Take a Look Inside Keith McNally’s Passport

“I had no interest in writing about my life until it disastrously fell apart.” Restaurateur Keith McNally’s new memoir, I Regret Almost Everything, written after he suffered a stroke, is a window into multiple Downtown New York heydays. His establishments—The Odeon, Pastis, Balthazar and others—became cultural-culinary crazes with celebrity-filled rooms. The book serves gossip but it’s not merely a series of glossy tales, as McNally explores his flaws and successes in business and life. Here, his memorable places.

Paris Bar, Berlin / Photo: Alamy

Berlin

“Although I’ve been in the restaurant industry for 50 years, for most of that time I was ashamed of my job and aspired for something with more ‘meaning.’ In the early ’90s I left the restaurant industry and wrote and directed two films. The first did well, but the second- Far From Berlin– was a total flop. After spending the day shooting a film I didn’t believe in, I sought refuge in my favorite restaurant: Paris Bar. Its distinction wasn’t the food, but its charismatic owner, Michel Würthle. I was struck by his total command of the dining room. Artists flocked to Paris Bar, yet Würthle disliked the term ‘artists’ bar,’ and treated people according to their attitude, not their fame or status. Watching Würthle operate the Paris Bar made me realize that it’s not the job that gives a man dignity, it’s the man doing the job. Seeing Würthle work so seamlessly while my own world of film-making was falling apart, had a significant impact on me. After making Far From Berlin I lost all desire to direct another film.”

Balthazar, New York City / Photo: Alamy

New York City

“Like many immigrants, my desire to live in New York came from watching films. The odd thing about experiencing New York for the first time was that it seemed more like the films than the films themselves. Places rarely live up to expectations, but New York did—particularly its availability. Not that I needed to have an egg sandwich and a coffee at 3 in the morning, but knowing I could helped me sleep better. It still does.”

La Coupole, Paris / Photo: Alamy

Paris

“In 1978 Anna Wintour moved to Paris to live with her boyfriend, Michel Esteban, a French entrepreneur who’d made a fortune in the T-shirt business. After a few months—perhaps out of loneliness—Anna invited me to join her for a week. Knowing I was penniless, she even paid for my airfare and hotel.  Anna and Michel took me for dinner every night, usually to some of the best brasseries and bistros in Paris—La Coupole, Allard, Chez René, Vaudeville, Au Pied de Cochon, Balzar. My favorite was a place called Chez Georges. I loved the smell of escargots drenched in butter and garlic, the look of the red banquettes, the scored mirrors, the handwritten menu, the waiters with starched white, ankle-length aprons. Everything about the place stimulated me. Even the jug of pickled cornichons on the table.  By taking me to these incredible restaurants, Anna’s plan was to seduce me into remaining in France to work alongside her boyfriend. By the end of a long week having been treated to such terrific bistros and brasseries, I was thoroughly seduced: not by the idea of moving to Paris, however, but by the thought of returning to New York and building my own version of a Parisian brasserie.”

Pudding Shop , Istanbul / Photo: Alamy

Istanbul

“In 1970, Istanbul’s Pudding Shop was the most famous hippie café in Europe.This mecca for long-haired travelers served traditional Turkish food and played hip Western music. It also had stacks of Penguin paperbacks you could read without spending a cent. Every hitchhiker on the road knew the Pudding Shop. For hippies passing through Istanbul, it was a rite of passage to eat there. Its casual dining area had worn armchairs and a huge bulletin board covered with pinned-up notes for fellow travelers. Istanbul markets were filled with exotic smells of paprika, cumin, sumac and cinnamon—spices that were completely foreign to me. Seeing sacks of spices, freshly ground, lining the aisles of the city’s main bazaar sparked an interest in cooking which, until then, meant nothing to me.”