52 Weeks, One Restaurant, Zero Reservations: What They Finally Told Me After They Trusted Me
I didn't set out to become a regular. I set out to get lunch. But somewhere around week eleven, the server stopped handing me a menu, and somewhere around week twenty-three, the kitchen started sending things out that weren't on it. By the end of the year, I knew more about this one neighborhood restaurant than most food critics learn in a lifetime of single-visit reviews — and the education cost me nothing but time.