A photo has gone viral of Guy Fieri dumping out what we can only assume to be pounds upon pounds of nachos out of a trash can during South Beach Wine & Food Festival. That's a lot of nachos, and yet we still think he's thinking too small. Surely there are bigger, grander vessels out of which to pour nachos from!
It’s all about the Dad (finally!)! He’s got a new scheme for the restaurant! Well, I guess we know where Eddie Huang gets it from. This time, it’s a billboard advertising the restaurant at the longest stoplight in town. This is where the homeless guy reminds people they are hungry. Initially things go well with the signage -- so good, in fact, that Mom and Dad get invited to a charity dinner at the country club. Mom really wants to go because of the movie Caddyshack, her favorite movie set in a country club. "So much yelling, it’s so good.” I’m sure I tread on some cult classic ground when I say, no, no it wasn’t.
Recently, Men’s Health ran a contest to find the nine most manly restaurants in America, seeking the most testosterone-y joints in categories such as barbecue, pizza, steak, tacos, and “adventurous eating” (think Chris Cosentino). Though they were only trying to celebrate manhood, some media watchdogs claimed that they were labeling foods by gender. What is it, the New York Timesasked, that made all these foods manly, “when so many millions of women are fond of barbecue, pizza, steak, tacos, burgers, sandwiches and brew pubs”?
As a staff of women, we can tell you that the answer is, to be frank, quite simple. We may eat manly food, but it’s not because we’re eating food. We’re really eating our feelings.
So when the Times wondered whether a womanly magazine would front their own contest celebrating culinary womanliness, we at the Braiser put our ovaries together and came up with our own list of the nine womanliest restaurants in America, celebrating the yummy things that make up womanhood: marriage, friendship, shopping, and expressing our emotions. Have a night out at these restaurants with your gastronomic gal pals — as long as you’re not being visited by Auntie Flo! Are we right, ladies?