Ahead of the official North America’s 50 Best Restaurants 2026 awards ceremony in New Orleans, select media were invited into one of the week’s most intimate industry events: Meet the Chefs.

Hosted at The Ritz-Carlton New Orleans, the morning gathering brought together some of the most influential culinary voices for a rapid-fire roundtable format that somehow managed to feel both structured and surprisingly personal. Small groups of journalists rotated between chefs every twelve minutes, creating the kind of conversations that rarely happen once the cameras, stages, and awards-night chaos take over.

Not necessarily in rehearsed talking points or polished industry speeches, but in casual moments where the chefs addressed it all. Legacy. Burnout. Identity. Pressure. Creativity. Expectations.

This year’s lineup included:

• E.J. Lagasse of Emeril’s in New Orleans
• Vanya Filipovic and Marc-Olivier Frappier of Mon Lapin in Montreal
• Fidel Caballero and Sofia Ostos of Corima in New York
• Chad and Hanna Williams of Friday Saturday Sunday in Philadelphia
• Kwame Onwuachi of Dōgon and Tatiana in New York

Before diving into the conversations themselves, I want to acknowledge how grateful I am for the opportunity. As someone who has spent more than a decade covering restaurants, chefs, and the hospitality industry, moments like these never become routine. To spend quality time listening, learning, and sharing ideas with colleagues and some of the industry’s most accomplished professionals was a privilege I did not take for granted.

The first conversation that stayed with me came from E.J. Lagasse of Emeril’s.

While many people understandably focus on the famous last name, what I heard was a chef deeply committed to honoring New Orleans while continuing to push forward. “I didn’t open E.J.’s on Tchoupitoulas four years ago,” he said. “I’m the chef at Emeril’s.” Throughout the discussion, Lagasse spoke candidly about balancing innovation with tradition, even laughing about the time he changed the restaurant’s beloved banana cream pie only to receive a letter accusing him of ruining his father’s legacy. “You have to kind of jump off the ledge every now and again and just try to do it.” His passion for New Orleans itself was equally evident. “People sort of distort New Orleans down into this handful of jambalaya, gumbo, po’boys. Everything’s fried. It’s so much more than that.”

That same connection between food and identity surfaced again during my conversation with Kwame Onwuachi. When asked about family and cultural influence, his answer was immediate. “It’s just ingrained in me.” Onwuachi described his cooking through four pillars: Nigerian, Jamaican, Trinidadian, and Creole influences that continue to shape every menu he creates. “I always use whatever medium to tell those stories.” What impressed me most was his openness about the work behind the scenes. Despite operating multiple acclaimed restaurants, he spoke less about success and more about refinement. “The menu you open with is rarely the menu that you like.“

“Try to reach for perfection. We’re never going to attain it.” Those comments resonated. Excellence, in his view, is not a destination. It’s a continuous process.

The conversation with Chad and Hanna Williams of Friday Saturday Sunday revealed another side of hospitality entirely. While discussing burnout and motivation, Chad spoke honestly about the realities of restaurant life. “It’s hard. It’s a physical job.” Yet his answer quickly shifted toward partnership. “You enter those periods where you are burnt out, but then you have somebody to do it for. It’s not just for you.” One of the most touching moments came when he shared the story of an elderly guest who had dreamed of visiting the restaurant for years. The meal moved her to tears. “This is why I do it.” In an industry often obsessed with accolades and rankings, that story served as a powerful reminder that restaurants ultimately exist to create meaningful human connections.

From there, the conversation moved north to Montreal with Mon Lapin’s Marc-Olivier Frappier and Vanya Filipovic. Whether discussing food, wine, or guest experiences, both Frappier and Filipovic emphasized discovery over certainty, creating space for guests to explore rather than prescribing exactly what they should enjoy. One of Mon Lapin’s most beloved dishes was never meant to exist. Chef Marc-Olivier Frappier recalled ordering pristine scallops for a refined composed dish, only to receive a shipment of broken scallops typically reserved for chowder. Rather than view it as a setback, the team improvised, transforming the unexpected delivery into the now-iconic croque-pétoncle, a scallop-filled sandwich that Frappier assumed would appear on the menu for a single day. Four years later, it remains one of the restaurant’s signatures. What began as a solution to a supplier mistake became such a guest favorite that Mon Lapin ultimately restructured part of its kitchen operation, purchased additional equipment, and dedicated staff specifically to its production.

The final conversation of the morning was with Fidel Caballero and Sofia Ostos of Corima. If there was a theme that defined their discussion, it was authenticity. As they spoke about introducing diners to the cuisine of Northern Mexico, Caballero explained that many people are only familiar with a small piece of Mexican culinary culture. “Northern Mexico has a lot to offer. My Mexico is not the same Mexico as the people in the region.” Again and again, the conversation returned to the importance of remaining true to themselves. “It’s much easier not to wear a mask and just be yourself,” Ostos said. “I don’t have to be someone else when I show up to the restaurant.“

As North America’s 50 Best Restaurants prepared to celebrate rankings and achievements, I found myself thinking less about lists and more about the people behind them: The chefs, restaurateurs, partners, and teams who dedicate their lives to creating experiences that bring people together around a table.

For that perspective, and for the opportunity to hear these stories firsthand, I left New Orleans feeling incredibly grateful. And inspired.