A Love Letter to the Unicorns
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More than a few times, I landed at JFK on an icy winter weeknight, with a simple goal to get to Manhattan in time to sneak into the bar before closing at Foul Witch.
Sitting at the counter, I would be surrounded by lava lamps, neon-lit faux jellyfish, and giant mounds of butter in a restaurant self-described as “spooky Italian.” It’s a descriptor that didn’t make much sense, until it did — not dissimilar to the creative Italian food coming out of Brandon Hoy and Carlo Mirachi’s kitchen. In the sea of trattorias and red sauce joints, there was only one quite like Foul Witch, serving up dishes like amaretto tortellini, a punk rock remix of the flavors of my Italian American childhood, somehow blending dessert, liquor, sweetbreads, and tortellini.
On those nights alone at Foul Witch, I felt a sensation I increasingly love in a restaurant: That this is a dining experience that I can’t get anywhere else in the world.
To me, this defines a “destination restaurant.”
And so, this is my appreciation of the unicorns, the ones that dare to be different.
I love that there are boots and dresses on the wall and avocado tacos on the menu at Lorena Zertuche’s Loló in San Francisco. I marvel at the breadth and wealth of taco styles in the Mission District that Loló calls home, but I also love that chef Jorge Martínez is the only one there that uses jicama tortillas.
A few blocks away, I love that Kayla Abe and David Murphy opened an entirely monochromatic restaurant (Shuggie’s) centered around food waste.
I love the karaoke machine in the bathroom at Tâm Tâm in Miami.
I love the peanut shells at Chez Jay in L.A.
I love that Mashama Bailey and Johno Morisano chose a Savannah bus station to house their game-changing restaurant, The Grey.
I love the fish tank behind the bar at Mister Jiu’s in San Francisco, and a few blocks up the hill, the swimming pool at the Tonga Room.
I love the tickets at Katz’s in New York, and the pickle jar at Tommy’s Joynt in San Francisco.
I loved how Animal — may it rest in peace — turned pig ears and poutine into stoner food, and that Yamashiro in Los Angeles is basically a castle.
The restaurant business is one that rewards very few operators. And it rewards even fewer operators who take chances and try to do something outside the box. Case in point: Foul Witch closed in late 2025.
It’s a reminder to appreciate — and support — those unicorns when you see them. Unique restaurants and the people who run them make our cities special.
