I ate many great dishes when I was restaurant critic for The New York Times, and many awful ones too. The great ones, though, could sear themselves into my memory, become lodestars of delight. My attempts to cook it, though, even with fine Madeira and Cognac to amplify the butter, even with a nicely set table and candles winking, were failures every time. Such was the case with the meatloaf I devoured in the dining room of M. Wells in Queens, a stainless-steel diner in Long Island City that was then occupied by the chef Hugue Dufour and his wife, Sarah Obraitis. Then they were just starting out, and M. Wells had the antic, adrenalized feel of punk rock or experimental theater.

Source: New York Times February 13, 2019 09:56 UTC