Sequoia, Georgetown, D.C.

Robert rang me this evening and announced he was at the Foggy Bottom Metro stop and wanted to go to dinner while he was in the neighborhood, so, since I was just sitting here editing foliage pictures, I thought it might be kinda fun, and away we went. The Georgetown bus was sitting on 23rd Street as we were headed towards the Metro station and that gave us the inspiration to hop on and head to Georgetown. We landed at the Washington Harbor, which is the Georgetown waterfront along the Potomac River.

There are several restaurants there which overlook the harbor, and we picked Sequoia, because it had a more varied menu. I've wanted to go there for some time, anyway, since one of my friends at the DOI Solicitor's Office has been promising to take me there for months.

Sequoia is an elegant restaurant. Upon entering from the plaza, diners must go up a staircase past murals of rowers on the river to get to the main dining room. That room was occupied, though, tonight with a black tie private party for a convention of plastic surgeons; we went to the other dining room, which was still a very large room overlooking Christmas light-wrapped trees and the huge floor to ceiling window walls that allowed all tables a view of the waterfront. While a couple of large round tables occupied the corners, most all of the other tables were white cloth-covered two tops with very comfortable modern highback chairs upholstered in a soft sueded fabric. I was a little confused by the staff's attire: our waitress was in formal white shirt and apron with a black bow tie and black trousers, but the assistants and expediters were wearing casual Henley-style grey shirts with the restaurant's logo silk screened on the front. Regardless of their choice of attire, however, they seemed efficient and there were a number of people who tended to our table during the course of the evening.

After we were seated and given our menus and water, the waitress brought us a basket of bread and rolls wrapped in a white napkin. After about a minute, we smelled smoke. Suddenly, the bread basket burst into flames! The waitress had set the basket down with the napkin over the lit votive candle on our table. Fortunately, though, we were able to blow out the flaming napkins, then then staff spirited the smoking basket back to the kitchen and brought us a new basket of bread and a new candle, and strategically arranged them with a foot of space between them.

Our food was quite lovely. I started with a larger-than-expected bowl of butternut squash bisque; it had a strong cinnamon presence and was decorated with a heavy sprinkling of paprika and then a decorative drizzle of creme frâiche. For a main course, I had a Caesar salad with grilled shrimp—four jumbo shrimp with visible grill marks—decorated with two long leaves of romaine that made perfect rabbit ears! Robert had a grilled swordfish steak resting on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes and surrounded by a scattering of haricots verts, and a glass of the house chardonnay. There was a yellow sauce on the swordfish, but I forgot to ask if it was butter or lemon. For dessert, he had a tart with a poached pear encased in frangipane that looked and smelled delicious; I talked him out of getting the ubiquitous creme brulee, so I hope he liked the tart!