The following are suggestions for the best magazine articles (in English) ever. Stars denote how many times a correspondent has suggested it.  
 
This is a work in progress. It is a on-going list of suggestions collectively made by readers of this post. At this point the list has not been vetted or selected by me. It is incomplete.
Thanx ...
pookapooka: ... this is why I like LF
I'd give it two 10's if I could...
Dyskolos: ...just for the Dylan Playboy interview.
Dyskolos: ...and...
Classical beefsteak meat is carved off the shell, a section of the hindquarter of a steer; it is called "short loin without the fillet." To order a cut of it, a housewife would ask for a thick Delmonico. "You don't always get it at a beefsteak," Mr. Wertheimer said. "Sometimes they give you bull fillets. They're no good. Not enough juice in them, and they cook out black." While I watched, Mr. Wertheimer took a shell off a hook in his icebox and laid it on a big, maple block. It had been hung for eight weeks and was blanketed with blue mold. Then he boned the shell and cut it into six chunks. Then he sliced off all the fat. Little strips of lean ran through the discarded fat, and he deftly carved them out and made a mound of them on the block. "These trimmings, along with the tails of the steaks, will be ground up and served as appetizers," he said. "We'll use four hundred tonight. People call them hamburgers, and that's an insult. Sometimes they're laid on top of a slice of Bermuda onion and served on bread." When he finished with the shell, six huge steaks, boneless and fatless, averaging three inches thick and ten inches long lay on the block. They made a beautiful still life. "After they've been broiled, the steaks are sliced up, and each steak makes about ten slices," he said. "The slices are what you get at a beefsteak." Mr. Wertheimer said the baskets of meat he had prepared would be used that night at a beefsteak in the Odd Fellows' Hall on East 106th Street; the Republican Club of the Twentieth A.D. was running it. He invited me along.  
 
"How's your appetite?" he asked.  
 
I said there was nothing wrong with it.  
 
"I hope not," he said. "When you go to a beefsteak, you got to figure on eating until it comes out of your ears. Otherwise it would be bad manners."  
 
Joseph Mitchell, A Reporter at Large, "ALL YOU CAN HOLD FOR FIVE BUCKS.," The New Yorker, April 15, 1939, p. 40  
Yes
smile1: Dylan + Playboy = Winning Combination
FoolProof: Lol, that's a dudes name. Pfft!
Dyskolos: Lolthat. His initials'd be D.P.
pneum0nic: /me thought you were talking about my friend, W.C.