America’s love affair with wallpaper has reached a lusty pitch. We’re gift-wrapping walls now with a zeal not seen since the 1920s when it seemed Victorian OBGYNs were catching newborns in the stuff. And the new wallpaper vanguard is not subtle. The wilder and clashier, the better. I’m all for it. Seemed like the last decade of restaurant design was abandoned-building minimalism.

The city’s best chefs were serving meals in rooms of slab concrete where the only design flourishes were stalactites of old carpet glue as we stared at crumbly brick walls surrounded by a Pittsburgh amount of steel. The whol scene seemed destined to peak one day when we’d find ourselves eating trendy Michelin food while sitting cross-legged on a pile of rebar.