Those of us who are sufficiently geriatric so as to be in the 35 to 55 year old range will no doubt remember the bright pink bubbles and potent sweet scent (which can't be called anything but "bubble gum") of Bazooka Gum. It came in these little one inch long rectangles that were individually wrapped, and inside around the hunk of gum were these inane but wholesome little comics. When I was a wee small boy, my dad used to drive me all the way across town to the barber shop in this place called Oak Park Village, and after my haircut, we'd hit the penny candy cabinet (inflation had hit--things were up to two to five cents), and one of the things I'd get sometimes would be a piece of Bazooka bubble gum.
Well, what brought up this childhood reminiscence this evening? Well, I just got back from shopping in Tenleytown, where I stopped in at the Starbucks (under coersion, of course) and tried their vogue drink du jour, the green tea frappuccino. Twas an interesting drink. It reminds me very much of a cross between Bazooka bubble gum and melted green tea ice cream.
It actually wasn't bad. Of course, I think I got my refined sugar allotment for the week in that one drink. Has Starbucks ever considered using Splenda or doing a diet version of their drinks? Anyway, on those occasions when I'm forced to go to Starbucks, I at least have two possible drinks to order, the Chantico (chocolate) and the green tea frappuccino.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Aroma Indian Restaurant, Washington, D.C.
Last night, Leo called me from his gym, wanted to go out for Indian food after his workout, and asked me to meet him at Aroma Indian Restaurant near 20th and Pennsylvania. This is a restaurant I've wanted to try, since I've seen it recommended in several guidebooks and favorably reviewed in places like the Washingtonian magazine, so I gladly agreed. Aroma is a typically-sized downtown Washington place in a rowhouse arrangment that is narrow and deep and has a large window overlooking the sidewalk. The walls were pleasantly lacking in Indian kitsch. Banquettes line the eastern wall of the dining room and white cloth-covered tables set on the diagonal are arranged in the rest of the space. Several waiters in black trousers, vests, and ties and white shirts scurried busily around the mixed ethnicity clientele.
For our first course, Leo started with two meat samosas stuffed with a slightly sweetly-spiced minced lamb that came on a big bed of iceberg lettuce with tomato and cucumber slices. I had a very nice soup badami, which was a surprisingly simple concoction of peeled and finely ground almonds in a milk and cream soup with a tiny little garnish of fresh coriander leaves in the center. We'd also been brought a basket of peppered papad wafers and a deep greenish herb sauce I didn't really recognize (it wasn't the usual mint sauce most places bring with the lentil crackers). I also had a cup of hot masala tea, which was a lovely light tea that had been lightly and delicately spiced, and came with a pitcher of milk on the side.
For our entrees, we ordered the shrimp tandoori, chicken curry, gobhi paratha (cauliflower-stuffed bread), and paneer kulcha (cheese-stuffed bread). We also had to order our rice a la carte--in this case, the basmati pulao. When the food arrived, we also received an unordered (but not complimentary--they charged us for it!) dish of channa masala (chickpeas and potatoes in a tomato and onion sauce). There was a good quantity of large shrimp, but with the tails still on (one of my constant complaints with restaurant shrimp is leaving the inedible tails on for "garnish"). Leo reported that he thought they were overcooked. The chicken curry was tasty, but I was disappointed that it was very, very mild, especially since the menu advertised "medium" spice and we had asked the waiter to make it very spicy. The channa masala had some kick to it, but it, too, was not terribly hot. The basmati pulao was elaborately spiced, with a tell-tale saffron yellow coloring and multiple whole spices cooked in. Now, basmati rice traditionally is aged, which makes the grains of rice cook up separately rather than being sticky like American or sushi rices, but I thought this basmati pulao to be rather dry. The breads were good, but they were all arranged in one basket, cut into quarters, and I'm not sure what we got—I never found a distinct taste either of cheese or of cauliflower. Since the rounds of bread were smaller than many I've seen at other local places, I wasn't sure if we got one order or two.
While none of our food was bad, I do not find Aroma to be a good buy. Their serving dishes were typically and average "individual"-sized, yet their prices were two or three dollars higher per entree than comparable competitors. And, then, they required a la carte purchase of rice! I was also distressed that our special spice request for the chicken curry was disregarded and that we were charged for an unordered chickpea dish. While I wouldn't object to eating here again, this is definitely not a "destination" establishment for me.
Aroma Indian Restaurant, 1919 Eye Street, near Farragut West Metro.
For our first course, Leo started with two meat samosas stuffed with a slightly sweetly-spiced minced lamb that came on a big bed of iceberg lettuce with tomato and cucumber slices. I had a very nice soup badami, which was a surprisingly simple concoction of peeled and finely ground almonds in a milk and cream soup with a tiny little garnish of fresh coriander leaves in the center. We'd also been brought a basket of peppered papad wafers and a deep greenish herb sauce I didn't really recognize (it wasn't the usual mint sauce most places bring with the lentil crackers). I also had a cup of hot masala tea, which was a lovely light tea that had been lightly and delicately spiced, and came with a pitcher of milk on the side.
For our entrees, we ordered the shrimp tandoori, chicken curry, gobhi paratha (cauliflower-stuffed bread), and paneer kulcha (cheese-stuffed bread). We also had to order our rice a la carte--in this case, the basmati pulao. When the food arrived, we also received an unordered (but not complimentary--they charged us for it!) dish of channa masala (chickpeas and potatoes in a tomato and onion sauce). There was a good quantity of large shrimp, but with the tails still on (one of my constant complaints with restaurant shrimp is leaving the inedible tails on for "garnish"). Leo reported that he thought they were overcooked. The chicken curry was tasty, but I was disappointed that it was very, very mild, especially since the menu advertised "medium" spice and we had asked the waiter to make it very spicy. The channa masala had some kick to it, but it, too, was not terribly hot. The basmati pulao was elaborately spiced, with a tell-tale saffron yellow coloring and multiple whole spices cooked in. Now, basmati rice traditionally is aged, which makes the grains of rice cook up separately rather than being sticky like American or sushi rices, but I thought this basmati pulao to be rather dry. The breads were good, but they were all arranged in one basket, cut into quarters, and I'm not sure what we got—I never found a distinct taste either of cheese or of cauliflower. Since the rounds of bread were smaller than many I've seen at other local places, I wasn't sure if we got one order or two.
While none of our food was bad, I do not find Aroma to be a good buy. Their serving dishes were typically and average "individual"-sized, yet their prices were two or three dollars higher per entree than comparable competitors. And, then, they required a la carte purchase of rice! I was also distressed that our special spice request for the chicken curry was disregarded and that we were charged for an unordered chickpea dish. While I wouldn't object to eating here again, this is definitely not a "destination" establishment for me.
Aroma Indian Restaurant, 1919 Eye Street, near Farragut West Metro.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
The Homogenization of America
Once upon a time, cities and towns had character. Not only that, but they had distinct character, and as one travelled across the country, one could experience wonderful, unique, and interesting differences in culture, cuisine, and clothing from city to city. One could taste the difference between North Carolina barbeque and South Carolina barbeque, between Memphis barbeque and Kansas City barbeque. One could recognize certain cuts and certain fabrics in a suit or the design of a pair of shoes and, regardless of where one was in the world, one knew immediately from whence the wearer came (or at least shopped).
Alas, those days are quickly slipping away, and America is becoming one bland, similar, boring melting pot, with everyone shopping at the same stores and eating at the same restaurants.
This homogenization of American culture took another unfortunate step forward this past week when Federated Department Stores, Inc., the survivor of the merger this spring between Federated and the May Companies, announced that they were converting all the regional department store chains in the former May stable to Federated's major store name, Macy's. Now, I have nothing against Macy's. In fact, I often enjoy shopping at various Macy's stores around the country. But, with every merger, with every change, with every renaming, we lose a slice of America.
Our choices are dwindling. It's getting so that when we travel, we aren't going to have a clue where we are, based on shopping and dining; the malls and the strips look the same. Already, we can go to the same big box stores in every major American city, large or small. Best Buy. Staples. Barnes and Noble. Circuit City. PetsMart. Home Depot. One of the 3,600 some Wal-Mart stores in the U.S. alone. And even when we pay for our purchases, whether we write a check or use a credit card, our banks are consolidating, too. The huge Bank of America and MBNA banking corporations announced earlier this year that they were merging, too. Then when we quench our thirsts, we have our choice of the same mediocre coffee at Starbucks on every street corner (they are planning to open another 1,800 coffee shops in 2006) or the same arteriosclerosing Happy Meals at one of the 31,561 McDonald's stores in the country. And what city doesn't have an Olive Garden or a Chili's or a Red Lobster or a Bennigan's? Did you travel to another town to shop? Will you be staying at a hotel in the HIlton group or the Marriott group?
Not everyone is unhappy about our homogenization. Every mall wants a Gap and an Abercrombie and Fitch. Krispy Kreme has to have traffic control for a week when they open a new store in a new city. Anywhere in the country, I can guess a guy's age based on whether he's dressed in Nautica, Hilfiger, or Hollister. We watch television and movies to see what people are wearing, and then we want it for ourselves. We watch music videos to see what the hip-hoppers are wearing so we know that we want North Face winter gear so badly our kids will murder one another for it. T.G.I.Friday's and Denny's always seem to be packed with diners, no matter how bad the food or rude the service. So, obviously, there's something about national franchises that the American public seems to accept, if not crave. We all want to dress alike and shop at the same stores and eat at the same restaurants, whether we are in Atlanta or Seattle, Bloomington, Indiana, or El Paso, Texas.
It makes me sad, though, because when I go home to Tulsa, I don't want Florida stone crabs claws or Louisiana crawfish etouffee or Maryland blue crab cakes, cause they just aren't the same in a town that cooks beef 90% of the time. In D.C., the Amerindian food all has that institutionalized blandness, I don't even want to talk about what passes for Mexican food, and the chicken fried steaks would even shame my high school cafeteria. Yet, we continue our march towards mediocrity, towards our least common denominator; we accept and welcome our increasing homogenization.
Homogenization is for milk, not for stores and restaurants. I just pray that I am not the lone voice in the American consumer wilderness who values what we are losing.
Alas, those days are quickly slipping away, and America is becoming one bland, similar, boring melting pot, with everyone shopping at the same stores and eating at the same restaurants.
This homogenization of American culture took another unfortunate step forward this past week when Federated Department Stores, Inc., the survivor of the merger this spring between Federated and the May Companies, announced that they were converting all the regional department store chains in the former May stable to Federated's major store name, Macy's. Now, I have nothing against Macy's. In fact, I often enjoy shopping at various Macy's stores around the country. But, with every merger, with every change, with every renaming, we lose a slice of America.
Our choices are dwindling. It's getting so that when we travel, we aren't going to have a clue where we are, based on shopping and dining; the malls and the strips look the same. Already, we can go to the same big box stores in every major American city, large or small. Best Buy. Staples. Barnes and Noble. Circuit City. PetsMart. Home Depot. One of the 3,600 some Wal-Mart stores in the U.S. alone. And even when we pay for our purchases, whether we write a check or use a credit card, our banks are consolidating, too. The huge Bank of America and MBNA banking corporations announced earlier this year that they were merging, too. Then when we quench our thirsts, we have our choice of the same mediocre coffee at Starbucks on every street corner (they are planning to open another 1,800 coffee shops in 2006) or the same arteriosclerosing Happy Meals at one of the 31,561 McDonald's stores in the country. And what city doesn't have an Olive Garden or a Chili's or a Red Lobster or a Bennigan's? Did you travel to another town to shop? Will you be staying at a hotel in the HIlton group or the Marriott group?
Not everyone is unhappy about our homogenization. Every mall wants a Gap and an Abercrombie and Fitch. Krispy Kreme has to have traffic control for a week when they open a new store in a new city. Anywhere in the country, I can guess a guy's age based on whether he's dressed in Nautica, Hilfiger, or Hollister. We watch television and movies to see what people are wearing, and then we want it for ourselves. We watch music videos to see what the hip-hoppers are wearing so we know that we want North Face winter gear so badly our kids will murder one another for it. T.G.I.Friday's and Denny's always seem to be packed with diners, no matter how bad the food or rude the service. So, obviously, there's something about national franchises that the American public seems to accept, if not crave. We all want to dress alike and shop at the same stores and eat at the same restaurants, whether we are in Atlanta or Seattle, Bloomington, Indiana, or El Paso, Texas.
It makes me sad, though, because when I go home to Tulsa, I don't want Florida stone crabs claws or Louisiana crawfish etouffee or Maryland blue crab cakes, cause they just aren't the same in a town that cooks beef 90% of the time. In D.C., the Amerindian food all has that institutionalized blandness, I don't even want to talk about what passes for Mexican food, and the chicken fried steaks would even shame my high school cafeteria. Yet, we continue our march towards mediocrity, towards our least common denominator; we accept and welcome our increasing homogenization.
Homogenization is for milk, not for stores and restaurants. I just pray that I am not the lone voice in the American consumer wilderness who values what we are losing.
Malaysia Kopitiam, Washington, D.C.
I'm craving food right now. What I want is a salad we had the other day at Malaysia Kopitiam they called a "crispy squid salad with lemon grass dressing," which really wasn't "squid" at all. It was a big mound of long, thin shreds of green apple and green mango with shallots and mint leaves which had been tossed in a mouth-watering hot-spicy sweet and sour vinaigrette scented with lemon grass. Some very crispy small pieces of deep-fried squid were sprinkled on the top, but it was really more of a garnish than a main theme for a salad. The dish really didn't have much of a seafood taste to it at all. Anyway, it's that zesty apple-mango stuff I'm craving now.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
El Chalán, Washington, D.C.
In keeping with our tradition of observing international independence days in the month of July, tonight we celebrated the 1821 independence day of Peru from Spain by dining in D.C.'s western downtown area at a Peruvian restaurant called El Chalán. El Chalán is a name which my fading high school Spanish tells me translates roughly to something like "The Horse Trader." Located in a very unpretentious storefront underneath a row of shops across the street from the Uruguayan Embassy, the restaurant is a simply decorated, two dining room operation. The walls were covered with large poster-sized photographs of the Andes, Mayan ruins, and street scenes from Lima, which were approaching sepia-tones with age.
We didn't have a reservation, but were seated immediately at a tiny two-top table covered by a thin white cloth in a niche in the main dining room with a view of the bar and the entry way. I noticed that all of the larger tables were merely arrangements of the same two-tops. There were quite a number of mature waiters and assistants running around the restaurant, and I did see one female waiter. All were clad in black trousers and bow ties with white shirts. When we arrived a little after 8, probably about half of the tables were filled. There was an older gentleman in the other room (he later visited our room) who played the guitar and sang what I would call standard "Miami-style" nightclub music, heavy on the Elvis and showtunes, but with a few Latin standards.
We drank a Peruvian beer called Pilsen Callao while we pondered the menu. The beer was light and pleasant and very much in the pale pilsner tradition. The three-page menu was very straight forward and fully translated into English. There was a page devoted to soups, salads, and simple appetizers, a page with the "better" (mostly seafood) appetizers or first courses and house specialties, and a page with chicken, beef, and steak entrees (I thought the division between "beef" and "steak" was interesting). Many of the offerings looked very traditionally Spanish, while others had a decided South American flare to them. I didn't see anything at all on the menu which was exotic or unfamiliar. As soon as I saw the listings, I saw immediately what I wanted for my entree, since it was something I've not had in years and years.
Our first course was the ceviche mixto, the traditional Spanish raw seafood dish where the seafood is "cooked" by marinading it in lime juice. Their version also included some very hot pepper spice in the marinade, as well as a goodly quantity of sliced red onion rings. The ceviche included at least two different types of fish, plus shrimp, a mussel, some squid, and some conch. I'm usually not wild about conch, but this version was good and not tough or chewy at all. Along with the fish we received a basket of sliced bread with a distinctly sweet taste and a sauce which resembled brown mustard but that was not mustard at all, and which had a very hot, "heavy" pepper taste.
For entrees, Leo had the arroz con mariscos, a paella-like dish with traditional saffron rice and vegetables with an assortment of seafood, including both mussels and clams. Apparently it was good, since he ate the whole plateful (his Atkins diet notwithstanding!).
I was excited to have cabrito norteno, as this is the first time I've been to a restaurant in over a decade that featured cabrito. The cabrito was explained in the menu very simply as being a "goat stew" (a bit of a misnomer, since "cabro" is goat and "cabrito" is kid), so I was totally not expecting what arrived on the table. The cabrito was almost like a gourmet braised lamb shank, with two pieces of large bone with large chunks of melt-in-your-mouth cabrito, all in what was more of a long-simmered, rich, brown, reduction sauce than a traditional stew or soup. The meat was just wonderful, with no tinge of toughness or strong taste (so they didn't cheat and use "young" goat), and I think this was the best meal I've had all week. Also on the plate were a scoop of white rice, some lettuce and spicy marinated onions, and a serving of some variety of white bean that was fully cooked and which had an intriguing butteriness to the flavor.
The dessert offerings were a little limited, with only flan and rice pudding. We were already feeling full from the meal, so we passed on the dessert.
During the course of the meal, the restaurant crowd picked up considerably, so that when we were leaving around 9:45, all of the tables were full and there were people standing waiting for tables. Ten o'clock is a "normal" dinner hour in Spain and many hispanic cultures, so that's not all that unusual. Later in the evening, a lot of big families were coming in, but earlier on, I was noticing a lot of tables with three men and one unusually beautiful and exotic young woman. I assume that most of the patrons were either Peruvian or at least South American, since I was hearing Spanish being spoken at most all of the tables other than ours. Since this is not a weekend night, I don't know if the late crowd is normal for this place, or if people were coming in to celebrate Independence Day. There were no particular holiday food specials, though, and when I mentioned to the waiter we'd come for the holiday, he didn't seem overly excited about it. That may have been more of a language issue, since Spanish seemed to be his primary language.
I'm looking forward to another visit to El Chalán, especially to try some of the other traditional Peruvian specialties such as lomo saltado, lamb in beer, and the chicken in peanut and onion sauce. El Chalán, 1924 Eye Street Northwest, between the Foggy Bottom and Farragut West Metro stops.
We didn't have a reservation, but were seated immediately at a tiny two-top table covered by a thin white cloth in a niche in the main dining room with a view of the bar and the entry way. I noticed that all of the larger tables were merely arrangements of the same two-tops. There were quite a number of mature waiters and assistants running around the restaurant, and I did see one female waiter. All were clad in black trousers and bow ties with white shirts. When we arrived a little after 8, probably about half of the tables were filled. There was an older gentleman in the other room (he later visited our room) who played the guitar and sang what I would call standard "Miami-style" nightclub music, heavy on the Elvis and showtunes, but with a few Latin standards.
We drank a Peruvian beer called Pilsen Callao while we pondered the menu. The beer was light and pleasant and very much in the pale pilsner tradition. The three-page menu was very straight forward and fully translated into English. There was a page devoted to soups, salads, and simple appetizers, a page with the "better" (mostly seafood) appetizers or first courses and house specialties, and a page with chicken, beef, and steak entrees (I thought the division between "beef" and "steak" was interesting). Many of the offerings looked very traditionally Spanish, while others had a decided South American flare to them. I didn't see anything at all on the menu which was exotic or unfamiliar. As soon as I saw the listings, I saw immediately what I wanted for my entree, since it was something I've not had in years and years.
Our first course was the ceviche mixto, the traditional Spanish raw seafood dish where the seafood is "cooked" by marinading it in lime juice. Their version also included some very hot pepper spice in the marinade, as well as a goodly quantity of sliced red onion rings. The ceviche included at least two different types of fish, plus shrimp, a mussel, some squid, and some conch. I'm usually not wild about conch, but this version was good and not tough or chewy at all. Along with the fish we received a basket of sliced bread with a distinctly sweet taste and a sauce which resembled brown mustard but that was not mustard at all, and which had a very hot, "heavy" pepper taste.
For entrees, Leo had the arroz con mariscos, a paella-like dish with traditional saffron rice and vegetables with an assortment of seafood, including both mussels and clams. Apparently it was good, since he ate the whole plateful (his Atkins diet notwithstanding!).
I was excited to have cabrito norteno, as this is the first time I've been to a restaurant in over a decade that featured cabrito. The cabrito was explained in the menu very simply as being a "goat stew" (a bit of a misnomer, since "cabro" is goat and "cabrito" is kid), so I was totally not expecting what arrived on the table. The cabrito was almost like a gourmet braised lamb shank, with two pieces of large bone with large chunks of melt-in-your-mouth cabrito, all in what was more of a long-simmered, rich, brown, reduction sauce than a traditional stew or soup. The meat was just wonderful, with no tinge of toughness or strong taste (so they didn't cheat and use "young" goat), and I think this was the best meal I've had all week. Also on the plate were a scoop of white rice, some lettuce and spicy marinated onions, and a serving of some variety of white bean that was fully cooked and which had an intriguing butteriness to the flavor.
The dessert offerings were a little limited, with only flan and rice pudding. We were already feeling full from the meal, so we passed on the dessert.
During the course of the meal, the restaurant crowd picked up considerably, so that when we were leaving around 9:45, all of the tables were full and there were people standing waiting for tables. Ten o'clock is a "normal" dinner hour in Spain and many hispanic cultures, so that's not all that unusual. Later in the evening, a lot of big families were coming in, but earlier on, I was noticing a lot of tables with three men and one unusually beautiful and exotic young woman. I assume that most of the patrons were either Peruvian or at least South American, since I was hearing Spanish being spoken at most all of the tables other than ours. Since this is not a weekend night, I don't know if the late crowd is normal for this place, or if people were coming in to celebrate Independence Day. There were no particular holiday food specials, though, and when I mentioned to the waiter we'd come for the holiday, he didn't seem overly excited about it. That may have been more of a language issue, since Spanish seemed to be his primary language.
I'm looking forward to another visit to El Chalán, especially to try some of the other traditional Peruvian specialties such as lomo saltado, lamb in beer, and the chicken in peanut and onion sauce. El Chalán, 1924 Eye Street Northwest, between the Foggy Bottom and Farragut West Metro stops.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Cactus Cantina, Washington, D.C.
After another Summer Music Festival performance at the National Cathedral tonight, my friend Bob from the State Department (who'd dragged me out to the concert tonight) and I wandered up the street a bit from the cathedral close and had a little late evening supper at Cactus Cantina, a "Mexican" place that's a part of a small local chain. For some reason, the restaurant's decor included not only the traditional Mexican-looking stuff, but several posters and a big display case of Plains Indian regalia such as a feather war bonnet, a porcupine-quilled pipe bag, a beaded buckskin shirt, and other articles near the entrance. I'm not really sure why they had the Indian stuff there, since there weren't any Indian food items on the menu, and nothing else at the restaurant referred to it. Odd. Very odd.
The restaurant was loud, noisy, and crowded. The menu was pretty standard "contemporary"-Mex. Service was rather young and untrained, but typical for this type of restaurant. A few times, I noticed our waitress slowly reaching for our table nearly suspended in limbo as she was busy giving the Suzie Sorority fake "hiii-eeee" to other female patrons she seemed to recognize.
I ended up ordering the spinach enchillada platter. It had two enchilladas in flour tortilla wrappers, stuffed with a lot of too-intense spinach (probably from them using a goodly quantity of chopped frozen spinach inside), covered with some kind of strangely flavorless white sauce, and topped with a few slices of avocado. A big helping of plain white rice was on the plate, and a small bowl of black beans came along on the side There was also a mound of salad on the platter, but I wasn't expecting the large amount of shredded cabbage along with the lettuce and tomato.
Bob had a combination plate that looked very good. There was a taco, a tamale, and an enchilada with ample shredded beef on the plate, plus salad like mine, and he got some Spanish rice with a bowl of brown beans. We were tempted to get dessert, but it was late and we really weren't still hungry, though I was quite curious to try their strawberry-almond charlotte.
The restaurant was loud, noisy, and crowded. The menu was pretty standard "contemporary"-Mex. Service was rather young and untrained, but typical for this type of restaurant. A few times, I noticed our waitress slowly reaching for our table nearly suspended in limbo as she was busy giving the Suzie Sorority fake "hiii-eeee" to other female patrons she seemed to recognize.
I ended up ordering the spinach enchillada platter. It had two enchilladas in flour tortilla wrappers, stuffed with a lot of too-intense spinach (probably from them using a goodly quantity of chopped frozen spinach inside), covered with some kind of strangely flavorless white sauce, and topped with a few slices of avocado. A big helping of plain white rice was on the plate, and a small bowl of black beans came along on the side There was also a mound of salad on the platter, but I wasn't expecting the large amount of shredded cabbage along with the lettuce and tomato.
Bob had a combination plate that looked very good. There was a taco, a tamale, and an enchilada with ample shredded beef on the plate, plus salad like mine, and he got some Spanish rice with a bowl of brown beans. We were tempted to get dessert, but it was late and we really weren't still hungry, though I was quite curious to try their strawberry-almond charlotte.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Cafe Deluxe, Washington, D.C.
Went to a concert last night at the National Cathedral with a couple of friends. Afterwards, we wandered over to Cafe Deluxe for an apres-concert supper. I had a lovely, thick, crab cake floating on a pool of tasty, sweet, cream sauce lightly touched with dijon mustard along side an interesting mix of sauteed sweet fresh corn and clipped bits of fresh asparagus. For dessert I had a strawberry cobbler à la mode with a pate sucreé top crust so thick and sweet it was nearly a cookie dough.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Ben's Chili Bowl, Washington, D.C.
Last week, Baj was headed back to Toronto, so before he left, we got together to see a bit more of esoteric Washington. We started with a late breakfast. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant in D.C. that's actually open for breakfast and that isn't a $30+ per person hotel dining room? We started at Dupont Circle, went to 17th, then went to U Street and ended up all the way down by the Cardozo Metro stop, where we landed at Ben's Chili Bowl. Ben's, the fifty-year-old landmark greasy spoon, is actually open for breakfast, and they have all kinds of breakfast foods that don't include chili! Baj had a breakfast sandwich of egg, cheese, and vegetarian sausage, and I had the (regular) sausage and egg platter with a big bowl of grits. Yum yum. Not a good place for the arteries, but I do like diner food.
Mar de Plata, Washington, D.C.
Last week, a realtor friend of mine took me to dinner at a place near his office. He chose Mar de Plata, an Argentine restaurant on 14th just south of P (around the corner from Whole Foods). I've walked by Mar de Plata several times, but this was my first time to go in. They have a very interesting menu with a full page of tapas and then a long page with both Spanish and Argentine classics, including a large grouping of various paellas. We sipped amontillado sherry while we perused the menu.
We started with their summer classic cold gazpacho, which turned out to be a servicable soup of finely pureed tomato and herbs with some tiny, tiny dice of cucumber, tomato, and carrot in it for texture and a good squeeze of lemon juice in it. They brought us a big basket of rustic country bread and a bowl of grated white cheese, roasted peppers, and olive oil as a tasty spread for the bread.
For our main course, he had an interesting vegetarian tower with a spicy lentil patty, longitudinally sliced and grilled yellow and zuccini squashes, broiled tomato, a little frisee, and some thin, crisp cracker things stacked on the sides. I had arroz negro con mariscos from the paella section of the menu. The arroz negro, or "black rice", was a risotto-like dish with arborio rice cooked in squid ink until it was thick and black as tar. In keeping with its paella roots, there were little pieces of diced sausage in the mix as well as a number of shrimp, some squid, some fish, and several mussels in the shell. The seafood had a bit of a doggy taste to it, a disappointment which is something I often encounter when meats have been frozen and then cooked. The arroz was quite good, though, and I enjoyed the dish. We drank the house Chilean cabernet (which the hispanic waiter kept calling a "cab-er-net") that was a little thin, but went well with the arroz.
For dessert, I had a flan which was okay but rather ordinary.
We started with their summer classic cold gazpacho, which turned out to be a servicable soup of finely pureed tomato and herbs with some tiny, tiny dice of cucumber, tomato, and carrot in it for texture and a good squeeze of lemon juice in it. They brought us a big basket of rustic country bread and a bowl of grated white cheese, roasted peppers, and olive oil as a tasty spread for the bread.
For our main course, he had an interesting vegetarian tower with a spicy lentil patty, longitudinally sliced and grilled yellow and zuccini squashes, broiled tomato, a little frisee, and some thin, crisp cracker things stacked on the sides. I had arroz negro con mariscos from the paella section of the menu. The arroz negro, or "black rice", was a risotto-like dish with arborio rice cooked in squid ink until it was thick and black as tar. In keeping with its paella roots, there were little pieces of diced sausage in the mix as well as a number of shrimp, some squid, some fish, and several mussels in the shell. The seafood had a bit of a doggy taste to it, a disappointment which is something I often encounter when meats have been frozen and then cooked. The arroz was quite good, though, and I enjoyed the dish. We drank the house Chilean cabernet (which the hispanic waiter kept calling a "cab-er-net") that was a little thin, but went well with the arroz.
For dessert, I had a flan which was okay but rather ordinary.
Notti Bianche, Washington, D.C.
A couple of weeks ago, a small group of us headed out to Sunday dinner, and went to the George Washington University Inn on the street behind me to see if their restaurant, Nectar, had reopened after remodeling. Turns out it's open again, but it's now known as Notti Bianche, an Italian-style trattoria. I was kind of amused by the name.....notti bianche is, literally, "white nights" in Italian, but it's also an idiomatic expression in Italy meaning "sleepless nights." LOL
The young chef from Dish at the River Inn down the street is also overseeing this new restaurant. When we arrived, the main dining room was filled with a group of Girl Scouts who were staying at the hotel, so we got the manager to seat us out on the patio for a little more quiet. We also let the manager pick our menu for the evening, and it turned out to be a nice adventure. Here's his picture:
We started with the roasted house olives. They took a mixture of four or five different green and ripe Italian olives, marinated them in olive oil, garlic, lemon zest, and fresh oregano, then roasted them in the oven and served them warm at the table. Hot, juicy olives are really good! We also got a basket of toasted Italian breads and foccacia, and the obligatory plate of olive oil and roasted garlic was poured up for dipping the bread. With the olives, he brought us the first of the evening's wines, and I thought it interesting that all of the wines he brought were reds. We started with a 2002 Capestrano Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Now, abruzzos are notorious for being pleasant, innocuous little wines, but this one was actually very flavorful and had enough substance and acidity to stand up to the heavy garlic of the olives. There was a nice blackberry touch to the taste and it was a bit spicy for a typical abruzzo.
Next we had chilled tomato soup with tiny poached shrimp, toasted pinoli, and a basil mascarpone. This was a really interesting soup. The base soup was a rough puree of tomatoes and cucumber with multiple other vegetable flavors, and it seemed to have been brightened a bit with a shot of red wine vinegar. The soup was ladled into a soup plate, and then a mixture of the shrimp, quartered cherry tomatoes, pine nuts, and fresh shredded basil leaves were mounded in the center, and the mascarpone cheese sauce was drizzled all over the top of the presentation. It was very pretty, and there was enough shrimp and cheese almost to make it qualify as a fish course.
Our second course was a fava bean salad with a glass of 2003 Mark West Pinot Noir (no, no chianti!). The salad was an interesting construction. On the plate was a mixture of fava beans and pureed fava beans with a hint of mint chiffonade, topped with a thin, crispy, crepe-sized, peccorino romano cracker. On top of the cracker was a mix of bitter salad greens with crispy slivvers of fried pancetta ham dressed in a light lemony vinaigrette. A large thin slice of pecorino cheese rested over the greens, and another cracker crowned the entire oeuvre. It was a nice mixture of tastes and textures. The wine had a nice richness to it with hints of strawberry tastes and a touch of oakiness. It wasn't bad for a Central Coast wine.
We all got separate entrees. One dish was a cannelloni stuffed with poached chicken and sweet Italian sausage and served on a bed of braised baby spinach and shallots, then sauced with a veal stock and chianti reduction and garnished with frizzled sage leaves. Another was a half grilled Tuscan chicken served with a vegetable fricassee and creamy polenta. Both of the chicken dishes came with a glass of 2003 Morgante Nero d'Avola, which I didn't get a chance to taste.
My entree was a skillet-braised monkfish with Sardinian couscous. There were a couple of things I didn't like about the presentation, but when I read the menu after dinner, I saw that those things were specifically explained and set out, so I guess I have to accept them as they were, since we let the manager select the menu without any guidance or restrictions. What I didn't like about the fish presentation was that it was served on the bone, "steak style." It gave it a novel look, but I didn't like having to hack around the big fish bones. The plate was also surrounded by a semi-circle of thin anchovy crackers, and I hate anchovies, so I didn't eat more than a bite of the crackers. The fish itself, though, was very flavorful. Monkfish is one of those fish that strongly takes on the flavors and character of the foods cooked with it, and this dish had been braised with procscuitto ham, anchovies (ick, more anchovy, but not too much), fennel, olives, celery, garlic, Italian parsley, capers, and tomatoes in a shellfish stock. The couscous was nice, though I don't know what made it "Sardinian." My wine was a 2002 Cantele Primitivo-Puglia. It was a medium-weight, slightly peppery wine that was adequate, but didn't really stand up to the complex, strong flavors of the stewed vegetables.
We were too full for dessert, so we segued into coffee and cognac. The manager brought us snifters of a very nice Pierre Ferrano Amber Grand Cru.
Notti Bianchi was a very enjoyable dining experience, and we didn't experience any sleeplessness at all! The prices were surprisingly moderate for the quality of food and service, and we all agreed that it's a place we should put on our regular restaurant rotation.
The young chef from Dish at the River Inn down the street is also overseeing this new restaurant. When we arrived, the main dining room was filled with a group of Girl Scouts who were staying at the hotel, so we got the manager to seat us out on the patio for a little more quiet. We also let the manager pick our menu for the evening, and it turned out to be a nice adventure. Here's his picture:
We started with the roasted house olives. They took a mixture of four or five different green and ripe Italian olives, marinated them in olive oil, garlic, lemon zest, and fresh oregano, then roasted them in the oven and served them warm at the table. Hot, juicy olives are really good! We also got a basket of toasted Italian breads and foccacia, and the obligatory plate of olive oil and roasted garlic was poured up for dipping the bread. With the olives, he brought us the first of the evening's wines, and I thought it interesting that all of the wines he brought were reds. We started with a 2002 Capestrano Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Now, abruzzos are notorious for being pleasant, innocuous little wines, but this one was actually very flavorful and had enough substance and acidity to stand up to the heavy garlic of the olives. There was a nice blackberry touch to the taste and it was a bit spicy for a typical abruzzo.
Next we had chilled tomato soup with tiny poached shrimp, toasted pinoli, and a basil mascarpone. This was a really interesting soup. The base soup was a rough puree of tomatoes and cucumber with multiple other vegetable flavors, and it seemed to have been brightened a bit with a shot of red wine vinegar. The soup was ladled into a soup plate, and then a mixture of the shrimp, quartered cherry tomatoes, pine nuts, and fresh shredded basil leaves were mounded in the center, and the mascarpone cheese sauce was drizzled all over the top of the presentation. It was very pretty, and there was enough shrimp and cheese almost to make it qualify as a fish course.
Our second course was a fava bean salad with a glass of 2003 Mark West Pinot Noir (no, no chianti!). The salad was an interesting construction. On the plate was a mixture of fava beans and pureed fava beans with a hint of mint chiffonade, topped with a thin, crispy, crepe-sized, peccorino romano cracker. On top of the cracker was a mix of bitter salad greens with crispy slivvers of fried pancetta ham dressed in a light lemony vinaigrette. A large thin slice of pecorino cheese rested over the greens, and another cracker crowned the entire oeuvre. It was a nice mixture of tastes and textures. The wine had a nice richness to it with hints of strawberry tastes and a touch of oakiness. It wasn't bad for a Central Coast wine.
We all got separate entrees. One dish was a cannelloni stuffed with poached chicken and sweet Italian sausage and served on a bed of braised baby spinach and shallots, then sauced with a veal stock and chianti reduction and garnished with frizzled sage leaves. Another was a half grilled Tuscan chicken served with a vegetable fricassee and creamy polenta. Both of the chicken dishes came with a glass of 2003 Morgante Nero d'Avola, which I didn't get a chance to taste.
My entree was a skillet-braised monkfish with Sardinian couscous. There were a couple of things I didn't like about the presentation, but when I read the menu after dinner, I saw that those things were specifically explained and set out, so I guess I have to accept them as they were, since we let the manager select the menu without any guidance or restrictions. What I didn't like about the fish presentation was that it was served on the bone, "steak style." It gave it a novel look, but I didn't like having to hack around the big fish bones. The plate was also surrounded by a semi-circle of thin anchovy crackers, and I hate anchovies, so I didn't eat more than a bite of the crackers. The fish itself, though, was very flavorful. Monkfish is one of those fish that strongly takes on the flavors and character of the foods cooked with it, and this dish had been braised with procscuitto ham, anchovies (ick, more anchovy, but not too much), fennel, olives, celery, garlic, Italian parsley, capers, and tomatoes in a shellfish stock. The couscous was nice, though I don't know what made it "Sardinian." My wine was a 2002 Cantele Primitivo-Puglia. It was a medium-weight, slightly peppery wine that was adequate, but didn't really stand up to the complex, strong flavors of the stewed vegetables.
We were too full for dessert, so we segued into coffee and cognac. The manager brought us snifters of a very nice Pierre Ferrano Amber Grand Cru.
Notti Bianchi was a very enjoyable dining experience, and we didn't experience any sleeplessness at all! The prices were surprisingly moderate for the quality of food and service, and we all agreed that it's a place we should put on our regular restaurant rotation.
Bistro Francais, Georgetown, D.C.
Once again it's time to celebrate the French independence day. Or, at least it was last Thursday. My friend Bob and I made a late afternoon appearance at the Hirschhorn Museum (the "modern art" place at the Smithsonian) to see the Visual Music exhibit, then rode the new D.C. Circulator bus into Georgetown. We were walking down the street headed elsewhere, but had to duck into Bistro Francais when it started to rain.
As it turned out, Bistro Francais was hosting a special Bastille Day dinner that evening, with the main seating at 9 p.m. It was a little $45 per person prix fixe thing, but I didn't feel overly impressed with the menu choices. Luckily, though, we were there early, and the bistro has an early bird prix fixe until 7 p.m. for $19 that includes three courses plus a glass of wine, so we opted to do that.
After a Dubonet Rouge on the rocks with a splash of club soda and a twist of lemon (a French cocktail seemed in order to celebrate the holiday), for my entree (in France, the starter course is called the "entree"), I started with the mousse de foie de volaille au sherry, a very tasty liver mousse that was served like a slice of pate on the plate and accompanied by the bistro's crusty breads. It had all the flavor of a pate, yet it wasn't too strong with intense liver flavor, and had a good lightness more appropriate to summer dining. Bob chose the moules Niçoise for his first course, which were mussels baked in a tomato, garlic, black olive, and butter sauce, and he ate them all, so I guess they were good.
We both had the same plat, the bisto's version of Moroccan couscous, which included stewed lamb shank and a big sausage along with stewed vegetables, all resting on a big mound of couscous. While couscous may not be a particularly French dish, it's very popular in France. The first time I ever had couscous was in Paris in a little cafe over the shops on a street across from the old Opera House over twenty years ago, about a week before Bastille Day that year. A glass of the house red bordeaux accompanied dinner.
We were stuffed after this much food, but the dessert is included in the dinner, so our waiter Thierry (should I mention that Thierry made a point on at least two occasions to tell us that he was an exotic dancer at Secrets? I'm sure Bob's kids would have been appalled!) brought us a dessert tray. We picked a pear tart and an almond tart. My almond tart was pretty good for a French dessert (I've always preferred German and Viennese pastries).
It was pouring down rain, so we lingered over coffee with cream and Hennessey V.S.O.P. cognac, and since we had a table right in the front window, we got to watch the Georgetown street traffic. Eventually we found a lull in the rain and dashed down M Street, only to get two blocks and have to take refuge under an office building awning by an art gallery. A Circulator bus came by, so we hopped on it and rode to Washington Circle, and by then, the rain seemed to stop.
Vous avez un jour de bastille heureux!
Friday, July 08, 2005
Market Cafe, Washington, D.C.
My visiting Indian-Canadian friend Baj had never had grits before, so we wandered down to Market Cafe at the Eastern Market and got little tiny bowls of grits with a huge dollop of butter. I showed him how to put salt and pepper on them and stir in the butter.....I think he actually liked it! Of course, he's always very polite, so he might have hated them and was just being gracious.
Bread and Chocolate, Washington, D.C.
My friend Baj and I had brunch at Bread and Chocolate on Capitol Hill, eating al fresco and braving the risk of additional downpours, but luckily, none happened. Baj had a huge bowl of muesli with walnuts and fresh fruits and I had an avocado and cream cheese omelette with some rosemary new potatoes and a slice of canteloupe. He had a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and I had a cafe au lait. I had a refill on my cafe au lait, and the waitress charged me for it.
Pan Am Cafeteria, Fairfax, VA
While I was in Virginia yesterday, I had an interesting lunch at a place in Fairfax called Pan Am Cafeteria. I was kind of tired of all the Asian food we've been eating lately, so I thought that the Pan Am would probably be Mexican or South American or something. One look at the menu, though, with its roast lamb, spanikopita, and moussaka, and I knew I was in a Greek place.
I ordered the calf liver and onions special. The waitress brought me a great big green tossed salad with house bleu cheese dressing that was very tasty. Then the liver arrived, and I was very pleasantly surprised. The liver was not heavily breaded, had been gently sauteed on both sides, and was still tender and juicy when served. One ordinarily doesn't expect such cooking delicacy in a diner-type restaurant, but this was really good. There was an ample supply of cooked onions, and the rest of the plate was mounded with hot, fresh, hand-cut French fries.
I shouldn't have, but I endulged in a piece of coconut cream pie for dessert. The pie had a thick layer of whipped cream with commercial coconut sprinkled on top. It was ok, but I did notice that the pastry was the frozen commercial variety.
From the looks of other tables around the cafe, it looks like they do a lot of good blue plate specials here. If I'm ever in the neighborhood again, I might just have to pop in again.
I ordered the calf liver and onions special. The waitress brought me a great big green tossed salad with house bleu cheese dressing that was very tasty. Then the liver arrived, and I was very pleasantly surprised. The liver was not heavily breaded, had been gently sauteed on both sides, and was still tender and juicy when served. One ordinarily doesn't expect such cooking delicacy in a diner-type restaurant, but this was really good. There was an ample supply of cooked onions, and the rest of the plate was mounded with hot, fresh, hand-cut French fries.
I shouldn't have, but I endulged in a piece of coconut cream pie for dessert. The pie had a thick layer of whipped cream with commercial coconut sprinkled on top. It was ok, but I did notice that the pastry was the frozen commercial variety.
From the looks of other tables around the cafe, it looks like they do a lot of good blue plate specials here. If I'm ever in the neighborhood again, I might just have to pop in again.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Panda Cafe, Washington, D.C.
After I danced another show tonight, Leo dragged me out to dinner at the Panda Cafe near us at 22nd and Pennsylvania. I had a big bowl of seaweed salad and the salt pepper squid with white rice, washed down with a couple of Tsing Tao beers. My squid was very nice. The squid was decoratively scored, very lightly battered, and then flash deep fried, after which it was dry cooked in the wok with sea salt and lots of pepper (very spicy!) and some cooked pieces of white onion and green scallions. then presented on a large leaf-shaped plate. Even though the squid was twice cooked, it was still tender and didn't get that rubbery overcooked tooth to it.
Leo was drinking almond bubble teas and had a plateful of half a dozen huge chicken dumplings for an appetizer and for his main course had a sushi and sushi roll assortment platter that was served on a pretty celadon rectangular platter.
The restaurant was very comfortable. It was a deep, narrow space, with little two-top booths on one side of the room and on the other, a room long banquette in black vinyl with triple-level backrests accommodated a series of black laquered four top tables.
Time to go elevate and ice my foot.
Leo was drinking almond bubble teas and had a plateful of half a dozen huge chicken dumplings for an appetizer and for his main course had a sushi and sushi roll assortment platter that was served on a pretty celadon rectangular platter.
The restaurant was very comfortable. It was a deep, narrow space, with little two-top booths on one side of the room and on the other, a room long banquette in black vinyl with triple-level backrests accommodated a series of black laquered four top tables.
Time to go elevate and ice my foot.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Four Wines at Best Cellars, Washington, D.C.
What an unexpected surprise I had this afternoon whilst I was getting my hair cut when the wine shop next door to the barber shop, Best Cellars on Connecticut Avenue, was hosting a little wine tasting and invited me in to join them. Now, this was a surprise because I've never been in that particular shop before, and I don't know anyone on staff. Connecticut Avenue is a very busy shopping thoroughfare with a lot of street traffic, and they weren't inviting all the passers-by to come in and taste, either. I don't know if I look like a lush or if I just have about me the refined air of an established oenophile.
The theme for the tasting wasn't really apparent. I'm not at all sure they had one. They presented four wines, two whites and two reds, which were all mid-range priced bottles costing from $24 to $32. The two reds were both from Napa Valley, with one white from Burgundy and the other from Paso Robles on the central California coast.
The afternoon started off with a Domaine Gerebeaux Pouilly-Fuisse 2003, the only French offering of the day. It was a crisp, clean wine with a clear hay color, and was very classically "pouilly-fuisse-y" tasting. It would probably make a nice aperitif wine, though I daresay it didn't have the substance to stand up to more than a light, simple canape. The second white was a Tablas Creek Vineyard Cotes de Tablas Blanc 2003. This was a very interesting white with a complex array of scents and tastes (no doubt because it was a blend of several grapes--I tasted viognier, grenache blanc, and at least one or two other somethings), and had a good acid content that led me to believe it would be a good wine for stronger cheeses. I might actually choose this wine to serve for a cocktail party, and, surprisingly, it was the least expensive bottle of the afternoon.
The reds started off with great promise with a smooth, buttery Hendry Block 7 Zinfandel 2002. It had a nice level of tannin and wasn't too terribly fruity or floral, as some zinfandels are wont to do. It didn't seem to have much aftertaste or staying power to it, but it did seem to have a strongish alcohol afterburn. This was, interestingly, the most expensive wine of the day. The final wine was the Edge Cabernet Sauvignon 2003. It was a surprisingly soft wine, and I suspect that it wasn't 100% cabernet, but probably had a substantial blending of merlot mixed in with it. It's drinkable now and had very little tannic edge, so I suspect it would be a good choice for immediate consumption and not for cellaring. It seemed a little thin and didn't really have the umpff needed to stand up to a heavy meal, but I'm sure it would be fine for cocktail parties or such.
So, there were four interesting wines, with the two middle offerrings being the best, and the Tablas Creek being my favorite of the bunch.
The theme for the tasting wasn't really apparent. I'm not at all sure they had one. They presented four wines, two whites and two reds, which were all mid-range priced bottles costing from $24 to $32. The two reds were both from Napa Valley, with one white from Burgundy and the other from Paso Robles on the central California coast.
The afternoon started off with a Domaine Gerebeaux Pouilly-Fuisse 2003, the only French offering of the day. It was a crisp, clean wine with a clear hay color, and was very classically "pouilly-fuisse-y" tasting. It would probably make a nice aperitif wine, though I daresay it didn't have the substance to stand up to more than a light, simple canape. The second white was a Tablas Creek Vineyard Cotes de Tablas Blanc 2003. This was a very interesting white with a complex array of scents and tastes (no doubt because it was a blend of several grapes--I tasted viognier, grenache blanc, and at least one or two other somethings), and had a good acid content that led me to believe it would be a good wine for stronger cheeses. I might actually choose this wine to serve for a cocktail party, and, surprisingly, it was the least expensive bottle of the afternoon.
The reds started off with great promise with a smooth, buttery Hendry Block 7 Zinfandel 2002. It had a nice level of tannin and wasn't too terribly fruity or floral, as some zinfandels are wont to do. It didn't seem to have much aftertaste or staying power to it, but it did seem to have a strongish alcohol afterburn. This was, interestingly, the most expensive wine of the day. The final wine was the Edge Cabernet Sauvignon 2003. It was a surprisingly soft wine, and I suspect that it wasn't 100% cabernet, but probably had a substantial blending of merlot mixed in with it. It's drinkable now and had very little tannic edge, so I suspect it would be a good choice for immediate consumption and not for cellaring. It seemed a little thin and didn't really have the umpff needed to stand up to a heavy meal, but I'm sure it would be fine for cocktail parties or such.
So, there were four interesting wines, with the two middle offerrings being the best, and the Tablas Creek being my favorite of the bunch.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Thai Place, Washington, D.C.
Leo got home from the gym tonight and announced that he was ravenous. So, he dragged me off to one of his favorite locales for his dates, Thai Place, just a short three block walk through the fireflies to the 22nd and Pennsylvania area. It was a little too humid to sit out on the sidewalk, so we went inside and got the window seat. Didn't make much difference. It was warm and muggy in the restaurant, too.
While I sipped my limed iced tea, Leo started with a Rain Forest, a cutesy cocktail in a mai tai glass made of rum, tequilla, lime juice, and raspberries. We split a Tiger's Tear, a Thai-inspired salad of green leaf lettuce with shreds of carrot, julienned red onion and red bell pepper, scallions, and thin slices of grilled steak in a lime, vinegar, and fiery spice dressing.
For our main courses, he had shrimp in red curry on rice (he liked it, but he said the green curry is better) and I had one of the daily specials, a Goong Pattaya, which was a very interesting square plate covered in a tomatoey sweet and sour sauce with a mound of ground chicken in the middle, eight large tiger shrimp artfully arranged around the sides, and then the entire dish was sprinkled with flaked crab meat and cilantro leaves.
While we waited for dessert, he had a Tango Mango Martini, made from orange and mango juices and some kind of premium vodka and garishly garnished with a huge orange slice and a sugared rim. His dessert was a big scoop of green tea ice cream with a speared maraschino cherry impaling the scoop—one of the "Ice Cream Dreams." I had the Thai coconut pudding, served on a big plate in three tiny bowls which had been steamed. Each bowl had a layer of dense, sweet coconut pudding on the bottom and an upper layer of congealed sweetened coconut milk.
It was a fun, tasty meal. The dining room, though, is very "ordinary," and lacks exotic ambiance. For the same price, I think I prefer some of the Thai places on K Street where there is a greater sense of Thai decor. Leo likes it a lot, though, and it does have the advantage of being a neighborhood place that delivers.
While I sipped my limed iced tea, Leo started with a Rain Forest, a cutesy cocktail in a mai tai glass made of rum, tequilla, lime juice, and raspberries. We split a Tiger's Tear, a Thai-inspired salad of green leaf lettuce with shreds of carrot, julienned red onion and red bell pepper, scallions, and thin slices of grilled steak in a lime, vinegar, and fiery spice dressing.
For our main courses, he had shrimp in red curry on rice (he liked it, but he said the green curry is better) and I had one of the daily specials, a Goong Pattaya, which was a very interesting square plate covered in a tomatoey sweet and sour sauce with a mound of ground chicken in the middle, eight large tiger shrimp artfully arranged around the sides, and then the entire dish was sprinkled with flaked crab meat and cilantro leaves.
While we waited for dessert, he had a Tango Mango Martini, made from orange and mango juices and some kind of premium vodka and garishly garnished with a huge orange slice and a sugared rim. His dessert was a big scoop of green tea ice cream with a speared maraschino cherry impaling the scoop—one of the "Ice Cream Dreams." I had the Thai coconut pudding, served on a big plate in three tiny bowls which had been steamed. Each bowl had a layer of dense, sweet coconut pudding on the bottom and an upper layer of congealed sweetened coconut milk.
It was a fun, tasty meal. The dining room, though, is very "ordinary," and lacks exotic ambiance. For the same price, I think I prefer some of the Thai places on K Street where there is a greater sense of Thai decor. Leo likes it a lot, though, and it does have the advantage of being a neighborhood place that delivers.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Dupont Italian Kitchen, Washington, D.C.
Had a lovely al fresco brunch with my friend Scott at the Dupont Italian Kitchen today. I know he looks like a teenager, but I swear he's in his thirties! I've seen his driver's license! He had the eggs florentine and I did the omelette au jambon et fromage. We both asked the waiter to bring us little side salads instead of the fruit and fried potatoes that came with our dishes, but I guess since we didn't say it in Italian, he brought the fruit and potatoes anyway. Alas. I hate to waste food.
Lalibela, Washington, D.C.
Last night, I had a good time meeting a guy from Tulsa who's here in D.C. for June and July to do an internship out at American University. He'd not had any "exotic" food before, so I took him to Lalibela, an Ethiopean place at 14th and P. I thought their food was pretty good. We got one of those variety sampler trays, and it had collard greens, a cabbage and carrot dish, lentils, a lamb dish, two beef dishes (one hot, the other mild with peas), a chicken drumstick, and a hard boiled egg. I also sampled some Ethiopean beer called Harrar, which was pretty good for beer (I'm not a beer person).
Friday, June 17, 2005
Aatish on the Hill, Washington, D.C.
Had an interesting dinner last night on Capitol Hill. We went to Aatish on the Hill, a Pakistani cafe featuring foods cooked in a tandoor. A tandoor is a special type of clay oven used for the equivalent of barbecuing for many types of Indian and Pakistani foods. I've always found tandoori cuisine amusing, since the meats are marinated in yogurt and spices before cooking, and they always come out of the tandoor with a characteristic bright red color.
As soon as we sat down, I was offered a masala chai, which was a black Indian tea (tasted a bit like assam) with an assortment of spices, including cardamom, cloves, pepper, nutmeg, ginger, and I think just a hint of saffron. An assistant brought us some papad (those thin, crisp, torilla-sized wafers made of dal or lentil flour and then deep fried) and a couple of sauces, one the usual mint chutney, and the other an unusual chutney that reminded me of beans and cooked tomatoes.
We decided to eat from the tandoori selections, so we started with a lamb botti kebab and a chicken tikki for appetizers, accompanied by a bowl of raita (yogurt with cucumber and mint), then for the main course, we had a big lamb sheekh kebab and a shrimp kebab tandoori, plus a large dish of spinach and homemade cheese called palak paneer. The palak paneer was good and very traditional for northern Indian cuisine (and Pakistan is in the northwest part of the Indian subcontinent), but I've always prefered the southern version called saag paneer, which is basically the same dish with cream and yogurt in it (I know, the spicings are different, but I'm trying to express a broad, general concept). I didn't much care for the tandoori shrimp. They had been rolled in a very thick layer of spices heavy with paprika to the point that it almost felt breaded in the mouth. On the other hand, the lamb was delicious. The chunks were tender and flavorful, and the tomato, peppers, and onion used on the skewers between the meat while it cooked were included on the serving plate. I love how the meaty pieces of onion were sweet and tender and had taken on a bit of the smokiness of the tandoor.
The main course dishes came with decoratively garnished saffron rice, but I told the waiter not to bring me any. I'm trying to reduce my carbohydrate intake and I'm avoiding rice, pasta, potatoes, bread, etc. That's also why I didn't order any naan or other breads. The waiter didn't help my cause, though, cause after we were totally stuffed from eating dinner, he brought us a big bowl of kheer (rice pudding) on the house. So, in order to be polite, I had to eat my half. It was very good kheer, too, since it was thick and full of spices (I don't like the runny kind or the kind made from vermicelli you see at some other restaurants).
As soon as we sat down, I was offered a masala chai, which was a black Indian tea (tasted a bit like assam) with an assortment of spices, including cardamom, cloves, pepper, nutmeg, ginger, and I think just a hint of saffron. An assistant brought us some papad (those thin, crisp, torilla-sized wafers made of dal or lentil flour and then deep fried) and a couple of sauces, one the usual mint chutney, and the other an unusual chutney that reminded me of beans and cooked tomatoes.
We decided to eat from the tandoori selections, so we started with a lamb botti kebab and a chicken tikki for appetizers, accompanied by a bowl of raita (yogurt with cucumber and mint), then for the main course, we had a big lamb sheekh kebab and a shrimp kebab tandoori, plus a large dish of spinach and homemade cheese called palak paneer. The palak paneer was good and very traditional for northern Indian cuisine (and Pakistan is in the northwest part of the Indian subcontinent), but I've always prefered the southern version called saag paneer, which is basically the same dish with cream and yogurt in it (I know, the spicings are different, but I'm trying to express a broad, general concept). I didn't much care for the tandoori shrimp. They had been rolled in a very thick layer of spices heavy with paprika to the point that it almost felt breaded in the mouth. On the other hand, the lamb was delicious. The chunks were tender and flavorful, and the tomato, peppers, and onion used on the skewers between the meat while it cooked were included on the serving plate. I love how the meaty pieces of onion were sweet and tender and had taken on a bit of the smokiness of the tandoor.
The main course dishes came with decoratively garnished saffron rice, but I told the waiter not to bring me any. I'm trying to reduce my carbohydrate intake and I'm avoiding rice, pasta, potatoes, bread, etc. That's also why I didn't order any naan or other breads. The waiter didn't help my cause, though, cause after we were totally stuffed from eating dinner, he brought us a big bowl of kheer (rice pudding) on the house. So, in order to be polite, I had to eat my half. It was very good kheer, too, since it was thick and full of spices (I don't like the runny kind or the kind made from vermicelli you see at some other restaurants).
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
One Fish, Two Fish, Washington, D.C.
Dinner tonight was at One Fish Two Fish, a West End Asian restaurant on Pennsylvania just before the bridge leading into Georgetown. I had one fish, and Leo had two fish. I had a crispy whole fish (deep fried sea bass, as it turned out) and he had the sashimi, which came with just tuna and salmon. After dinner, he had a "bubble tea," which was a rather unusual drink with mango juice in it, but most odd because of the large, black beads of tapioca in the bottom. The drink came with an extra large straw, and it was funny watching him drink the "bubbles" and seeing them travel up the straw, and then down again when he stopped sucking.
It was an okay restaurant which I've seen recommended in several publications, but it really is just a notch above Chinese fast food. We'll probably be back, though, since it's very close to the condo.
It was an okay restaurant which I've seen recommended in several publications, but it really is just a notch above Chinese fast food. We'll probably be back, though, since it's very close to the condo.
Cafe des Artistes, Washington, D.C.
Lunched today at the Corcoran Gallery, where the service was abysmally and abominably slow.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Jaleo, Washington, D.C.
Jaleo, a Spanish tapas bar up the street from the street festival on 7th, gave Leo, Guy Bill, and me a wonderful mid-afternoon luncheon respite from the heat and the crowds. I had a very very interesting "white gazpacho," which was presented by the server in a large square glass bowl with green grapes and olive oil in the corners and a mound of crab meat in the middle, and then a carafe of the soup was poured into the bowl tableside. It had a very unique taste and texture which I still can't place.....it was almost potatoey, rather than white tomato, and had a distinct vinegar edge to it. Cold soups are always wonderful in the summer.
I also had a little omelette (I forget the Spanish name) with an unusual slice of Spanish sausage in the middle with some Spanish white cheese. Everyone made me have dessert, so I had the arroz con leche (rice pudding), with lots of whipped cream, toasted almond slices on top, and the essence of orange in the thin, rich pudding.
Guy Bill had an interesting shredded apple and cheese salad and the same omelette as me (which he hated), and Leo had a huge bowl of mussels, a plateful of fried squid, a broiled salmon plank, and an enormous flan with an "espuma" of airy whipped cream and Valencia oranges, plus two big sangrias (Guy Bill and I were just doing iced tea, being the Southern boys we are). I don't see how Leo can eat the way he does and still stay so thin. Must be one of the great mysteries of the Orient.
I also had a little omelette (I forget the Spanish name) with an unusual slice of Spanish sausage in the middle with some Spanish white cheese. Everyone made me have dessert, so I had the arroz con leche (rice pudding), with lots of whipped cream, toasted almond slices on top, and the essence of orange in the thin, rich pudding.
Guy Bill had an interesting shredded apple and cheese salad and the same omelette as me (which he hated), and Leo had a huge bowl of mussels, a plateful of fried squid, a broiled salmon plank, and an enormous flan with an "espuma" of airy whipped cream and Valencia oranges, plus two big sangrias (Guy Bill and I were just doing iced tea, being the Southern boys we are). I don't see how Leo can eat the way he does and still stay so thin. Must be one of the great mysteries of the Orient.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Alero, Washington, D.C.
After the parade this afternoon, Leo, Guy Bill, and I wandered up Connecticut to Alero, Guy Bill's favorite Mexican restaurant in town, and had dinner. We started with chips and salsa (the salsa was good, but the chips were too thin and kept breaking!), some chorizo Mexicano (Mexican sausage covered in melted cheese), and a grilled shrimp thingie of some type. Leo had a seafood stew, Guy Bill some spinach, chicken, and cheese quesadillas, and I had a carne al paso (steak). This is a restaurant which gives black beans as its standard accompaniment with plain white rice. I also had some fried yuca on my plate. For dessert, Leo and Guy Bill each had their own cheesecake chimichanga, and I had a piece of a very good Tres Leches cake. Oh, did I mention the big pitcher of margueritas?
Did Leo drink too many margueritas?
Did Leo drink too many margueritas?
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
The Melting Pot, Washington, D.C.
Tonight, my friend Scott and I went to the Melting Pot for what turned out to be a *very* long dinner! The Melting Pot is a small national franchise specialty restaurant chain serving up Americanized versions of traditional and not-so-traditional Swiss fondues. The D.C. location is just south of Dupont Circle on the lower level of a newish office building. Upon entering the building, one has to descend a flight of stairs to get to the Melting Pot, and I didn't see an elevator anywhere around, so handicapped people may be out of luck. The decor is modern and elegant, and a large bar sits right off the maitre d' stand. We were seated in the main dining room in a booth that featured a large hot plate and fondue pot in the middle. We were given cocktail menus, plus large dinner menus that had probably five pages of wine lists before the two pages of food options. They had several prix fixe as well as a la carte options, and since Scott had never had fondue before, we opted for one of the prix fixe menus so he could taste a little of everything.
Naturally, our first course was a traditional Swiss cheese fondue. Our waitress started by placing a quantity of chablis wine in our pot, then slowly adding some shredded Emmenthaler and Swiss cheeses. Once they started to melt, she added garlic, nutmeg, and a couple of stout shots of kirschwasser. While it melted, she brought us small cubes of French bread, cubes of Granny Smith apples, and an assortment of small crudites, all of which were to be speared on our long fondue forks, dipped in the melted cheese, and then eaten. It was a nice fondue, though I daresay that it could have used a couple more shots of kirschwasser (the fondues I've had in Switzerland have all had an almost overpowering alcohol bite).
The next course was a large pecan and dried cherry salad on an interesting bed of mixed baby spring greens that included some unusual greens like Swiss chard, all dressed in a cherry vinaigrette. I enjoyed the salad, but I daresay it could have used a little more chicory, endive, and raddicchio for more bitterness to help cut the richness of the first course.
Next was our "Potomac platter," a lovely large plate full of assorted raw tiger shrimp, ahi tuna cubes, chicken chunks, and a whole lobster tail cut into bite-sized pieces, plus a smaller plate with mushroom caps, broccoli, quartered new potatoes, and yellow summer squash demilune slices. All of these items were to be speared on the fondue forks, then immersed into the new fondue pot full of hot cooking oil. We had the option of cooking the meats and vegetables au natural, or dipping them first into a tempura batter or a sesame batter. Once the food was cooked, we had a plethora of dipping sauce options, including a three-welled dish with a chipotle sauce, an oriental barbecue sauce, and a curried yogurt sauce, and four small bowls of sauces such as a lemon butter, a hot spicy house-made cocktail sauce, a lovely gorgonzola cheese sauce, and a "green goddess" sauce of sour cream and herbs. Seems like I'm forgetting something, but you get the gist. Fondue cooking is such a great boon to conversation, since it takes a minute or two for each morsel to cook in the boiling oil, and you just had to talk in between bites!
The waitress then forced us to eat dessert. We had about eight options as to dessert fondues, and Scott selected for us the "yin-yang" fondue, a mix of dark chocolate and white chocolate in the same pot. The dippers that came with the chocolate on a big platter dusted with confectioner's sugar included a slice of cheesecake, cherries on stems, strawberry halves, banana pieces, pineapple chunks, cubes of angel food cake, and marshmallows rolled in dutched cocoa.
Scott likes sweet drinks, so we shared a bottle of asti spumante with the meal, and after dinner while I sipped my cappuccino, he had a yin-yang martini, which was an interesting white chocolate liqueur, Ketel One vodka, and cream concoction with half the top of the cocktail garnished with a heavy layer of grated dark chocolate.
The Melting Pot is a great place to eat, though, obviously, one will want to dine with friends to be able to share the wonderful fondues. And, be sure to allow plenty of time to eat! We were there tonight for about three and a half hours.
Naturally, our first course was a traditional Swiss cheese fondue. Our waitress started by placing a quantity of chablis wine in our pot, then slowly adding some shredded Emmenthaler and Swiss cheeses. Once they started to melt, she added garlic, nutmeg, and a couple of stout shots of kirschwasser. While it melted, she brought us small cubes of French bread, cubes of Granny Smith apples, and an assortment of small crudites, all of which were to be speared on our long fondue forks, dipped in the melted cheese, and then eaten. It was a nice fondue, though I daresay that it could have used a couple more shots of kirschwasser (the fondues I've had in Switzerland have all had an almost overpowering alcohol bite).
The next course was a large pecan and dried cherry salad on an interesting bed of mixed baby spring greens that included some unusual greens like Swiss chard, all dressed in a cherry vinaigrette. I enjoyed the salad, but I daresay it could have used a little more chicory, endive, and raddicchio for more bitterness to help cut the richness of the first course.
Next was our "Potomac platter," a lovely large plate full of assorted raw tiger shrimp, ahi tuna cubes, chicken chunks, and a whole lobster tail cut into bite-sized pieces, plus a smaller plate with mushroom caps, broccoli, quartered new potatoes, and yellow summer squash demilune slices. All of these items were to be speared on the fondue forks, then immersed into the new fondue pot full of hot cooking oil. We had the option of cooking the meats and vegetables au natural, or dipping them first into a tempura batter or a sesame batter. Once the food was cooked, we had a plethora of dipping sauce options, including a three-welled dish with a chipotle sauce, an oriental barbecue sauce, and a curried yogurt sauce, and four small bowls of sauces such as a lemon butter, a hot spicy house-made cocktail sauce, a lovely gorgonzola cheese sauce, and a "green goddess" sauce of sour cream and herbs. Seems like I'm forgetting something, but you get the gist. Fondue cooking is such a great boon to conversation, since it takes a minute or two for each morsel to cook in the boiling oil, and you just had to talk in between bites!
The waitress then forced us to eat dessert. We had about eight options as to dessert fondues, and Scott selected for us the "yin-yang" fondue, a mix of dark chocolate and white chocolate in the same pot. The dippers that came with the chocolate on a big platter dusted with confectioner's sugar included a slice of cheesecake, cherries on stems, strawberry halves, banana pieces, pineapple chunks, cubes of angel food cake, and marshmallows rolled in dutched cocoa.
Scott likes sweet drinks, so we shared a bottle of asti spumante with the meal, and after dinner while I sipped my cappuccino, he had a yin-yang martini, which was an interesting white chocolate liqueur, Ketel One vodka, and cream concoction with half the top of the cocktail garnished with a heavy layer of grated dark chocolate.
The Melting Pot is a great place to eat, though, obviously, one will want to dine with friends to be able to share the wonderful fondues. And, be sure to allow plenty of time to eat! We were there tonight for about three and a half hours.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Bistro Francais, Georgetown, D.C.
I'm just back from Georgetown, where my friend Garrett took me to eat at Bistro Francais in his little tiny red convertible sports car. It was odd being back there—I was there decades ago when I was doing my internship here—and it was vaguely familiar and yet very strange. We had a simple dinner, since this bistro is known for its prix fixe menu selections.
I started with a very delicious cold cucumber soup with little shreds of julienned cucumber and a flavorful, herbed, thin cucumber liquid. My plat was from the poissons section of the menu, a very nice grilled halibut served on a mirror of lobster Nantua sauce and accompanied by two tiny pieces of carved white potato and a luscious crab and broccoli custard timbale. Also had a nice glass of the house sauvignon blanc. Garrett had the roasted-rare sliced duck breast in an apple-honey sauce on a bed of wild rice. For dessert, we chose from the dessert tray, with Garrett opting for the strawberry tart and me having the lemon tart, followed by an espresso.
We really should go to Bistro Francais more often. It's simple, French bistro food, but more importantly, the kitchen is open late every night, and I have the hardest time finding late-night places to dine in D.C.
I started with a very delicious cold cucumber soup with little shreds of julienned cucumber and a flavorful, herbed, thin cucumber liquid. My plat was from the poissons section of the menu, a very nice grilled halibut served on a mirror of lobster Nantua sauce and accompanied by two tiny pieces of carved white potato and a luscious crab and broccoli custard timbale. Also had a nice glass of the house sauvignon blanc. Garrett had the roasted-rare sliced duck breast in an apple-honey sauce on a bed of wild rice. For dessert, we chose from the dessert tray, with Garrett opting for the strawberry tart and me having the lemon tart, followed by an espresso.
We really should go to Bistro Francais more often. It's simple, French bistro food, but more importantly, the kitchen is open late every night, and I have the hardest time finding late-night places to dine in D.C.
Sushi Taro, Washington, D.C.
Last night, Leo took me back to Sushi Taro on 17th Street, which I think is becoming my favorite local sushi bar. He had the sushi and sashimi bento box, and I had a an ecclectic assortment of food starting with a big bowl of steamed, salted edamame (soybeans in the pod), followed by an interesting salad of five different types of seaweed in a sweet, creamy, "vinegar" dressing, followed by the Tori no Karaage, which is the Japanese version of fried chicken, and ending with the Chawanmushi, that Japanese seafood soup with a layer of egg custard on top, all washed down with many cups of hot, Japanese green tea. The chicken was quite good. They selected large, bite-sized morsels of skinned, boned chicken (both white and dark meat), dredged them very lightly in Japanese bread crumbs, then flash deep fried them until just done and still quite juicy and tender. They came to the table steaming hot. The seafood soup was a little different than it was the last time I had it, since there was very little actual soup broth this time, and the custard layer was thicker. It was still good, and came with shrimp, eel, chicken, fish cake, and some vegetables in it.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Sette, Washington, D.C.
After an afternoon at the Phillip Collection Galleries, my friend Joel and I wandered around the corner to Sette for a late lunch. We sat out on the patio underneath a big canvas canopy and watched the Connecticut Avenue pedestrians walking by. I've been wanting to make to Sette, since it's one of the few restaurants open late in the area, but the reviews I'd read were mixed, so we never prioritized the trip. It's a modern Italian-themed restaurant with a rather small menu, but the service was ample and well trained. We had a rather ecclectic meal that was much more of a nosh than a lunch.
We split a bottle of prosecco that turned out to be a pleasant afternoon sipping wine. The waiter (he said he was Tunisian, and not Italian) also brought us bottles of Italian sparking water. We started with a plate of five very large pieces of grilled squid served amid a mound of dressed mixed greens and quartered cherry tomatoes. Next we had the Italian meat and cheese board, which featured five exotic Italian meats in paper-thin slices and five Italian cheeses cut in different shapes, with four big slices of grilled Italian country bread. We were chatting and lingering so long during these two courses, we should have been at a tapas bar!
About this time, the wind came up and we thought we were going to get a big downpour, so the waiters moved us all inside before we could order a third appetizer. We ended up at the end of the bar, so instead of more food, we moved to espressos and Joel was drinking crema di limoncellos. Eventually, we had a ricotta cheesecake that was ok, but the barmaid had microwaved it before serving, which, of course, I always think devastates all breads and pastries, plus the ricotta was actually hot in places, which made it feel "thin" on the tongue. It improved once it cooled back to room temperature, but the crust naturally was ruined by the nuking.
I suppose I shall have to go back to Sette sometime to try out their pastas and meat courses, but at least the noshing was fun. Joel was such a charming conversationalist, I really didn't pay that much attention to the food, anyway.
We split a bottle of prosecco that turned out to be a pleasant afternoon sipping wine. The waiter (he said he was Tunisian, and not Italian) also brought us bottles of Italian sparking water. We started with a plate of five very large pieces of grilled squid served amid a mound of dressed mixed greens and quartered cherry tomatoes. Next we had the Italian meat and cheese board, which featured five exotic Italian meats in paper-thin slices and five Italian cheeses cut in different shapes, with four big slices of grilled Italian country bread. We were chatting and lingering so long during these two courses, we should have been at a tapas bar!
About this time, the wind came up and we thought we were going to get a big downpour, so the waiters moved us all inside before we could order a third appetizer. We ended up at the end of the bar, so instead of more food, we moved to espressos and Joel was drinking crema di limoncellos. Eventually, we had a ricotta cheesecake that was ok, but the barmaid had microwaved it before serving, which, of course, I always think devastates all breads and pastries, plus the ricotta was actually hot in places, which made it feel "thin" on the tongue. It improved once it cooled back to room temperature, but the crust naturally was ruined by the nuking.
I suppose I shall have to go back to Sette sometime to try out their pastas and meat courses, but at least the noshing was fun. Joel was such a charming conversationalist, I really didn't pay that much attention to the food, anyway.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Cafe des Artistes, Washington, D.C.
Went to lunch with a friend from the Solicitor's office. Good thing we were walking, because the streets were still gridlocked with traffic, as 18th Street was still closed off from this morning's transformer explosions at the World Bank. We strolled over to the Corcoran Gallery and lunched at the Cafe des Artistes. It's a lovely place in what amounts to a grand lobby of the museum, with marble tiled floors, Doric colonades, elaborate friezes, and an elegant atmosphere.
I had a very good Corcoran House Salad, which included grilled chicken, goat cheese, toasted pinon nuts, corn, dried dates, and other goodies, served with a crisp citrus vinaigrette. My friend ate the barbequed pork sandwich, which was totally unlike any BBQ sandwich I'd ever seen. It was a huge pile of what looked to be pulled pork in a surprisingly orangey colored sauce mounded on a portion of an artisanal bread loaf, accompanied by a side order of cole slaw. For dessert, we both ordered the warm chocolate cake, which was individual Bundt cakes glazed in chocolate and crowned with a big scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
I was very impressed with the cafe and its friendly, attentive service. Should be a good place to entertain for business lunches.
I had a very good Corcoran House Salad, which included grilled chicken, goat cheese, toasted pinon nuts, corn, dried dates, and other goodies, served with a crisp citrus vinaigrette. My friend ate the barbequed pork sandwich, which was totally unlike any BBQ sandwich I'd ever seen. It was a huge pile of what looked to be pulled pork in a surprisingly orangey colored sauce mounded on a portion of an artisanal bread loaf, accompanied by a side order of cole slaw. For dessert, we both ordered the warm chocolate cake, which was individual Bundt cakes glazed in chocolate and crowned with a big scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
I was very impressed with the cafe and its friendly, attentive service. Should be a good place to entertain for business lunches.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Szcheuan House, Washington, D.C.
Did you know movie tickets cost $9.75 in D.C.? Afterward seeing a movie, we dined at Szcheuan House, since we were already in Chinatown. The restaurant was ok, but nothing spectacular. The highlight of the evening was eating jellyfish. They were crunchy. I was expecting them to be soft and squishy, but they were like eating crunchy cartilege or something. Tasted good, too, and didn't have a fishy taste. They came with a plate of little ham slices that you put the jellyfish on and then eat together, but I liked the jellyfish by itself better. I couldn't read the menus, since they were in Chinese.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Lei Garden, Washington, D.C.
Had a good lunch yesterday afternoon. Leo took me to Lei Garden, over in Chinatown, for dim sum. It was fun, although I must confess that I can do without eating the heads and shells of the tasty fried and spiced shrimp. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or not, but after we were totally stuffed full of food, one of the carts came by with chicken feet. I've never had chicken feet before. Not sure I want to eat them. But, we were too full to get a dish and try them. Maybe next time.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Bambule, Washington, D.C.
Leo and I headed up to Friendship Heights on the Metro this afternoon for some shopping at the Mazza Gallerie, and other neighborhood stores. The Metro was packed like sardines this afternoon--what was going on? It made us so hungry, we had to wander in to Bambule, a Spanish tapas bar, for a late lunch.
We stood forever at the door waiting to be seated, but the staff seemed to be preoccupied with setting up the patio deck for a big wedding reception. Eventually, one of the waiters went back to the kitchen and yelled at one of the waitresses in Spanish, and she eventually breezed out and told us to sit anywhere we wanted. We found a table in the middle of the dining room, which was actually a nice looking place, with burgundy draperies and ceiling hangings on stucco colored walls with dark woodwork. We sat and sat with no menus, no water, and no wait staff coming over to greet us. Eventually, Leo got out his cell phone to see the clock and announced that if they weren't out by 2:55 (ten minutes from then), we were leaving.
About 2:52. a waitress wandered out to pour water, but I asked her to bring us fresh glasses that didn't still have lipstick on them. That, of course, delayed things even more. After the water arrived, she wandered off again before eventually bringing us menus. After yet another wait, a different, older waitress came out to take our orders. Once we ordered the food, we tried to order sherry, and she said they didn't have any! I can't imagine a tapas bar without sherry!
Anyway, we started with gazpacho, which was cold, crisp, flavorful, and really good. The vegetables had been coarsely ground, rather than diced. The soup had a nice lemon zest to it. We had six tapas plates, including a lovely cerviche, a cheese plate, sliced sausages in sauce, a couple of veal slices, a pork dish wrapped around a potato, some nice calimari, and some sausage roll like things. Leo had some kind of round puff pastry filled with apples for dessert and I had an interesting cheesecake like thing which was freshly baked in flaky pastry (and still warm!), kind of like a small burrito. It was a tasty meal.
Unfortunately, I doubt I go back to Bambule again, since the service was so inattentive and disinterested.
We stood forever at the door waiting to be seated, but the staff seemed to be preoccupied with setting up the patio deck for a big wedding reception. Eventually, one of the waiters went back to the kitchen and yelled at one of the waitresses in Spanish, and she eventually breezed out and told us to sit anywhere we wanted. We found a table in the middle of the dining room, which was actually a nice looking place, with burgundy draperies and ceiling hangings on stucco colored walls with dark woodwork. We sat and sat with no menus, no water, and no wait staff coming over to greet us. Eventually, Leo got out his cell phone to see the clock and announced that if they weren't out by 2:55 (ten minutes from then), we were leaving.
About 2:52. a waitress wandered out to pour water, but I asked her to bring us fresh glasses that didn't still have lipstick on them. That, of course, delayed things even more. After the water arrived, she wandered off again before eventually bringing us menus. After yet another wait, a different, older waitress came out to take our orders. Once we ordered the food, we tried to order sherry, and she said they didn't have any! I can't imagine a tapas bar without sherry!
Anyway, we started with gazpacho, which was cold, crisp, flavorful, and really good. The vegetables had been coarsely ground, rather than diced. The soup had a nice lemon zest to it. We had six tapas plates, including a lovely cerviche, a cheese plate, sliced sausages in sauce, a couple of veal slices, a pork dish wrapped around a potato, some nice calimari, and some sausage roll like things. Leo had some kind of round puff pastry filled with apples for dessert and I had an interesting cheesecake like thing which was freshly baked in flaky pastry (and still warm!), kind of like a small burrito. It was a tasty meal.
Unfortunately, I doubt I go back to Bambule again, since the service was so inattentive and disinterested.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Sassi, Scottsdale, AZ
Way, way out in the far northeastern part of Scottsdale is a grand Italian villa nestled in the shadow of Pinnacle Peak which houses a Southern Italian restaurant recommended by the America West (soon to be U.S. Airways, they announced on the news this evening) in-flight magazine called Sassi. "Sassi" is an Italian word for rocks or stones. The building is fairly new, but it has a definite grandeur and molto lussuoso design. Three of us—a solicitor, a judge, e io—made the lengthy trek tonight for our last dinner in Phoenix, and what an experience it was!
We were seated at a large, round table in the corner of the west side veranda for our al fresco dining experience, with a glorious view of the Arizona sunset awaiting us. With the sun going down behind Pinnacle Peak, the dusk was prolonged, and gave us nice silhouettes of the numerous saguaro cacti in the landscape. Our waiter, who is actually Italian, was very professional and helpful.
As we started with various aperitifs, I chose the DeFaveri Prosecco, an Italian sparkling wine. For antipasti, we nibbled on fiori di zucca, fresh squash blossoms which had been stuffed with a goat cheese and herb mixture, battered in a tempura-like coating, then deep fried to delicate crispness.
My first course (remembering that Italians don't count any of the appetizers, soups, salads, or what have you served before this as "courses") was a very tasty bowl of gnocchi al funghi. They found some very exotic mushrooms for the "funghi" that went with the semolina and ricotta gnocchi dumplings, bathing them in a rich mushroom cream sauce, and garnishing the plate with large shavings of pecorino romano cheese.
Scottaditi di agnello made a wonderful second course, with three good-sized grilled lamb chops from the local Niman Ranch perched on a plateful of saffron artichoke hearts and green Italian olive ragu. The chops were perfectly cooked and had such a fine woodsy taste to them I was strongly tempted to gnaw the bones! One of the other guys also got the lamb chops, and the other the pesce al cartoccio, a halibut steamed in a paper bag with diced vegetables and white wine that looked and smelled absolutely divine. I also got a chance to sample some of the zucca con noci, or slices of butternut squash baked in a wood oven with walnuts and honey, plus some other taste in the dish I couldn't quite place.
In lieu of dessert, I opted for i formaggi. The waiter didn't say what the cheeses were, so I'll have to guess that I had a fresh ricotta, pecorino, and a taleggio (though I'm a bit uncertain about the taleggio). The cheese came with a sliced green apple and another basket of the restaurant's very good assortment of Italian breads, including my favorite, pane pianto, some very thin, crispy, flatbread wafers. Other desserts at the table included a chocolate gelato topped with a layer of toasted hazelnuts and a tartufo, which I can probably best describe as a chocolate ice cream snowball.
I really liked Sassi. The environment was calm and luxurious (I've seen restaurant bathrooms smaller than the toilet stalls in this place!), the staff was attentive without hovering, and there was no pressure at all for us to vacate our prime table once we had finished eating. If one asked for directions to the facilities, a staff member actually escorted one to the room, instead of giving oral directions. (I suppose this also helped keep diners from getting lost in the large villa!) Prices were typical of a restaurant of this high caliber, so they weren't really out of line at all, though a diner should factor in the Italian tradition of what amounts to two "main courses." There is also an extensive, reasonably priced (reasonable is a relative term....) wine list which is heavy on the Italian reds, all categorized by Italian wine region. I give Sassi four and a half stars.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
The Willows, Phoenix, AZ
The three "Alaska girls" from the meeting dragged me out to the casinos, claiming they wanted my company and the chance to show me around. Of course, the real reason they wanted to hang out with me wasn't my charming company, but the fact that I had a rental car. Nevertheless, we went to the Pima Tribe's two "Casino Arizonas," starting at the newer casino, since they had the nicer restaurants there. This casino had a buffet, a fancy steakhouse, and a 24-hour moderate restaurant called The Willows, which was where we dined. The food was simple and good, particularly the shrimp martini I had as an appetizer. This "martini" had eight smoky, grilled shrimp hanging from the rim of a big martini glass that was filled with cocktail sauce, lime wedges, and frisee.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Zest, Phoenix, AZ
After a long, long day of non-stop meetings, three of the solicitors from the D.C. office and I ventured out to dinner at a place called Zest Spirited Dining, another of the highly recommended new restaurants from the Arizona Republic review. Our young environmental lawyer even dressed "up" for the occasion, throwing a long-sleeved dress shirt over his t-shirt and jeans, and wearing black dress shoes to replace his highly decrepit Birkenstocks.
Zest is a dark but very open restaurant with the kitchen fully open to the main dining room and a bar by the main entry. The walls were covered by a temporary display of striking neo-Dadaistic art by a local painter. The menu is surprisingly simple, with just one page of appetizers and one page of entrees, and that was it.
Two of us ended up ordering appetizers, but everyone shared. One of the dishes was the house specialty, an eggplant cheesecake, a tender, cheesy, custardy dish served on a pool of roasted garlic tomato sauce. The other dish was the grilled scallops, with the scallops dusted in Jamaican "jerk" seasonings before being seared on the grill. While I like seared seafood, those who prefer their food thoroughly cooked may wish to specify that to the kitchen ahead of time. The scallops came with a tomatillo chipotle tartar sauce (tasty!) and a cilantro cabbage slaw with red chili oil and avocado. We washed all of these down with some very interesting beers. Mine was an "orange blossom ale" with a distinct, but delicate, orange water taste that made the beer seem almost sweet, and it had a pleasant orangy aftertaste that wasn't cloying or overpowering at all.
While we waited for our entrees, a pleasant young woman was bright magenta hair surprised us when she rolled a cart up to the table an announced she was there to make our salads. Turns out the salad course came with the entrees. She started with a base of assorted young greens in a citrusy vinaigrette (a salute to the restaurant's name??), then asked if we wanted any gorgonzola crumbles, dried cranberries, pecans, or orange wedges. The combination of all made quite a nice salad.
There were so many intriging entrees it had been hard for us to choose just four. Our vegetarian almost got the eggplant ratatouille, but chose the angel hair pasta instead. He seemed to like it, but I noted that it came with a rather thin garlicky balsamic vinegar sauce in great quantity which I'm not so sure I personally would have liked. One guy got the panko-breaded pork chop, another of the house specialties. "Panko" is the word for a special kind of Japanese bread crumbs. That dish came with mashed potatoes and a cranberry-orange chutney, and when queried about the entree, his considered analysis of the dish was that it was "good." I love verbose attorneys. The other guy selected the ahi tuna, which was seared on the grill with fresh cilantro, then served on a bed of lime-scented pearl couscous and topped with quite a lot of the tomato-pineapple pico de gallo. He said the tuna itself was very good, but it was rather overpowered by the pico de gallo.
I had a harder time picking a main course. There was a filet mignon topped with gorgonzola cheese with roasted sweet potatoes that looked yummy at another table. Osso bucco--one of my favorites--was also on the menu. I finally decided upon the domestic lamb shank. After all, the Navajo Indian Reservation takes up a huge block of the northeastern corner of Arizona, and sheep is what the Navajos herd. It was a fabulous choice. An absolutely enormous lamb shank had been wrapped in grape leaves and braised in a Syrah wine and tomato sauce. The lamb was fork-tender, juicy, and full of flavor, and clearly it was lamb rather than the "young sheep" that so many places try to sneak in. The lamb rested on a plate full of fusilli (corkscrew) pasta cooked to a perfect al dente that had been tossed in a delicious cream sauce with goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, fennel (adding an interesting crunch and a faint anise taste), and artichoke hearts with a grape and feta cheese relish on top. I was totally stuffed, but the pasta was so good, I forced myself to eat every last piece.
Regretfully, none of us ordered dessert. I thought maybe we'd get one single dessert to split four ways, but everyone was too full to commit to the decision. I think all of us were still a bit jet-lagged, too (at this point, our bodies thought it was after midnight).
Everyone said Zest is a place they'll try again on future trips to Phoenix. I'll give Zest four stars.
Zest is a dark but very open restaurant with the kitchen fully open to the main dining room and a bar by the main entry. The walls were covered by a temporary display of striking neo-Dadaistic art by a local painter. The menu is surprisingly simple, with just one page of appetizers and one page of entrees, and that was it.
Two of us ended up ordering appetizers, but everyone shared. One of the dishes was the house specialty, an eggplant cheesecake, a tender, cheesy, custardy dish served on a pool of roasted garlic tomato sauce. The other dish was the grilled scallops, with the scallops dusted in Jamaican "jerk" seasonings before being seared on the grill. While I like seared seafood, those who prefer their food thoroughly cooked may wish to specify that to the kitchen ahead of time. The scallops came with a tomatillo chipotle tartar sauce (tasty!) and a cilantro cabbage slaw with red chili oil and avocado. We washed all of these down with some very interesting beers. Mine was an "orange blossom ale" with a distinct, but delicate, orange water taste that made the beer seem almost sweet, and it had a pleasant orangy aftertaste that wasn't cloying or overpowering at all.
While we waited for our entrees, a pleasant young woman was bright magenta hair surprised us when she rolled a cart up to the table an announced she was there to make our salads. Turns out the salad course came with the entrees. She started with a base of assorted young greens in a citrusy vinaigrette (a salute to the restaurant's name??), then asked if we wanted any gorgonzola crumbles, dried cranberries, pecans, or orange wedges. The combination of all made quite a nice salad.
There were so many intriging entrees it had been hard for us to choose just four. Our vegetarian almost got the eggplant ratatouille, but chose the angel hair pasta instead. He seemed to like it, but I noted that it came with a rather thin garlicky balsamic vinegar sauce in great quantity which I'm not so sure I personally would have liked. One guy got the panko-breaded pork chop, another of the house specialties. "Panko" is the word for a special kind of Japanese bread crumbs. That dish came with mashed potatoes and a cranberry-orange chutney, and when queried about the entree, his considered analysis of the dish was that it was "good." I love verbose attorneys. The other guy selected the ahi tuna, which was seared on the grill with fresh cilantro, then served on a bed of lime-scented pearl couscous and topped with quite a lot of the tomato-pineapple pico de gallo. He said the tuna itself was very good, but it was rather overpowered by the pico de gallo.
I had a harder time picking a main course. There was a filet mignon topped with gorgonzola cheese with roasted sweet potatoes that looked yummy at another table. Osso bucco--one of my favorites--was also on the menu. I finally decided upon the domestic lamb shank. After all, the Navajo Indian Reservation takes up a huge block of the northeastern corner of Arizona, and sheep is what the Navajos herd. It was a fabulous choice. An absolutely enormous lamb shank had been wrapped in grape leaves and braised in a Syrah wine and tomato sauce. The lamb was fork-tender, juicy, and full of flavor, and clearly it was lamb rather than the "young sheep" that so many places try to sneak in. The lamb rested on a plate full of fusilli (corkscrew) pasta cooked to a perfect al dente that had been tossed in a delicious cream sauce with goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, fennel (adding an interesting crunch and a faint anise taste), and artichoke hearts with a grape and feta cheese relish on top. I was totally stuffed, but the pasta was so good, I forced myself to eat every last piece.
Regretfully, none of us ordered dessert. I thought maybe we'd get one single dessert to split four ways, but everyone was too full to commit to the decision. I think all of us were still a bit jet-lagged, too (at this point, our bodies thought it was after midnight).
Everyone said Zest is a place they'll try again on future trips to Phoenix. I'll give Zest four stars.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Durant's, Phoenix, AZ
Durant's is one of those old steakhouses, much like old steakhouses all over the country, that has been a fixture in downtown Phoenix for decades, and that is where we headed for dinner tonight. It was a trip back in time, as we were greeted by a gaggle of tuxedoed waiters and a flock of bar waitresses with their hair up and with a frilly apron over their clothes. The mezzalunar banquettes were upholstered in a deep red vinyl that almost matched the red flocked wallpaper. We half expected to hear a Rat Packer start crooning.
Our meal started with "Durant's Debris," a dreadful name for a delicious starter of small tips and pieces of beef marinated and broiled on a skewer. They were quite tender and tasty, and several of them would have made a fine meal. After a salad course of iceberg wedges and cherry tomatoes topped with a very chunky Roquefort dressing, we got to our main courses. I had a thick ribeye steak with garlic mashed potatoes and my dinner companion had the chicken "Oscar" (quotation marks were the restaurant's), which was a grilled chicken breast topped with a layer of grilled asparagus spears, then a layer of melted provolone cheese, and then a layer of grilled shrimp. We also shared a side dish of mixed sauteed mushrooms.
With barely room for more food, we decided to split something and ordered a strawberry shortcake. It's a good thing we were splitting, cause as it was, we only ended up eating about two-thirds of it. It wasn't that we didn't like it, it was just unconscionably huge! This tower of dessert had three big rounds of shortbread in graduated sizes with full serving quantities of strawberries and whipped cream in between each layer and on top. I do believe that this tower must have stood nine to ten inches tall!
Our meal started with "Durant's Debris," a dreadful name for a delicious starter of small tips and pieces of beef marinated and broiled on a skewer. They were quite tender and tasty, and several of them would have made a fine meal. After a salad course of iceberg wedges and cherry tomatoes topped with a very chunky Roquefort dressing, we got to our main courses. I had a thick ribeye steak with garlic mashed potatoes and my dinner companion had the chicken "Oscar" (quotation marks were the restaurant's), which was a grilled chicken breast topped with a layer of grilled asparagus spears, then a layer of melted provolone cheese, and then a layer of grilled shrimp. We also shared a side dish of mixed sauteed mushrooms.
With barely room for more food, we decided to split something and ordered a strawberry shortcake. It's a good thing we were splitting, cause as it was, we only ended up eating about two-thirds of it. It wasn't that we didn't like it, it was just unconscionably huge! This tower of dessert had three big rounds of shortbread in graduated sizes with full serving quantities of strawberries and whipped cream in between each layer and on top. I do believe that this tower must have stood nine to ten inches tall!
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Mezcal, Phoenix, AZ
Mezcal is touted as one of the "Five new restaurants not to forget about" by The Arizona Republic, Phoenix's main daily newspaper. Mezcal is nestled on the edge of Kierland Commons, a shopping center filled with very expensive stores and other restaurants. The restaurant has a very modern look to it, with sleek lines and darker desert colors. Art on the walls is large, simple, abstract, and limited. Mini-halogen spotlights float around the room on exposed wire tracks. In the center of the room, a huge spiral staircase goes around a series of large, rough-hewn lodge poles to Cobalt, Mezcal's bar. Cobalt targets a younger demographic and features a pianist after restaurant hours. Meanwhile, I noticed that the background music being played on the sound system in the dining room was largely pop hits from the early 1980s.....not exactly targeting a "young" demographic!
Menu items place great emphasis on "eco-friendly" food items, from organic vegetables to line-caught fish to antibiotic-free beef. The waiter seemed a bit annoyed with me when, after his eco-friendly litany of how humanely they killed their animals, I remarked that if I wanted to be truly eco-friendly, I'd be vegan, wouldn't I? The wine list, which was heavy on the California vineyards, also included several lables using organic grapes.
Dinner looked like it was going to be a pricey undertaking (especially on a $47 per day per diem, and on our "travel day," we only get 3/4ths of that!). with most entrees falling in the mid-$20 range and everything a la carte, so I opted for the four course prix fixe "summer tasting menu" and a wine flight with three half-pours, which I let the waiter select.
For the starter, I opted for the Big Sky bruschetta instead of the chicken and brie quesadilla. The bruschetta's toast was surprisingly thick and thoroughly dried before being "rubbed" with a layer of Stilton cheese and topped with diced tomatoes, red onions, garlic, and capers in a balsamic vinegar reduction. The bruschetta was tasty, but very hard to eat due to the thickness of the toast and the quantity of topping made eating with fingers messy. The four bruschette were arranged on a large plate with a huge mound of dressed assorted field greens in the middle. This was curious, as the only available second courses were salads, rather than soups. Wine for this course was a 2003 Bonterra Viognier, from Mendocino County, California. It was a nice, full white with a lot of spiciness that stood up well to the tomatoes and Stilton, and it was probably my favorite wine of the three.
My second course was the salad of baby organic field greens and herbs with pico de gallo, queso fresco, and aged red wine vinaigrette, which I thought would be more interesting than the alternative Arizona version of a Caesar salad. The salad was huge (enough for two!) and was heavily sprinkled with little cubes of freshly made Mexican white cheese. The pico de gallo had quite a kick to it, and its jalapeño content really overpowered the accompanying wine. That wine was a 2002 Markham Merlot from Napa Valley, and it was a classic example of an insubstanial merlot that wasn't even exciting when drunk by itself but, sadly, probably very popular with the masses as a cocktail party beverage.
I was excited about my main course, the highly-talked about Mezcal paella. The alternative choice was a lime-marinated flank steak. The paella was accompanied by a 2003 Wild Horse Pinot Noir from the Central Coast of California. It was a very nice pinot noir, but this particular vintage was not sufficiently acid or tannic to compete with the full flavors and spiciness of the paella. The dish included Florida white shrimp (which were very spicy!), half a dozen Penn Cove blue mussels in the shell, Chinese scallops, Monterray Bay calamari, Maverick Ranch chorizo (also a bit spicy), roasted Maverick Ranch free range chicken, and an unusual quantity of French-style haricots verts, plus the usual herbs, onions, sweet peppers, and saffron with rice. The mound of paella was presented with a large sprig of fresh rosemary stuck in the center like a proud flag. This course was very very good, but I can't say that I was ecstatic about it.
Another thing I should probably mention is the complimentary bread provided with the meal. They served a lovely herbed foccacia that was delicious when warm, but totally nondescript when it got cold (so eat it warm—it's good). It came with an unusual sauce of tomatoes and sweet red peppers whipped into an aioli with just a touch of olive oil.
Dessert was an enormous, quadruple serving of bread pudding topped with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream and a slightly Jack Daniels-infused (I actually couldn't taste it) creme anglaise, then dusted with cinnamon. The pudding was mixed with chocolate chips that I couldn't quite tel if they were cooked in or added prior to serving, or both. It had a custardy texture with a few spots that seemed undercooked, and on the whole, I was not impressed with the dessert. I ate less than half of it, and possibly should have opted for the alternative menu dessert, a chocolate gelato.
On the whole, Mezcal is a nice restaurant with a lot of potential, but I have to say that I was just not wowwed by it. The paella was excellent, but the other courses seemed rather ordinary and the dessert was merely mediocre. Similarly, the wine list was interesting, but not terribly fabulous, or even particularly geared to the menu. Out of five stars, I would give Mezcal a 3.5.
Menu items place great emphasis on "eco-friendly" food items, from organic vegetables to line-caught fish to antibiotic-free beef. The waiter seemed a bit annoyed with me when, after his eco-friendly litany of how humanely they killed their animals, I remarked that if I wanted to be truly eco-friendly, I'd be vegan, wouldn't I? The wine list, which was heavy on the California vineyards, also included several lables using organic grapes.
Dinner looked like it was going to be a pricey undertaking (especially on a $47 per day per diem, and on our "travel day," we only get 3/4ths of that!). with most entrees falling in the mid-$20 range and everything a la carte, so I opted for the four course prix fixe "summer tasting menu" and a wine flight with three half-pours, which I let the waiter select.
For the starter, I opted for the Big Sky bruschetta instead of the chicken and brie quesadilla. The bruschetta's toast was surprisingly thick and thoroughly dried before being "rubbed" with a layer of Stilton cheese and topped with diced tomatoes, red onions, garlic, and capers in a balsamic vinegar reduction. The bruschetta was tasty, but very hard to eat due to the thickness of the toast and the quantity of topping made eating with fingers messy. The four bruschette were arranged on a large plate with a huge mound of dressed assorted field greens in the middle. This was curious, as the only available second courses were salads, rather than soups. Wine for this course was a 2003 Bonterra Viognier, from Mendocino County, California. It was a nice, full white with a lot of spiciness that stood up well to the tomatoes and Stilton, and it was probably my favorite wine of the three.
My second course was the salad of baby organic field greens and herbs with pico de gallo, queso fresco, and aged red wine vinaigrette, which I thought would be more interesting than the alternative Arizona version of a Caesar salad. The salad was huge (enough for two!) and was heavily sprinkled with little cubes of freshly made Mexican white cheese. The pico de gallo had quite a kick to it, and its jalapeño content really overpowered the accompanying wine. That wine was a 2002 Markham Merlot from Napa Valley, and it was a classic example of an insubstanial merlot that wasn't even exciting when drunk by itself but, sadly, probably very popular with the masses as a cocktail party beverage.
I was excited about my main course, the highly-talked about Mezcal paella. The alternative choice was a lime-marinated flank steak. The paella was accompanied by a 2003 Wild Horse Pinot Noir from the Central Coast of California. It was a very nice pinot noir, but this particular vintage was not sufficiently acid or tannic to compete with the full flavors and spiciness of the paella. The dish included Florida white shrimp (which were very spicy!), half a dozen Penn Cove blue mussels in the shell, Chinese scallops, Monterray Bay calamari, Maverick Ranch chorizo (also a bit spicy), roasted Maverick Ranch free range chicken, and an unusual quantity of French-style haricots verts, plus the usual herbs, onions, sweet peppers, and saffron with rice. The mound of paella was presented with a large sprig of fresh rosemary stuck in the center like a proud flag. This course was very very good, but I can't say that I was ecstatic about it.
Another thing I should probably mention is the complimentary bread provided with the meal. They served a lovely herbed foccacia that was delicious when warm, but totally nondescript when it got cold (so eat it warm—it's good). It came with an unusual sauce of tomatoes and sweet red peppers whipped into an aioli with just a touch of olive oil.
Dessert was an enormous, quadruple serving of bread pudding topped with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream and a slightly Jack Daniels-infused (I actually couldn't taste it) creme anglaise, then dusted with cinnamon. The pudding was mixed with chocolate chips that I couldn't quite tel if they were cooked in or added prior to serving, or both. It had a custardy texture with a few spots that seemed undercooked, and on the whole, I was not impressed with the dessert. I ate less than half of it, and possibly should have opted for the alternative menu dessert, a chocolate gelato.
On the whole, Mezcal is a nice restaurant with a lot of potential, but I have to say that I was just not wowwed by it. The paella was excellent, but the other courses seemed rather ordinary and the dessert was merely mediocre. Similarly, the wine list was interesting, but not terribly fabulous, or even particularly geared to the menu. Out of five stars, I would give Mezcal a 3.5.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Annie's Paramount Steakhouse, Washington, D.C.
Last night, I was going to meet a friend for dinner, but after two postponements she ultimately ended up having to cancel due to her work things, so I went ahead and went to the restaurant by myself. I was already in the neighborhood, so I'd been killing time browsing at Whole Foods. Annie's Paramount Steak House is on the 17th Street strip, and has been around over fifty years. It's in an old building, and I was seated in what is now an enclosed patio. My waiter was sort of an older, scary-looking, biker type guy with a shaved head, big moustache, tattoos, and black clothes, but once he opened his mouth to talk, he turned out to be a great big old queen who called all (male and female) his customers "Sweetie" and "Hon." All he needed was a beehive and a pink apron.
It was a steakhouse, so I stuck with the program and ordered a big ribeye with a salad and baked potato, and a big Sapphire martini to wash it down. The iceberg lettuce and tomato salad was large and basic, with the addition of a few yummy ripe black Greek olives and a pepperoncini pepper. The bleu cheese dressing was ok, but commercial. When my steak arrived on a hot hot platter, it was juicy and flavorful, but cooked a bit more than the medium rare I prefer. It was edible, nonetheless. Didn't do dessert, cause I was quite full and the stock dessert selection (cheesecake, chocolate cake, etc.) didn't inspire me.
Annie's is a good, basic place for a simple, unpretentious meal, so I'm sure I'll go back.
It was a steakhouse, so I stuck with the program and ordered a big ribeye with a salad and baked potato, and a big Sapphire martini to wash it down. The iceberg lettuce and tomato salad was large and basic, with the addition of a few yummy ripe black Greek olives and a pepperoncini pepper. The bleu cheese dressing was ok, but commercial. When my steak arrived on a hot hot platter, it was juicy and flavorful, but cooked a bit more than the medium rare I prefer. It was edible, nonetheless. Didn't do dessert, cause I was quite full and the stock dessert selection (cheesecake, chocolate cake, etc.) didn't inspire me.
Annie's is a good, basic place for a simple, unpretentious meal, so I'm sure I'll go back.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Fino Ristorante, Georgetown, D.C.
Yesterday was Leo's birthday, so we went out to Georgetown for a late night birthday supper at Fino Ristorante Italiano. I'd never heard of the place before, but it turned out to be quite a nice little place. It wasn't terribly busy, but it was nearly midnight when we got there, so I suppose the small crowd wasn't surprising. We were given the seat right by the front window, looking out over M Street. The ethnicity of the place was a bit confusing, though.....the man who looked to be the manager was Middle Eastern of some flavor or another, our waitress appeared to be Japanese, and the busboy appeared to be Central American of some type!
The manager and waitress suggested a nice Italian red wine, the name of which totally escapes me. I'm not that expert at Italian wines, anyway. We started with a calimari with marinara sauce, then a salad Caprese. The calimari was good, though the breading fell off the squid easily. I loved the Caprese salad. Fresh mozarella is always a favorite of course, and they balanced little balls of it on halves of nicely ripe red tomatoes. The fresh basil isn't in season yet, so they had basil preserved in olive oil that they drizzled around the plate under the tomatoes. They brought dishes of olive oil and balsalmic vinegar for our loaf of bread.
For our main courses, Leo had the evening's special, which was several large slices of salmon on a bed of fettucine tossed with sauteed vegetables, and I had a very tasty spaghetti alla carbonara made in the traditional style, instead of with prepared sauce poured over the pasta as I see so often these days. For dessert, we each had a piece of very good tiramisu with real masapone on espresso-soaked cake and all dusted with cocoa, We chatted a bunch with the waitress about this being a birthday dinner, but she didn't give him a candle or comp the dessert! Oh, well, it was a good dinner, nonetheless.
The manager and waitress suggested a nice Italian red wine, the name of which totally escapes me. I'm not that expert at Italian wines, anyway. We started with a calimari with marinara sauce, then a salad Caprese. The calimari was good, though the breading fell off the squid easily. I loved the Caprese salad. Fresh mozarella is always a favorite of course, and they balanced little balls of it on halves of nicely ripe red tomatoes. The fresh basil isn't in season yet, so they had basil preserved in olive oil that they drizzled around the plate under the tomatoes. They brought dishes of olive oil and balsalmic vinegar for our loaf of bread.
For our main courses, Leo had the evening's special, which was several large slices of salmon on a bed of fettucine tossed with sauteed vegetables, and I had a very tasty spaghetti alla carbonara made in the traditional style, instead of with prepared sauce poured over the pasta as I see so often these days. For dessert, we each had a piece of very good tiramisu with real masapone on espresso-soaked cake and all dusted with cocoa, We chatted a bunch with the waitress about this being a birthday dinner, but she didn't give him a candle or comp the dessert! Oh, well, it was a good dinner, nonetheless.
O'Hare Airport, Chicago, IL
I moved my flight home from 1 to 8, and changed my connections from Dallas to Chicago. Chicago was busy. Had a two hour layover there, so I got to have lunch in their food court, which was a Chicago-style deep dish pizza with "butter crust." It was ok, just not something I'd want to do every day.
La Hacienda, Albuquerque, NM
Continuing my nearly-unsuccessful quest for a Cinco de Mayo festival in Albuquerque, of all places, I headed into the Mexican restaurant on the plaza, La Hacienda, which is one of a local chain of restaurants around town and at the airport. They had all these ristras (strings of red chile peppers) hanging from the eaves by the doorways. I asked both the hostess and my waiter about Cinco de Mayo specials, and both of them gave me sort of blank stares and "huh?" reactions. They didn't even have a margarita special. I guess people in Albuquerque just don't care about Mexican holidays.
I wasn't terribly hungry, so I just got a tamale platter. They brought chips with a smokey, thin, red salsa that wasn't terribly exciting. I wasn't overwhelmingly impressed with the tamale platter, either. I thought the tamales were a bit dry and the pork flavor was obscured by very hot red peppers inside the masa. The rice and beans were ordinary, as was the little cup of guacamole. I did like their sopapillas and honey, though, since they were nice and airy instead of flat and dense.
The main problem with this restaurant was that the service was absolutely abyssmal. I had to ask twice for an iced tea refill, it took a long time to get my food, I had to ask for my guacamole when the food came, by the time the guac arrived, I was done with the meal, I waited forever for my plate to be cleared and had to ask for the check, and, since the sopapilla hadn't arrived yet (it came with the meal; otherwise, I'd have ignored it), I had to ask for it, and when the sopapilla did finally come, there was only one instead of the menu-advertised two. I got tired of waiting for the waiter to take my credit card to pay the check, so I went up to the cashier's cage myself and paid directly. And, it wasn't just my waiter who seemed derilect--the other tables with other waitresses seemed to be waiting a long time, too, and since the restaurant wasn't full, I didn't understand what was taking so long.
I wasn't terribly hungry, so I just got a tamale platter. They brought chips with a smokey, thin, red salsa that wasn't terribly exciting. I wasn't overwhelmingly impressed with the tamale platter, either. I thought the tamales were a bit dry and the pork flavor was obscured by very hot red peppers inside the masa. The rice and beans were ordinary, as was the little cup of guacamole. I did like their sopapillas and honey, though, since they were nice and airy instead of flat and dense.
The main problem with this restaurant was that the service was absolutely abyssmal. I had to ask twice for an iced tea refill, it took a long time to get my food, I had to ask for my guacamole when the food came, by the time the guac arrived, I was done with the meal, I waited forever for my plate to be cleared and had to ask for the check, and, since the sopapilla hadn't arrived yet (it came with the meal; otherwise, I'd have ignored it), I had to ask for it, and when the sopapilla did finally come, there was only one instead of the menu-advertised two. I got tired of waiting for the waiter to take my credit card to pay the check, so I went up to the cashier's cage myself and paid directly. And, it wasn't just my waiter who seemed derilect--the other tables with other waitresses seemed to be waiting a long time, too, and since the restaurant wasn't full, I didn't understand what was taking so long.
Navajo food
One of the judges at my meeting, who married a Navajo from Albuquerque, brought me a container of frozen Navajo mutton stew with Navajo corn (she called it something, but I didn't catch the word) that I stuck in the refrigerator in my room to microwave for breakfast Friday morning and eat it along with a fresh mango. Yummy breakfast. The Navajo stew was really good, and I particularly liked the corn, which the judge explained to me was steamed underground and then removed from the husks before being put into the stew. I really must get her recipe!
Harvest Cafe, Albuquerque, NM
We were wrapping up our last day of business discussions, and our group opted to go to lunch together at the Harvest Cafe at the Pueblo Indian Cultural Center. I do like that place—went there the time before last when I was in Albuquerque. We got the big corner table and all ordered our own things. I ordered things for "courses," but everything arrived all at once.
My intended "appetizer" was corn fries. These are French-fry looking things served with a green chile ranch dressing dipping sauce. They weren't potatoes, though.....they were made as though they had prepared a thick cornmeal mush, rolled it out, then cut French-fry sized pieces that were then deep fried. They were quite good, with an interesting flavor, even though it's not a "traditional" food.
Next, I had a cup of mutton stew. The mutton and vegetables were tasty and fork-tender, but I would have liked the rather thin broth to have been a bit more flavorful....this broth tasted as though it hadn't stewed long enough that morning.
My main course, though, was absolutely delicious. I had the "pueblo rellenos," an Indian version of the more familar chiles rellenos on many Mexican restaurant menus. Rather than the Mexican poblano pepper, they used a great big, traditional, New Mexico pepper called a "Big Jim," which was stuffed with cheese, then breaded in blue cornmeal and fried. Two of these big peppers were presented on a bed of red chiles which were redolent with a hearty, smoky taste and a bold but not unpleasant heat bite. Oh, my, the rellenos were so good!
Other people at the table had various things including the posole (spicy hominy and pork stew), big bowls of the mutton stew, chicken quesadilla-looking things, enchiladas in green chiles, and great big, plate-sized pieces of fry bread.
My intended "appetizer" was corn fries. These are French-fry looking things served with a green chile ranch dressing dipping sauce. They weren't potatoes, though.....they were made as though they had prepared a thick cornmeal mush, rolled it out, then cut French-fry sized pieces that were then deep fried. They were quite good, with an interesting flavor, even though it's not a "traditional" food.
Next, I had a cup of mutton stew. The mutton and vegetables were tasty and fork-tender, but I would have liked the rather thin broth to have been a bit more flavorful....this broth tasted as though it hadn't stewed long enough that morning.
My main course, though, was absolutely delicious. I had the "pueblo rellenos," an Indian version of the more familar chiles rellenos on many Mexican restaurant menus. Rather than the Mexican poblano pepper, they used a great big, traditional, New Mexico pepper called a "Big Jim," which was stuffed with cheese, then breaded in blue cornmeal and fried. Two of these big peppers were presented on a bed of red chiles which were redolent with a hearty, smoky taste and a bold but not unpleasant heat bite. Oh, my, the rellenos were so good!
Other people at the table had various things including the posole (spicy hominy and pork stew), big bowls of the mutton stew, chicken quesadilla-looking things, enchiladas in green chiles, and great big, plate-sized pieces of fry bread.
Orchid Thai, Albuquerque, NM
Another business trip. By the time I got my luggage and then rented a car at the airport, it was nearly 9 p.m. Albuquerque time, 11 p.m. Washington time. Nevertheless, one of my Albuquerque friends and I went to dinner at Orchid Thai Cuisine on Central Avenue east of the university. My friend is vegetarian, so that kind of limited our options, but Thai places are good eateries for vegetarian foods, since they understand the concepts. In fact, one of the things he ordered, the waitress warned him that it had egg in it, and that's not something the typical American restaurant would have done.
We started with fried tofu for our appetizer. They used firm tofu, cut into long strips, that was then deep fried to a light exterior crunchiness and served with a spicy peanut dipping sauce that was actually quite good. For our main course, we shared gaeng jued woon sen tofu, which was a soup with silver noodles, tofu, mushrooms, baby corn, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, and green onion, and gaeng keow wan goong, a green curry with tofu, bamboo shoots, bell pepper, and sweet basil in coconut milk, served over white steamed rice. I loved the curry. It was fiery hot, but the flavor was addictive, and I kept eating more and more!
All of our dishes were presented very artistically and garnished with edible orchids. For dessert, we split a mango ice cream on sticky rice. I liked this restaurant. The food was good, it had just enough Thai art to get the theme across without being kitschy, and the wait staff was pleasant, helpful, and very attentive. If I can find it again, it might be a fun place to go again on a future Albuquerque trip.
We started with fried tofu for our appetizer. They used firm tofu, cut into long strips, that was then deep fried to a light exterior crunchiness and served with a spicy peanut dipping sauce that was actually quite good. For our main course, we shared gaeng jued woon sen tofu, which was a soup with silver noodles, tofu, mushrooms, baby corn, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, and green onion, and gaeng keow wan goong, a green curry with tofu, bamboo shoots, bell pepper, and sweet basil in coconut milk, served over white steamed rice. I loved the curry. It was fiery hot, but the flavor was addictive, and I kept eating more and more!
All of our dishes were presented very artistically and garnished with edible orchids. For dessert, we split a mango ice cream on sticky rice. I liked this restaurant. The food was good, it had just enough Thai art to get the theme across without being kitschy, and the wait staff was pleasant, helpful, and very attentive. If I can find it again, it might be a fun place to go again on a future Albuquerque trip.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Chopsticks, Washington, D.C.
After Leo called me like six times tonight, he succeeded in dragging me away from the office about sevenish and taking me to dinner in Chinatown. He said he was feeling bad for me after the less-than-fabulous experience Joseph and I had last night at Nirvana (and Leo's family is Buddhist, too, even though he went to a Catholic school). The bus that runs right by my office building also goes to Chinatown, so we took that. Chinatown is fun, and most all of the restaurants and businesses have their window signs written both in English and in Chinese, even places like Subway sandwiches.
He wanted to go to a place called Chopsticks Restaurant, a very unassuming place that looked much like a neighborhood cafe or diner, instead of the faux-elegance of so many D.C. area restaurants. As soon as we sat down, the staff immediately brought us menus, water, and a complimentary pot of hot tea. We had a charming Chinese waitress, and she and Leo chattered on endlessly in Cantonese.
I told Leo to order us some authentically Chinese food, so he consulted with the waitress and ordered an interesting combination of whole fish, a pork hot pot, a big plate of ong choy, and white rice. The first thing to arrive was the ong choy. Ong choy--"water spinach"--is a popular Chinese vegetable dish which is sauteed with garlic. The plant is much bigger than the American style spinach we know, and Leo only knew it by it's Chinese name, and kept calling it water vegetable. About the same time, the hot pot arrived. There were chunks and slices of rich, fatty pork in what I can best describe as a not-too-sweet barbecue sauce, with some onion-like vegetable and other things I couldn't quite identify. It was served over the white rice and was a pleasant enough dish. The starring dish for the meal, though, had to be the fish.
The kitchen took an entire whole flounder, which was over two feet long, and cut the bulk of the meat off the carcass and stir-fried it lightly in a wok with nice mushrooms and several different types of crunchy vegetables like celery, carrot slices, and snow peas. Meanwhile, they took the remaining carcass and deep fried it. The fried carcass was arranged on the serving plate, and the vegetables and fish pieces were artfully arranged on top of the bones. A woman who must have been a manager or an owner came out with the fish to present it to the table, and insisted on immediately serving it to us while it was still hot. So, she dished up big servings of the fish and vegetable combination, but she didn't stop there. She then began to cut out pieces of the deep fried bones, and served large pieces to us, placing them atop the stir-fried portion. She insisted we eat it now, before it got cold and "not crispy." Yeah, fried bones. Well, I tried it, and it was actually pretty tasty. Nice crunch to it.
So, we had a nice meal, and there was so much food, there was way too much for just two people. Re-enter the manager/owner lady......there was still fish left over on the platter, and she insisted on serving the last of the fish, cutting up the last of the bones, and serving those, too, and I do believe that she wouldn't have taken no for an answer! So, she mounded up our plates again, and we had to make a bit of an effort to eat more so she wouldn't be insulted. Leo tells me that in Chinese culture, it's very rude to waste food when one is a guest at someone's home.....of course, in China, they generally have smaller servings! He said she was just being a "Chinese mother." Nonetheless, I kinda liked this place, and I hope we go back again some day.
He wanted to go to a place called Chopsticks Restaurant, a very unassuming place that looked much like a neighborhood cafe or diner, instead of the faux-elegance of so many D.C. area restaurants. As soon as we sat down, the staff immediately brought us menus, water, and a complimentary pot of hot tea. We had a charming Chinese waitress, and she and Leo chattered on endlessly in Cantonese.
I told Leo to order us some authentically Chinese food, so he consulted with the waitress and ordered an interesting combination of whole fish, a pork hot pot, a big plate of ong choy, and white rice. The first thing to arrive was the ong choy. Ong choy--"water spinach"--is a popular Chinese vegetable dish which is sauteed with garlic. The plant is much bigger than the American style spinach we know, and Leo only knew it by it's Chinese name, and kept calling it water vegetable. About the same time, the hot pot arrived. There were chunks and slices of rich, fatty pork in what I can best describe as a not-too-sweet barbecue sauce, with some onion-like vegetable and other things I couldn't quite identify. It was served over the white rice and was a pleasant enough dish. The starring dish for the meal, though, had to be the fish.
The kitchen took an entire whole flounder, which was over two feet long, and cut the bulk of the meat off the carcass and stir-fried it lightly in a wok with nice mushrooms and several different types of crunchy vegetables like celery, carrot slices, and snow peas. Meanwhile, they took the remaining carcass and deep fried it. The fried carcass was arranged on the serving plate, and the vegetables and fish pieces were artfully arranged on top of the bones. A woman who must have been a manager or an owner came out with the fish to present it to the table, and insisted on immediately serving it to us while it was still hot. So, she dished up big servings of the fish and vegetable combination, but she didn't stop there. She then began to cut out pieces of the deep fried bones, and served large pieces to us, placing them atop the stir-fried portion. She insisted we eat it now, before it got cold and "not crispy." Yeah, fried bones. Well, I tried it, and it was actually pretty tasty. Nice crunch to it.
So, we had a nice meal, and there was so much food, there was way too much for just two people. Re-enter the manager/owner lady......there was still fish left over on the platter, and she insisted on serving the last of the fish, cutting up the last of the bones, and serving those, too, and I do believe that she wouldn't have taken no for an answer! So, she mounded up our plates again, and we had to make a bit of an effort to eat more so she wouldn't be insulted. Leo tells me that in Chinese culture, it's very rude to waste food when one is a guest at someone's home.....of course, in China, they generally have smaller servings! He said she was just being a "Chinese mother." Nonetheless, I kinda liked this place, and I hope we go back again some day.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Nirvana, Washington, D.C.
Twas a little after 8 o'clock this evening when my good friend Joseph (a/k/a Joe-Bob) rang me on my cell to insist that I leave the office immediately and join him for dinner. So, realizing that my current project was going to take several more hours to complete, I acquiesced and shut down for the evening. We were going to meet north of the White House, since he works east of the White House and I work southwest, but it was after seven, so I had to walk the two blocks to the other end of the building and go out the C Street door, then walk up the two blocks again to get back to my end of the building, and we ended up meeting at 18th and H. We had no clue what to eat tonight and ended up walking down the K Street corridor ("downtown" is booming at lunch, but rather dead at night) until we found Nirvana, a vegetarian Indian restaurant. Neither of us previously had dined at Nirvana, but it is frequently mentioned in tour books, so we decided to try it out.
As soon as we were shown to our tables, the waiter wanted our drink orders before we were even seated. Nothing like eager service, eh? The restaurant decor was rather plain, with very little ethnic design. The tables had colorful designs under the glass tops, which might arguably have been madras designs, but that was about it. A bar was the centerpiece of the room, and it looked pretty much like any other restaurant.
I rather got a kick out of the menu. "Nirvana", of course, is the Buddhist religious philosophy wherein one attains "supreme enlightenment," and thus ends the anguish of the continuous cycle of death and rebirth. One reaches nirvana via the Eightfold Path: 1) Right Views; 2) Right Intention; 3) Right Speech; 4) Right Conduct; 5) Right Livelihood; 6) Right Effort; 7) Right Mindfulness; and 8) Right Contemplation (forgive the lecture--it's the humanities professor in me). Nirvana the restaurant's menu was divided into eight categories, all named Right Something, such as "Right Nectar" for the page of beverages and "Right Beginnings" for the appetizers. Okay, I know, kinda nerdy, but I thought it was funny nonetheless.
Anyway, before we could get through the rather lengthy all-vegetarian menu and before our drinks had arrived, another waiter was by rather insistently to take our orders, and seemed impatient that we had not yet read our menus. It was an unusual menu.....several things I'm used to eating at Indian restaurants either were not there or were named differently. Joe-Bob ended up ordering the vegetable biryani (rice with vegetables and nuts) and I ordered the palak paneer, a dish which seemed in the menu description to be very similar to the saag paneer I often order at Indian restaurants, which is a spinach dish with chunks of farmer cheese.
We ordered the mana mani for an appetizer, which turned out to be two very very long hot green peppers (the menu said banana peppers, but these were not banana peppers) which were stuffed with a legume and spice mixture, then battered and deep fried, and served with a sweet tamarind sauce. I actually liked mine, and it reminded me somewhat of Mexican chiles rellenos. We forgot to order a bread, and in retrospect, I was rather surprised the waiter didn't suggest a bread, since the traditional way of eating Indian food involves tearing off pieces of bread and using them to grasp food and convey the food to the mouth (no silverware).
The peppers were served on thin round aluminum plates. When they were cleared away, the waiter brought very large round aluminum plates for our dinner plates--no china or stoneware. The food had just arrived at the table, when the lights were turned up! Now, it was only 9 o'clock, and there were at least four other tables in the restaurant, some of which were getting food around the same time we were, so I thought the lights a rather rudely abrupt act of management, if that was the way they were encouraging people to eat faster so they could close up. Joe-Bob didn't tell me how his vegetable biryani was, but it looked a little gummy to me. My palak panner was okay, but I missed the creamy richness of my usual saag paneer. I attributed the "thinness" to the vegetarian spirit of the restaurant, though skimping on the cream seems a little odd with chunks of cheese in a dish if a place is trying to be vegan.
We ordered dessert, but the waiter came back to announce that the kitchen was closed. They didn't even offer kheer (rice pudding) which was no doubt sitting in their refrigerator or kulfi (ice cream) which was no doubt in their freezer, neither of which required any cooking or real preparation other than spooning it into a dish. At the same time we ordered dessert, Joe-Bob asked for a refill on his Sprite, but now that I think about it, it never came.
As soon as we paid the check, a waiter came and whisked it off the table instead of waiting for us to leave. I was also a bit annoyed that they charged me for a refill on my chai. Meanwhile, another waiter came by our table and two others to announce that they were closing (as if we couldn't tell). So, we left, and I noticed that one of the remaining tables with six people still had food on the table.
So much for peace and nirvana with all the rush. I also noticed a bit of discord between several of the waiters at various points in the evening, which is never good form when it breaks forth in the presence of customers. I suppose the food was okay at this restaurant, but the surly, rushed service certainly left a bad taste in my mouth, and I doubt I seek nirvana again at Nirvana.
As soon as we were shown to our tables, the waiter wanted our drink orders before we were even seated. Nothing like eager service, eh? The restaurant decor was rather plain, with very little ethnic design. The tables had colorful designs under the glass tops, which might arguably have been madras designs, but that was about it. A bar was the centerpiece of the room, and it looked pretty much like any other restaurant.
I rather got a kick out of the menu. "Nirvana", of course, is the Buddhist religious philosophy wherein one attains "supreme enlightenment," and thus ends the anguish of the continuous cycle of death and rebirth. One reaches nirvana via the Eightfold Path: 1) Right Views; 2) Right Intention; 3) Right Speech; 4) Right Conduct; 5) Right Livelihood; 6) Right Effort; 7) Right Mindfulness; and 8) Right Contemplation (forgive the lecture--it's the humanities professor in me). Nirvana the restaurant's menu was divided into eight categories, all named Right Something, such as "Right Nectar" for the page of beverages and "Right Beginnings" for the appetizers. Okay, I know, kinda nerdy, but I thought it was funny nonetheless.
Anyway, before we could get through the rather lengthy all-vegetarian menu and before our drinks had arrived, another waiter was by rather insistently to take our orders, and seemed impatient that we had not yet read our menus. It was an unusual menu.....several things I'm used to eating at Indian restaurants either were not there or were named differently. Joe-Bob ended up ordering the vegetable biryani (rice with vegetables and nuts) and I ordered the palak paneer, a dish which seemed in the menu description to be very similar to the saag paneer I often order at Indian restaurants, which is a spinach dish with chunks of farmer cheese.
We ordered the mana mani for an appetizer, which turned out to be two very very long hot green peppers (the menu said banana peppers, but these were not banana peppers) which were stuffed with a legume and spice mixture, then battered and deep fried, and served with a sweet tamarind sauce. I actually liked mine, and it reminded me somewhat of Mexican chiles rellenos. We forgot to order a bread, and in retrospect, I was rather surprised the waiter didn't suggest a bread, since the traditional way of eating Indian food involves tearing off pieces of bread and using them to grasp food and convey the food to the mouth (no silverware).
The peppers were served on thin round aluminum plates. When they were cleared away, the waiter brought very large round aluminum plates for our dinner plates--no china or stoneware. The food had just arrived at the table, when the lights were turned up! Now, it was only 9 o'clock, and there were at least four other tables in the restaurant, some of which were getting food around the same time we were, so I thought the lights a rather rudely abrupt act of management, if that was the way they were encouraging people to eat faster so they could close up. Joe-Bob didn't tell me how his vegetable biryani was, but it looked a little gummy to me. My palak panner was okay, but I missed the creamy richness of my usual saag paneer. I attributed the "thinness" to the vegetarian spirit of the restaurant, though skimping on the cream seems a little odd with chunks of cheese in a dish if a place is trying to be vegan.
We ordered dessert, but the waiter came back to announce that the kitchen was closed. They didn't even offer kheer (rice pudding) which was no doubt sitting in their refrigerator or kulfi (ice cream) which was no doubt in their freezer, neither of which required any cooking or real preparation other than spooning it into a dish. At the same time we ordered dessert, Joe-Bob asked for a refill on his Sprite, but now that I think about it, it never came.
As soon as we paid the check, a waiter came and whisked it off the table instead of waiting for us to leave. I was also a bit annoyed that they charged me for a refill on my chai. Meanwhile, another waiter came by our table and two others to announce that they were closing (as if we couldn't tell). So, we left, and I noticed that one of the remaining tables with six people still had food on the table.
So much for peace and nirvana with all the rush. I also noticed a bit of discord between several of the waiters at various points in the evening, which is never good form when it breaks forth in the presence of customers. I suppose the food was okay at this restaurant, but the surly, rushed service certainly left a bad taste in my mouth, and I doubt I seek nirvana again at Nirvana.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Cafe Deluxe, Washington, D.C.
While we were in the neighborhood of the National Cathedral, three of us wandered over to a little cafe across the street where Laura Bush sometimes lunches called Cafe Deluxe, and it seems quite a few others from the service had the same idea.
Leo had the fire-roasted tomato bisque and the chicken and cheese quesadillas. Michael had a hamburger and fries. In honor of Passover, I had the lamb and goat cheese sandwich and fries. My sandwich was good, and would have been even tastier without the roasted red bell pepper on it, which was a bit overpowering until I pulled it off.
For dessert, Leo had a hot fudge and caramel chocolate brownie sundae, Michael the creme brulee (which he didn't like), and I ordered a blueberry cobbler. My cobbler was one of the most unusual presentations of cobbler I've seen in a long time, being served as an individual pie with very thick, almost cookie-like, sweet pate sucree pastry and the blueberries were such an interesting color and shape and taste I would have sworn that they were canned peaches.
It was a fun little cafe, though the service was very slow. Perhaps they were not anticipating a Sunday evening rush from the cathedral....but they've been there long enough, I can't believe it was a total surprise.
Leo had the fire-roasted tomato bisque and the chicken and cheese quesadillas. Michael had a hamburger and fries. In honor of Passover, I had the lamb and goat cheese sandwich and fries. My sandwich was good, and would have been even tastier without the roasted red bell pepper on it, which was a bit overpowering until I pulled it off.
For dessert, Leo had a hot fudge and caramel chocolate brownie sundae, Michael the creme brulee (which he didn't like), and I ordered a blueberry cobbler. My cobbler was one of the most unusual presentations of cobbler I've seen in a long time, being served as an individual pie with very thick, almost cookie-like, sweet pate sucree pastry and the blueberries were such an interesting color and shape and taste I would have sworn that they were canned peaches.
It was a fun little cafe, though the service was very slow. Perhaps they were not anticipating a Sunday evening rush from the cathedral....but they've been there long enough, I can't believe it was a total surprise.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Gravy
Cultural geographers should pay more attention to gravy.
We have a love-hate relationship with gravy. There's nothing better than a steaming hot, fresh, chicken-fried steak drenched in gravy. And, where would Thanksgiving be without gallons of giblet gravy to drown the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes? Thick or thin, brown or white, it's all good. Yet, if you go to a snooty cafe or bistro, they don't serve gravy. Just sauce. Breakfast of fried eggs, fried ham, and red eye gravy becomes eggs with ham au jus. The beef tenderloin comes with a red wine reduction. That rolled pork roast doesn't have gravy, it has a thin puree of root vegetables served as a sauce. Veal t-bone goes with demiglace. Chicken will have a veloute sauce, or some fancy-named variation thereof (in a French kitchen, the milk gravy on my mother's fried chicken would be a classic "Sauce Supreme").
When I was in high school, we used to order French fries with brown gravy at lunch. Yum. I'm old enough that our gravy was actually made fresh by the school cooks every morning—they didn't just open a can. There's also an old, classic diner in my hometown famous for its "hot hamburgers"—a wonderfully decadent concoction with a couple of slices of toast topped by an enormous hamburger steak topped with grilled onions topped with brown gravy topped with a mound of great big French fries. And even to the present day, when I go spend the weekend with my family at some Indian pow-wow, the main course for dinner one night is sure to be "meat gravy", a nice thick gravy with a few bits of crumbled up meat served with whatever starch is available that day, perhaps potatoes, perhaps rice, and usually also available will be big, plate-sized pieces of Indian fried bread. At home with my parents, my father will often ignore the steak on the table, butter a slice of bread, lay it flat on his plate, and cover it with steak gravy.
But we can't get gravy at a nice restaurant. And the dieticians admonish us to leave the gravy off the meat.
During one formal dinner my sophomore year of college, my wise fraternity "pledge grandfather," who was destined to be Outstanding Senior Man of the University, explained to me the geographic differences of gravy use. He said that when you go back to the northeast Yankee part of the country, meat is served with just a little dollop of gravy. In the midwest, they serve about a spoonful of gravy on the meat. But here in the South, we have a little meat with our gravy!
Where did gravy come from? Sometimes I think it's a rather uniquely American thing. They don't have gravy in Mexico--melted cheese doesn't count! Asians don't use gravy, no doubt because it would be too hard to eat with chopsticks. I don't remember ever being served gravy when I was in school in England, although it was used in casseroles such as shepherd's pie. Italians use vegetable sauces (think tomato). Never had "gravy" in Germany, though they do occasionally use a little sauce. And France--need we ask?
Now I'm hungry. Anybody wanna go out for steak and gravy?
We have a love-hate relationship with gravy. There's nothing better than a steaming hot, fresh, chicken-fried steak drenched in gravy. And, where would Thanksgiving be without gallons of giblet gravy to drown the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes? Thick or thin, brown or white, it's all good. Yet, if you go to a snooty cafe or bistro, they don't serve gravy. Just sauce. Breakfast of fried eggs, fried ham, and red eye gravy becomes eggs with ham au jus. The beef tenderloin comes with a red wine reduction. That rolled pork roast doesn't have gravy, it has a thin puree of root vegetables served as a sauce. Veal t-bone goes with demiglace. Chicken will have a veloute sauce, or some fancy-named variation thereof (in a French kitchen, the milk gravy on my mother's fried chicken would be a classic "Sauce Supreme").
When I was in high school, we used to order French fries with brown gravy at lunch. Yum. I'm old enough that our gravy was actually made fresh by the school cooks every morning—they didn't just open a can. There's also an old, classic diner in my hometown famous for its "hot hamburgers"—a wonderfully decadent concoction with a couple of slices of toast topped by an enormous hamburger steak topped with grilled onions topped with brown gravy topped with a mound of great big French fries. And even to the present day, when I go spend the weekend with my family at some Indian pow-wow, the main course for dinner one night is sure to be "meat gravy", a nice thick gravy with a few bits of crumbled up meat served with whatever starch is available that day, perhaps potatoes, perhaps rice, and usually also available will be big, plate-sized pieces of Indian fried bread. At home with my parents, my father will often ignore the steak on the table, butter a slice of bread, lay it flat on his plate, and cover it with steak gravy.
But we can't get gravy at a nice restaurant. And the dieticians admonish us to leave the gravy off the meat.
During one formal dinner my sophomore year of college, my wise fraternity "pledge grandfather," who was destined to be Outstanding Senior Man of the University, explained to me the geographic differences of gravy use. He said that when you go back to the northeast Yankee part of the country, meat is served with just a little dollop of gravy. In the midwest, they serve about a spoonful of gravy on the meat. But here in the South, we have a little meat with our gravy!
Where did gravy come from? Sometimes I think it's a rather uniquely American thing. They don't have gravy in Mexico--melted cheese doesn't count! Asians don't use gravy, no doubt because it would be too hard to eat with chopsticks. I don't remember ever being served gravy when I was in school in England, although it was used in casseroles such as shepherd's pie. Italians use vegetable sauces (think tomato). Never had "gravy" in Germany, though they do occasionally use a little sauce. And France--need we ask?
Now I'm hungry. Anybody wanna go out for steak and gravy?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
