Bistro Français, Georgetown, D.C.

Midnight. Hallowe'en night. A mysterious instant message rings on my computer summonning me to the dark side.

It's Ian. He wants me to come to Georgetown so we can go to a late night supper at Bistro Français. I acquiesce, not realizing the evil that awaits me.

The sidewalks of Georgetown were a throbbing, teeming mass of humanity. People of all ages, most in costumes, packed the sidewalks and the crowds surged forth at a leisurely pace. When I got to 31st and M, though, even though I was less than a half block from the restaurant, the police made us turn off M Street and go down a block to circle around and come in from the other direction.

The bistro was busy, but they still had open tables, so we were able to be seated immediately. All of the waiters were in Hallowe'en costumes, or remnants thereof. Our waiter Peter (left) started off, he said, as Uncle Sam, but the coat was too hot as much as he was running around.

Our food choices were pretty standard. Ian got his usual omelette aux fines herbs et fromage suisse avec pommes frites. The omelette looked just a touch bigger than usual. Ian always uses ketchup on his fries instead of the yummy homemade mayonnaise they serve here.

I wasn't terribly hungry (it was about one o'clock at this point), so I just ordered a salade du marché, a simple salad of greens and Bibb lettuce in a light walnut oil vinaigrette.

Ian, who usually has ice cream for dessert, decided to be experimental and ordered the crème caramel. It was interestingly presented, placed in the center of a deep soup bowl.

After all the cupcakes earlier in the evening, I didn't want anything sweet to eat, so I chose the cheese plate. I got three pieces of different cheeses with big apple slices all presented atop dark spinach leaves. Forgot to ask what the cheese were; they were all tasty, and included one bleu and two aged, firm cheeses, one of which tasted like a goat or sheep milk cheese and the other a double cow milk cheese (but I could be wrong). They have great crusty sourdough bread here, so I got a little more with my cheeses.

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Taste of India, Washington, D.C.

Most of the time, I find exploring the "authentic" side of the menu at the area's ethnic restaurants to be the most interesting and rewarding part of my culinary adventures. We've had a lot of great discoveries that way. Unfortunately, it doesn't work all the time, and yesterday was one of those times.

Since I was in the Woodley Park area with time to kill, I decided to have lunch about one o'clock (I suppose I was hungry, since I hadn't had breakfast). There was this strip of four different Indian restaurants all together, so I wandered around and read all their menus before deciding upon Taste of India for my repast.

I was immediately greeted and escorted to a nice table. There were only two other tables in the restaurant. They quickly brought water and menus, and I ordered a chai to drink. They had a list of more authentic specials, so I chose the goat curry. I actually like goat—tastes like chicken ;-) —and have had it many times at various restaurants of varying ethnicity. The meat is rather similar to mutton without the strong taste.

It took rather a little while for them to bring the food. That wasn't really a problem, since I always prefer "freshly made" food instead of things that have been sitting on a steam table all day long. What concerned me more, though, was that I never got my chai until the food arrived. The chai was okay, but it was pretty sweet; I prefer just the spiced tea with milk and no added sugar.

They brought me a plate of plain basmati rice and a bowl with the curry. The curry was tasty, but not hot or spicy at all. The goat meat was also very good, full of flavor and fork-tender.

But this is where the problem with the "authenticity" kicked in. Instead of cooking the goat, deboning it, and serving it in totally edible chunks, they cut the goat up into pieces before cooking, leaving the bone inside the chunks. And further, they left the thick goat hide on before they cut up the meat. As a result, over half of my goat curry was inedible bone and skin.

The other little issue I had was that the rice had been sitting out, probably throughout the lunch hour, and there were several crusty bits of dried out rice on the plate. Service was okay. When I got a refill on my chai, though, the assistant brought me a plain masala tea instead of a chai.

So, that was my experience at Taste of India. If ever I'm back in Woodley Park, there are three more Indian restaurants to try in that vicinity.