2011, we tip our collective hat to you—you gave us all a bounty of sexy new hotels, pop-up restaurants and indie movie houses. Let’s get started recounting the good stuff. Starting, of course, with fried chicken.
Top Chef’s Jeff McInnis returned after leaving Gigi—and this time he brought the fried chicken. And the shrimp and grits. And a bartender with a serious bourbon collection. You naturally approved. The homemade biscuits didn’t hurt, though.
So yeah, the Dream. We may have mentioned it a time or two. But hey, we were seduced by the arabesque sexiness, including Tudor House and the rooftop Highbar. Soon, the whole area was a blur of bikinis, homemade Oreos and penthouse parties. Your favorite kind of blur.
Finally you had a Downtown spot to feast on Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches, craft beers and pig head terrines. Then, in December, they closed. But cheer up, we hear the team’s got another project in the works—permanent this time. Here’s hoping the pig heads come with them.
Your movie night routine was rocked to the core by the influx of these two theaters. Now, not only could you catch obscure foreign films, you could also do it all in Wynwood (or Miami Beach) while having beer, wine and chocolate-covered popcorn. Which tends to make good things happen.
You always knew there was more to shopping on Lincoln Road than bejeweled jeans and mesh tank tops (not to mention bejeweled mesh tank tops). Then along came this Aspen-based trove of Japanese headphones, coyote-fur blankets and Swiss underpants. For when you need to stock up on the essentials.
Your weekend trip portfolio was nicely diversified with a cabin—this cozy cottage on an organic farm in Homestead. It was a convenient crash pad for you and your date after one of the farm’s monthly wine dinners. Consider the bags of avocados you brought home a bonus.
Just in time for Basel mayhem—and the unofficial start of the season—NY chef Andrew Carmellini opened a South Beach outpost of his comfort food canteen. Which meant oyster sliders, Naomi Campbell sightings and... fresh-baked blueberry pies. It made sense at the time.
