SPOTTED
Welcome back to #EmerilHive, a weeklyish newsletter by Becca Thimmesch. Have you subscribed?
I contain many multitudes so I regret to inform you that this is the second newsletter in a row that is, essentially, about Gossip Girl.
Essentially.
I read a fair amount of celebrity gossip. Not because I’m particularly invested in any given celebrity (save Bennifer), but rather because I’m deeply addicted to scrolling. One of my favorite Sunday Scrolls is the weekly Spotted stories on Deux Moi, the anonymous IG account oft lauded as our real life Dan Humphrey.
The premise is simple enough: if you see a celebrity, send a DM. It’s a repository for things ranging from “I saw Nicholas Braun eating ice cream on West 12th” to “my roommate has been sleeping with [MARRIED CELEB] for 2 years and has met his children.” It’s probably—definitely—very structurally bad for our culture but much more importantly it has me thinking about what the fuck celebrities eat for dinner.
If you follow literally any type of celebrity gossip or even check your Instagram discover tab from time to time, you’re likely familiar with Craig’s. Poised on Melrose, Craig’s is renowned as one of the ultimate places to spot the rich and famous out to dine. It’s where the Kardashians go when tired of Nobu, where Lizzo rolls up with a cadre of impeccably dressed friends and where John Mayer sits at a table alone.
Now, I want to clarify that I have never dined at this establishment. But having a complete lack of experience of something has never stopped me from being a hater, and it surely won’t now.
An immediate glance at the menu tells me that Craig’s is that sort of steakhouse where it’s like, also East Coast Italian American. That’s fine! I like The Palm. I can also see that it’s very expensive. Twenty bucks for a starter, mid-thirties for a main, etc. A few hilarious menu items stick out, like pigs in a blanket or a vegan pasta primavera that lists marinara sauce. But don’t judge a menu by it’s contents, right?
The following are some guest-provided pictures, just for a laugh.
I don’t really mean to harp on one particular restaurant. I remember when Drake took a (very young) date to RPM Italian before his DC show. I know that being a celebrity or generally wealthy doesn’t mean you’re a tastemaker.
I’m just truly, genuinely cracking up at the idea of strutting through the paparazzi in full drip to sit in a restaurant that looks like a B-side Trump golf course watering hole.
I scrolled, as I am want to do, through the list of Deux Moi recommended spots for celebrity sightings. I’ve decided that there are three categories: the understandable, the dated, and the bizarre.
The understandable, as you might guess, are places where it’s like, OK, I get it. Like I get why you would want to dine at Balthazar. Or Faena in Miami Beach. Or Via Carota or Le Diplomate or even the Polo Lounge. Restaurants with good food and a fun vibe because people, understandably, like those things.
The dated refers mostly to sushi restaurants with Y2K vibes. You know, restaurants that look like you’re about to watch Betty Suarez realize that she’s not like the other girls at Mode, and that’s okay, for the fiftieth time. Nobu and anything with Fish already in the title (sexy, sugar, etc). Places where you know that a celebrity could do better but you have to respect their brand loyalty.
Then of course, the bizarre. Craig’s. Saddle Ranch, which I assumed was a bit from Sex and the City but is a real place where Tik Tokers eat. Mostly steakhouses with inexplicable vibes that seem to be famous because they … are famous? Weird mobius strip sorta thing.
I am struggling to understand the allure. Is it to be photographed? Surely one could arrange a pap outside of somewhere delicious. To be gawped at? I can’t imagine why that would be desired. Is it that the waitstaff is so familiar with famous clients, and that’s like, a good thing? I don’t know.
Perhaps most likely, as Helen Rosner writes about Carbone, people LOVE scarcity. Exclusive restaurants beget exclusivity. People went to The Shed at Dulwich. A place like Craig’s must operate along a similar line.
But Carbone is admittedly good. The Shed was an elaborate ruse. Craig’s looks bad! I don’t get it.
I remembered a story I read forever ago about the Kardashian-Jenner salads, famously eaten on numerous earlier episodes of KUWTK. OK, maybe these ladies just have sort of … pedestrian taste. And I’ll buy that John Mayer does too. But Elton John??
If you, or someone you know, can tell me what the deal is, you know where to find me.
Another Week
I went to Scotland, where the food is worse than in England but better than in Wales. I actually had an incredible (vegan!) arepa and healed myself after almost a year of no arepas whatsoever. I also got average nachos so that I could purchase a grapefruit Jarritos which I’m told are very expensive to import. I ate a big sandwich in the Scottish highlands—duh. I’m in full dissertation crunch time so if you see me having any sort of fun or watching even a little Call the Midwife I need you to intervene.
Emeril Update
I’ve long known that Martha Stewart owns Emeril’s brand, but I just learned that her brand is now owned by some other giant media conglomerate. Business!