Why do we eat out? Robert Moss ponders this question in his essay about the approachability and “chefiness” of food. He dines out for the same reasons I do. To find something new. To see a chef’s point of view. To experience something memorable. It’s too easy to make macaroni and cheese at home, or grill a steak, or toss together a fresh salad. What’s not easy is finding topnotch ingredients, or taking several days to make one dish with many components, or composing a perfectly balanced and beautiful plate. That’s why we save our money and go to the best restaurants with the most serious chefs. To get a taste of something extraordinary and have our minds blown by someone’s creativity and talent. I recently had a dish that did just that. It was made with the most exquisite vegetables and put together with tremendous care and thought. As soon as I saw it on the menu I wanted it — the nine-vegetable salad at FIG. Each veggie, at the height of its flavor, was painstakingly prepared — some were pickled, others blanched, some served raw — and they all came together in a perfectly composed salad I’d never dare spend so much time on at home. It was a magical dish that made me appreciate the chef’s skill and care with vegetables. And it made me happy that I was able to experience it. So that’s why I go out to eat. For dishes like the 9-vegetable salad at FIG. —Stephanie Barna
At the Dog and Duck Pub in Mt. Pleasant (1117 Park West Blvd., 843-881-3056), manager Justin Carter comes out of the kitchen wearing a gas mask and gloves and carrying a platter with a dozen wings on it. They are covered in a thick red sauce that unleashes waves of gaseous heat that you can smell from across the room. — Eric Doksa
Progress does not always connote forward motion. When man discovered how to create fire, civilization (and cuisine) immediately took a giant leap ahead. That was progress. — Stratton Lawrence
Once upon a time, the notion of fire and cocktails was relegated to the novelty of Flaming Dr. Pepper shots and jiggers of blazing Sambuca — the kind of drinks that, with one misstep, might require a visit from the fire department or a trip to the emergency room. — Robert Moss
Joe Raya, the co-owner and chief bartender at the Gin Joint, has stocked his establishment with a full-on arsenal of serious ice-making gear. There's the Japanese aluminum-alloy ice sphere mold, and the persnickety Kold-Draft machine that makes perfectly square 1½ inch cubes and crushes them to smithereens with the flip of a switch. But the Clinebell CB300x2 takes it to an entirely different plane. — Robert Moss
The latest buzz among those in the culinary know is about cooking over live fire. Of course, this isn't a new phenomenon — several sources cite that fire was first used as a cooking medium over 1 million years ago. — Nathan Thurston
Arguing the virtues of a great pizza is futile — deep-dish vs. thin crust, marinara vs. white, Chicago vs. New York. There is no right answer because when done correctly, they're all wonderful. Pizza is a common denominator in American society. Only its ingredients and preparation style are divisive. — Stratton Lawrence
Dessert has earned a reputation for being the cute kid in class. Sweet and unassuming, it's a simple and satisfying way to wrap up even the most dramatic meal. Yet a growing number of pastry chefs are no longer willing to accept this innocent stereotype. They're tapping into dessert's dark side by digging up smoky and icy-hot flavors often reserved for the main course, creating memorable dishes that more than compete with the rest of the meal. — Erica Jackson Curran
A lot has happened in the Charleston dining world since last summer. Of course, one could make that statement every year. Old restaurants close their doors and new ventures take their places. One chef gets tossed out of a noted kitchen, and another is lured away from a rival to fill the vacancy. This time around, though, it's more than just the usual turnover in an ever-changing industry. Something fundamental has shifted in local dining, and we've entered a new phase of our city's modern culinary history. — Robert Moss
