poughkeepsie and the Hudson Valley,” La Voz’s managing editor, Mariel Fiori, shares. “You feel it in the music, the dances, and especially in the food, from the many Oaxacan restaurants along Main Street that carry these traditions year-round. The festival strengthens a sense of belonging and connection in the Hudson Valley, inviting everyone to become, even if just for a day, part of that shared cultural experience.”

This year’s Guelaguetza will occur on Sunday, August 2nd from 12-7PM at Waryas Park Promenade, Poughkeepsie, NY 12601.

Getting There

Poughkeepsie is approximately two hours from New York City by Metro-North or Amtrak. The businesses featured in this guide are located along Main Street, just a five-minute walk from the train station. The 2-mile route outlined here is walkable, though Uber and Lyft are also widely available.

What To Order

If you want a taste of Oaxaca, you’ll need to look beyond tacos, tortas, and quesadillas. The dishes below showcase culinary traditions that stretch back millennia and remain central to Oaxacan cooking today. Offerings you will find throughout the restaurants, with elements imported directly from Oaxaca include:

• Moles: rich, complex, savory-and-sweet sauces typically served over chicken alongside beans, rice and tortillas

• Memelas: decadent corn masa cakes topped with a layer of beans, Oaxaca cheese, and an optional protein

• Tlayudas: large, crisp corn tortillas imported directly from Oaxaca, layered with refried beans, asiento (pork lard), lettuce or cabbage, avocado, meat, Oaxaca cheese, and salsa

Stop #1 — Tortillería Allison

From the train station, work up an appetite by walking 16 minutes down Main Street to arrive at Tortillería Allison. The interior is adorned with papel picado, or decorative perforated paper, much like the streets of Oaxaca during celebrations. Warm earth tones and children’s cartoons playing on the television immediately put me at ease, reminding me of a family member’s living room.

Angeles (Mariela) Lavariega and Jesus Lavariega are the husband-and-wife team behind Tortillería Allison. After Mariela immigrated to the United States, she struggled to adapt to the food, and she and her father long dreamed of opening a true tortillería. When the pandemic hit, Mariela and Jesus lost their sources of income and, with three growing children to feed, faced serious financial uncertainty. During this period of uncertainty, Mariela revisited the dream she had shared with her father.

“When you try tortillas in the United States, it’s a completely different product than what you’re used to in Mexico,” Mariela explains as Jesus operates a traditional volcanic stone molino, or corn mill, producing high-quality tortillas from locally grown New York corn. “That’s what we want to do—we want to bring back the original, authentic flavor that people long for. The connection we provide to people’s homes and roots is something very beautiful.”

By bringing back tradition, the tortillas at Tortillería Allison have a deeper, more robust flavor that is reminiscent of roasted corn with subtle minerality from the alkaline cooking process. Rather than being an accessory to a dish, it becomes an essential component. The loss of that flavor has a long and complex history; you can read more about the businesses preserving the tradition of Mexican masa here.

Together, Mariela and Jesus brought that dream to life in 2021. They offer traditional Oaxacan staples like memelas and tlayudas. It’s ambitious to order both, but I do it anyway, further doubling down with one of every agua fresca: horchata with cactus fruit, tamarind, and hibiscus. Clearly I’m carried away by being somewhere that feels familiar.

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They call it Cascade Locks, but this town on the banks of the Columbia River used to be called Whiskey Flats. That’s the name on the sign of the local tavern, which is one of the few buildings on the main strip, along with a couple of breweries, a post office, and a fish market. The population? Less than 1,500.

“It’s hard to keep a secret in a little town like this,” Terrie Brigham tells me as we drive along Wa Na Pa Street. “But I kept a few. Back in the day.”

Terrie and her sister Kim are the owners of Brigham Fish Market here in Cascade Locks. Although fish have been sold in this area by Native fisherman for generations, it’s often been a side-hustle; Brigham is a rare Native-owned brick-and-mortar business. “Every fisherman that comes down here from summer to fall, that is their own business,” Terrie says. “They sell under the bridge—and we do the same thing when we’re down at the scaffold, out of coolers.”

We’re overlooking the swift-flowing Columbia now, looking at the scaffolds. “One thing that people need to know, these are property. This is my family’s property,” Terrie says. Looking towards the Bridge of the Gods in the distance, scaffolds dot each side of the banks. They hover above the water, some in better condition than others. During the season, native families perch here and fish on their scaffolds, as they’ve done here for millennia. Sometimes tourists try to fish off of them, which Terrie hasn’t always taken kindly to. “We built them. We’ve put the blood, sweat and tears into every one of them.”

Talking to Terrie, you get the sense that she’s used to defending her rights, her property, her culture. As if at any point, they could be lost. Back at the market, she points to pictures on the wall. “Those are pictures of Celilo,” she says. Celilo Falls was a major trading hub and gathering place for over 15,000 years. In Native languages it was called Wyam, which referred to the sound the rushing falls made. The sound faded in 1957. “When they put the Dalles Dam, it backed up all the water and it buried her."

She points to another picture, “That’s where the village was flooded to,'“ she says. “It’s still there, above the railroad tracks. It’s the oldest living inhabited village in North America.”

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There aren’t really palm trees on Staten Island.

But quietly, their sap runs the dessert world of the borough’s Sri Lankan community, one of the largest in the US.

More specifically, the king is kithul, the fishtail palm. Native to Sri Lanka, the trees tower over the island, with drooping bouquets of ochre, fruiting blossoms. During the spring, tree tappers climb the trunks, cut off the ends of the flowers, and collect the sweet, clear, resiny sap that oozes out over days. When boiled, the sap becomes a deep amber, butterscotchy treacle that is floral and funky at once.

Kithul treacle is not maple, honey, nor molasses, but its own flavor. The stuff is distinctly Sri Lankan, existing about 2000 years before sugarcane was introduced to the country by colonists. At the end of last year, the know-how of kithul tapping was named to UNESCO’s list of intangible cultural heritage.

Despite “having a place in the oldest records” of Sri Lanka, kithul has been deemed “in need of saving,” reports culture journalist Vidya Balachander for NPR. An aging population of tappers, youth emigration to more profitable industries, and monoculture-led deforestation have led to a decline in the cultivation of this labor-intensive tree.

“It’s hard to find here,” tells me Lokesh Kumaravel, a host at AA Lankan’s Cafe on Victory Boulevard, who grew up in Colombo, Sri Lanka. “And the kithul [treacle] we have here tastes so different from home.”

For Sri Lankans in Staten Island today, kithul treacle comes in glass bottles, which are imported to grocery stores like New York Lanka and JNY Lanka. From there, it’s stirred into bold cups of black Ceylon tea and transformed into sweets at restaurants across Victory Boulevard. If you’re eating in the borough, here are four desserts starring kithul treacle, keeping its heritage alive:

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The first thing I notice when I walk into Soccer Tavern is a framed newspaper clipping reading, “Norwegians in N.Y. Toast Big Cup Upset”. Apparently Norway has just pulled off a surprising 2-1 defeat against Brazil in the World Cup. I would’ve believed the article was from this past weekend, except that the sepia-hued clipping is dated June 24, 1998.

In the early 20th century, this part of Sunset Park and neighboring Bay Ridge was an enclave for Scandinavian immigrants, known colloquially as Little Norway. 8th Avenue was even nicknamed “Lapskaus Boulevard” after the hearty Norwegian beef and vegetable stew.

Looking around the neighborhood now, it’s hard to tell its layered history of immigration. Amidst the signs in Mandarin, the yelling in Cantonese, and the scent of Asian delicacies wafting from the street carts, Soccer Tavern – where the Norwegian flag still flies alongside stars and stripes and the Irish tricolor – rises like a rare time capsule from a bygone era.

Inside, the juxtaposition is just as stark. Beneath a ledge bowing under the weight of viking beer steins, an older Asian gentleman sits at a high-top with a plate of peanuts, a Guinness, a notepad, and four phones broadcasting different horse races in real time.

The middle-aged Irishman behind the bar pours Stella into a frosty glass while I inquire about the history of the establishment. “This bar was opened in 1932, during the Prohibition era. I believe back then it was opened by Norwegians. It became a soccer tavern in the 50s, but it’s been a bar continuously for almost a hundred years,” he explains.

I learn that his name is Brendan Farley and he is the owner of the bar. “The bar became Irish when the old owner, Colm Reilly, bought the place in 1973. He was from Longford, the same place that I came from in Ireland. I came to New York when I was 18 and he gave me a nice break,” Brendan recounts. “My first day was behind the bar was July 4th, 1986.”

Do you remember that first day?

I had never tended bar before and I was scared to death. I was like a deer in headlights.

I was very shy and for the first three or four weeks [Colm] said, “I don’t think you’re going to make it.” I begged him to give me another couple of weeks. A few months later, he was saying, “You’re the best bartender I ever had!”

I also married his daughter… That might’ve helped.

Have you been behind the bar since?

Yeah. I’m just a bartender, you know. A lot of people would come and go and not even know I own the place, and I like it like that. Plus, my kids help out, my wife helps out, you know, everybody pitches in. It’s a real family affair.

You must have seen the neighborhood change a lot over 40 years.

When I started in ‘86, I think there was only one Chinese restaurant on this block.

An Asian woman approaches the bar and orders a vodka cranberry. She walks back to the corner table where her group is fixated on the TV screen broadcasting the track at Presque Isle Downs. While the name suggests that soccer is the main attraction here, nearly half the screens in the bar are dedicated to horse races, which are particularly popular with the local Malaysian clientele.

The bar is seemingly bifurcated between those watching the horse races and those watching the World Cup. Amongst the football fans, I am introduced to several regulars. At the end of the bar sits Jimmy, a former bartender here for 15 years, with his cane hanging from the back of his chair. Next to him are David, a current bartender who is here on his day off, and Eddie, a distributor at the Fulton Fish Market, stopping by for a round before his night shift.

Each has a stack of cash on the bar before them, which grows with every order. Once in a while, they redeem a green and white chip for a free drink, the de facto rewards program revealing the most loyal customers. Eddie turns and gifts me a chip. “Can’t have my wife finding too many of these in my pocket,” he laughs.

Suddenly, the woman beside me hops off her stool, exclaiming, “My dumplings are here!”

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Four years ago, Pavlo Servetnyk was baking bread for Ukrainian soldiers. Now he’s handing me freshly-made mochi at his bubble gum pink cafe in the East Village.

The mochi here is anything but traditional. “For Japanese people, mochi is just dough,” Pavlo explains. “I try to combine two ideas: it’s French cuisine with the mousse inside, and outside is mochi dough.” But Pavlo’s culinary technique concerns me less than his background.

Behind the Instagrammable facade and eye-catching flavor combinations there is a question I haven’t yet gotten the answer to: How did a Ukrainian Master Chef who trained at Michelin-starred restaurants in Barcelona and Bangkok, who was targeted by the Russian army, end up making mochi here in New York City?

“It’s 2016 and I live in Ukraine, in a small city called Kherson,” Pavlo begins. As he speaks, he pulls down a small measuring bowl and places it on a scale. He meticulously measures out glutinous rice flour, granulated sugar, and water. The ingredients are whisked into a pale thin liquid that will unbelievably coagulate into mochi dough with heat and patience.

“I worked as a server at a restaurant and my first chef said to me, ‘A server never gets Michelin stars. You need to come work with me in the kitchen.’ I try just one day in the kitchen and I love it,” he says. “I won Master Chef after two years of kitchen skills, from regular cook to sous chef to chef position.”

In between brief rounds in the microwave, Pavlo gently folds the remaining liquid into the emerging dough with a spatula. As he scrapes the thickening dough off the walls of the bowl, he points out small flecks of white that indicate it needs more time. “Before the show I had never cooked pastries, but I understood if I want to win, I need to learn pastry. And now I make mochi.” He puts the mixture back into the microwave.

From his winnings on Master Chef, Pavlo was able to travel the world. First, he went to the three-Michelin-starred El Celler de Can Roca in Catalunya. Then he headed to Bangkok, to work at Gaggan, which was widely considered the best restaurant in Asia at the time.

How was your experience working at some of the best restaurants in the world?

My first internship at El Celler was an unbelievable dream. I had to learn one million rules, one million tools, one million techniques – everything new. And I still don’t care about nothing; if I need to wash the floor, I wash the floor. Many chefs start to respect me because they feel my passion and afterwards, Jean Roca wrote me a reference to Gaggan Anand.

That second internship was the worst internship experience in my life. Zero respect. Zero safety. And Gaggan’s mindset is like, “If you’re not an animal, it’s not your kitchen.” So I work six days per week, 16 hours each day. But I needed knowledge so I lived like that for three months. If something goes bad, I just try to switch something in my brain. Like okay, it happened, but I need to still be there and learn.

What’s the most important thing you learned there?

We had a special tradition once a week where two people made staff meal. In the restaurant, people came from many countries and everyone shared knowledge. One week, some guys from Japan taught us how to make mochi dough.

The microwave beeps again. The texture of the dough is completely different now, bouncing when poked and releasing a blast of steam with each sticky stir. Pavlo throws a pat of butter into the mixture and it melts immediately. Time is of the essence now; the dough has to cool enough to be mixed by hand, but not too much that the butter congeals.

“I go back to Ukraine and COVID starts,” he explains. Pavlo squeezes the dough and butter until they resemble cheese curds, then quickly draws his hands back, wincing at the heat. A mixer is out of the question – the dough would become too chewy. “I have some money left, and I opened a small bakery with my wife because I loved making bread... No one made the same bread quality like I made in that tiny city. It was an overnight success.

“After maybe six months, we opened three bakeries. We had a small production space. We delivered bread in three cities around my city, and 50 people work in my company. We start to be like a real company,” he says. “Then 24th of February, the war started.”

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“You basically don’t have time for this interview,” is what I realize, and then say out loud, standing inside of a small warehouse devoted to tofu in southeast Portland. Across from me, through a haze of soy milk steam, is a former professional baseball player wearing a blue rubber apron spattered with curd, grinding his teeth.

Jason Ogata still has the build of a designated hitter, and the tenacity and obsessiveness of a pro athlete. “I mean, yes,” is what he replies, and the conversation goes silent as he twists a valve and more steam obscures my camera. He is the newest owner of the oldest tofu shop in America, and I am in his way.

Ota Tofu has survived in Portland since 1911. I use the word survived, because many of the Japanese-owned businesses of the early 20th century in Portland did not. Their owners were placed in prison camps by the US government during World War 2; only 1/3rd of the Japanese community returned, finding their businesses sold or confiscated. The founders of Ota Tofu were brothers, and one died in the camps.

“Luckily the landlord during the war preserved this place and allowed them to come back to keep it going,” Jason says. He learned from the 3rd generation, Ko Ota, who sold him the business in 2019.

Interviewer: Did you have any agreement in with Mr. Ota about keeping things exactly like they were?

Jason: Nope. But I guess we had a mutual understanding.

On its face, tofu doesn’t seem like something that could change much. It’s been industrialized and scaled as an industry worth nearly $500m in revenue annually. But Jason has found obstacles to scaling while preserving the taste he grew up with. “I tried cutting costs and sourcing [the soybeans] from China,” he admits. “But it didn’t produce the kind of tofu taste we wanted.”

Besides the soybeans, the other ingredient at the heart of Jason’s tofu-making process is nigari, the coagulant that binds the soybean into curds. In Chinese tofu-making, gypsum is preferred. They are both among the oldest coagulants for tofu-making, but nigari contributes more umami to the taste, and more custardy-ness to the texture. “It doesn’t have a chemical after taste,” Jason tells me. “It really brings out the soybean flavor.”

“Because of [the nigari], we have to do a lot of hands-on techniques to press it into tofu,” Jason tells me. He has not stopped working since I walked in the door at 6 AM.

The process goes something like this: First, Jason hoists massive buckets of soaking soy-beans into drainage bins, then wheels them across the floor. He scoops them into a grinder, and this slurry flows into a pot where it cooks. It’s then strained through hemp. The larger clumps are strained again by Jason using a cheese cloth that he rocks back and forth. The pure soy milk is collected in a bucket below, while the clumps are dumped into a bag to be sold for animal feed. The nigari is added to the pure soy-milk; Jason mixes it, then watches it curd and determines whether it should be made into firmer or softer tofu. This mixture is then placed in metal bins lined with cheese-cloth and pressed by machine to remove moisture. Eventually, it’s unwrapped, placed in water, and cut by hand.

“I was starting work before 2 AM, to come start the process,” he admits. “Now I come in at like 3:45. So it’s like sleeping in.” He works 10-12 hours usually, between this factory and his newer one, before starting on office work. On the day of my interview, the factory I am in will produce 1,500 pounds of tofu, while the other factory is producing between 3,000 and 4,000 pounds.

“The other [factory]’s more automated, but it’s still pretty hands on.” Jason says. Still, the smaller factory provides value. “This allows us to pay attention to every part of every step of the process… We’ll probably make tofu here this way for as long as we can.”

Across Portland, you’ll find Ota Tofu’s name listed on a restaurant’s menu as a source of local pride. But outside of Portland, it’s still relatively unknown. “We put our brand on the grocery store shelves, and they don’t know it’s different,” Jason told me. Another challenge in the market is shelf-life. Mass-market tofu has a shelf-life of around 3 months, while Ota’s tofu has a shelf life of just 1 month. Jason launched a frozen tofu product to try to compete, it’s available on their website.

“Once they try it, they can taste the difference,” Jason says. He is rapidly scooping soybeans with a large bucket. “Then we have a customer for life.”

This is part 1 of my Portland, Oregon series. I filmed 5 more videos. Let me know if more write-ups like these are valuable to give more context to the videos I make, and thanks for your support. - Rob

There’s one thing that locals kept telling me about New Orleans: The best food isn’t in a restaurant. It’s in someone’s home.

I did stick around long enough to be invited into one. That’s how I ended up streetside at a Mardi Gras parade, in Uptown, being handed drinks by a man who at a certain point could only say the nonsense word “changalang.” But the foods he had on display weren’t the fabled gumbo, or crawfish étouffée, or fried chicken.

So maybe my New Orleans story shouldn’t start there, in that home. Maybe my story starts when I walked from Tremé to the Seventh Ward, then crossed under the I-10 into Marigny. Beneath the I-10 is a plaque that reminds you that this historic black neighborhood was torn in half by the freeway above it.

In the Seventh Ward I was told by a cultural ambassador of New Orleans that integration hastened the downfall of its thriving black neighborhoods. Vance Vaucresson’s family has been making hot sausage, also known as chourice, in the Seventh Ward since 1899. I ate it on a po’boy with extra pickles and Crystal. It tasted like home, even though this is actually Vaucresson’s third home. The original was on the other side of I-10, now called the Circle Food Store.

“This is the New Orleans Seventh Ward Creole version of Creole chourice,” Vance told me as he put together a batch, as always, in the center of the restaurant, in plain view of customers. “We as a family have been in this 3-block radius, from North Claiborne to North Johnson Street, servicing this community for 126 years.”

Maybe the story starts the first time I got called a Yankee, at Verti Marte. When I was told the difference between the South and the North is “family and God.”

“It’s a big part, those 2 go together in the South,” Verti Marte’s owner, Sam Hatfield, told me. But surely, we have family and God in the North? “I know you do,” he answered, coyly. But the implication was we don’t have it like they do in the South.

I witnessed that first-hand when I broke bread with a Vietnamese man named Thien Nguyen at Big EZ Seafood, who crossed himself before we ate 10 pounds of Crawfish. Sometimes I get asked what the English version of the phrase “bon appetit” is. At least in New Orleans, it seems to be the sign of the cross. Thien told me that growing up poor in California, crawfish were the only thing he was allowed to eat until he was full. New Orleans is his home now, and he ships them all across the country.

God. Family. Segregation. Immigration. Crawfish. I could depict New Orleans as collage. But in many ways its design is deliberate and formal, ideated by powerful figures who blockbusted and red-lined their city into the shape they wanted it to be. I could depict it as a tragedy. But then why the hell is everyone partying? I will list its restaurants; but the best food is in someone’s home.

I have only scratched the surface of New Orleans. There is a sense of history and joy and resilience, but I can’t speak about it like they can. I conducted 6 interviews that I hope represent the city well, but I know they can’t represent it fully.

If you are planning on visiting New Orleans, you can watch our Feasting on $50 episode where we find the best breakfast, lunch and dinner for under $50. I’ve listed our choices below, as well as many other restaurants I enjoyed during my 2 weeks there.

Please give it a like and sub, that would be super helpful:

Where to Eat in New Orleans (recommendations from a Yankee)

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Thanks for reading People & Food. Today we are running a story by Angela Xu (@BrooklynFoodLady) about Vân Vân, a specialty Vietnamese herb and spice purveyor in New York.

While the herbs they provide to restaurants are game-changing and essential to the business, Angela writes here that “their fledgling business originated from a more personal place of homesickness and hunger.”

Interested in writing for People & Food? Pitch me here. - Rob Martinez

The Vietnamese restaurant scene in New York City is having a moment. From the uber authentic dishes at Mắm, served atop low plastic tables and stools evoking Hanoi, to the Tết celebration at Saigon Social featuring dishes such as canh khổ qua (bittermelon soup) and bánh tét chiên (fried sticky rice), gone are the days of lamenting over a lack of incredible Vietnamese food.

The offerings have evolved beyond phở and bánh mì too. At Falansai, chef Eric Tran is creating elegant, innovative dishes at the intersection of his Vietnamese and Mexican roots. Meanwhile at Ha’s Snack Bar and the newly opened Bistrot Ha, traditionally French and Italian dishes are getting the “Ha’s treatment” with a pinch of Vietnamese herbs, a dash of spices, and a lot of fish sauce.

Underpinning this culinary renaissance is a need for fresh, flavorful ingredients, which have not historically been accessible in New York City. That is, until Vân Vân came along.

It may appear as if wife and husband duo, Thảo Bùi and Duy Võ, founded Vân Vân to meet the increasing demand for quality Vietnamese ingredients stateside. In reality, their fledgling business originated from a more personal place of homesickness and hunger.

Enter Ăn Xôi

Thảo Bùi was born and raised in Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City). Growing up, some of her fondest memories took place around her grandmother’s table, gathered with her family to eat an enormous feast. However, she took the fresh, home-cooked meals she ate everyday for granted. It wasn’t until she immigrated to the U.S. that she realized how special the native ingredients of her motherland truly were.

When Thảo and Duy arrived in Queens in 2013, the couple made the bleak discovery that “New York didn’t really have good Vietnamese food”. Thảo realized that if she wanted to taste the delicious, home-style dishes of her childhood, she would have to learn to cook them for herself.

The COVID lockdowns provided the perfect opportunity for Thảo to learn her family’s recipes. The process could be daunting at times: during instructional video calls with her mother quantities were eyeballed and timing was vague. “You have to be more specific!” was a common refrain, repeated exasperatedly during that time.

As she dove deeper into the intricacies of Vietnamese home cooking, the pandemic project evolved into more than satisfying her homesick cravings. “I started understanding a lot of the nuances in Vietnamese cooking, and it made me a lot more appreciative of my food and my culture,” she shares.

“Through generations of migration and displacement, my family has kept our food traditions alive. Now that I live abroad and probably won’t go back to Vietnam to live permanently, I don’t want all of these recipes to die with me.”

Eager to share her newfound appreciation, Thảo founded a pop-up called Ăn Xôi, literally “eat sticky rice”, where she used sticky rice as a canvas to present the abundance of Vietnamese food to the world. However, she quickly had to put the passion project on pause when the undiagnosed neck pains she had been experiencing for over a year became debilitating.

Thảo’s doctor finally suggested an MRI to rule out a brain tumor. The scans revealed a massive tumor that was encroaching on her spine. Five days later, she was wheeled into the operating room for emergency surgery.

The road to recovery post-operation was slow, but Thảo was armed with a new lease on life. In an Instagram post from early 2022 she shared, “All of February went by in rehabilitation. Learning to stand up. To walk. To move my toes. What was once normal suddenly took a tremendous amount of efforts and sweats. I also thought a lot about Ăn Xôi. Maybe it was the time to do what brings me joy.”

As Thảo regained her physical mobility, she turned to Ăn Xôi as an outlet for her energy and a way to reclaim independence. However, with each trip to the grocery store, her frustration mounted over the lack of access to the herbs and spices required for Vietnamese cooking.

Suddenly, it clicked. “Growing up in Vietnam, we were surrounded by really, really good aromatics,” Thảo recounts. What if she introduced the ingredients that she grew up eating everyday to an American audience?

Thảo began consulting family members back home about where to go to find different ingredients. When sourcing from abroad proved nearly impossible, she flew back to Vietnam. Even then, sourcing ingredients continued to be a challenge. Despite speaking Vietnamese, people could tell from her accent that she wasn’t local, which made it hard for her to build relationships. Furthermore, many farmers didn’t care about ethical sourcing, and preferred selling large quantities to existing buyers over taking a risk with a new buyer. But she persisted.

After many months of building every aspect of their company from scratch, Thảo and Duy launched Vân Vân in 2023 with the goal of bringing the flavors of Vietnam to the North American pantry by specializing in single-origin, terroir-driven herbs and spices.

The Restaurants Hooked on Vân Vân

Helen Nguyen, chef and owner of Saigon Social, was an early champion of Vân Vân. She first met Thảo and Duy through Ăn Xôi, having run her own restaurant as a pop up for two years, and helped advise the couple on early sourcing trips to Vietnam.

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Thanks for reading People & Food. Today’s deeply-researched piece is written by Alexa Calderón, who spent a great deal of time tracking down every person in New York who makes masa from scratch—from street vendors and tamaleros to tortillerias and Michelin-starred restaurants. This is a living guide to the people who are preserving the tradition of nixtamalization in New York, amidst a larger story of why this renaissance is occurring in the first place.

In New York, it is rare, but not impossible, to find fresh corn masa.

New York has many tortilla factories, and many restaurants that make tortillas by hand. But there are only around a dozen molinos, or corn mills, that process raw corn kernels into fresh, nixtamalized masa—the nutrient-dense corn dough that is the backbone of Mexican cuisine. The difference between the two seems subtle, but yields a massive difference in flavor.

The process of transforming raw maize into masa is time-consuming, often taking up to three days. It begins with the centuries-old practice of nixtamalization, in which corn is boiled in an alkaline solution, increasing both its nutritional value and digestibility. Once nixtamalized, the corn is ground fine or coarse, depending on the desired outcome, using a molino, or mechanically powered mill. After this point, the dough can be rolled and flattened into tortillas, spread across corn husks for tamales, shaped into tetelas, and more.

Most tortillerías, both in the US and Mexico, produce tortillas using processed corn flour, meaning most people have only ever tried corn flour-based tortillas. With corn flour, nearly all of the flavor and nutritional value is lost.

When food tells only half of its story, there is a fundamental disconnect between what we eat and what we understand.

How Fresh Masa Became Rare - and Almost Extinct

Corn is more than the basis of masa, it is a connection to the ancestral.

Corn is the product of more than 9,000 years of human-led genetic domestication. Its ancestor, a wild grass called teosinte native to southwestern Mexico, was no larger than a pinky finger, with kernels so hard they resembled stones. Over millennia, maize evolved into a staple crop, supported by the aforementioned innovation of nixtamalization, a processing technique developed by Indigenous peoples. Eventually, it led to incredible maize diversity, with around 60 native varieties still existing today.

Though built up for centuries, this relationship has faced contemporary challenges, being systematically disrupted through market manipulation and financial interests. Through neoliberal reforms and the implementation of NAFTA, then later the USMCA, fresh corn masa is increasingly difficult to find.

The Battle Over Mexico’s Corn

1980s

In the late 80s, Maseca, a then-struggling corn-flour company, benefited from personal ties to Mexico’s then President, Carlos Salinas. His administration manipulated Mexico’s traditional tortilla program to favor corn flour over traditional producers.

Policy changes froze the amount of corn provided to artisanal tortillerías, incentivized small producers to adopt flour-based production through the purchase of Maseca’s equipment, and the government declared all growth in the market would be from corn flour. All of this accelerated the decline of fresh-masa tortillas, despite consumer preference for traditional flavor.

1994

Tortilla makers who refused to adopt Maseca’s flour-based production were punished through restricted access to quality corn, forcing many out of business. As Maseca’s market share grew, it captured a large portion of government subsidies, receiving $300 million by 1994.

2006

As of 2006, Maseca’s parent company, GRUMA, controls about 70 percent of Mexico’s corn-flour market. NAFTA-era reforms flooded Mexico with cheap U.S. corn, benefiting GRUMA while harming Mexican farmers, and the removal of tortilla price controls led to soaring consumer prices despite falling corn costs.

These policies didn’t just reshape Mexico’s tortilla economy, they determined what kinds of masa would be available in New York – and most of the US.

2023

In December 2023, Mexico’s then-president, Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador, attempted to ban genetically modified (GM) corn for human consumption.

2024

By February 2024, the USMCA dispute panel sided with the US, undermining Mexico’s efforts to protect its corn, public health, and food sovereignty from GM corn.

2025

Mexico’s current president, Claudia Sheinbaum, has constitutionally banned the planting of GM corn seeds intended for human consumption. Native maize varieties are vulnerable to genetic contamination when they cross-pollinate with GM strains, and experts warn that some ancestral varieties may already have gone extinct due to illegal plantings and genetic drift. Much of the GM corn originates from the United States, where farmers gained competitive advantage over Mexican farmers after NAFTA was implemented in 1994.

The State of Masa in New York

Tasting a tortilla made from absolute scratch in New York is rare. So rare that we have found only 12 molinos in the entirety of New York state who are making their masa in-house.

Tortilleria Allison is one of only three places outside of the city that is milling its own corn and making fresh, nixtamalized masa from scratch. Their work has helped the locals in the Oaxacan enclave of Poughkeepsie feel an emotional connection to their home.

“A young man took half a pound of tortillas – since we sell them by the pound, he decided to take just half to try them because he wasn’t very sure…” Tortilleria Allison’s co-owner, Mariela Lavariega, explained.

“When his mother tried them, she started crying. She said the tortillas reminded her of the ones she used to buy back in her hometown, and she remembered her mother and her grandmother. She has been in the US for many years, and when she tasted the tortillas, those memories came back to her.”

Blanca Pilar, a street vendor in Brooklyn, has her own molino in her home, which she uses to process corn to make fresh tamales and atole. This gives her a distinct advantage in the competitive world of street vending, where Maseca is used as a shortcut in the already labor-intensive work of making tamales.

“Making tamales takes almost three days,” she told me. “One day is for cooking the corn so I can wash it and grind it in the mill, because if it’s still hot, the masa doesn’t come out right. I cook it one day, wash and grind it the next, then start making the tamales, and by the third day they’re ready to sell.”

Pilar is not alone in her pursuit of authentic flavor, or in taking extra steps to ensure her tamales live up to people’s memories of home. Fernando Lopez of Factory Tamal goes even further, refining his masa through a process called cernir – sifting it to remove clumps and achieve the proper texture.

“As far as New York City goes,” Lopez explains, “they sell tamales, but most people make them with Maseca, and almost no one – really, no one – was making tamales from scratch. So, based on the flavor from when I was a child, I set out to recreate and rebuild the tamales I ate growing up.” Lopez wasn’t comfortable selling his tamales until the recipe was perfected, and when it received the stamp of approval from strangers, he knew his mission had been accomplished.

“Every time they ate, they were reminded of their grandmother,” he told me. “They’d say, ‘Oh, wow – this is like what your mom used to make, right?’ And that filled me with even more pride and motivation to keep going.”

Supporting places that make masa from scratch means preserving ancient traditions diminished by free trade and globalization, while also honoring a food culture widely accepted in the U.S. without full consideration of its origins or the people behind it. Plus, it tastes better: “The flavor of my tamales is different from those made with Maseca,” Blanca said. “People come to me for the taste of the tamales – the flavor and even the texture. They tell me it reminds them of their hometown, their country, because they’re made from natural corn.”

While very few molinos exist in New York, masa availability is increasing thanks to wholesale distributors like Masienda and Tamoa. But one local business has been integral to onboarding restaurants like the 3 Michelin-Star Eleven Madison Park to the world of traditional nixtamalization: Sobre Masa.

From Oaxaca to Brooklyn

Sobre Masa began as a way for co-owners Zack Wangeman and Diana Montano to reconnect with their Oaxacan heritage. When the pandemic halted indoor dining, the business pivoted toward wholesale tortilla production – initially as a matter of financial survival. Five years later, both the restaurant and wholesale arms are flourishing. Today, Sobre Masa supplies fresh masa, tortillas, and even whole corn kernels to more than 35 clients across the city.

Beyond its own growth, Sobre Masa has become a model for others interested in working with traditional corn. When asked why more New York City restaurants don’t grind corn in-house, Zack’s answer is pragmatic: “Our tortilla factory has grown a lot because of how difficult it is. Labor is really expensive for restaurants, especially when you add nixtamalization and hand-pressing tortillas. Space is another issue – most kitchens are in basements... And the cost of heirloom corn is a barrier.”

He adds that Masienda’s minimum order of 20 bags raises a logistical question: “Where do people store that in New York City? That’s why we started selling corn, too.”

This year alone, Sobre Masa estimates it will bring in close to 100 tons of corn. What distinguishes their tortilla factory, however, is not just scale but flexibility. “If someone has a special event and wants us to mix in something like ramp purée, or if they prefer their tortilla chips a little thicker, we can do that,” Zack explains. “You can always call us if there’s an issue. I find that romantic – it’s how things used to work. You had a butcher, a produce guy. If something was coming into season, you’d call them. I like that we’re the tortilla people. You can call us for any corn question or corn need.”

Thanks to local molinos, more New York restaurants are receiving fresh, nixtamalized masa and tortillas. At the same time, the number of molinos across the city is steadily growing as existing businesses thrive. In their pursuit of flavor and heritage, these models offer inspiration.

For these select few, clear themes emerge: a commitment to preserving heirloom varieties, using all-natural ingredients, honoring Mexican culinary traditions, delivering the best possible flavor, and maintaining a deep sense of pride and care in their craft. Each is remarkable in its own way, and every one of them is worth seeking out.

For many tortilla makers, this work is more than food, it is a connection to identity, memory, and resistance. As Matt Diaz, co-owner of For All Things Good, a molino and cafe located in Bed-Stuy puts it, “We care where we put our money and like to know that it can get traced back to the farmers and families who have supported the corn industry and diversity for generations.”

A list of the 12 traditional molinos of New York

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In Prospect Lefferts Gardens, Restaurant Ix always smells like something has been roasted with purpose. On a winter afternoon, the room warms up fast with steam and spice. Chef Jorge Cardénas runs the kitchen, and the menu reads like an invitation to learn: Quichón, Pepián, Jocón, Estofado de Muerto, and more.

I meet Jorge after the lunch rush, expecting a quiet room, but I find the opposite. Friends are still catching up over big bowls, and the odd solo diner leans in close to their stew. I come here often for the soups and stews, a coffee, or the off-menu Dr. Jaguar, a hot drink of herbs and spices that helps with a cold or the flu. But today I am here for something more foundational than any single dish.

“The base just exists for minutes,” Jorge tells me. “You start with it, and it becomes a soup.” He is talking about recado, the mother base of Guatemalan stews. It can be a spice mix, a paste, or a thick slurry, but Jorge is clear about what it is not: It is not a sauce meant to be admired on its own.

“It doesn’t look sexy,” he says, smiling. “It’s not like guacamole.”

Recados are often divided into three groups: Rojo (Red), Verde (Green), Negro (Black). But when I bring this up, Jorge stops me. “We don’t put it in three colors,” he says. “It’s just different. We have like, I don’t know, 50, 80… like Mexican moles.”

The difference, he explains, is not the label, but what you do to the ingredients before they ever touch the pot. Even in a green recado, he might push ingredients toward darkness. Scallions can be roasted “until they are almost charcoal.” Tomatillos are never raw. “I like to scorch them until they are black.” The same direction can taste fresh and bright, or deep and smoky, depending on how hard you roast, toast, or burn.

In other words, a recado is not one of three master pastes waiting to be assigned. Jorge thinks dish by dish. Jocón has its recado, Pepián has its recado, Quichón has its recado. The rojo/verde/negro labels can be useful shorthand, but they do not capture how recados actually function in his kitchen.

Luckily, we can taste at least 5 of these recados right here in Brooklyn. To help me understand, Jorge lines up a tasting flight for me, five bowls arranged like a spectrum. Seeing them together makes the concept click. The recado exists just briefly—before it becomes a plated dish.

The 5 Recados of Ix:

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Hey, this is Rob Martinez. Thanks for considering People & Food as a publisher of your work, I appreciate it.

What is People & Food?

People & Food is—for now—a publication where 90% of subscribers have been referred from my video work. I hope it becomes, instead, a home for a diverse set of writers and readers who believe in championing small food businesses from around the world and the people who operate them. The mission is to change where folks choose to eat: away from the moneyed-up groups with PR companies and influencer dollars, and towards the mom-and-pops that instill pride in our communities.

Because of the strong association with my work, I encourage you to take a look at some of my more popular videos to get a sense of what folks expect of People & Food. I believe they expect the following:

• Deeper stories that others are not covering, like the whole lamb in New Paltz or the challenges a grocer faced while offering relief to SNAP recipients

• A focus on not just the newer spots, but the places that have been holding it down for years, like Brennan & Carr in Brooklyn and Gregory’s Gourmet Desserts in Oakland

• Direct quotes and insights from chefs, cooks, and restaurateurs. I am unlikely to publish a piece that doesn’t include interviews as part of the reporting.

• Useful observations about trends that others haven’t noticed. For example, I thought it was worth writing about black al pastor when it arrived in New York.

• Stories about not just chefs but artisans and experts in the food world, like my story about Aqua Best.

• Updates from the community. My network of chefs and business owners is open to you, and I will be working with them to develop recipes and share more of their stories.

In short, your pitch should be a good story about food that includes primary sources, ideally that others haven’t noticed yet. Our tagline is Food is Personal. Some keywords I use for my work are urgency, tension, pride, and usefulness.

We Pay Writers

Not as much as I would like, but please keep in mind I did not raise $2 million dollars. We pay from our subscription revenue, so please subscribe and share!

Here are some of the more pragmatic details on pitching:

• Our current rate is $.50/word (as of 01/01/26), and writers should also take quality photos. I am always happy to shoot photos myself if available and necessary.

• Please include your ideal headline in your pitch.

• Writers should not write about PR meals. Nothing against restaurants with PR, but I am looking for contributors who seek out their stories.

• Our audience is primarily based in New York. I am interested in stories from NYC, NJ, Philly and the surrounding areas.

• I am also open to weekly or monthly series.

• Please email all pitches to pitches@peopleandfood.com

Thanks again for your interest, I am looking forward to adding a lot of contributors to People & Food in 2026 and beyond!

- Rob Martinez

Before the year was even over, the 2025 “Best Restaurant” winners had been crowned in New York City. For NY Mag, it was Le Veau d’Or. For The Infatuation, Smithereens. At the Times, they included Kabawa, Smithereens, Ha’s Snack Bar, and Borgo on their list of 2025’s best restaurants in America.

My 2025 year in dining wasn’t so focused on the now. My most popular feature of the year saw me dining in a 45 year old Russian bath house in Gravesend, Brooklyn. I spent weeks in London and opted to only highlight immigrant-owned restaurants that have become staples in their communities, leading me to eat delicious Nigerian suya in Peckham, and Turkish tantuni in Enfield. In Chicagoland’s Little Palestine, I ate mansaf with my hands at one of its most iconic, time-tested establishments. In Queens’ Little Bangladesh, I ate microwaved brain with a plastic spoon from a local street vendor. In Poughkeepsie’s Little Oaxaca, I wanted to cry after eating a memelita made by the owner’s mom, who ran a restaurant in Oaxaca decades ago.

“It’s impossible to keep pace with the state of the world—this is why it’s best to focus on the things that never go out of style.” - Paul Thomas Anderson, discussing One Battle After Another with Esquire

But I’m not some fussy artist in a bubble of my own making. Just last week I had a matcha at 12 Chairs (wonderful). At some point I ate one of Kwame’s Patty Palace patties (awful). I got a banh mi from Bánh Anh Em (I took it to-go; not ideal). In London, I ate at Jonathan Nunn’s #1 restaurant, Planque (sensational). In Tokyo, I did a Michelin-star Omakase (miserable). In New Orleans, I rubbed elbows with a Rolex-wearing Houstonite and ate gumbo that was black as night in a packed dining room where they sell $1.50 martinis. They gifted me a green lanyard with a bell on it to wear around my neck like a fucking cow.

I tried my best to be current and on-trend. But in the end, many of the best meals I’ve had in 2025 weren’t from restaurants that opened in 2025.

Weighing all of this—Let’s get started on my list of not only best meals, but best individual bites. A lot of this will be in New York City and London, but there’ll be appearances from New Jersey, Chicago, Kyoto, South Korea, San Francisco, New Orleans, Italy, and the Hudson Valley as well.

Where I ate the most in New York City in 2025:

While it’s important to reward those who push the restaurant industry forward in terms of technique and hospitality, I do want to start by just telling you where I ate most often this year. These are the places that kept me going.

1. Mama Yoshi Mini Mart, Ridgewood Queens - Everything here is good, plain and simple. Once upon a time I featured the spam breakfast burrito, but I go just as often for the beef gyudon bowl, with a massive piece of katsu on the side to eat while I walk home.

2. Wayne & Sons, East Village Manhattan - Crunchy tacos. Margaritas. Sneaky-good salsas. Sadly the original location has closed down, after the city forced them to close their streatery—cutting their seating by more than half. I’m looking forward to their Williamsburg location opening in January, 2025.

3. Dolores, Bed-Stuy Brooklyn - Their cochinita pibil tacos are the best I’ve had in the city. But everything I’ve tried on the menu—from the tiny potato-stuffed fried tortillas called papadillas to the chile relleno taco to the exceptional gorditas with chicharrón prensado—has been impressive and thoughtful. And crucially, they make very good salsas.

4. Nhà Mình, Ridgewood Queens - I went here for banh mi and pho for quite a while and never felt really satisfied. Now I stop in for the lemongrass chicken bún. The rice noodles are stacked with deeply-charred chicken and pickled veg, and it’s the perfect vehicle to try all of Fred’s fresh and creative sauces (like the crab peanut one I had recently that was wild, or the coffee hoisin that’s been a staple for years).

5. Carnitas Ramirez, East Village Manhattan - Even though I may take Taqueria el Chato’s al Pastor as my #1 taco, Carnitas Ramirez may be #1 taqueria. I find all of the lard-soaked confit’d pig parts satisfying, and their salsa bar with pickled onions is a perfect compliment. I want to eat here all the time. Every time I see one of the owners, Gio, I apologize for not having found the time to feature this place properly.

HOT DOGS OF THE YEAR

This year saw me acting as a hot dog sherpa for Adam Richman and Brad Leone, so it’s only right I crown some winners.

1. Holydog, Middletown New York - My fascination with Holydog has continued long after my feature there. The Mexico City dog, with house-made jalapeños, is a new favorite. Read more here: Food is personal, papito.

2. Art’s Drive-In, Chicago Illinois - Their char dog is simple and perfect. It was an early choice in our Chicago Sausage episode.

3. Pierogi Boys, Ridgewood Queens - Their “Polish Boy” has a kabanosa sausage with slaw, barbecue sauce, spicy mustard and potato sticks. It’s a hefty and delicious snack.

Potato of the Year

I tried to leave the premises of Bake Street, in London, multiple times before owner Feroz Gajia could shove a jacket potato into my hands. I’d seen the videos of tuna mayo being heaped on split-open baked potatoes, and nothing appeals to me less. But Bake Street doesn’t make bullshit for social media, and Feroz is one of the most critical people I know when it comes to food. So I relented.

His potato is twice-baked, its insides mixed with saffron creamed corn that had been leftover from his collab with 2-Michelin Star Ikoyi. Named the “Hermanos Corn Special” on the menu, it’s sprinkled on top with cotija cheese and served with chipotle mayo. It’s Feroz’s take on elotes, in jacket potato form.

Like many of the other great dishes I’ve had at Bake Street—their Bajan-inspired fish cutter sandwich, Feroz’s seasonal take on the In-N-Out Burger, or their viral creme brulee cookies—this jacket potato seems to have emerged from the ether with no other goal than to be the most delicious thing it can be. It silenced the voice in my brain and left me smiling and shaking my head.

Creamed corn. Jacket potato. Elotes. Of course - that makes total sense.

Behind the paywall: The Most Interesting Restaurant of the Year, 19 Top Bites of 2025, and my top 5 Meals of 2025.

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