Parting Thoughts: Pete Wells, the Exit Interview

This summer, when The New York Times restaurant critic Pete Wells announced that he was hanging up his fork, a shudder was felt by a certain type of diner: those who looked to Wells’s columns not only for which hot new place had the heat but for a mature, sustained criticism ever more difficult to locate. For 12 years, in a city where dining is at once hallowed, blood sport, fetish, and way of life—Wells has established not only a voice of experience, but also one of insight, incisiveness, and even poetry. He hailed the worthy big shots—like Misi—as well as little gems, like Lechonera La Piraña, a trailer in the Bronx with divine roast pork in the style of Puerto Rico. There was a good deal of humor, as well as fearlessness: He took a philosophical broadsword to Guy Fieri’s Times Square debacle, and carved up the sacred cow that is Peter Luger (“There is the unshakable sense that I’ve been scammed.”) Through ramen mania, a pandemic, and the rise of chefs’ tables, Wells guided diners with the cheery confidence of a knowing uncle, without a whiff of patronizing. As he leaves his role behind, he shares with Edible Manhattan his favorite dustup, his favorite advice, and his favorite burger.

Question: What’s the best burger in New York?

Answer: I can give you a bunch: J.G. Melon is an amazing experience. Somehow, the Bloody Mary and the burger are perfect together. Hamburger America is an amazing joint.

Q: I was talking burgers with Missy Robbins recently. She likes Peter Luger’s.

A: The Peter Luger one is good when they cook it right. My whole Peter Luger review started with sitting at the bar at lunch and getting an overcooked burger. And I was just, like, “How hard is it, really?”

Q: Do you have a hero of food?

A: All the farmers market people. They brought me so much happiness just by bringing in their delicious tomatoes and herbs. And none of them are getting rich. It’s a very pure form of dedication.

Q: Do you have a hero of criticism?

A: [The late LA Weekly food critic] Jonathan Gold is a hero for just the seriousness, for his literary talent, dedication, and eight million other things.

Q: If there was a world where you could take those farmers market folks and Jonathan Gold to dinner in New York, where would it be?

A: I always wanted to take over the private room at Via Carota. I had a really great meal a couple weeks ago at Houseman. It really has a feel for the seasons, and how to eat. A lot of chefs know more about their craft than they do about what it feels like to sit down at a table and enjoy yourself.

Q: This is something I think about all the time.

A: Chefs are often performing for each other. Gosh, you guys, maybe pay attention to the plates coming back to the kitchen and see what people ate and didn’t eat.

Q: What’s the most memorable reaction to a review?

A: Peter Luger’s response to the review was just perfect [“The best steak you can eat. Not the latest kale salad”]. It’s not bitter, it’s not attacking me, except maybe suggesting that I am a person who goes out looking for the latest kale salad. I thought it was a terrific example of how to bounce back from a negative review without getting down to the gutter.

Q: What’s a memorable piece of feedback you received from an editor?

A: At the New Yorker, I was describing a piece that I wanted to write—it was structurally complicated and conceptually intricate—and this brilliant editor shook his head and said, “Think about the story you would assign to the dumbest writer you know and write that.”

Q: What doesn’t get enough attention in the New York dining scene?

A: Puerto Rican and Dominican restaurants. I asked myself, “What’s the best Puerto Rican restaurant in New York?” And I didn’t know the answer, which is how I ended up in the Bronx Village area at La Piraña. I think Caribbean food in general is slept on in New York City.

Q: What gets too much attention?

A: Tasting menus, for sure, and the self-conscious chef class. The fancy restaurant sector gets too much attention relative to everything else—to places that are not living by those values, necessarily, but they’re still trying to be excellent. And new places versus old places.

Q: Settle a debate between me and my friends: Is Balthazar for tourists only?

A: No. It’s a real New York restaurant that happens to be full of tourists. I am more and more fascinated by Balthazar. And I’m not fascinated by the food at all. The energy of the room comes down to the mix of people, the professionalism of the service. It’s astonishing to me, and it’s been maintained at that level for so long.

Q: You’re on Death Row. What’s your last meal?

A: I think it should just be a martini. Why should I have to eat? And I’m going to have to make it myself, because I don’t know how the prison bartenders are. And I’m going to need some really cold ice… this may be asking too much.

Q: When you order a meal and pick it up, what do you tip?

A: I tip 15%, but I do wonder. Tipping is such a mess.

Q: What restaurant do you miss most? For me, it’s Pearl Oyster Bar or Café Loup.

A: Florent was absolutely one of a kind, never to be reproduced. And I miss it all the time. Gosh, it was just so perfectly bohemian, in a way that American restaurants so rarely are. I appreciated that it was this celebration of people who dress differently, talk differently, like to eat kidneys—just a whole bunch of things that felt liberating. I also miss the New York that it served.

Q: What piece of advice would you give your successor?

A: Be careful of the damn lists. They’re trying to take over the world. The best of this, and the best of that; 10 things you must stuff in your mouth before you die. They’re the enemy of good writing, and the enemy of criticism.

Q: Any unfinished business?

A: I was driving on the L.I.E. the other week. And I’d always see these restaurants and neighborhoods on either side of the highway, and I wonder, “Is that Turkish restaurant over there any good?” And I’d mark out in my mind, “Come back here when I’m not driving somewhere and check out all these restaurants.” And I never did, and now I probably never will, because it’s not my job anymore.

This interview has been edited for space and clarity.