The Best Restaurant Meals of 2023, According to BA Staff

It’s not always the flashiest meals that stick with us the longest. This year, we were most enthralled by the simple pleasures of an excellent bowl of soup, a buttery croissant, and a plate of expertly prepared chicken and rice. In Nashville, New York, Athens, Toronto, and so many more cities, our staff headed to favorite restaurants in search of shredded chilly venison (Fatt Pundit, London), Hainan Burrata (Paris), soul-warming gumbo (Chicago), and countless other dishes that reminded us exactly why we love dining out. After a year of dedicated, near-obsessive eating, these dishes were our staff’s favorites of 2023.

Khao Man Gai at Nong’s

Portland, Oregon

When I touched down in Portland, OR, it was raining. The rain kept up as we taxied to the gate, as I waited for a car, and during the entire drive to my hotel. By the time I was showered and changed, the city was very gray and very wet. Still, I had been thinking about one thing, and one thing only: the khao man gai at Nong’s. Since 2009—originally as a food cart and now at two brick-and-mortar locations—the restaurant has been turning out plates of gently poached chicken served over heaping piles of rice. This chicken and rice is pretty much the entirety of Nong’s menu, save for a rich caramel-colored dipping sauce to drag each bite through and a golden broth to warm you up. Sitting in a corner window at the tiny downtown location, sipping soup and forking up the last grains of chicken-fat-slicked rice, I had a crystal clear appreciation of why this plate of meat and rice has become one of Portland’s defining dishes. —Elazar Sontag, restaurant editor

Shredded Chilly Venison at Fatt Pundit

London, England

As a fan of Indian and Chinese cooking, Fatt Pundit and its Hakka cuisine is my best-of-both-worlds restaurant. Naturally, this was the first meal I planned on a recent trip to London. Walking into the restaurant, I immediately felt soothed by the cozy atmosphere and soft lightning. I loved a rabbit wonton and a goat momo, but the dish that stood out most was shredded chilly venison. The venison was slightly chewier than beef but still rich and tender, with plenty of fiery red peppers and a smoky flavor. The meat was served with soft, subtly sweet mantou bread, and my first bites warmed me up. —Gigi Wong, senior analyst

Fried Apples at Audrey

Nashville, Tennessee

Chef Sean Brock is known for his obsession with heirloom produce, and his cookbooks changed the way I think about cooking and eating. So I made a beeline for his restaurant Audrey on my first night in Nashville. Brock is committed to preserving the culinary traditions of Appalachia, and the fried apples at Audrey are a clear example of his approach to food. They’re cooked in foie gras fat and practically melt when you take a bite. I also experienced the single most complex plate of pork I’ve ever tasted: a cut of Ossabaw, a heritage breed descended from pigs released on Georgia’s Ossabaw Island in the 16th century, served with red-eye gravy and exceptionally creamy rice. Still, the fried apples—an unassuming side dish—were the star of my meal. —Carina Finn, commerce editor

Bun Dau Mam Tom at Hu Tieu Mi Lacay Cho Lon

Falls Church, Virginia

I could spend an entire weekend eating and shopping in the culinary playground that is Eden Center, the largest Vietnamese American commercial center on the East Coast. If I had to pick only one restaurant to visit on a road trip detour, it would be Hu Tieu Mi Lacay Cho Lon. Its signature dish, hu tieu, is a Saigon-style noodle dish with roots in Teochew cuisine. It features delightfully chewy clear noodles in a rich broth with things like shrimp, fried tofu, quail eggs, and squid. But if the menu has bun dau mam tom when you go, you must order this popular dish from Hanoi, which involves a lot of crispy, crunchy, dippable bites. The restaurant’s mam tom, or fermented shrimp paste, is delightfully pungent and comes with a platter of rice noodles, herbs, pork belly, cha com, and tofu for dipping. Every few weeks or so, I seriously consider getting in my car and making the four-hour drive just so I can eat here again. —Carina Finn, Commerce Editor

Butter Croissant at Librae Bakery

New York, New York

I do not normally order a plain croissant. But on a recent visit to Librae, a Middle Eastern–inspired bakery in Manhattan with reliably out-the-door lines, it was not the viral rose-pistachio croissant or espresso-glazed pain au chocolat that called to me. It was a humble croissant. And let me tell you, it was anything but plain. I loved that it was saltier than most croissants, with the buttery and flaky texture of the finest laminated dough. Without the bells and whistles of added fruits and fillings, the simple, ethereal flavor of butter—salted, by my guess—truly shined. I pulled the claw of plush pastry from its flaky shell and ate it right there on the street. —Zoe Denenberg, associate cooking & SEO editor

Hainan Burrata at Reyna

Paris, France

The jury stands divided on whether diners are indeed sick of the pervasive plate-of-burrata appetizer that seemed to magically appear on every single menu in the early 2010s. But what I can tell you is that at Reyna, a small Filipino spot in Paris’s 11th arrondissement, the Hainan burrata is anything but boring. Sure, the centerpiece of the dish is a big ball of fresh, oozing cheese, but it’s covered in a mound of kecap manis (sweet soy sauce), ginger, chili oil, and scallions that topple into a pool of even more chili oil. The pungent, aromatic topping is just what creamy burrata really needs. This was the first plate to hit our table, and each bite made me even more excited to continue experiencing chef Erica Paredes’s thrilling cooking. And while the adobo chicken wings and pandan leche flan were equally memorable, I couldn’t stop thinking about that chili-oil-doused burrata. —Kate Kassin, editorial operations manager

Koji-Rubbed Lamb Chop at Beast Pizza

Toronto, Canada

I don’t like lamb. Not even a bit. To me, it tastes like the wrong end of the barnyard and usually serves to remind me of how little I enjoy eating meat these days. When one of the first dishes to hit the table at Beast Pizza in Toronto was a lamb chop, I (briefly) considered becoming a vegetarian on the spot. That would have been a massive mistake because, in chef Nathan Middleton's hands, I am apparently a lamb guy. Koji marination softens the texture and flavor of the meat, deepening its savory qualities yet reducing the funk. Meanwhile, crisp shards of cabbage nearby carried the restrained yet insistent power of fish sauce and chiles. I ate the cold leftovers of a tender meatball-and-fennel-jam-topped pizza while waiting for my return flight and was easily the happiest person at Toronto Pearson Airport. —Chris Morocco, food director

Sweet and Sour Pink Beets at Superiority Burger

New York, New York

The beloved vegetarian restaurant Superiority Burger closed in late 2021 and, for fans like myself, it was a long 17 months before its new location was ready. But the restaurant that eventually reopened in April, in a much larger space, is as close to perfect as I’ve experienced. The menu is all hits. A not-too-sweet cosmopolitan with tart cranberry juice and a punch of lime. A yuba sub overflowing with broccoli rabe and chickpeas convincingly masquerading as sausage. A rotating carousel of creamier-than-ice-cream sorbets. But the dish I can’t stop talking about is the beets. Cut into chunks, they are a little sour and a little sweet, piled next to a swoosh of jalapeño-studded cream cheese and showered in smashed pretzels. I thought about them the whole train ride home. (I live in New Jersey! Which is not close!) Luckily, the recipe was already waiting for me inside Brooks Headley’s Superiority Burger Cookbook. So whenever I can’t make it to the East Village, I can have those magical beets at home. —Emma Laperruque, senior cooking editor

Ceviche Verde at Masala y Maíz

Mexico City, Mexico

During five days with my mother in Mexico City in April, we spent more time eating than doing just about anything else. We ate squash blossom quesadillas on a street corner, standing hunched over our plates as melty cheese threatened to drip all over our clothes. We inhaled crackle-topped conchas and dipped churros in hot chocolate, tried the famed red and green pescado a la talla at Contramar, and scored a reservation at Pujol (!). But it was the late lunch we shared at Masala y Maíz that I find myself thinking back to longingly even half a year later. Chefs Norma Listman and Saqib Keval explore the intersection of Mexican and Indian cuisine and culture to utterly delicious results. Think whole prawns dunked in vanilla-and-chile-laced ghee, or an uttapam piled high with shreddy barbacoa and a crown of mint leaves. The dish that struck me hardest, though, was the ceviche verde. It was unlike any ceviche I’d ever had, a tantalizing mix of tender fish and fried chickpeas that managed to remain crisp even under a blanket of puréed serrano and lime. The fish arrived in a bowl topped with a wafer-thin tostada that we cracked into pieces and used to scoop the vibrant green contents underneath. Needless to say, we asked for more tostadas, intent on scraping up every last drop. —Alaina Chou, commerce producer

Feyrouz Lahmatzun at Feyrouz

Athens, Greece

After an exhausting marathon of sightseeing in Athens, my partner and I stumbled into a tiny, Levantine street food shop called Feyrouz. We were in dire need of a place to rest our legs and have a quick bite. It was around 5 p.m. on a bustling Saturday, and the shop was nearly sold out of everything. Since we were still curious—and very hungry—we ordered pretty much everything that was left. One of the dishes we received was the shop’s signature Feyrouz Lahmatzun, a flatbread decorated with herbaceous, rich minced beef. The bread was delightfully crisp, and the spiced minced beef still has me thinking about this dish at least a few times a week. It truly is my Roman Empire. —Julia Duarte, designer

Gumbo at Virtue

Chicago, Illinois

I made my dinner reservation at Virtue before I’d even booked my flight to Chicago. I’d been waiting more than three years to eat at chef-owner Erick Williams’s restaurant (helmed by chef de cuisine Damarr Brown) for a taste of his Southern cuisine and hospitality. I gathered some local friends and then tried to order the entire menu despite there being just three of us. We started with bubbly alcohol-free Sorrel Fizzes to sip on, then dove into crunchy verdant salads (Brown’s snap pea and crispy quinoa salad nearly took the mantel for my best dish of the year) and a collection of sides and larger plates so tempting we wanted to push our table together with another group’s just to try more. Sinking under all of this food, we nearly skipped the gumbo. Thankfully, our server, busser, and bartender were all so warmly insistent that we not miss it that they kindly split a single serving into three so everyone in our group could have a taste. It was love at first spoonful. After shivering through some seriously frigid Chicago weather, eating that gumbo felt like putting myself back together again. It was warmly spiced and steaming hot, teeming with sausage and chicken, and topped with a just-right scoop of tender Carolina Gold rice. Each bite was lusciously thick, enough to linger. I’d go back for everything we ate, but I’ll never try to skip the gumbo again. —Kelsey Youngman, senior cooking editor

Pineapple Bun at Kam Wah Cafe & Bakery

Hong Kong, China

While on a video shoot in Hong Kong, I indulged in some seriously memorable meals. There was a silky black chicken hot pot, giant mantis prawns, and a particularly delightful 2 a.m. run-in with handmade siu mai. Yet the dish I dream about hopping back on a 16-hour flight for is the pineapple bun paired with milk tea from Kam Wah Cafe. Hong Kong is known for its cha chaan teng (“tea restaurants”). The food at these restaurants is simple and well-executed, the seating is tight, and the service is lightning-fast. Within minutes of ordering at Kam Wah Cafe, my golden bun arrived steaming hot from the oven. The heat of the fresh pastry played perfectly against a generous pat of cold salted butter nestled at its center. The bun was subtly sweet with a tender chewy interior and crunchy sugared top. Paired with a cup of strong tea, there isn’t a better breakfast anywhere in the world. —Ali Inglese, director of content

Chicken-Fried Scrambled Egg Sandwich at The Café Hot

Burlington, Vermont

I was drawn to the Café Hot in Burlington, Vermont, by a menu of decked-out sandwiches on seeded milk buns, along with “basterd bing” and hot-honey chicken-fried biscuits. Upon closer inspection, I realized the entire menu was meat-free, and “chicken-fried” referred to battered, fried scrambled eggs. I ordered the “number 8, chicken-fried” and it was glorious. The bun was soft but sturdy enough to hold everything together. It was smeared with a healthy dose of tartar sauce and layered with pickled zucchini for a zingy pop, plus a smattering of shredded red cabbage for freshness. In the middle of it all was a craggy, crisp-crusted slab of fluffy scrambled eggs, just large enough to hang over the bun. A Google search for a recipe returned nothing but chicken-fried whole eggs. This is a dish I’m going to have to reverse-engineer for myself. —Vivian Jao, culinary researcher and recipe editor

Rice Rolls at Mimi Chinese

Toronto, Canada

I was on a culinary marathon for the full 48 hours I was in Toronto, eating my way through the city alongside local culinary authority Suresh Doss, so you might think the constellations of dishes, smells, and settings would eventually blend together. It was the opposite, with each thrilling bite slowing time down, begging for reflection. My last meal was in fact the best. The first sharp intake of breath after tasting the rice rolls at Mimi Chinese carried the electric jolt of wok hei, the signature char and depth of well-executed wok cooking. The chewy, plush folds of rice noodles held layers of toasty aromatic soy sauce, balanced by the sharp-sweet bite of scallion. Chef David Schwartz’s reverence for the signature flavors of classic regional Chinese dishes underpins the incisive use of ingredients and techniques to create simply stellar food. The only thing not in focus? The photo I tried to take of the dish, whose edges blurred in my excitement to capture the moment. —Chris Morocco, food director

Masala Dosa at Sapthagiri

Jersey City, New Jersey

After living in Brooklyn for 17 years, our moving to Jersey City has been full of adventure. As my partner and I adjusted to our extremely fixer-upper new home, we often found ourselves without an operational kitchen and desperately in need of a quick, comforting meal—something to warm our souls and remind us that all of this madness was worth it. Luckily, Jersey City is steeped in food culture—it’s been ranked the most ethnically diverse city in the country six years in a row. On one of those days we needed an easy meal, we headed to Little India and randomly chose a place to have lunch. The Masala Dosa at Sapthagiri was the very first dish we ordered. A crisp, tangy, and light dosa surrounded fluffy spiced potatoes, peas, and onions. It felt like a perfect welcome to the neighborhood. Since then, despite our now working kitchen, we have been back many, many times. —Mallary Santucci, culinary producer

Prawn Mee at Sago

Cincinnati, Ohio

Chef Paul Liew grew up in Kuala Lumpur and brought his love for Malaysian cuisine to Ohio with a restaurant called Straits of Malacca, focused on street food. Though Straits of Malacca has since closed, fans of Liew’s cooking can now find it at Sago, which opened in 2019 and has a rotating menu mostly featuring Cantonese-Malaysian dishes. Liew cooks with locally sourced ingredients to make dishes like bak kut teh, a brothy pork dish that I’ve rarely found on Malaysian menus in the US. Along with the pork, Liew’s version features crunchy bok choy and pillowy tofu puffs that soak up all the broth. His prawn mee—one of my favorite dishes—comes with two types of noodles: chewy, thick egg noodles and toothsome, thin rice noodles. The combination of the two provides a contrast between slurps of the delightfully rich and spicy coconut-heavy broth. This dish is all about comfort and texture, mixing tender shrimp, airy soup-drenched puffed tofu, crunchy bean sprouts, and crisp just al-dente-enough green beans. The dish gets topped with fried, frizzled shallots. –Urmila Ramakrishnan, associate director of social media

Squab at Nōksu

New York, New York

I don't usually hang out in a subway station unless my train is very delayed, but a recent meal at the fine dining restaurant Nōksu showed me that pure pleasure can be found in the bowels of the MTA. I was prepared to nibble at a lot of tiny, tweezered bites of food inside the bunker-like dining room hidden inside the 32nd Street entrance of Herald Square in Manhattan. Every one of the 12 courses on Nōksu's Korean-inspired tasting menu was hemmed and tailored to precision, but the eighth course was a wild sticky-fingered joy: a squab head, breast, and duck foot slathered in gochujang agrodolce that our server encouraged us to eat with our hands. I held the leg up and tore into meat that was tender and crisp with a bit of heat. The head was crumbly and crunchy, and despite consisting mostly of, well, bone, it was sort of sweet. The experience felt deeply satisfying the way gnawing on a sauce-covered bone-in piece of meat always does. I washed it down with a shot of beer that came as a beverage pairing, the whole thing a cheeky homage to the Korean comfort meal of fried chicken and beer. —Karen Yuan, culture editor