Topjaw and the unruly quest for the perfect meal

More than ever before, friends and colleagues have been putting me on the spot. What’s your favorite restaurant in London? In New York? The best croissant? Your favorite bagel? The most overrated place you’ve ever eaten? And on and on.

I consider myself a discriminating diner, but I find this demand for blanket declarations quite discomfiting. I blame a lot of it on Topjaw, the hugely popular social media account with a presence on Instagram, TikTok and YouTube. Topjaw is produced by Jesse Burgess, the on-screen presence, and Will Warr, who’s behind the camera. Burgess pops presumptuous questions to chefs, celebrities and a whole range of foodies — eliciting apparently off-the-cuff, sometimes jovial, sometimes cruel answers — a frankness that’s integral to Topjaw’s draw. It’s all mitigated by Burgess’ genial charm and good looks. But at times, when the comments are cutting, Topjaw comes close to being Yelp on video, if even more brusque no matter the chuckles and smiles.

Still, it’s engrossing. A memorable riposte came when Burgess told Ed Sheeran that the bakery the singer had just named as his favorite often came up among Topjaw’s most overrated. Sheeran casually raised his middle finger. I can relate to that comeback: Take that, all you who dare question my tastes! But then I realized that I was assenting to the kind of cocksure crosstalk that finally turned X/Twitter into an inhospitable place.

Peak dining experience is ultimately what Topjaw, Yelp and Google restaurant reviews, and numberless websites, columns and magazines devoted to food are all about. We want to figure out what’s the best, especially when everything seems to cost more. If you must spend a good deal of money on a meal, you want to make sure there’s a memorable payoff. And so we focus on the folks in the know, or at least those whose job is to say nay — or yay!

I post a lot of my restaurant outings on Instagram. But I tailor my recommendations — when asked politely — to the needs of the prospective diner. As the English food writer Elizabeth David wrote back in 1959: “The enjoyment of food and wine seems to be to lie in having what you want when you want it and in the particular combination you fancy.” Furthermore, good meals are more than the food on the plate. You need to add hospitality, timing and desire to the equation.

I often head to restaurants where I have a sense of home — even if home can evoke a variety of sensations, a textured experience so to speak. What’s your favorite restaurant for motherly advice? I have several to suggest. There are so many categories that extend beyond the printed menu. The restaurant most ready to clue you in to a special event? Quick to warn you not to engage with a troublesome customer? Ready to ask a billionaire to shift his bar stool so you have room to sit? That last has only happened to me once, but the maitre d’ involved didn’t hesitate to ask Rupert Murdoch to move.

The price of entry usually involves being a regular. But to know where to go for the meal that’s perfect for the moment in life you find yourself? Priceless.

Service, friendship and good cooking often come together for the perfect meal. For me, the restaurant that provides that combination might just be down the street or a mile or two away on foot. That’s convenient for me when I dine out, which is practically every night since I am a middling-to-bad cook. You don’t have to haul off on continent-crossing quests to find the exemplary meal.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t dream of faraway destinations — or once and future restaurants. One day, I’d like to go to the Thai city of Udon Thani, across the Mekong from the Laotian capital of Vientiane. There is an Isan-style restaurant called Samuay & Sons, where chef Weerawat Triyasenawat goes foraging in the woods outside the city for plants and insects that will be part of the dishes he sets out. A jungle-to-table feast, enticing because it is completely unfamiliar.

On this side of the Eurasian land mass, I’m looking forward to the return of Magnus Nilsson. In 2019, he closed his magical restaurant Faviken, which was located four degrees south of the Arctic circle in Sweden. It was a farmhouse where you could dine on a slew of gorgeous dishes — and then stay overnight to have a sumptuous but homey breakfast before flying back to Stockholm. After a few years growing apples and pears as well as working in Copenhagen, Nilsson just announced he is renovating a 120-year-old house, this time in Båstad in the south of Sweden, turning it into a restaurant-inn. He’s an astonishing talent and I can’t wait to be able to get there.

A flawless series of dishes served with practiced professionalism can lead to perfection. But joy may also be unpresuming and serendipitous, something you didn’t know you needed when it suddenly just happens to you — say, that cappuccino with a marmalade-filled cornetto at a coffee shop you chanced upon in an unfamiliar city while on holiday. It’s indelible because it’s irreplicable, a product of anxiety soothed by a particular blend of coffee beans and steamed milk to become surprise and comfort under the hospitable gaze of a barista who remains benignly silent. Sometimes, that’s all the perfection you need.

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This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Howard Chua-Eoan is a columnist for Bloomberg Opinion covering culture and business. He previously served as Bloomberg Opinion's international editor and is a former news director at Time magazine.