The Top Restaurant Trends in New York City for 2026

nytimes
By nytimes
6 Min Read


Was it an expedition, a crusade or a descent into madness? In scouting for the list of New York’s 100 best restaurants, I trekked the length and breadth of the five boroughs and dined at more than 200 restaurants. Along the way, I took photos and furtive notes, trying to track the pulse of the city.

I also kept a mental file of trends, annoyances, observations and small joys. Here are a few:

A month’s worth of reservations drop all at once. It could be at midnight, 9 a.m. or noon. I set my alarm for five minutes in advance. I pull up the official U.S. time online so I’ve got it down to the second. I key up the app. I flex my wrists. I try to channel the mind of an F1 driver. And lights out: I pounce. Except I can’t click through. The calendar goes gray. I refresh. I search again. I have two platforms going, mobile and desktop. Time slots pop up, vanish, pop up again. I make it all way to the credit card page before it freezes. I start all over.

Dining rooms are getting dimmer. Chic little lamps glow but do not illuminate, which seems a failure of mission. Sometimes this is sexy; sometimes I just can’t see.

Bathrooms are even dimmer. And they’re often worlds unto themselves, complete with soundtracks: birdsong, frogsong, Italian language lessons, Bruce Willis singing “Under the Boardwalk.” They might be swanky sanctuaries of red bamboo or Murano glass, or, more archly, decked out in ads from pre-revolution Iran, giant Day-Glo peacocks or the artist Dominique Fung’s fakeout chinoiserie of cranes in compromising positions.

The restaurants keep texting me. Warning me. We kindly ask that you arrive promptly. Arriving more than 10 minutes late may impact your overall experience. But please arrive no more than five minutes ahead. Don’t wear ripped jeans, T-shirts, baseball caps or athleisure. (And yet everybody does.) You’re due in 30 minutes. Your table is ready. Check in now. Reply 1 if you’re on your way. Lest you feel too wanted, to ensure all of our guests are able to enjoy their evening, we offer a 90-minute dining experience. (And yes, one restaurant actually enforced this, gently shooing us out. “We can’t order dessert?” one of my companions asked plaintively. Our server smiled: “Only to go.”)

Stop saying this. It’s officially untrue.

God help us, we’re still eating too much of the stuff. Sorry to those sturgeons.

The “it” crustacean is royal red shrimp, caught in the icy waters 3,000 feet deep off Montauk. Larger than its common cousin, it’s as sweet and luscious as lobster. Take that, caviar.

Here come the carts, rolling through the dining room, docking at tables with a swoop, ferrying martinis, caviar, prime rib. Or a twist: a server with a tray hung by a strap around the neck, bearing chaat and wooden spoons, like a ballpark vendor hawking Cracker Jacks.

Restaurant margins are so tight, even the fanciest spots can’t always hire someone with actual training in making desserts. Thus …

… the continued ubiquity of soft serve, which is generally less expensive and labor-intensive to make. (No complaints: Superiority Burger’s soft serve still rules.)

Other restaurants go big, with large-format desserts — great domed clafoutis and ice cream bombes in a blistered armor of meringue — built (and priced) for two. Though I would argue that all desserts are meant to be shared.

Sometimes the cocktails are better than the food, and sometimes the mocktails are even better than the cocktails. Forget the wine pairing; more restaurants are offering zero-proof accompaniments to carry you through your 10-course meal. God tier: Get the tea pairing.

Almost daily, preparing for my treks around town, I opened Google Maps to find every subway line delayed. Fine. Bring a book. It’s worth however long it takes to step out in Elmhurst in Queens, Brighton Beach in Brooklyn, or Parkchester in the Bronx, where you’ll find some of New York’s — and America’s — most exciting places to eat. The city is the city in all its corners. And who can beat the vision at night from the Staten Island Ferry, of darkling Manhattan across the water, preening and casting its sparks?

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