Last month, I recommended Keith McNally‘s memoir, I Regret Almost Everything; and I was in good company. For a while—the book came out in May—it felt like everyone I knew was reading McNally’s book, and loving McNally’s book. In it, he goes into great detail about his stroke, and subsequent suicide attempt, and the recovery process; his love life; and the logistics behind becoming one of New York’s most successful restaurateurs (he’s known for Balthazar, Minetta Tavern, and Pastis, among others)—but what was most striking for me, while reading it and in hindsight, was how self aware he is:
The James Beard Awards are the American restaurant industry’s equivalent to the Oscars, and equally repulsive. I had first attended one of the ceremonies in 1998 and loathed everything about it. Watching chefs and restaurateurs I admired act so sycophantically toward self-important food critics made me think twice about being in the same business. And the winners’ acceptance speeches were so self-indulgent and humorless that I vowed never to attend one again.
When I was nominated in 2010 for the country’s outstanding restaurateur, I stuck to my promise and refused to go to the ceremony. I sent my daughter Sophie instead. Surprisingly, I won. Sophie collected the medal on my behalf and handed it to me the next day. A week later, disgusted with myself, I threw it in the garbage.
This kind of self-loathing had gnawed at me for years, and the more successful I became, the worse it got. It seemed that my entire life in New York was based on deception. I’d flourished as a maître d’ not through hard work but as a result of an eagerness to tailor my character—Zelig-like—to fit the customer. I won the guest over with superficial charm or phony self-deprecating humor. When building my own restaurants, I designed them to deceive just as meticulously as I’d designed my character.*
So I was thrilled when McNally agreed to be the inaugural interviewee for our new column, “Five Questions for” (we’re workshopping that name. Open to suggestions).
KB: I don’t read a lot of memoirs, because they tend to be flowery, or disingenuous, or self-important. You managed to sidestep all of these qualities with yours. (Your Instagram became famous because of your honesty, so I think it’s safe to say that’s who you are.) Still: during the writing process, did you ever go back and fix something because it felt insincere or braggadocious to you?
KM: Because I detest how disingenuous I can be, writing my book was mostly about rewriting it. Even when I was certain I’d reached the core of the matter I’d discover the next day I wasn’t anywhere close. Writing was and is an ongoing battle between how I wanted to be seen and how I really am. Anyone who writes an honest memoir should read the finished book and cringe at most of what’s on the page.
KB: You’ve had your share of controversies—likely due to the aforementioned honesty. Which one are you most proud of, or most likely to talk about if prompted (or not)?
KM: “Proud” isn’t a word I trust. But there are certain controversial subjects I’ve touched on that I’m not entirely unhappy about. My support for Woody Allen is one of them. I believe Allen is completely innocent of molesting his daughter, Dylan.
Most of the people I know in the film business feel the same way, but 98% of them are too fucking spineless to say so publicly.
KB: What is the worst question you’ve been asked in an interview? (It can be this one.)
KM: “Keith McNally, the fact that you’ve gone public with your support for Zohran Mamdani for mayor leads many to believe you’re antisemitic. Are you antisemitic?”
KB: What’s the dish you love the most, at any of your restaurants, open or closed?
KM: Cherche Midi had a simple appetizer we called Parmesan Custard. I still think about this dish every single day—12 years after Cheche Midi closed!
The custard was made with whole eggs, heavy cream, whole milk and grated parmesan. The dish came with toast spread with anchovy butter.
KB: And what are your go-to restaurants in New York (not your own)?
KM: Raoul’s, Via Carota, Il Buco, Blue Ribbon Sushi.
KB: A bonus question, because we ask this of all our podcast guests, and now I want to ask you: What did you have for dinner last night?
Peaches with burrata, small steak tartare with quail’s egg, pasta con le sarde. (And two glasses of rosé.)
*Excerpted from I Regret Almost Everything by Keith McNally. Copyright © 2025 by Keith McNally. Reprinted by permission of Gallery Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC.
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