Salmon and strings

Last Monday evening we went to the Grand Master's homecoming at East Gate Lodge up in Takoma Park. A huge contingent of Grand Lodge officers showed up to join the members and guests. They started with dinner for everyone, featuring tasty slabs of baked salmon, wild and brown rice, roasted new potatoes, grilled asparagus, and a melange of sauteed squashes and onions, plus big tossed salads with diced marinated chicken breast and shredded parmesan cheese with a balsamic vinaigrette. Some kind of nice looking chicken dish was an alternative to the salmon, but Miroslav and I both had salmon, so I wasn't sure what the chicken was. They had cheese and water crackers before the meal. I'm not sure if the meal was provided by a caterer or by in-house cooks, since they were actually using the kitchen there.

The Casablanca String Quartet from "The President's Own" Marine Chamber Orchestra (the people who play for state dinners and such) provided classical background music during the meal, and played as the featured entertainers later in the evening during the formal program. These four Marine sergeants all have interesting training and experience, including degrees from places like the Juilliard School and the New England Conservatory. I've often wondered if military band and orchestra members get any kind of perks or salary supplements, since they all seem to have college degrees and would presumably be eligible for commissions as officers. Does anybody know?

During the formal program, the string quartet played all four movements of Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusick, which was kind of fun. Svet was about to go crazy because his boss was sitting a couple of chairs to our right and was singing along with the music, and Svet wanted to shush him but didn't dare say that to the boss!

We escaped at the end of the public portion of the program before the lodge had their formal business meeting, so we missed whatever dessert they were having after the session.

White Nights and Beehives

Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. Rather than brave the loud, crowded, smoke-filled Irish pubs, a group of us made plans to go to a concert at the Kennedy Center.

We started the evening at Notti Bianche, where Fr. Steven wanted to meet for a pre-concert cocktail before meeting the rest of the group at the K.C. I'd had a late lunch in anticipation of our dining after the concert, but he hadn't, so he ordered one of their appetizer sampler plates.

What is it about this new trend in D.C. to serve a single, enormous shrimp with the shell, tail, head, legs, and feelers still on? This is the third time I've seen it in the past week outside of Asian restaurants. Fr. Steven's "bruscetta trio" had one of those shrimps on a white bean puree atop the bread. There was also a prosciutto with fig compote on bread; the third "bruscetta" was a little lame, being three breadsticks and a little bowl of hummus-type chickpea puree for dipping. He was drinking a Colosi Bianco 2004 from Sicily, which I sampled, and I drank a flute of Bisol Prosecco Crede.

After the concert, the three of us survivors scooted over to Cafe La Ruche in Georgetown for a late night repast. Svet had a huge piece of a fruit tart with strawberries, bananas, and big blackberries on creme patisserie on puff pastry. He's had a similar dessert before and we have this ongoing argument about what was used to glaze the fruit. I suppose I could just taste it myself, but I prefer to continue to demand he develop his culinary sensibilities and try to describe it to me himself. He's too intelligent for me to be satisfied with his continuing assertions that he doesn't know and doesn't care. His mother drank a glass of white wine. I had the tourte aux courgettes, a wonderfully flavorful deep-dish pie of zuccini in a bechamel sauce accompanied by a green salad in a light vinegar and oil dressing. The main course food here is such a great bargain! My tourte and salad was only $2 more expensive than Svet's dessert.

And thus we celebrated Saint Patrick's Day.

Mark and Orlando's, Washington, D.C.

What started off as a trip for a quick "sustenance" meal that quickly began to spiral downhill as restaurants were too crowded and we passed them by landed us in unexpected places tonight for an unexpectedly interesting and great meal. I went with my friend ####, who specifically demanded that he/she not be mentioned by name in this post, and after walking all over the area, where we landed was Dupont Circle at a fairly new restaurant called Mark and Orlando's.

Mark and Orlando's occupies the main floor of an old row house on P Street just around the corner from where I used to live when I was doing my D.C. internship years ago. The dining room is small, seating only thirty-two at tightly packed tables. Decor is rather eclectic with plain white walls, a few art works that looked as though they might be for sale, and a bunch of copper molds and utensils all the way across the top of one wall. A short service bar is located under the stairwell and the kitchen has a large pass-through opening visible to the whole dining room. Windows were on two walls and in one windowless segment was a small wine rack.

The menu was rather short with only limited appetizers and main courses, including very few vegetarian items (no main courses) and no entree salads, both of which are unusual for D.C. For some reason, I was expecting a salad and sandwich kind of restaurant, but I was totally off base with that perception; main course dishes were in the mid- to upper-$20 range and demonstrated unexpected creativity and quality.

#### started with a glass of Italian pinot grigio from the short list of by-the-glass wines, then he/she had a very interesting appetizer: the goat cheese grits. They made cheese grits with goat cheese and herbs, formed it into a thick hamburger patty shape, and fried it; it was served on a bed of large-cut pickled cabbage slaw with a large leaf of frisée as an edible garnish. #### liked it.

For our main courses, #### selected the diver scallops with risotto and asparagus and I had the grilled caesar salad. The scallops were large and plentiful, and #### quickly ate them all; I noticed he/she ate most of the risotto but not all. My caesar salad was quite a surprise. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, whether I was thinking the menu had accidentally left the word "chicken" out of the name or if I'd just have yet another traditional caesar salad, but it certainly was not was I anticipated. They grilled and cooked an entire head of romaine lettuce. The cooked lettuce rested on a layer of dry croutons with dollops of caesar dressing on either side and little mounds of grated parmesan cheese. Surprisingly enough, the salad was actually quite good, and the grilling process imparted a completely new and different flavor to the lettuce.




For dessert, #### had the blueberry financier, a warm spice cake filled with fresh blueberries and garnished with a large dollop of freshly made whipped cream, and a glass of Landauer sparking wine to wash it all down. I opted for the artisanal cheese plate, which featured chevre, aged gouda and a Butternut (?) blue served with dried apricots and water crackers.

During the meal, we could see co-owner Mark working the tables and supervising the dining room and co-owner Orlando in the kitchen.

While we obviously couldn't taste everything on the menu, we were struck by the wonderful looking items we saw going to tables near us. Mark and Orlando's definitely is going to warrant a second trip.

Fogo de Chão Churrascaria, Washington, D.C.

It was time to flesh out details of a business project yesterday, so we chose to have those meaty conversations at the new Fogo de Chão Churrascaria just down the street at 11th and Pennsylvania. Fogo de Chão (say, "FO-go day SHOW" with a dipthong and a bit of a French nasal N on the end) is one of a half dozen high-end franchise restaurants all around major U.S. cities (plus another four stores in São Paulo) in the recent national fad for churrascarias, or Brazilean steakhouses. As with all of these expensive and elegant restaurants, the concept is simple: a lavish salad bar starts the meal, then wandering waiters carry barbecued and roasted meats impaled on swords from table to table where they are carved to order.

The Washington Fogo de Chão is suitably luxe. Dark woods dominate the dining room and small bar area. Open storage of rack after rack of wines lines many of the walls. The salad bar is a focal point of the room and is spectacular art in and of itself. Waiters are dressed in long-sleeved, light blue shirts with red neck scarves, black boots, heavy black leather belts over a woven red sash, and black, full cut, multi-pleated, ballooning gaucho trousers.

The massive salad bar was laden with vegetables, meats, and cheeses much more reminscent of a tapas bar than a typical American salad bar; in fact, I don't really recall there being much lettuce on the salad bar at all. There were lovely artichoke hearts and hearts of palm, asparagus spears, mushrooms, roasted peppers, dried tomatoes, pimientos, all kinds of fine cheeses, sliced sausages and meats, smoked salmon, seafood salads, and many, many other things.

As we ate our salads and vegetables, the gaucho waiters began walking up to the table with their impaled, roasted meats, where we would take a pair of tongs to hold on to slices as they cut them, hot, juicy, and dripping from the roast. We had all kinds of beef, tenderloin, sirloin roasts, rib eye steaks, and bacon wrapped filet mignon; both leg of lamb and lamb chops; pork ribs, pork sausages, roasts, and a delicious pork chop encrusted in parmesan cheese; and bacon-wrapped, juicy chicken breasts. While we were eating the meats, a waiter brought us bowls of garlicky, cheesy mashed potatoes, fried slices of polenta, whole fried bananas, and these popover-like cheese rolls.

Needless to say, one has no excuse for leaving Fogo de Chão hungry. As if we needed it, they did offer desserts for those who wanted them, but we were stuffed and our fried bananas had served our dessert purpose.

So, if you haven't been to Fogo de Chão, go. It's a wonderful place, very elegant, and with ample, delicious food. The menu is prix fixe, and, since there's very little difference between the $25 lunch and $45 dinner spreads, you eat for basically half price at lunch, so do consider taking your main meal at noon. And, remember, this is not a place for vegetarians!

Papa Razzi Trattoria, Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Saturday afternoons on a warm almost-spring day are not the best times to go driving in Georgetown. We made that mistake this past weekend and would have given up trying to find a parking place if we thought we'd have been able to drive through the traffic and get out of Georgetown in less than an hour. At last, though, we found a place in an expensive garage down by the harbor.

All this effort was so that we could eat a late lunch/brunch at the Georgetown edition of Papa Razzi Trattoria, a large Italian restaurant which is a part of a northeast coast chain. It wasn't bad for a franchise place.

As we waited for our food to arrive we were given a basket of warm foccacia bread and a basket of pencil-thin breadsticks. Svet had a Seven-Up and grenadine cocktail and his mother had a glass of pinot grigio. Eugene and I drank water; the staff tried very hard to sell us expensive bottles of mineral water but we said we'd be content with tap water; their tap water has to be some of the worst tasting water I've had in D.C.; I detected plastic—could it have been a ploy to sell acqua minerale?

The food, however, turned out to be much better than the water. Svet's mother had the risotto del giorno, which happened to be a mixed seafood, and a glass of pinot grigio. Svet ordered his traditional standard, the agnolotti al'Arragosta, a lobster and ricotta ravioli in lobster cream sauce. Eugene had smoked salmon with crispy leeks and crostini, plus a big insalata di Charles, a mixed green salad including bitter greens, fennel, and parmesan cheese. I had gnocchi di Sorrento, a bunch of small potato dumplings in a pomodoro sauce and baked with a heavy dose of mozarella cheese. Gnocchi, which sometimes can be heavy or doughy, was actually fairly light and quite nice here.






Svet and his mother both opted for dessert, a tiramisu and a pannacotta. I sampled both. The tiramisu I thought was rather ordinary and lacking in mascarpone cheese flavor, though it was sweet and had plenty of whipped cream as Americans tend to like. The pannacotta was really pretty good and had a very attractive presentation with a tall mold forming the pannacotta and an artistic drizzle of caramel sauce decorating it and the plate.




It was an okay lunch, I thought, and we had a nice table by the front windows. Service was adequate, though Svet hated our waitress for some reason.

Prince Cafe, Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

It was a glorious evening last Friday as Miroslav, Sviatoslav, and I (Markoslav) headed in to Georgetown for an evening at Prince Cafe, a Lebanese restaurant and shisha lounge or hookah bar on lower Wisconsin Avenue. Prince Cafe is a local chain of about a half dozen establishments. It was pretty crowded, but we managed to get a table outside on the sidewalk.

The primary purpose of hookah bars is to sit around smoking on a shisha or Middle Eastern water pipe. It was an unusual experience. The usually health conscious Sviatoslav told me the stuff we were smoking was dried fruit only (peach, in our case), but after looking at the cafe's web site, I'm a bit confused, since they refer to fruit-flavored tobaccos. Judging from the lung congestion and hoarseness I got (I'm allergic to tobacco), I tend to think it was a fruit-flavored light tobacco instead of purely fruit powder. Each smoker gets a little plastic tip to put over the mouthpiece so no one exchanges any cooties. I was surprised at how long the one fill of tobacco lasted, as we were there for at least two hours.

Even though we'd all had dinner previously, we ended up wanting to nosh a bit and ordered some appetizers and stuff. I thought the hommos (chickpea puree) was unusually tasty; it came with a big piece of hot flatbread from the tandoor. We also got an order of dolmas, the grape leaves stuffed with rice, mint, parsley, garlic, and tomato; there were five short, cigar-shaped pieces. Dessert was several orders of baklava, which I thought was good but it had an unusual, odd, buttery flavor to it (I know butter is used in the preparation, but the flavor is usually not so pronounced). Throughout the evening, we all had hot mint tea—hot water with a tea bag in a paper cup, so nothing special—and Miro had some Turkish coffee. I noticed in perusing the dinner menu that there were quite a number of Indian entrees listed, in addition to Lebanese choices.

Meiwah Restaurant, Washington, D.C.

For about a year, I've been wanting to go to Meiwah Restaurant on the busy corner of New Hampshire and M by 21st Street, but my friend Leo, a Hong Kong native, has always deferred, thinking we should go someplace else. I could never figure out why he didn't want to go there, since it always seemed to be a thriving hot spot every time we walked past it. Recently, though, he has responded to my questioning a little more and I determined that his reservations were two-fold: he suspected that it was yet another "touristy" Chinese place designed for the American palate and, more importantly, he was bothered by the restaurant's names.

Names? Well, actually, it's a little more complicated and esoteric than that. Apparently, there is a discrepancy between the English and Chinese names the restaurant displays in neon in its windows. The English version says "mei-wah," whilst the Chinese characters say "wahl-kurn." Not knowing any Chinese, I asked if that was Mandarin or Cantonese, and he said it didn't matter, since the characters were the same. Okay, fine, I'll leave it to the Chinese to read and understand their 3,000-plus character alphabet. I also asked about whether the two names meant different things, and apparently both words are proper names, with mei-wah being more typically feminine and wahl-kurn being stronger and more masculine.

Well, masculine or feminine, I'm glad we finally ate there last night, since I enjoyed the food and restaurant, and will likely return another day.

Meiweh is situated right on the corner of the street level of an office building at a busy six-way intersection. The two street sides of the establishment are fully revealed to the public with floor to ceiling window walls that display the dining room and bar. Inside, the space is comfortable and contemporary with several dividers helping to create the illusion of greater privacy. Some of the decor includes nicer looking Chinese art, plus there are several swaths of potentially appetite-ruining photographs of politicians—the owner seems to like to have his picture taken with every senator or representative who comes to eat there.

The menu is interesting and varied and accommodates a number of common special diets, including an all-tofu supplement page for vegetarians and an Atkins-friendly section. They also offer brown rice as an option and the menu indicates the kitchen is willing to put sauces on the side.

For some unknown reason, Leo started with a glass of red Rosemount Shiraz from Australia (he doesn't adhere to the traditions of white wines with seafood); I chose the iced jasmine tea, which was quite strong and bitter from a long steep. The food began to arrive in traditional Chinese style, as it was prepared and finished in the kitchen, not in formal courses as Americans typically do. First to arrive was my seaweed salad. With a $3.95 price, I was expecting a tiny bowl, but the serving was easily twice the size of what I'm usually served in D.C. for nearly twice the price. The seaweed was fresh, crisp, and good, too, and also included a few julienned strips of cucumber. Next, Leo got his squid with spiced salt. The squid was in small pieces, lightly battered, and deep fried, with a little bit of garlic and chopped scallion stir-tossed in with the squid for flavor and color. I sampled a tiny bit of the scallion mix and got the surprise of the evening: I caught a piece of hot pepper that rendered me momentarily speechless!

For main courses, Leo got the Singapore noodles, a curried vermicelli with vegetables and lots of shrimp, scallops, and seafood pieces. He actually liked it! That's always a surprise, so since he liked their Singapore noodles, that gives the entire restaurant his official imprimateur. Still struggling with my Lenten vegetarianism, I had the General Tso's tofu, an enormous serving of fried tofu chunks with large scallion pieces and lots of szechuan peppers in a thick, sweet sauce; a mound of shredded iceberg lettuce garnished with a maraschino cherry decorated the side of the plate.

So, the long-avoided Meiwah was a success.

On the way home, we stopped at CVS, where Leo picked up a couple of pints of Haagen-Daz ice cream for dessert. It's so hard to diet around him!

The Dubliner, Washington, D.C.

As you might well imagine, those of us with law school backgrounds and litigation experience are good at exploiting loopholes in rules. I've been worried about how I was going to get my traditional corned beef and cabbage in celebration of Saint Patrick's Day on Friday this year, given that Friday is a Friday in Lent, hence a "meatless" day (not to mention my Lenten vegetarianism); then I remembered that Sundays in Lent are feast days, not fast days. That means that if someone has "given up" a food item for Lent, he or she may eat that food on Sundays—in fact, some people insist that you must eat the food so that one is not fasting on a Sunday. Well, that solved one problem. But, was it too early to be celebrating that great American celebration of the Irish? Of course not! To bolster my case, I note the fact that the annual D.C. St. Patrick's Day parade was at noon Sunday, marching about a mile down Constitution Avenue. Therefore, your Honors, I submit to you that not only can I eat corned beef on a Sunday in Lent from the Church's perspective, it would be unconscionable for me to fail to celebrate the saint on a day when thousands of people marched in a parade in his honor!

Thus, Eugene and I went to dinner last night at The Dubliner.

The Dubliner is an Irish pub and restaurant in the Phoenix Park Hotel right by Union Station here in D.C. The noisy bar was packed with post-parade revelers listening to Irish folk singers and drinking Irish beers, but we were able to get a table on the patio of the restaurant after only a short wait.



As one might imagine, they have a beer list with quite a few Irish beers both in bottles and on tap. Eugene, being the beer expert among us (he went to college at Seton Hall, a Catholic school), chose a couple of pints of Smithwick's, a dark, smooth beer, for us during our meal. I thought it tasted like beer (can you tell I'm not a beer person?). Eugene liked it, but said he prefers the stronger flavor of a Guinness (which is a beer I don't like).

We wanted to sample a number of different dishes, so we opted to split things rather than order individually. This turned out to be a good decision, since The Dubliner has large serving sizes.



We started with the Irish oak smoked salmon. This was a large serving of actual Irish salmon smoked with Irish oak wood, then cut in very large, thin slices, which I found to be very pleasant and to have an excellent texture, flavor, and freshness. It was served with big pieces of Irish brown bread and traditional accompaniments such as capers, minced red onion, cream cheese, and then slight departures from tradition with slices of tomato and hard boiled egg instead of the chopped varieties of those.



Our main course was—what else?—Irish corned beef and cabbage. This large entree included boiled potatoes and carrots and sauteed cabbage, all cooked so they were just barely past the al dente stage rather than having been stewed soggy from hours of boiling, and quite a healthy serving of thin slices of corned beef. Now, usually when I prepare corned beef, I find it difficult to cut it into thin slices and I end up with larger, very tender chunks and pieces. Here, though, the beef is not boiled to the point of falling apart; they get very distinct slices that were still a bit chewy and required a knife to cut instead of being fork-tender. This drier version was good though unexpected. The corned beef was served with a parsley cream sauce and a little cup of grated horseradish.



While The Dubliner has a menu full of Irish entrees, dessert selections are much more Americanized: New York style cheesecake and Key Lime pie were the headliners. We asked our waiter for more Irish options, and he suggested the Bailey's Irish Cream cheesecake or the bread pudding with Irish whiskey sauce; we went with the bread pudding. And, it was a good choice. The pudding was dense and flavorful and there was a good quantity of creme anglaise over the top. I didn't really taste any Irish whiskey in the sauce, but that was okay. Bushmill's was running a big Irish whiskey promotion at The Dubliner, so we almost got Irish coffees after dinner, but we decided not to since the rain had considerably cooled off the outdoor temperatures and we were getting a bit chilly.

This is a picture of our waiter Michael, who says he's a second generation American Irishman. All of the wait staff was attired in black trousers, white shirts, and green and yellow striped ties.

I liked The Dubliner a lot, especially being outside on the patio. Our table was right along the building under the awning, so we just moved both chairs up against the building and the two little brief rainshowers didn't bother us a bit. I don't know, however, if I would like it as much inside, since, in Irish tradition, it was rather dark and crowded inside, and the amplification system for the folk singers inside was turned up pretty loud.

If you're looking for Irish food for St. Patrick's Day, I'd encourage you to go to The Dubliner before or after Friday, since this place will be so crowded Friday night patrons will be packed in tighter than sardines in a can.

Ideas for St. Patrick?

The Feast of Saint Patrick is just a week away!

I'm thinking about planning a little St. Patrick's Day party for after the National Symphony concert that night, kind of a late night supper with a little Irish whiskey and stuff, all with authentic Irish food, of course.

And then, as I was looking at my calendar, it occured to me that St. Patrick's Day falls on a Friday this year. A Friday in Lent. Eh. That's a problem. What are we supposed to eat? Corned fish and cabbage?

I need some menu idea help, guys! Let's do some brainstorming and come up with a St. Patrick's Day dinner menu that meets the Church's requirements for meatless Fridays in Lent. That means no corned beef, no mutton stew, no boxty with bacon.

And, for those of you in D.C., are there any decent places to get Irish food? We've been to Sin é in Arlington at Pentagon Row, but they don't exactly have an authentic Irish menu there. We're looking for restaurants, not bars that will be packed with thousands of drunken college boys. Last year, we couldn't even get in the doors of any place with a remotely Irish sounding name. Restaurants aren't my preference, but it might have to be my fall-back position.

So, menu suggestions?

Sala Thai, Washington, D.C.

The Sala Thai at Dupont Circle was the site tonight for our "eating for charity" expedition as my friend Steven and I participated in the "Dining Out for Life" fundraiser. This is an annual fundraiser for D.C.'s Food and Friends, where participating restaurants contribute 25% or more of their evening's revenues to the charity that feeds sick and homebound patients.

Sala Thai is a popular local chain that always features good food and standard service, placing it solidly in the pack of similar Thai restaurants at the same price point. The Dupont Circle location is pleasantly decorated in a modern American design with modernistic art works on the wall which echo aspects of traditional Thai culture. The menu features all of the standard Thai dishes we have come to expect in the D.C. area, and they clearly set forth their substantial vegetarian selections on the first page-plus of the menu.



Steven started off with a watercress soup that looked quite delicious. Lots of watercress plus sliced scallions and cooked ground pork floated in a clear pork broth.

For our salad courses, he had the yum nua or beef salad, featuring lots of pieces of grilled beef, and I had the green papaya salad with a mound of shredded papaya and other vegetables with long green beans and peanuts. Both salads were lightly spices and tasted of lime juice, garlic, and Thai chili pepper.




I had the most interesting kee mao j for my main course. This is a noodle dish made with inch-and-a-half wide rice noodles laid in careful strips on the bottom of the plate and then covered with a mixture of stir-fried cruciferous and other vegetables and pieces of deep-fried tofu. It was very tasty, though the design necessitated eating the vegetables and tofu first and then the rice noodles last, and I would have preferred a slightly less sweet sauce. Steven had a dish called "wild pork," with pieces of pork stewed with tomato wedges, strips of red bell pepper, and basil leaves, served with white steamed rice. I sampled a tomato wedge and it was nicely flavored and scented with basil.




There were lots of other interesting things on the menu, including a long dessert list, and Sala Thai has a licensed full bar. Overall the restaurant is comfortable, the service adequte, and the food consistent with other major local Thai places. Give it a try.

University Club, Washington, D.C.

Oh, the shame! Last night we were asked to leave Washington's exclusive, private University Club.

Why? Because Svet was wearing blue jeans.

I suspect also that since we'd been there nearly two hours without complaint that he came to management's attention because he kept wandering around our private dining room (visible to the main club rooms through windows) with his surgically-attached PDA/phone to his ear, and the Club has a strict no-cell-phone rule (there are signs everywhere). So, no matter how wonderful I looked or how well-dressed our investors with whom we'd been meeting, the Club just could not abide a cell phone user in blue jeans. I'm so embarrassed now I shan't be able to show my face at the Club for the rest of the month.

I've not written a "review" of the food at the University Club before; I don't know that yesterday's visit will be much help. None of us were eating and we just drank coffee (the espresso machine wasn't cranked up yet) and bottled Italian mineral water. The other guys smoked cigars. Svet, however, ordered a cheeseburger and French fries, all washed down with a big glass of tomato juice. I was too busy talking to think to sample his food or even discuss it with him. When it arrived, I recall seeing a good sized bun with an unusually thick hamburger patty that was around a full inch thick; the rest of the plate was mounded with thick, golden French fries. The next thing I knew, the waiter was taking away the empty plate. We'll have to assume that the burger was good, since Svet is rather a particular eater and wouldn't have finished it were it not suitably adequate. I don't mean to damn the food with faint praise, it's just that I wasn't eating or paying attention to the food yesterday (not to mention I'm still being vegetarian for Lent).

Otherwise, our abruptly truncated meeting went well, and I think we were just about done anyway when we were ejected.

I wonder if Svet is going to wear blue jeans today?

Three little pigs

Three Little Pigs went out to dinner one night. The waiter came and took their drink order. "I would like a Sprite," said the first little piggy.

"I would like a Coke," said the second little piggy.

"I want beer, lots and lots of beer," said the third little piggy.

The drinks were brought out and the waiter took their orders for dinner. "I want a nice big steak," said the first piggy.

"I would like the salad plate," said the second piggy.

"I want beer, lots and lots of beer," said the third little piggy.

The meals were brought out and a while later the waiter approached the table and asked if the piggies would like any dessert. "I want a banana split," said the first piggy.

"I want a root beer float," said the second piggy.

"I want beer, lots and lots of beer," exclaimed the third little piggy.

"Pardon me for asking," said the waiter to the third little piggy," but why have you only ordered beer all evening?"

The third piggy said, "Well, somebody has to go 'Wee, wee, wee, all the way home!' "

The West Wing set, Washington, D.C.

Yesterday I was privileged to be an extra in the filming for the final series episode of The West Wing, which was in town for the weekend doing on-location shooting. I was on the set for about ten hours, and in between scenes we had lots of time for chatting in the canteen with other cast members and eating both lunch and dinner from the excellent on-location caterers. I wish I knew the name of the caterers—if I find out, I'll edit this post to include the name.

While both meals were completely different, they had in common a huge selection of salads, two or three simple vegetables, three or four pasta dishes, and entrees of beef, chicken, fish, and something vegetarian. Several cakes and tarts, plus sliced fresh fruit selections, were on the dessert table. Lunch had the larger crowd and more elaborate menu, including a carving station with a roast baron of beef and two different types of shrimp salads.

In addition to the lunch and dinner buffets, in another area they maintained all day long multiple tables of hot and cold beverages, all kinds of snack foods, chips, nuts, dried fruits, bagels and cream cheese, muffins, and even the fixings for simple, self-made sandwiches. Out on the set, assistants wandered around bearing bottled water, espresso, and even trays of grapes, berries, cheese cubes, and tiny pastries.

The cast and crew at these things certainly never go hungry!

Thai Place, Washington, D.C.

Last night Leo had had such a busy day at the office he was too tired to go to the gym and I was hungry after a full day of sitting at a desk with no lunch break, so we decided to head out to an early dinner at Thai Place, our West End/Foggy Bottom neighborhood place. It was a good choice, since I'm being vegetarian for Lent and Leo is doing a no-carbohydrate Atkins diet right now.

A lot of people say that Thai Phoon and Thai Tannic are the best Thai restaurants in town, but we've always been happy with Thai Place. Not only do they have food which seems to be just as good as the more popular places, they have the extra advantage of being very inexpensive. So, off we went, and, even though it was a Friday night, we were there earlier enough we didn't have a problem getting a table. Thai Place has been getting very popular these days, especially since they've added an upstairs dining room where I understand they have a sushi bar—I've yet to be up there.

After our personable waitress brought Leo his Diet Coke and me my hot jasmine tea (I gave up alcohol, too!), she discussed the menu and took our orders. Leo started with a shrimp tom yum soup, which had lots of tail-on shrimp and small mushrooms in a clear lemongrass soup broth with herbs and a hint of pepper spice. For his main course, he took advantage of the new sushi bar and ordered an assortment of sashimi. I chose from the vegetarian menu and selected the panang tofu with a bowl of steamed white rice. My panang tofu was a huge serving of fried cubes of firm tofu and steamed brocoli florets in a panang curry sweetened with coconut milk; a big sprig of basil garnished the top of the food. I thought it quite tasty, though it was almost more than I could eat by myself. The only problem with coconut milk-sweetened foods is that I'm not a great fan of sweet entrees, so it would have been nice to have had a second entree to be able to split with someone else; perhaps another trip.

The nice thing about last night's dinner was the price—where else in D.C. could you get a nice, sit-down, Friday night dinner for just $10 (well, $11....I thought the waitress was sweet, so I over tipped).

Maslenitsa—Pancake Week

Our Russian friend Svet cooked dinner for us last night, starting out with big glasses of carrot-green apple juice he juiced himself, then he made these big, thin pancake-thingies and got out the good Russian caviar—a red caviar, in this case—so we could have blini. Of course, the first thing he made me do was learn to pronounce the word correctly. I've always called them BLEE-nees, but the correct pronunciation isn't plural and puts the accent on the last syllable: blee-NEE. He started off with several eggs (and several pieces of accidental egg shell!) in a blender, eventually adding milk, oil, flour, and a pinch of salt, not really following a recipe or doing any exact measurements at all. He poured the thin batter into a large, oiled skillet and cooked the pancakes there, turning them several times. When it was time to eat, he spread a pancake with butter and added a couple of generous spoonfuls of caviar, spreading it around the middle of the pancake. Then he rolled the pancake up into a tube and proceded to eat it. For the second blini, instead of caviar, he used fruit preserves (he seems to be quite partial to black currant). Since this is Maslenitsa, the pancake week which is the Russian Orthodox Church's pre-Lenten equivalent to Carnival or Mardi Gras, it was an appropriate and traditional meal.

The Orthodox don't start Lent until Sunday, unlike those of us from liturgical denominations of the Western church. So, while I've already started my Lenten discipline, Svet wasn't the least bit sympathetic, and on the second day of Lent made me break my food rules already! I'm being vegetarian and giving up meat, fish, alcohol, and desserts for Lent, but he insisted that I had to eat some Swiss milk chocolate infused with orange essence, Lent or not. And, the jury's still out on the issue of whether or not eating caviar violated my prohibition on meat; I submit that it did not, however, on the grounds that I'm being an ovolactovegetarian and can eat chicken eggs, which means that caviar (fish eggs) is just another "ovo" food. Fortunately I'm not Orthodox like Svet; according to strict Orthodox tradition, meat, fish, dairy, and eggs are all forbidden during their Great Lent!

Benjamin French Lodge, Georgetown, D.C.

Last night, Svet Metroed over after work and we walked into Georgetown to go shopping on Wisconsin Avenue. Since we were in the neighborhood (as in right across the street), we decided to pop in for dinner and a meeting at Benjamin French Lodge. Very friendly and impressive group of guys. They had a great dinner, too, with a tasty all-you-can-eat buffet featuring a chopped salad with romaine, vegetables, and chickpeas, a caprese salad (slices of tomato, mozzarella, and fresh basil leaves), pork chops, chicken breasts, poached salmon, a vegetarian penne casserole, and an interesting "pilaf" made with orzo pasta. For dessert they had an assortment of individual cakes, bars, and cookies. Beverage choices included canned soft drinks and some bottles of red bordeaux superiore. And the best part was that it was free!

Lent

Today is the first day of Lent, so my restaurant visits will slow down considerably until Easter. I'll still be going out now and then for the usual business meals, so there won't be a total drought, but it will be much simpler fare, and I'm toying with the idea of being vegetarian, though the jury's still out on that one.

Making cheese

Tonight I went over to my Russian friend Svet's house, as it was time to tend to the "tvorog" Russian cheese we started making Thursday night. It's actually been amazingly simple. We started by putting two gallons of whole milk and one-half gallon of buttermilk into a big kettle, and then left it out on the kitchen cabinet, covered, for at least twenty-four hours. In this case, we poured it up on Thursday night about 11 p.m. and then didn't tend to it again until noonish today, so that was about thirty-six hours.

Then, the milk, which looked pretty much like the consistency of commercial eggnog, got put in a preheated 350-degree oven for one hour. Then, the oven is turned off and then kettle was left inside to cool down. It was about tenish tonight when we got back from our shopping expedition, so I guess the baked milk cooled for about eight hours. Then, Svet took the kettle out of the oven and removed the cheese with a slotted spoon to a colander, where the cheese drained.

After gravity draining for maybe an hour, Svet served some tvorog in a bowl with a couple of big spoonfuls of black currant preserves, then stirred the tvorog and preserves together. It is actually quite good. The taste and texture are very reminiscent of ricotta cheese with that special buttermilk tang.

Here are some pictures of the cheesemaking process tonight:

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Exchange, Ltd.

We went to a place called Exchange, Ltd., just around the corner from the Old Executive Office Building for dinner. It's a "saloon and lounge" with an attached dining room. Eugene had a bowl of the clam chowder du jour, which looked pretty normal. Svet had a strip steak topped with grilled onions and served with a side of cheese fries, which he said was good. I had a hamburger with blue cheese and grilled onions and a side of French fries. It was very tasty, though I thought the thick burger was cooked more than the medium I had requested. The food is okay here, and it's a simple place, but this establishment is mainly a downtown bar.

Harry's Tap Room, Arlington VA

Forgot to mention our brunch Sunday morning at Harry's Tap Room in Arlington. Svet and I were meeting friends of his, and while we waited for everyone to arrive, we sat in the bar cocktailing. I had a bloody Mary; it came in a tall pilsner glass; it was garnished with enough vegetables to make a complete salad, including a foot-long stalk of leafy celery, a jumbo olive, a cocktail onion, and a cherry pepper, plus a wedge of lime. Once everyone had arrived, we were escorted to the upstairs dining room with a lovely view of Clarendon Boulevard and all the shoppers.

I ordered a Cobb salad, which was made of an unusual assortment of greens including bitter greens like curly endive, and had large fingers of panko-breaded chicken strips on top, served in an unusual bowl with the rim on the sharp diagonal. The greens were pre-tossed in a tasty, creamy bleu cheese dressing, allowing the toppings to remain unhidden by dressing for the presentation. Svet had an individually wrapped baked brie en croute accompanied by a mound of red grapes. Svet's two friends both had different variations on eggs Benedict, one an "original" (though they used shaved ham instead of the "original" Canadian bacon) and the other using a lot of smoked salmon as the meat, both accompanied by little square bowls of creamy grits. The serving plates for the Benedicts were very interesting: they looked rather like a large bow tie. We also got a big basket of assorted biscuits and muffins including some delicious blueberry muffins and some scones or biscuits I thought looked like they were full of raisins but turned out to be chocolate chips. I liked this place, and I'm looking forward to returning.