Consider yourself lucky. Your diligent team of editors has spared you the horror of the original concept for this issue ("Newest Fork: The Latest, Greatest, and Würst"), which was meant to focus entirely on the production and consumption of encased meats in the five boroughs. What we're hawking here is something a bit broader, beyond even the classic supposed trade off between eating "to live" or living "to eat." As you read through the pages ahead, remember: you can do both.
You also won't find glowing profiles of edgy new chefs serving uni on frosted flakes at restaurants where you can neither get a reservation nor afford a meal. We're not opposed to extravagance or sea urchin-breakfast cereal combos, but we made the difficult group decision to leave assessments of which tasting menu is the best fourth date spot (hint: it's not Le Bernadin) to publications with bigger (read: existent) expense accounts.
Instead, our contributors this issue – bless them, every one – spent a lot of time thinking about what it's really like most days to find yourself confronted with food and drink in New York. What does it look like? What hole in our hearts are we filling with brunch? How much does it cost, and maybe more importantly, who's paying for it?
We're also excited to introduce what we hope will become a new, recurring feature – an oral history project capturing voices from around the city on topics related to each issue's theme. For our inaugural edition, we're lasering in on tipping. Whether you've never worked in hospitality or are currently working multiple industry jobs, we hope it offers something in the way of new perspective.
Thank you, as always, for reading.