Had lunch today in Gallery Place at Clyde's. Robert had a craving for their "Washingtonian roast beef sandwich," so since I was in the neighborhood having been at the federal courthouse all morning, I agreed to come along.
Now, I'm craving potato salad.
Robert's sandwich was a large thing with thinly sliced roast beef with cream cheese and red onions on toasted pumpernickel bread served with creamed horseradish sauce. It came with a side dish of some absolutely delicious looking salad of new red potatoes, and potato salad has been on my mind ever since.
I started with their Maryland crab soup, since we're cooking a crab chowder on Monday and Robert and I wanted to sample their version. It was okay, with a bit of a pepper bite (probably Old Bay Seasoning) in a thin, tomato-based broth. For my main course, I had their steakhouse salad, a nice entree salad with romaine, vegetables, feta cheese, and hot slices of grilled sirloin, in their steakhouse dressing. For dessert, thinking Robert was going to share, I got the peach cobbler, but he decided he didn't want any dessert. Probably just as well, though, since I thought the cobbler was especially mediocre. It was actually tough!
Now I'm hungry. Haven't had dinner yet. But, I'll be stuck here in front of the television watching the end of the Republican convention before I can venture out to forage for food. I wonder if anyone will have potato salad at midnight?
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Mr. Henry's Victorian Pub, Washington, D.C.
After going to the National Symphony's annual Labor Day concert on the Capitol lawn last night, we walked down Pennsylvania Avenue to the east and went to Mr. Henry's Victorian Pub for dinner. Mr. Henry's is a very laid back, comfortable kind of place that usually is packed with Capitol Hill staffers, but the Hill is always nearly empty in August and will stay deserted until after the Republican national convention concludes. That made it nice for us, since we could actually talk during dinner without having to shout.
We got the daily special; it being Sunday night, that meant a couple of mini-filet mignon steaks served with sliced potato "French fries" and enough lettuce and tomato slice garnish to constitute a small salad. Their daily specials are only $10.95. The little filets came with a tiny cup of creamed horseradish sauce and were delicious. I also ordered a little side salad with my dinner, primarily to get a taste of their famous pepper parmesan dressing.
Our waiter was very attentive, but, if his shorts had been any tighter, he would have had to have painted them on! I'm glad he didn't drop anything, because I'm sure those shorts would have ripped if he had had to bend over.
After dinner, we Metroed back to Columbia Heights after a very enjoyable night out on the town.
We got the daily special; it being Sunday night, that meant a couple of mini-filet mignon steaks served with sliced potato "French fries" and enough lettuce and tomato slice garnish to constitute a small salad. Their daily specials are only $10.95. The little filets came with a tiny cup of creamed horseradish sauce and were delicious. I also ordered a little side salad with my dinner, primarily to get a taste of their famous pepper parmesan dressing.
Our waiter was very attentive, but, if his shorts had been any tighter, he would have had to have painted them on! I'm glad he didn't drop anything, because I'm sure those shorts would have ripped if he had had to bend over.
After dinner, we Metroed back to Columbia Heights after a very enjoyable night out on the town.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
The Prime Rib, Washington, D.C.
Well, today is the last day of Restaurant Week 2008 ("restaurant month" for those that extended), and it's been a fun run. For my last special lunch, I went with my friend Peter to The Prime Rib in the West End. The Prime Rib is always a nice, elegant place to lunch, and it is the only restaurant in town that still maintains a dress code requiring gentlemen to wear both coat and tie (a couple of others require just a coat). As I've mentioned before, it's decorated in ornate blacks and golds and has a grand piano in the middle of the dining room with a pianist playing lounge music—very early 1960s.
The last time I was at The Prime Rib was actually Restaurant Week in January 2006 (I had to look it up), and the menu was virtually identical. Peter and I both started with the house salad, a very tasty chopped salad with lots of egg and bits of pepperoncini dressed with a dijon mustard-scented, mayonnaise-based house dressing.
Peter chose to pay the $4.00 upcharge to have their luncheon size prime rib for his entrée. If what he got was "luncheon size," I'd hate to see what they bring for dinner! The slab of beef covered a large, oval plate. Of course, prime rib is their signature item, so it's always good. I might note that an RW-style special with the prime rib is always available here at lunch for $25.
I stuck with the RW plan and got the crab imperial. I got a good sized serving of sweet crab meat, very lightly sauced, baked in a large scallop shell. Peter and I were each both brought the same side dishes in little individual-sized au gratin casseroles, one with mashed potatoes and the other with some exceptionally delicious, bright green, lightly creamed spinach. One of the things I like about this restaurant is that they don't overwhelm their dishes with sauces and fillers. Both the crab and the spinach could have been filled with all kinds of cheap fillers, but in both cases, they used a lot of the main ingredient and let the virtues of that ingredient shine through.
For dessert, Peter got the key lime pie, and I got the crème brulée. My crème brulée was very nicely done, and I was very pleased to note the sugar crust was warm while the underlying custard was cold, so the sugar was freshly broiled (or, more likely, propane torched) immediately prior to serving.
The one service faux pas of the day occurred at dessert, when the waiter initially brought me a key lime pie (I'm certain I ordered the crème brulée at the beginning of the meal), but the problem was immediately rectified. Otherwise, the service here is formal, dignified, and efficient.
The Prime Rib is a lovely restaurant, albeit an expensive one. It's an excellent, dependable location for those special "meals to impress" or anytime one wants a big piece of meat elegantly served.
The last time I was at The Prime Rib was actually Restaurant Week in January 2006 (I had to look it up), and the menu was virtually identical. Peter and I both started with the house salad, a very tasty chopped salad with lots of egg and bits of pepperoncini dressed with a dijon mustard-scented, mayonnaise-based house dressing.
Peter chose to pay the $4.00 upcharge to have their luncheon size prime rib for his entrée. If what he got was "luncheon size," I'd hate to see what they bring for dinner! The slab of beef covered a large, oval plate. Of course, prime rib is their signature item, so it's always good. I might note that an RW-style special with the prime rib is always available here at lunch for $25.
I stuck with the RW plan and got the crab imperial. I got a good sized serving of sweet crab meat, very lightly sauced, baked in a large scallop shell. Peter and I were each both brought the same side dishes in little individual-sized au gratin casseroles, one with mashed potatoes and the other with some exceptionally delicious, bright green, lightly creamed spinach. One of the things I like about this restaurant is that they don't overwhelm their dishes with sauces and fillers. Both the crab and the spinach could have been filled with all kinds of cheap fillers, but in both cases, they used a lot of the main ingredient and let the virtues of that ingredient shine through.
For dessert, Peter got the key lime pie, and I got the crème brulée. My crème brulée was very nicely done, and I was very pleased to note the sugar crust was warm while the underlying custard was cold, so the sugar was freshly broiled (or, more likely, propane torched) immediately prior to serving.
The one service faux pas of the day occurred at dessert, when the waiter initially brought me a key lime pie (I'm certain I ordered the crème brulée at the beginning of the meal), but the problem was immediately rectified. Otherwise, the service here is formal, dignified, and efficient.
The Prime Rib is a lovely restaurant, albeit an expensive one. It's an excellent, dependable location for those special "meals to impress" or anytime one wants a big piece of meat elegantly served.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Bistro D'Oc, Washington, D.C.
Tonight my friend Scott drove down from Columbia (the Baltimore suburb, not the Missouri college town) to have an early dinner with me at Bistro d'Oc in the Penn Quarter area of town. I Metroed in from Virginia and got off at the Archives station, then nearly got engrossed in the farmers' market they were having on Eighth Street that I didn't even know was happening on Thursday evenings this summer, as I walked to our destination. But, I made it in plenty of time to meet Scott, since the restaurant does not unlock its doors until 5:30 on the dot.
We'd thought about doing a Restaurant Week dinner at one of the few remaining participants, as some of them are very good places, but that's at least a $45 per person investment just drinking tap water (wine at those kinds of places usually runs about $10 a glass, too, and would be extra). I knew, though, that Bistro d'Oc, a dependable place offering bistro-style country French cuisine from the Languedoc region of France, happened to offer a pre-theater prix fixe dinner menu with three courses and a glass of wine for just $22.95, so we went there, as that's a particularly outstanding dinner "deal" here in Washington.
So, promptly at 5:30 (to the accompaniment of neighborhood church chimes), they opened the doors and we entered as the first customers of the evening. Naturally, there was no waiting for a table! We got a lovely space in the front window with a view of Ford's Theater across the street (Scott is a professional stage and screen actor), though it got a little more interesting, since it turned out the restaurant menu was posted outside on the window right by our table, and we often looked over to find people standing there staring at the menu.
Several of the daily specials sounded wonderful, but we stuck to our discipline and got the pre-theater dinner. Scott started with the watercress soup. It was a bright kelly green hot soup and looked nice. He said it was very good, but I'm not so sure; he only ate about half of it before letting the waitress take it away. I began with the house pâté Languedoc, a nice big slice of chicken liver pâté served with cornichons, black olives, dried cherries, and a nice little fig compote. It had a hot, black peppery flavor that was unexpected, but enjoyable nonetheless.
Scott's main course was a beautiful, large slab of Norwegian salmon interestingly arranged on a bed of puréed sweet potatoes with short juliennes of carrot on the side, creating a monochromatic display of orange hues on the plate. A vivid yellow sauce—hollandaise, I would guess—garnished the top of the salmon. This dish met with greater approval, since he ate all of it. Meanwhile, I occupied myself with their free-range chicken fricasée Languedoc. I think my chicken fricasée is better, but this wasn't bad, just different. Presented in a crockery bowl, the fricasée came with broth, boiled potatoes, and green olive, while having no discernable mushrooms or cream in the sauce. The chicken, though, was classically French for a fricasée or a coq au vin, as they used the stringy "old cock" that requires long, slow, stewing to tenderize and release its flavor. Since I always use just plain old chicken from the grocery store, my chicken stews lack that complexity and element of flavor.
A couple of profiteroles floating on a pool of hot fudge sauce made up Scott's dessert, and disappeared before I was even half done with mine. I wanted to savor my choice, though, and enjoy their very custardy version of raspberry clafoutis. We broke discipline during dessert and ordered a second glass of the house white wine. I never did ask what the house wine was, but it tasted of chenin blanc and chardonnay grapes, and it seemed domestic to me, not French. Knowing how so many of the house vins ordinaires go in France, though, I'm probably completely wrong on all counts.
We had a very enjoyable dinner, and our waitress was very attentive, always, it seemed, popping up at the table whilst we conversed to check on our progress and needs.
After our repast, we walked up to Chinatown to people watch a bit before taking our respective subway trains away to be home in time to watch the Obama acceptance speech.
We'd thought about doing a Restaurant Week dinner at one of the few remaining participants, as some of them are very good places, but that's at least a $45 per person investment just drinking tap water (wine at those kinds of places usually runs about $10 a glass, too, and would be extra). I knew, though, that Bistro d'Oc, a dependable place offering bistro-style country French cuisine from the Languedoc region of France, happened to offer a pre-theater prix fixe dinner menu with three courses and a glass of wine for just $22.95, so we went there, as that's a particularly outstanding dinner "deal" here in Washington.
So, promptly at 5:30 (to the accompaniment of neighborhood church chimes), they opened the doors and we entered as the first customers of the evening. Naturally, there was no waiting for a table! We got a lovely space in the front window with a view of Ford's Theater across the street (Scott is a professional stage and screen actor), though it got a little more interesting, since it turned out the restaurant menu was posted outside on the window right by our table, and we often looked over to find people standing there staring at the menu.
Several of the daily specials sounded wonderful, but we stuck to our discipline and got the pre-theater dinner. Scott started with the watercress soup. It was a bright kelly green hot soup and looked nice. He said it was very good, but I'm not so sure; he only ate about half of it before letting the waitress take it away. I began with the house pâté Languedoc, a nice big slice of chicken liver pâté served with cornichons, black olives, dried cherries, and a nice little fig compote. It had a hot, black peppery flavor that was unexpected, but enjoyable nonetheless.
Scott's main course was a beautiful, large slab of Norwegian salmon interestingly arranged on a bed of puréed sweet potatoes with short juliennes of carrot on the side, creating a monochromatic display of orange hues on the plate. A vivid yellow sauce—hollandaise, I would guess—garnished the top of the salmon. This dish met with greater approval, since he ate all of it. Meanwhile, I occupied myself with their free-range chicken fricasée Languedoc. I think my chicken fricasée is better, but this wasn't bad, just different. Presented in a crockery bowl, the fricasée came with broth, boiled potatoes, and green olive, while having no discernable mushrooms or cream in the sauce. The chicken, though, was classically French for a fricasée or a coq au vin, as they used the stringy "old cock" that requires long, slow, stewing to tenderize and release its flavor. Since I always use just plain old chicken from the grocery store, my chicken stews lack that complexity and element of flavor.
A couple of profiteroles floating on a pool of hot fudge sauce made up Scott's dessert, and disappeared before I was even half done with mine. I wanted to savor my choice, though, and enjoy their very custardy version of raspberry clafoutis. We broke discipline during dessert and ordered a second glass of the house white wine. I never did ask what the house wine was, but it tasted of chenin blanc and chardonnay grapes, and it seemed domestic to me, not French. Knowing how so many of the house vins ordinaires go in France, though, I'm probably completely wrong on all counts.
We had a very enjoyable dinner, and our waitress was very attentive, always, it seemed, popping up at the table whilst we conversed to check on our progress and needs.
After our repast, we walked up to Chinatown to people watch a bit before taking our respective subway trains away to be home in time to watch the Obama acceptance speech.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Mio Restaurant, Washington, D.C.
Our friend Peter joined Robert and me for lunch today at Mio Restaurant downtown near McPherson Square as we begin to wrap up our Restaurant Week holdovers. Mio has been open for about a year, and they have a "Mediterranean inspired" menu of contemporary foods.
Peter liked the restaurant and the food a lot. Robert was more jaded, finding the food satisfactory, but not appreciating the decor (he called it "cookie-cutter contemporary restaurant"), and finding the service insufficiently attentive. I fell somewhere in between, though I really liked my food, and I probably have an overall positive impression of the place.
Robert and Peter ordered the same identical menus, so you won't have to look at so many food pictures (thanks, Robert, for taking the pictures during my camera's absence). They started with an unusual appetizer with no formal name, but which was an oval serving plate with toast, littleneck clams, a poached egg, and a large slice of paper-thin Serrano ham that had been flash-fried just crispy. Both of them liked it, and Robert's only complaint was that there was no salt or pepper on the table (or any of the tables, from what I could see) for him to use on his egg.
I wanted to be different, so I got the chilled beet soup with a chèvre (goat cheese) and, I think, crème fraîche blend sitting in the center of the bowl. The soup had a bright beet flavor with the chèvre adding notes of richness, making for a pleasant summer soup.
Their main course was the plancha grilled skate with white corn puree and brown butter. What looked like a big leaf of tempura basil garnished the top of the dish. Skate, of course, is a creature related to the stingray, and it has a nice, sweet, firm, white flesh that is easy to eat and remove from the bone. "Plancha" is a traditional Spanish cooking technique of grilling things on a hot metal plate. Both of them were pleased with their selection.
I, also, was pleased with mine, the Oaxacan-style "arroz con pollo"—chicken with rice—prepared with the chicken marinated with oregano and grilled separately from the rice. A little salad of watercress and curly endive topped the timbale of rice. I was a little nervous on ordering, though, as I wasn't quite sure what "Oaxacan-style" meant. Oaxaca is one of the states in the south of Mexico, and one of their distinctive local delicacies is fried grasshopper. Fortunately, that delicacy did not make an appearance today. Everything was well cooked and had a lovely flavor; a rich sauce adorned the plate tasting almost like a demiglace.
Desserts were also fun. Peter and Robert got the lime tart, a little round individual pie with a small scoop of "fresh cream" ice cream. Peter liked it, though Robert found his rather more mundane. I definitely got the best dessert, a warm circle of brownie-like chocolate cake dusted in powdered sugar with a scoop of chocolate-garnished peanut butter ice cream and a cappuccino-espresso sauce.
Peter washed down his lime tart with a big glass of milk.
And, that was our lunch. I thought it was a fun place, and I hear they do nice cocktails here at happy hour, too.
Peter liked the restaurant and the food a lot. Robert was more jaded, finding the food satisfactory, but not appreciating the decor (he called it "cookie-cutter contemporary restaurant"), and finding the service insufficiently attentive. I fell somewhere in between, though I really liked my food, and I probably have an overall positive impression of the place.
Robert and Peter ordered the same identical menus, so you won't have to look at so many food pictures (thanks, Robert, for taking the pictures during my camera's absence). They started with an unusual appetizer with no formal name, but which was an oval serving plate with toast, littleneck clams, a poached egg, and a large slice of paper-thin Serrano ham that had been flash-fried just crispy. Both of them liked it, and Robert's only complaint was that there was no salt or pepper on the table (or any of the tables, from what I could see) for him to use on his egg.
I wanted to be different, so I got the chilled beet soup with a chèvre (goat cheese) and, I think, crème fraîche blend sitting in the center of the bowl. The soup had a bright beet flavor with the chèvre adding notes of richness, making for a pleasant summer soup.
Their main course was the plancha grilled skate with white corn puree and brown butter. What looked like a big leaf of tempura basil garnished the top of the dish. Skate, of course, is a creature related to the stingray, and it has a nice, sweet, firm, white flesh that is easy to eat and remove from the bone. "Plancha" is a traditional Spanish cooking technique of grilling things on a hot metal plate. Both of them were pleased with their selection.
I, also, was pleased with mine, the Oaxacan-style "arroz con pollo"—chicken with rice—prepared with the chicken marinated with oregano and grilled separately from the rice. A little salad of watercress and curly endive topped the timbale of rice. I was a little nervous on ordering, though, as I wasn't quite sure what "Oaxacan-style" meant. Oaxaca is one of the states in the south of Mexico, and one of their distinctive local delicacies is fried grasshopper. Fortunately, that delicacy did not make an appearance today. Everything was well cooked and had a lovely flavor; a rich sauce adorned the plate tasting almost like a demiglace.
Desserts were also fun. Peter and Robert got the lime tart, a little round individual pie with a small scoop of "fresh cream" ice cream. Peter liked it, though Robert found his rather more mundane. I definitely got the best dessert, a warm circle of brownie-like chocolate cake dusted in powdered sugar with a scoop of chocolate-garnished peanut butter ice cream and a cappuccino-espresso sauce.
Peter washed down his lime tart with a big glass of milk.
And, that was our lunch. I thought it was a fun place, and I hear they do nice cocktails here at happy hour, too.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Rasika Flavors of India, Washington, D.C.
We've often heard how there are only a couple of "good" Indian restaurants in town, and the one remaining place in that very short list at which I hadn't previously eaten happened to be one of the extenders for this summer's Restaurant Week, so off we went last Thursday for lunch. Rasika Flavors of India is that place, located near the Wooly Mammoth Theater near the Archives Metro stop. Rasika likes to distinguish itself from run of the mill Indian places by offering contemporary Indian cuisine.
Inside, the restaurant is starkly contemporary, though with warm honey-colored woods and soft earth tones to complement their modern Indian paintings and sculpture. It was a busy day (we had reservations at 1:45, when it should have been a slower time) and the restaurant was bustling.....bustling rather too much, I thought, because it was very, very noisy and difficult to carry on a conversation; we often had to ask our waitress to repeat herself, since we couldn't hear her. They also pack in the tables and chairs in the space, and we had to squeeze through other diners as we moved in and out of the dining room.
Robert opened his luncheon with palak chaat, a most interesting salad made of flash-fried bits of baby spinach tossed with a little bit of minced tomato and onion and a light amount of sweet yogurt dressing with a tamarind date chutney. The frying gave things a bit of crunch, and Robert found the salad quite enjoyable.
I chose the dakshini chicken tikka, basically a curried shish kebob of chicken smoked and barbecued in a tandoor. A green sauce tasting of fennel and star anise decorated the plate. It was a rather plain selection, and they had what is all too often a common problem with tandoori foods: a few of the smaller chicken chunks were a bit dry and overcooked, while one or two of the larger chunks were not fully cooked inside—something that always worries me with chicken. Fortunately, I did not get food poisoning later that day.
Robert had a much more successful tandoori experience with his main course, a large slab of Scottish salmon spiced with cinnamon and black pepper then cooked in the tandoor. I had a tiny nibble, and it had a lovely, delicate flavor and even with my outside edge, it was not over cooked. What looked like the same sauce as I had on my chicken appetizer also decorated Robert's plate.
I picked the lamb pista korma. Their version puts ground pistachios and cashews in the cream sauce, giving it a distinct green color. It was okay, but I definitely wasn't wowwed. In fact, I found the sauce to be rather thin and soupy, and I've had better korma at "common" places in town.
For dessert, Robert got the gulab jamun (those little dough balls in honey syrup) with cardamom ice cream, primarily, he said, because he wanted to try to ice cream. He decided the dough balls were surprisingly good, though, because, he said, they were light and didn't feel like they had been soaking in syrup for days. I got the carrot halwa with cinnamon sabayon sauce, and it was the only thing in my meal that I really liked. Halwa is a north Indian dish of shredded carrots and chopped cashews sweetened and then simmered in milk and butter.
My camera has decided to hide somewhere, so when and if I should find it, I shall upload the photos of the meal.
And that was our Rasika experience. It's an okay enough place I wouldn't mind going back to eat, but it didn't meet my expectations as one of the top two or three Indian places in town. Service was okay, if not a touch slow. Food was okay, but what I got was not outstanding; I think Robert definitely got the better of the two meals, though!
Inside, the restaurant is starkly contemporary, though with warm honey-colored woods and soft earth tones to complement their modern Indian paintings and sculpture. It was a busy day (we had reservations at 1:45, when it should have been a slower time) and the restaurant was bustling.....bustling rather too much, I thought, because it was very, very noisy and difficult to carry on a conversation; we often had to ask our waitress to repeat herself, since we couldn't hear her. They also pack in the tables and chairs in the space, and we had to squeeze through other diners as we moved in and out of the dining room.
Robert opened his luncheon with palak chaat, a most interesting salad made of flash-fried bits of baby spinach tossed with a little bit of minced tomato and onion and a light amount of sweet yogurt dressing with a tamarind date chutney. The frying gave things a bit of crunch, and Robert found the salad quite enjoyable.
I chose the dakshini chicken tikka, basically a curried shish kebob of chicken smoked and barbecued in a tandoor. A green sauce tasting of fennel and star anise decorated the plate. It was a rather plain selection, and they had what is all too often a common problem with tandoori foods: a few of the smaller chicken chunks were a bit dry and overcooked, while one or two of the larger chunks were not fully cooked inside—something that always worries me with chicken. Fortunately, I did not get food poisoning later that day.
Robert had a much more successful tandoori experience with his main course, a large slab of Scottish salmon spiced with cinnamon and black pepper then cooked in the tandoor. I had a tiny nibble, and it had a lovely, delicate flavor and even with my outside edge, it was not over cooked. What looked like the same sauce as I had on my chicken appetizer also decorated Robert's plate.
I picked the lamb pista korma. Their version puts ground pistachios and cashews in the cream sauce, giving it a distinct green color. It was okay, but I definitely wasn't wowwed. In fact, I found the sauce to be rather thin and soupy, and I've had better korma at "common" places in town.
For dessert, Robert got the gulab jamun (those little dough balls in honey syrup) with cardamom ice cream, primarily, he said, because he wanted to try to ice cream. He decided the dough balls were surprisingly good, though, because, he said, they were light and didn't feel like they had been soaking in syrup for days. I got the carrot halwa with cinnamon sabayon sauce, and it was the only thing in my meal that I really liked. Halwa is a north Indian dish of shredded carrots and chopped cashews sweetened and then simmered in milk and butter.
My camera has decided to hide somewhere, so when and if I should find it, I shall upload the photos of the meal.
And that was our Rasika experience. It's an okay enough place I wouldn't mind going back to eat, but it didn't meet my expectations as one of the top two or three Indian places in town. Service was okay, if not a touch slow. Food was okay, but what I got was not outstanding; I think Robert definitely got the better of the two meals, though!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Fifty years old
Fifty years ago on August 22, 1958, the doors opened to the new Ben's Chili Bowl, a simple, unpretentious lunch counter on U Street. In the ensuing decades, Ben's has become an iconic institution in the District with an international reputation for chili, chili cheese fries, and D.C.'s traditional "half smoke" sausages.
Thursday night, they had a special star-studded gala concert hosted by none other than Bill Cosby, and earlier today at lunchtime they had a big street party with the mayor and live radio and television broadcasts. Knowing it would be crowded, we avoided the four-hour-long "party" and popped in to Ben's late this afternoon. Still, though, it was jam-packed crowded, with a line running out the door, around the block, and down the alley. Nevertheless, I managed to get inside the place for some photos and a little snack.
Happy birthday, Ben's!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Historical food help
Any early American food experts out there? I need some assistance planning a menu.
My lodge has its annual "Founders' Day" coming up next month, and I have to plan and cook suitable food for three dozen-plus people. This is a special Founders' Day, since this year is the semiquincentennial (250th anniversary, for those of you who don't do Latin) of the birth of our first master (president), James Hoban, and I'd like to do something in tribute to him.
It just so happens that Mr. Hoban is an early Washington Irish-Catholic celebrity. Born in County Kilkenny, Ireland, in 1758, then going to Dublin for architectural studies, he immigrated to the United States, first to Philadelphia about 1786, then to Charleston in 1791, then to Washington by October of the next year. What brought him to Washington? He was selected as the architect and building superintendent for the White House. Along the way, he also took over as supervising architect of the Capitol's construction, then after the War of 1812, he oversaw the restoration and reconstruction of the White House.
The lodge was founded in 1793, and Hoban stayed in Washington until his death in 1831. Nearly all the early members of the lodge were Irish and Scotsmen who were working on the White House and Capitol projects, so we've a strong Irish connection. This all gives us a broad range of menu options, with forty years of early Washington/American culinary history from which to choose.
Here's what I've got so far, with some explanation as to why I've picked it:
a common one-pot supper for Irish workers of the 1790s
Tavern Meat and Pork Pie
this recipe comes from Philadelphia, where Hoban first immigrated from Ireland
Virginia Ham with Fried Eggs
pork and ham were the predominant meat in early America
fried eggs graced the table of many dinners in the Adams and Jefferson White Houses
Cornmeal Fried Oysters
oysters from the Chesapeake Bay were cheap and commonly eaten back then
Colcannon
a traditional potato and cabbage dish from Ireland
Mushy Peas
mentioned in a 1771 Valley Forge commissary return
Bacon Spoonbread
George Washington’s favorite
Kilkenny Irish Ale
beer originally made in Hoban's county of birth
Huguenot Torte with Whipped Cream and Pecans
this apple dessert comes from Charleston, where Hoban lived before coming to Washington
Assorted Irish Whiskeys for Tasting
what would an Irish dinner be without whiskey?
Coffee
No tea. Duh!
Yes, I know that three entrées is a lot of meat, but that was the common practice back then (actually, there would have been even more!). I also thought we should do four courses (my Oxford training harping in the back of my mind! LOL), but I don't know what to fix. I'm thinking, though, that I might be able to find a cheese from County Kilkenny, and if so, we can have a cheese course or use it in some sort of amuse bouche.
Questions? Comments? Stray thoughts? Your suggestions are appreciated!
Il Mulino New York, Washington, D.C.
A few of the participating Restaurant Week establishments opt to extend their special menus for an extra week, some through the end of the month, so that gives us the chance to go a few more places this go round. One of the extending restaurants this time is Il Mulino New York, and Joel and I managed to get reservations last week for lunch there today.
Il Mulino—"the mill" in Italian—is a small, exclusive, international chain, concentrating on contemporary Italian-American-themed fine dining. It's a formal, white tablecloth kind of place (the waiters even carry table crumbers with them) with professional career waiters, a nice low noise level, and it definitely caters to the expense account crowd.
Joel started off with a glass of the house cabernet sauvignon. Interestingly, the single glasses are $10 at dinner, but only $7.50 at lunch. I perused the wine list. I got through the first page of Americanized by-the-glass things and flipped to the bottles of Italian reds.
As I looked at the prices, my first thought was, "Is this in lire?" but then I realized that the numbers were too small since the old lire were running about 1,000 to the dollar, and Italy's using euros now, anyway. They had $1,000 bottles of wine on the menu, and quite a few in the $700, $800 range. I saw a $3,000 bottle, too, but, it was actually a jeroboam (equivalent to four normal bottles). Afraid to order anything, I stuck with water for the meal.
As soon as we placed our food orders, an assistant brought us a basket of breads—including some excellent olive bread and some country wheat—and a plate of marinated eggplant, which I believe was intended as a spread on the bread. Eggplant is one of my food allergies I actually have to avoid, so I left it all to Joel to taste and consume. He said it was good, with the eggplant marinated in olive oil.
Our first courses arrived. Joel got the prosciutto è melone, both of us expecting it to be thin Italian ham slices wrapped around pieces of honeydew melon. Instead, he got a plate with many thin slices of the ham, all surrounding a little bowl with honeydew melon balls, blackberries, and raspberries. He liked the ham with the honeydew, but he commented that the prosciutto just didn't go well with the berries.
I'd started to order that same appetizer, but to be different, I got the calamari fritti. I thought it was good. It came wrapped up in a white cloth napkin with a cheesecloth-wrapped lemon half on top and a little bowl of delicious, warm, spicy, marinara sauce for dipping. The squid was cut into rings and lightly breaded, and they'd been cooked expertly. Twas quite a large serving, too—it would be good for two people to split at a larger lunch.
For his main course, Joel ordered the pasta primavera, expecting something very simple in the way of spaghetti and a fresh red sauce, but he ended up with a big, beautiful bowl of pasta topped by a plethora of just-al dente cooked fresh vegetables with mushrooms and raw tomatoes, all in very light olive oil and melted butter. When he emailed me after lunch, he wrote, "Exceptional pasta."
I got the pollo fra diabolo, or "chicken in the style of the devil." This was a nice meal of tender chicken chunks braised in a tomato-based sauce with onions and peppers, and the spicy "devil" was provided by a huge amount of Italian sausage chunks in the dish. In fact, there was more sausage than chicken! While I didn't need it, I was a little bit surprised that the chicken didn't come with any pasta, and we were both surprised that the waiters weren't going around to the tables offering grated parmesan cheese for the dishes.
For dessert, I ordered the tiramisu and Joel ordered the chocolate cake, but the waiter took it upon himself without asking first to bring us a big dessert sampler plate to share that included the tiramisu and chocolate cake, plus Italian ricotta cheesecake, coffee-scented mascarpone cheese and cream, thick zabaglione, and a couple of pirouettes, all drizzled in chocolate and lightly dusted with powdered sugar. I suppose that was fine, and Joel really liked the variety, but I would have appreciated being asked first. I didn't like the chocolate cake, as it was too dense. The tiramisu was standard. I thought the ricotta cheesecake was good. The mascarpone cream was just the stuff used in making tiramisu, so that wasn't a big deal. I really liked the zabaglione, which had a nice alcohol tingle to it.
After dessert, Joel had a double espresso (into which he dumped the entire pitcher of milk allegedly to "cool it off") and I had an espresso macchiato. I like their coffee roast, which is strong and rich without being unduly bitter.
So, that was our Il Mulino experience. It was a pleasant lunch with excellent food and top-notch, professional service. One thing I did notice is that you can get the Restaurant Week-type menu there year-round, though they charge $22.95 for it instead of the $20.08 R.W. price—still a good deal, though. The place is definitely on the "recommended" list.
Il Mulino—"the mill" in Italian—is a small, exclusive, international chain, concentrating on contemporary Italian-American-themed fine dining. It's a formal, white tablecloth kind of place (the waiters even carry table crumbers with them) with professional career waiters, a nice low noise level, and it definitely caters to the expense account crowd.
Joel started off with a glass of the house cabernet sauvignon. Interestingly, the single glasses are $10 at dinner, but only $7.50 at lunch. I perused the wine list. I got through the first page of Americanized by-the-glass things and flipped to the bottles of Italian reds.As I looked at the prices, my first thought was, "Is this in lire?" but then I realized that the numbers were too small since the old lire were running about 1,000 to the dollar, and Italy's using euros now, anyway. They had $1,000 bottles of wine on the menu, and quite a few in the $700, $800 range. I saw a $3,000 bottle, too, but, it was actually a jeroboam (equivalent to four normal bottles). Afraid to order anything, I stuck with water for the meal.
As soon as we placed our food orders, an assistant brought us a basket of breads—including some excellent olive bread and some country wheat—and a plate of marinated eggplant, which I believe was intended as a spread on the bread. Eggplant is one of my food allergies I actually have to avoid, so I left it all to Joel to taste and consume. He said it was good, with the eggplant marinated in olive oil.Our first courses arrived. Joel got the prosciutto è melone, both of us expecting it to be thin Italian ham slices wrapped around pieces of honeydew melon. Instead, he got a plate with many thin slices of the ham, all surrounding a little bowl with honeydew melon balls, blackberries, and raspberries. He liked the ham with the honeydew, but he commented that the prosciutto just didn't go well with the berries.
I'd started to order that same appetizer, but to be different, I got the calamari fritti. I thought it was good. It came wrapped up in a white cloth napkin with a cheesecloth-wrapped lemon half on top and a little bowl of delicious, warm, spicy, marinara sauce for dipping. The squid was cut into rings and lightly breaded, and they'd been cooked expertly. Twas quite a large serving, too—it would be good for two people to split at a larger lunch.
For his main course, Joel ordered the pasta primavera, expecting something very simple in the way of spaghetti and a fresh red sauce, but he ended up with a big, beautiful bowl of pasta topped by a plethora of just-al dente cooked fresh vegetables with mushrooms and raw tomatoes, all in very light olive oil and melted butter. When he emailed me after lunch, he wrote, "Exceptional pasta."
I got the pollo fra diabolo, or "chicken in the style of the devil." This was a nice meal of tender chicken chunks braised in a tomato-based sauce with onions and peppers, and the spicy "devil" was provided by a huge amount of Italian sausage chunks in the dish. In fact, there was more sausage than chicken! While I didn't need it, I was a little bit surprised that the chicken didn't come with any pasta, and we were both surprised that the waiters weren't going around to the tables offering grated parmesan cheese for the dishes.
For dessert, I ordered the tiramisu and Joel ordered the chocolate cake, but the waiter took it upon himself without asking first to bring us a big dessert sampler plate to share that included the tiramisu and chocolate cake, plus Italian ricotta cheesecake, coffee-scented mascarpone cheese and cream, thick zabaglione, and a couple of pirouettes, all drizzled in chocolate and lightly dusted with powdered sugar. I suppose that was fine, and Joel really liked the variety, but I would have appreciated being asked first. I didn't like the chocolate cake, as it was too dense. The tiramisu was standard. I thought the ricotta cheesecake was good. The mascarpone cream was just the stuff used in making tiramisu, so that wasn't a big deal. I really liked the zabaglione, which had a nice alcohol tingle to it.
After dessert, Joel had a double espresso (into which he dumped the entire pitcher of milk allegedly to "cool it off") and I had an espresso macchiato. I like their coffee roast, which is strong and rich without being unduly bitter.
So, that was our Il Mulino experience. It was a pleasant lunch with excellent food and top-notch, professional service. One thing I did notice is that you can get the Restaurant Week-type menu there year-round, though they charge $22.95 for it instead of the $20.08 R.W. price—still a good deal, though. The place is definitely on the "recommended" list.
Florida Avenue Grill, Washington, D.C.
Robert came over for dinner, but the place we'd planned to go wasn't open. It was late and we were watching the clock so we wouldn't miss the last subway train home, so, instead of wandering around looking for a fun and different restaurant that was still open, we just went to a place we knew was open, Florida Avenue Grill. Robert likes the breakfasts there.
He had the Virginia ham with fried eggs, grits, and biscuits. Looked good. I had their French toast, which turned out to be surprisingly good and nicely cooked (sometimes French toast is either undercooked or burnt). It was dusted with powdered sugar, but I put syrup on it anyway. I noticed both the ham and the French toast were fried on the grill with presses on top of them.
We also got glasses of their "famous" brewed sweet iced tea, but I can only drink two glasses of it due to all the sugar before I have to convert to straight water.
He had the Virginia ham with fried eggs, grits, and biscuits. Looked good. I had their French toast, which turned out to be surprisingly good and nicely cooked (sometimes French toast is either undercooked or burnt). It was dusted with powdered sugar, but I put syrup on it anyway. I noticed both the ham and the French toast were fried on the grill with presses on top of them.
We also got glasses of their "famous" brewed sweet iced tea, but I can only drink two glasses of it due to all the sugar before I have to convert to straight water.
Dunkin Donuts, Washington, D.C.
Remember the other day when I popped in to Dunkin Donuts for a single doughnut and got forced to eat two doughnuts instead? I won a peel-off coupon on my iced coffee for a free flatbread sandwich, so I cashed it in on my way home from Mass yesterday.
I got the "southwest chicken" version, the most expensive on the menu. It was okay, but it's not nearly as good as the turkey, cheddar, and bacon version they have. The turkey sandwich also has the virtue of being fifty calories less per serving! Dunkin Donuts continues to have the best (and the cheapest!) iced coffee from amongst all the coffee shops and chains in the neighborhood.
Monday, August 18, 2008
RedRocks Firebrick Pizzeria, Washington, D.C.
Had dinner with the neighbors at our neighborhood gourmet pizza joint, RedRocks Firebrick Pizzeria, just up the street a couple of blocks. It was an interesting evening, since they brought their 22-month-old daughter along, and also we happened to get a waiter who was on his second or third day of employment, so every time we asked a question, he had to go ask someone for the answer.
Joel, of course, started off the evening with some new beer they called "Golden Monkey." It had a pretty bottle.
James and Ian got a salad of mixed greens to split. Their daughter tried some of it, too, but she doesn't like salad if it has dressing on it.
Everyone got pizzas but me. Joel got his usual, the pizza salsiccia. Ian got a pineapple and sausage creation, and James (sharing with Julian) got a three cheese pizza, both going with the "create your own" option. I assume they were all good, since there was no left over pizza.
I got a meatball and fontina cheese sandwich. It was on a split chunk of thin, chewy, French baguette. The meatballs themselves were rather bland, but roasted red pepper on the sandwich added flavor interest.
Afterwards, James and Joel decided to brave dessert. Both of the desserts were rather unusual, and our waiter didn't really know enough about them to fully explain them, so what arrived was rather a surprise. Joel asked for the Black Forest cake. I tasted a corner, and it was a simple chocolate cake with whipped cream and cherry pie filling. James got the three berry pie, but it was quite a hybrid, seeming almost like a riccotta cheesecake in a pie shell topped with three different types of fresh berries. Both of them wanted their desserts à la mode, and our waiter made the interesting decision to bring the cake and pie with scoops of chocolate gelato!
Joel, of course, started off the evening with some new beer they called "Golden Monkey." It had a pretty bottle.
James and Ian got a salad of mixed greens to split. Their daughter tried some of it, too, but she doesn't like salad if it has dressing on it.Everyone got pizzas but me. Joel got his usual, the pizza salsiccia. Ian got a pineapple and sausage creation, and James (sharing with Julian) got a three cheese pizza, both going with the "create your own" option. I assume they were all good, since there was no left over pizza.
I got a meatball and fontina cheese sandwich. It was on a split chunk of thin, chewy, French baguette. The meatballs themselves were rather bland, but roasted red pepper on the sandwich added flavor interest.
Afterwards, James and Joel decided to brave dessert. Both of the desserts were rather unusual, and our waiter didn't really know enough about them to fully explain them, so what arrived was rather a surprise. Joel asked for the Black Forest cake. I tasted a corner, and it was a simple chocolate cake with whipped cream and cherry pie filling. James got the three berry pie, but it was quite a hybrid, seeming almost like a riccotta cheesecake in a pie shell topped with three different types of fresh berries. Both of them wanted their desserts à la mode, and our waiter made the interesting decision to bring the cake and pie with scoops of chocolate gelato!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Texas Roadhouse, Chantilly, Va.
Kevin and I were out in Virginia near Dulles Airport this morning. On our way back, we decided to stop at the Texas Roadhouse in Chantilly, Va., for lunch. It's a casual national chain, but from our choices in the area, it seemed the best option.
Kevin had a pulled pork sandwich with fries. The sandwich, I thought, was a little slim on the meat, and it was also a little short on the barbeque sauce; Kevin had to ask for a little cup of it.
While he was picking at his lunch, I got the chicken fried sirloin steak. It was good to have a proper chicken-fry for a change. The sirloin was sufficiently tender and juicy. My only criticism was that the breading made it look like the meat was two or three times bigger than it actually was in reality, but at least the breading was tasty. The steak and the accompanying mashed potatoes were covered in a nice cream gravy.
Both of us had side salads to begin.
Texas Roadhouse was actually a pretty good place to eat. Prices were reasonable and the food was as advertised (although I must confess that I did not order and try either the "rattlesnake bites" or the "road kill"). And, if your steaks aren't enough for you, they have big containers of roasted peanuts for you to shell and eat at the table.
Kevin had a pulled pork sandwich with fries. The sandwich, I thought, was a little slim on the meat, and it was also a little short on the barbeque sauce; Kevin had to ask for a little cup of it.
While he was picking at his lunch, I got the chicken fried sirloin steak. It was good to have a proper chicken-fry for a change. The sirloin was sufficiently tender and juicy. My only criticism was that the breading made it look like the meat was two or three times bigger than it actually was in reality, but at least the breading was tasty. The steak and the accompanying mashed potatoes were covered in a nice cream gravy.
Both of us had side salads to begin.
Texas Roadhouse was actually a pretty good place to eat. Prices were reasonable and the food was as advertised (although I must confess that I did not order and try either the "rattlesnake bites" or the "road kill"). And, if your steaks aren't enough for you, they have big containers of roasted peanuts for you to shell and eat at the table.
Churreria Madrid, Washington, D.C.
After our dinner the other night, we still had business to discuss and wandered into the still-open Churreria Madrid in Adams-Morgan. The kitchen was closed (that was fine, since we'd just eaten), so there was no Spanish food for us that night. The bartender was a very attractive young lady with limited English, so we listened to Peter trying to communicate to her in his butchered Español, with me occasionally piping up to correct his more egregious errors or to get him to stop talking French and get back to Spanish. They had cheap pitchers of some of the most delicious sangria! Here's a pic of Peter enjoying the pitcher.....this was before he managed to knock over and break his glass on the bar!
Nellie's Sports Bar, Washington, D.C.
Joel and I popped in to Nellie's Sports Bar down on U Street to watch the Olympics. He was getting ready to go to a concert at another bar nearby, but it was a while before that concert was set to start. Joel was drinking lagers, and I asked for a seltzer water, but the bartender somehow decided that what I wanted was vodka and seltzer. It was an odd drink, but I forced it down. I'd have used lime instead of lemon, though. Meanwhile, Joel got hungry and we ordered some quesadillas. It was chicken. It was good. It was gone before I remembered to take its picture. In fact, it was gone before the waiter got back with plates, forks, and napkins! LOLWe were joined by some friends of Joel's, who posed for Kody Pose pics. First is Glen, an old friend from back in their undergraduate days decades ago, and the second is Alvin, a D.C. friend.
Steak 'N Egg, Washington, D.C.
Not everything we do or eat during Restaurant Week is grand, glorious, or gourmet. Sometimes we go to just regular, simple places.
Robert and I popped in to Steak 'N Egg in Tenleytown, which I think is going to become one of his favorite places. He had the steak and egg platter. I had blueberry pancakes.
One of the things about Steak 'N Egg is that one sits at a counter right by the grill where the cook prepares the food. We were there a night when they had an experienced, expert young man cooking, and it was fascinating watching his artistry as he managed and prepared all the food orders as they came in.
Robert and I popped in to Steak 'N Egg in Tenleytown, which I think is going to become one of his favorite places. He had the steak and egg platter. I had blueberry pancakes.
One of the things about Steak 'N Egg is that one sits at a counter right by the grill where the cook prepares the food. We were there a night when they had an experienced, expert young man cooking, and it was fascinating watching his artistry as he managed and prepared all the food orders as they came in.
CommonWealth GastroPub, Washington, D.C.
We've another new restaurant that just opened earlier this month in the Columbia Heights neighborhood. It's an intriguing place with an upscale British-American fusion concept called CommonWealth GastroPub. Having eaten at many a British pub during my college student days at Oxford, I recognized many of the more "unusual" items on the menu, yet I had to shudder at the very un-pub-like high prices.
The food, though, turned out to be very good, and the service was fun, so, I'm sure we'll end up back at this place (after I get another bank loan) to try out some of the other items on the menu.
On this our first visit, my neighbor Joel and I decided to sit out on the patio. This turned out to be an iffy choice, as we would get rained on by the time we were eating our desserts, but, hey, it's a British place, and it rains a lot in England.
Mike, a GWU student, was our waiter, and Joel kept him running and pumped him for information, and Mike expertly was up to the challenge. He recommended foods on the menu and was a font of information about the very extensive beer and ale list.
During the midst of all Joel's questioning, I nibbled on some complimentary relishes the waiter brought, being pickled green beans, beets, cauliflower, and something we think was yellow squash.
Joel decided he was going to get the chocolate stout ice cream float for dessert (which he didn't end up doing....more on that later), so he got a bottle of the double chocolate stout to drink. He reported that it didn't really have a chocolate flavor, though it had an unusual complexity for beer. Joel also insisted that I have a cocktail, so I got "The Churchill," their own blend of Tanqueray Rangpur gin (Tanq's special blend with the additional tastes of lime, bay leaf, and ginger), limoncello (a lemon liqueur), and grapefruit juice garnished with orange (I forget what was in it that gave it the blush-red color). It wasn't really my favorite. It just sort of screamed CITRUS!!! and it wasn't good citrus, it was pithy citrus (think the bitter white part under the skin). Anyway, after downing my drink, I switched to my usual iced tea. Later, though, Joel would get another beer, a lager called St. Pete's that the waiter said was one of his favorites, and that came in a really interesting green, oval bottle.
But, enough about alcohol. Let's talk about the food.
Joel started with the crab-on-toast. It was delicious. It was a good quantity of crab meat with just a touch of white sauce to bind it together piled up on a piece of toasted bread, and had a nice, rich flavor. Staying in a similar vein, I got their Welsh rarebit—sometimes also called Welsh "rabbit." Now, rarebit is usually leftover cheese rinds melted in beer and served over toast, but they had to be more upscale about it. So, we got two types of distinct cheese melted in a stout brown beer that was ladled over toast and broiled. It was very good, though I'm not used to the dark brown color (from the stout) on my melted cheese.
SInce he'd been talking about the fish and chips since before the place even opened, that's what Joel ordered for his main course. The fish was beer-battered, though he reported there wasn't any beer flavor. In fact, he thought his fish reminded him of a funnel cake! Malt vinegar, though, helped provide needed richness to the fried fish. Along with the fish came "chips," or some really, really thick-cut French fries. I tried a couple and I think they were so big, they weren't able to be completely cooked through. As a supplemental side dish, he got a cauliflower gratin, very traditionally done in a bechamel sauce. This being Friday, I also got fish, selecting the "simply grilled fish with parsley sauce," and today's fish being a lovely bluefish served atop a bed of puréed cauliflower. A big wad of watercress topped the fish. It was a nice dish, the fish being grilled to the correct degree of doneness and having a nice, seasoned, grill flavor.
I really hadn't planned on doing dessert, but we decided to do it anyway just to try out more menu items. Joel got the lemon trifle, originally slated to be layered with raspberry sauce, but tonight being made with a lingonberry/blueberry mix. The trifle had been assembled in the serving container with alternating layers of lemon pudding, berries, and cake. I got the warm treacle tart, something best described as a little pecan pie made with molasses instead of corn syrup and without the pecans.
About this time, it started to rain. Most of us out on the patio moved into the main dining room and bar, but those places were packed, and there wasn't really any place to stand or sit. Meanwhile, we observed the unusual grey monochrome decor on the inside, and Joel noted that the entry was designed to be reminiscent of those old red British phone booths. Eventually, we finished our drinks, paid our check, and headed home.
I expect, though, that we'll be back.
The food, though, turned out to be very good, and the service was fun, so, I'm sure we'll end up back at this place (after I get another bank loan) to try out some of the other items on the menu.
On this our first visit, my neighbor Joel and I decided to sit out on the patio. This turned out to be an iffy choice, as we would get rained on by the time we were eating our desserts, but, hey, it's a British place, and it rains a lot in England.
Mike, a GWU student, was our waiter, and Joel kept him running and pumped him for information, and Mike expertly was up to the challenge. He recommended foods on the menu and was a font of information about the very extensive beer and ale list.
During the midst of all Joel's questioning, I nibbled on some complimentary relishes the waiter brought, being pickled green beans, beets, cauliflower, and something we think was yellow squash. Joel decided he was going to get the chocolate stout ice cream float for dessert (which he didn't end up doing....more on that later), so he got a bottle of the double chocolate stout to drink. He reported that it didn't really have a chocolate flavor, though it had an unusual complexity for beer. Joel also insisted that I have a cocktail, so I got "The Churchill," their own blend of Tanqueray Rangpur gin (Tanq's special blend with the additional tastes of lime, bay leaf, and ginger), limoncello (a lemon liqueur), and grapefruit juice garnished with orange (I forget what was in it that gave it the blush-red color). It wasn't really my favorite. It just sort of screamed CITRUS!!! and it wasn't good citrus, it was pithy citrus (think the bitter white part under the skin). Anyway, after downing my drink, I switched to my usual iced tea. Later, though, Joel would get another beer, a lager called St. Pete's that the waiter said was one of his favorites, and that came in a really interesting green, oval bottle.
But, enough about alcohol. Let's talk about the food.
Joel started with the crab-on-toast. It was delicious. It was a good quantity of crab meat with just a touch of white sauce to bind it together piled up on a piece of toasted bread, and had a nice, rich flavor. Staying in a similar vein, I got their Welsh rarebit—sometimes also called Welsh "rabbit." Now, rarebit is usually leftover cheese rinds melted in beer and served over toast, but they had to be more upscale about it. So, we got two types of distinct cheese melted in a stout brown beer that was ladled over toast and broiled. It was very good, though I'm not used to the dark brown color (from the stout) on my melted cheese.
SInce he'd been talking about the fish and chips since before the place even opened, that's what Joel ordered for his main course. The fish was beer-battered, though he reported there wasn't any beer flavor. In fact, he thought his fish reminded him of a funnel cake! Malt vinegar, though, helped provide needed richness to the fried fish. Along with the fish came "chips," or some really, really thick-cut French fries. I tried a couple and I think they were so big, they weren't able to be completely cooked through. As a supplemental side dish, he got a cauliflower gratin, very traditionally done in a bechamel sauce. This being Friday, I also got fish, selecting the "simply grilled fish with parsley sauce," and today's fish being a lovely bluefish served atop a bed of puréed cauliflower. A big wad of watercress topped the fish. It was a nice dish, the fish being grilled to the correct degree of doneness and having a nice, seasoned, grill flavor.
I really hadn't planned on doing dessert, but we decided to do it anyway just to try out more menu items. Joel got the lemon trifle, originally slated to be layered with raspberry sauce, but tonight being made with a lingonberry/blueberry mix. The trifle had been assembled in the serving container with alternating layers of lemon pudding, berries, and cake. I got the warm treacle tart, something best described as a little pecan pie made with molasses instead of corn syrup and without the pecans.
About this time, it started to rain. Most of us out on the patio moved into the main dining room and bar, but those places were packed, and there wasn't really any place to stand or sit. Meanwhile, we observed the unusual grey monochrome decor on the inside, and Joel noted that the entry was designed to be reminiscent of those old red British phone booths. Eventually, we finished our drinks, paid our check, and headed home.
I expect, though, that we'll be back.
TenPenh, Washington, D.C.
For the past six or seven years, one of the very popular and trendy places to eat along the power corridor of Pennsylvania Avenue between the White House and the Capitol has been an upscale southeastern Asian fusion restaurant called TenPenh. Somehow, although curious, I'd managed never to eat there, sometimes because I didn't want to spend the money (it's very pricey), sometimes because we didn't have reservations and couldn't get in, sometimes because I was with people who didn't want to eat Asian food. So, fortuitously one day this week, I found myself downtown and finished early with my business in time to be at the doors of the restaurant when they opened for lunch at 11:30, and managed to get squeezed into a table before the lunch rush hit.
I got stuck at the "bad" table in the back corner of the restaurant right by the kitchen door, but for someone like me, especially when dining alone, that's actually a prime table with great entertainment, since I was able to watch the kitchen operations and listen to everything that was happening in their open-format setup.
The dining room itself is pleasant and peaceful. Asian designs and themes predominate, and a collection of brightly colored, oversized Japanese paper lanterns hang from the ceilings. Etched glass walls divide the dining areas and bars and aid in noise control. The bar offers a very full wine list with some wines going well into the $200 range and the champagnes going up to $300 (Cristal). I also saw listed a $200-something bottle of sake.
I started with the wok-seared spicy calamari salad, and it was an excellent starting choice. The calamari was a mix of squid rings and baby squid served still hot from the wok with toasted cashews and a piquant lime juice sauce over a bed of baby spinach leaves (and one leaf of endive, standing up in the bowl like a feather in a hat). The very spicy squid was expertly cooked; it was just barely done and still very tender. This salad is a regular menu item, and something one should definitely check out on future visits.
For my main course, I got the pan-seared scallops, presented in a large, teardrop-shaped dish. Four scallops were skewered on sticks and lightly seared, though they had a distinct "grill" taste to them (as scallops are wont to get ). The scallops then rested on a bed of an Asian potato cake topped with a "salad" of shaved fennel and tangerine segments and a lightly spicy citrus dressing. Now, I generally don't like fennel, since I've long had a distaste for licorice, but this wasn't too bad.
The one great disappointment in the meal, though, was the potato cake. The cake was a hamburger-sized patty of seasoned mashed potatoes rolled in bread crumbs and then fried, but the inside of my potatoes was completely cold. I asked my waiter if it was supposed to be hot or cold; he said hot; I reported mine to be cold; he simply said, "Oh." At a restaurant with the high price points of TenPenh, a cold potato cake should never have been allowed to make it to a table, and if one had, immediate action should have been taken to fix or repair the dish or to provide it (or something else) on a complimentary basis. None of that happened here.
For dessert, I was intrigued by the idea of a Thai lemon basil cake, so I ordered that. What arrived was a striking presentation of a little cupcake-sized cake topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a few big, juicy blackberries, with a drizzle of basil oil on the plate and a scattering of "dried fruit debris." The cake was moist and very sweet with a slight lemon taste, but I couldn't taste the basil, and even trying to soak up some of the green basil oil on the plate, never really got a basil scent or flavor. I think what I should have done, though, was order a Thai coffee to go with dessert, as that hot coffee would have been the perfect foil to the sweetness of the cake.
Along with the check, the waiter brought a free sample of the excellent butterscotch "blondie" brownie they use in some of the other desserts.
Wait staff is attired in Asian-style tops, with one color for waiters and another color for waiter's assistants. The staff, though, is large, and everyone seems to help out with all the tables whenever they see something needing to be done. While my waiter checked in with me regularly, different people brought my various foods and removed used dishes and (unused, since I ate with chopsticks) flatware, and I don't think the same person did anything at my table twice. Service was always prompt, efficient, well-trained, and inconspicuous; the only thing I didn't like was a bit of attitude from the maitre d'.
So, at last, I've now had my TenPenh experience. It was okay, but I think it will probably fall into the category of places I'll willingly eat when a crowd of friends or co-workers is going there, rather than being a destination restaurant on my own rotation list.
I got stuck at the "bad" table in the back corner of the restaurant right by the kitchen door, but for someone like me, especially when dining alone, that's actually a prime table with great entertainment, since I was able to watch the kitchen operations and listen to everything that was happening in their open-format setup.
The dining room itself is pleasant and peaceful. Asian designs and themes predominate, and a collection of brightly colored, oversized Japanese paper lanterns hang from the ceilings. Etched glass walls divide the dining areas and bars and aid in noise control. The bar offers a very full wine list with some wines going well into the $200 range and the champagnes going up to $300 (Cristal). I also saw listed a $200-something bottle of sake.
I started with the wok-seared spicy calamari salad, and it was an excellent starting choice. The calamari was a mix of squid rings and baby squid served still hot from the wok with toasted cashews and a piquant lime juice sauce over a bed of baby spinach leaves (and one leaf of endive, standing up in the bowl like a feather in a hat). The very spicy squid was expertly cooked; it was just barely done and still very tender. This salad is a regular menu item, and something one should definitely check out on future visits.
For my main course, I got the pan-seared scallops, presented in a large, teardrop-shaped dish. Four scallops were skewered on sticks and lightly seared, though they had a distinct "grill" taste to them (as scallops are wont to get ). The scallops then rested on a bed of an Asian potato cake topped with a "salad" of shaved fennel and tangerine segments and a lightly spicy citrus dressing. Now, I generally don't like fennel, since I've long had a distaste for licorice, but this wasn't too bad.
The one great disappointment in the meal, though, was the potato cake. The cake was a hamburger-sized patty of seasoned mashed potatoes rolled in bread crumbs and then fried, but the inside of my potatoes was completely cold. I asked my waiter if it was supposed to be hot or cold; he said hot; I reported mine to be cold; he simply said, "Oh." At a restaurant with the high price points of TenPenh, a cold potato cake should never have been allowed to make it to a table, and if one had, immediate action should have been taken to fix or repair the dish or to provide it (or something else) on a complimentary basis. None of that happened here.
For dessert, I was intrigued by the idea of a Thai lemon basil cake, so I ordered that. What arrived was a striking presentation of a little cupcake-sized cake topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a few big, juicy blackberries, with a drizzle of basil oil on the plate and a scattering of "dried fruit debris." The cake was moist and very sweet with a slight lemon taste, but I couldn't taste the basil, and even trying to soak up some of the green basil oil on the plate, never really got a basil scent or flavor. I think what I should have done, though, was order a Thai coffee to go with dessert, as that hot coffee would have been the perfect foil to the sweetness of the cake.
Along with the check, the waiter brought a free sample of the excellent butterscotch "blondie" brownie they use in some of the other desserts.
Wait staff is attired in Asian-style tops, with one color for waiters and another color for waiter's assistants. The staff, though, is large, and everyone seems to help out with all the tables whenever they see something needing to be done. While my waiter checked in with me regularly, different people brought my various foods and removed used dishes and (unused, since I ate with chopsticks) flatware, and I don't think the same person did anything at my table twice. Service was always prompt, efficient, well-trained, and inconspicuous; the only thing I didn't like was a bit of attitude from the maitre d'.
So, at last, I've now had my TenPenh experience. It was okay, but I think it will probably fall into the category of places I'll willingly eat when a crowd of friends or co-workers is going there, rather than being a destination restaurant on my own rotation list.
La Fourchette, Washington, D.C.
My friend Peter called me up and said he was going to a meeting in Mount Pleasant and wanted to go to dinner as soon as it was over. That meant Adams-Morgan, and we walked over to find a fun a different place. There are a couple of the better places in the area participating in Restaurant Week, but, with the newly raised dinner prices, Peter decided we should go to one of our old standbys, since after his meeting, he was definitely in need of a cocktail. Or two.
So, we went to La Fourchette, the old reliable French place we often patronize, and promptly ordered a carafe of the house white wine.
Then we got down to dinner. Peter started with a Caesar salad, which turned out to be a huge bowl of salad! I got a simple piece of their pâté maison, a country-style pork pâté served with little French black olives and cornichon pickles and a bit of tomato and lettuce salad.
For his main course, Peter got the chicken breast stuffed with crab meat and pronounced it delicious. I got a cold artichoke vinaigrette, and nibbled on the leaves and handmade mayonnaise dipping sauce forever.
We weren't going to do dessert, but Peter had been busily chatting up the waitress (she's new to La Fourchette, and said she's from Paris), so he felt obligated to order, and I didn't want to make him eat alone, so I acquiesced to doing dessert, too. He got my favorite, the ille flotante, or "floating island," and I got a pêche Melba on vanilla ice cream.
So, we didn't really have an "official" R.W. dinner at La Fourchette, but with their more reasonable prices, we got a huge dinner with wine for right about the same price we would have spent at a participating restaurant for just the meal (no drinks or beverages). It was my one moment of economy this week.
So, we went to La Fourchette, the old reliable French place we often patronize, and promptly ordered a carafe of the house white wine.
Then we got down to dinner. Peter started with a Caesar salad, which turned out to be a huge bowl of salad! I got a simple piece of their pâté maison, a country-style pork pâté served with little French black olives and cornichon pickles and a bit of tomato and lettuce salad.
For his main course, Peter got the chicken breast stuffed with crab meat and pronounced it delicious. I got a cold artichoke vinaigrette, and nibbled on the leaves and handmade mayonnaise dipping sauce forever.
We weren't going to do dessert, but Peter had been busily chatting up the waitress (she's new to La Fourchette, and said she's from Paris), so he felt obligated to order, and I didn't want to make him eat alone, so I acquiesced to doing dessert, too. He got my favorite, the ille flotante, or "floating island," and I got a pêche Melba on vanilla ice cream.
So, we didn't really have an "official" R.W. dinner at La Fourchette, but with their more reasonable prices, we got a huge dinner with wine for right about the same price we would have spent at a participating restaurant for just the meal (no drinks or beverages). It was my one moment of economy this week.
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