When it comes to travelling, my plans are almost exclusively shaped by food. Restaurants that require a table reservation warrant road-trip detours, and places to stop for street food punctuate days of sightseeing. Next month I am looking forward to a trip back to Scotland with my boyfriend, who has never been to the country. Fish and chips are top of his Scottish culinary wish list ― although little does he know that he will leave the Highlands with haggis as his gastro MVP. When chatting about where to go in pursuit of the best fish and chips for him to try, I gravitated to Anstruther Fish Bar, a small family-run fish and chips shop on the east coast of Scotland. It seemed like a no-brainer — it’s been voted the best fish and chips in Scotland time and time again and it is a scenic drive from Edinburgh en route to St Andrews. Win, win. Then came the chippie plan plot twist, via my dad. He’s no M Night Shyamalan, but he did announce, with conviction, that if we’re looking for the best fish and chips, we’d find it at the end of our road. It transpires that the local fish and chip shop had, in fact, won the <i>Edinburgh Evening News</i>’s Chip Shop of the Year … in 2015. Not to minimise the accolade, but you can walk past pretty much any chippie in the UK and there will be a "best of" article clipping or award on display. This is where we came unstuck: with the word "best". The adjective is thrown around constantly when it comes to food and drink. We all laughed at the scene in <i>Elf</i> when Will Ferrell’s character dashed into a coffee shop to applaud a bewildered staff, shouting: “You did it! Congratulations, world’s best cup of coffee!” While few of us are as earnest as Buddy, we are in danger of being so inundated by lists claiming to be qualified to label dishes, drinks and restaurants as the best of the best, that they barely register. Have we reached over-saturation when it comes to culinary lists and guides? In the past year, Dubai has gone from nought to a hundred in terms of fine-dining guides. The Michelin Guide is, undoubtedly, the most famous gastronomic review and rating series globally. There have been rumours of a UAE Michelin guide for years, but before it made its way to Dubai this summer, World's 50 Best introduced Mena's 50 Best Restaurants list to the region in February. Then the Gault&Millau UAE restaurant guide launched in June, about a week before Dubai’s Michelin stars were dished out. In the space of four months, we have been snowed under with gastronomic lists; one that spans the Mena region, one that is UAE-wide and one that is Dubai specific. I am not bemoaning choice, and certainly don’t think there should be a monopoly on culinary guides. But in those four months, they have already become self-contradictory. This week, the World's 50 Best Restaurants 2022 list was revealed in London. The list takes into account the best of the offerings from the six global categories: Latin America, North America, Mena, Africa, Asia and Europe. At the beginning of July, two of <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/lifestyle/food/2022/02/07/worlds-50-best-reveals-menas-50-best-restaurants-list-in-abu-dhabi/">Mena's 50 Best Restaurants</a> made the World's 50 Best Restaurants "spotlight" list, which extends past the top 50, charting the world's top 51 to 100 eateries. Tresind Studio came in at No 57, while Orfali Bros was at No 87 in the extended list. No mean feat, it was the first time either restaurant has made it on to the extended global list. In the Mena's 50 Best Restaurants list, Tresind Studio was No 4 and Orfali Bros was at No 6. Fast forward to this week, and the big World's 50 Best Restaurants 2022 list reveal. Ahead of the event, it was assumed that the top three eateries on the Mena list — <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/lifestyle/food/hidden-gems-3-fils-anchors-jumeirah-fishing-village-with-the-best-tuna-in-town-1.738635">3 Fils</a> and <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/lifestyle/food/how-zuma-dubai-has-managed-to-stay-relevant-for-10-years-1.784832">Zuma</a> in Dubai, and OCD Restaurant in Tel Aviv — would make the cut for the world’s top 50, yet they were notably absent. I am not claiming to understand the inner-workings of a network of 1,080 anonymous restaurant critics across 27 regions, but can’t help but find their conclusion contradictory. So is there something in a Buddy approach? Throwing lists out of the window and taking restaurants and cafes at face value, finding great meals by chance? This summer I'll try to stay away from the recommendations of high-end lists, in favour of suggestions from friends and happened-upon spots in new cities, making my own "best of" list.