Vidalia isn't quite so brand new anymore having opened in 1993, but it's still one of the very popular somewhat newer places in the West End of Washington's downtown area. Their great claim to fame is that they feature regional cuisine from the American South, but with an elegant gourmet bent. Since their remodel in 2003, they've broadened their menu out a bit to be more generically American, but they still have their Southern flair. CIA graduate Jeffrey Buben is the chef and owner both of Vidalia and its sister French restaurant on Capitol Hill, Bistro Bis. We've tried to get Restaurant Week reservations the past couple of Weeks to no avail, but this go-round we were thrilled to be able to reserve a table in the bar at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night.
We walked to the restaurant that evening in all the wind and cold. The M Street at 20th Street venue has an interesting location in the basement of an office building. Inside their space, everything is designed with a contemporary but comfortable and accessible feel. A maitre d' stand is at the bottom of the staircase, where we were greeted and our coats checked. The bar area with dining tables is separated from a large dining room by glass partions, and I did not feel disadvantaged at all by having to be seated in the bar instead of the main dining room. Our particular table happened to be right by their see-through walk-in wine cellar where they kept their chilled white wines, including a very interesting champagne cart loaded with bottles of every conceivable high-end vintage.
Choosing our meal was challenging because of all the mouth-watering options for us two Southern boys (Robert is from Arkansas) and the fact that Vidalia makes their whole menu available for Restaurant Week, just with a few items having small surcharges. I always make a point to stick to the non-surcharged items during Restaurant Weeks, and I almost violated my rule, because the shrimp and grits on the menu sounded so good; I still managed to put together a fabulous meal, though, without paying more than the fixed price.
For a first course, I selected the five onion soup. The onions had been slowly sauteed and caramelized, then stewed in a tasty duck broth that included some duck confit and shitake mushrooms. I particularly appreciated the absence of a crouton and cheese in the "French" style, and found this version surprisingly good.
Robert, being the wealthy politico, sprang for a surcharge and ordered the oyster pan roast. He got a plateful of Virginia oysters mixed with pieces of Virginia country ham, Swiss chard, and artichoke hearts which had been baked together with mingling natural juices and a splash of cream to make almost a stew, and he said it was quite good.
To accompany our first courses and serve as our aperitif cocktails, we had a little alcohol. Robert had a Dewars on the rocks. Vidalia's wine list included about three dozen wines available both by the glass and by the half pour, so I decided to do wine with dinner, and asked our very solicitous waiter to select appropriate half-pour wines for me for each course, and he (with the assistance of their sommalier) did a fabulous job. For my onion soup, he brought a 2004 Mikulski Gamay/Pinot Noir from the Burgundy region of France. This wine, as with all the others, was nicely full bodied, fruity, and dry and meshed nicely with the accompanying food.
The main courses continued our adventures. Robert had the Carolina rainbow trout which had been crusted in what looked like a cornmeal and chorizo sausage crust and served with an interesting sweet potato, crayfish, crab and vegetable hash; a bright green sauce made from green onions was all over the plate. He washed down the fish with another Dewars. Meanwhile, I was experiencing an exciting pork chop cassoulet. Traditional cassoulet, of course, is a fancy French way of making a white bean and meat stew or casserole, often with goose or duck confit and pork or lamb sausage, and lots of garlic and herbs. Vidalia's version put pork sausage and some wonderful slow roasted pork belly in the stew pot with great big lima beans and then covered the whole thing with an herbed, juicy pork chop just barely cooked to "medium," so it remained incredibly juicy and bursting with flavor. I can't remember when I last had pork this good. Also on the plate was a smear of red wine apple butter to serve as a sauce. With my cassoulet came a 2003 Sattler St. Laurent Neisiedlersee, a surprisingly good Austrian (Austrian, not Australian) red.
For dessert, Robert chose the lemon chess pie with a berry compote. A chess pie (which is very Southern) is essentially a lemon custard, but leaning more towards the filling used to make pecan pies. This particular pie was prepared as an individual tartlet and included an egg-shaped scoop of fresh crème chantilly which Robert said most assuredly did not taste like the Cool Whip-eseque whipped cream he'd gotten earlier that day at brunch at The Grill at the Ritz-Carleton (see their review on January 14). With his tart he had a glass of almond grappa (I forgot which label) that he thought was a bit sweeter than he expected as well as surprisingly citrusy. Grappa is an Italian high-octane drink that is sort of a cross between a strong wine and a brandy, typically running about 80-90 proof.
My dessert was a wonderfully light citrus yogurt bavarian, where the mousse had been layered atop lemon genoise, and a tropical fruits and coconut syrup "salsa" was scatterred decoratively around the edges of the plate. It was accompanied by a 2003 Domaine de Baumard Coteau du Layon chenin blanc from the Loire region of France. This nice white dessert wine managed to be sweet without being cloying, and was a particularly pleasant final wine. It, in particular, had been personally selected by their sommalier, who'd chatted with us a couple of times during the evening, especially to tell us about the champagnes in the wine cooler.
Dinner didn't end there, though. Earlier in the meal, we'd been chatting about the cheese display on the counter near our table, and apparently the chef heard it during one of his trips through the dining room. He happened to be out again about the time we were finishing up, so he went over and cut us a big piece of complementary creme de livarot and served it to us with slices of cranberry bread. Now, livarot is one of those classic French stinky cheeses that is absolutely foul if one just sniffs at it, but it has a wonderful full flavor and the taste more than makes up for the smell. We were most appreciative of their generosity.
Still, though, our meal was not yet done! Our charming waiter brought us a tiered rack of handmade chocolates and gumdrop squares! Again, this was complementary, and, as we were one of the last tables in the wine bar, we had definitely noticed than none of the cheeses or candies had been given to any of the other tables.
Needless to say, both Robert and I came away from Vidalia, impressed not only with the delicious and attractively presented food, but the friendly attentiveness of the staff, from the assistants to the waiter to the sommalier to the chef, and the high standard of service. Prices here were only moderately expensive, which makes it an excellent bargain for the high quality. They also feature weeknight wine sampling happy hours when fun vintages are corked and sold at reduced by the glass prices. Robert and I both plan to return to Vidalia, and I highly recommend it for anyone wanting a nice high-end but relaxed dining experience.
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