Please, No More

Illustration by Joanna Neborsky

Pickle Juice:
The Great Pickling Craze of 2011 has its benefits, but please keep the stuff away from my $30 entrée.

Unlike pizza, fried chicken, and the hamburger, the latest faux-comfort-food fad has mercifully fallen flat.

Tweet-Happy Chefs:
And while we’re at it, let’s also abolish tweeting food trucks, the tweeting of menu specials, and tweeting gasbag restaurant critics.

In-House Butcherss:
We like the idea of restaurants breaking down the whole cow. It’s the Gulliver-size, badly aged steaks we can’t abide.

Coffee-Tasting Notes:
Does that $4 cup of artisanal El Salvadoran “grand cru” really taste like “nectarines and washed bourbon”?

Brooklyn-Themed Restaurants:
Enough handlebar mustaches and satin vests. Even the real Brooklyn restaurants feel like theme parks these days.

Restaurants With the Word “Club” in the Name:
Platt’s Law states that if it says it’s a “club,” it’s likely neither clubby nor exclusive.

Burger Blends:
Last year it was the “Black Label” at Minetta; now Michael White has his own “White Label.” Sorry, it’s still burger meat.

Recyclable Décor:
We’ve made our peace with antique deer horns. But we draw the line at compostable table mats and cardboard menu-holders foraged from Dumpsters.

Please, No More