Hilda's (Jacksonville N.C.)

At home in Jacksonville, N.C., I met up with some of my D.C. friends (Mark and Mike) also spending their holiday in eastern rural North Carolina for lunch. Knowing Mike is a fan of kitsch hillbilly deliverance humor, I recommended Hilda’s, a down-home cooking restaurant housed in a former Piggly Wiggly. Take away all of the posh from Georgia Browns. Add the family local appeal of Mama Dips in Chapel Hill. Mix in 2 tubs of lard and a buffet. Throw it all into a converted grocery store with some ugly fake plants on wall sconces and a pencil drawing of a large black woman… and you’ve got Hilda’s.

My lunch consisted of fried popcorn shrimp, fried chicken, fried okra, mashed taters and some peas – then douse all of it in 3 sticks of butter with a side of diabetic shockingly sweet tea. For desert, a sliver of sweet potato pie – as if the small size could offset the calories and fat I had just ingested. I really was tempted by either the chicken neck or liver and onion special offered today, but the fried buffet looked too good. The vanilla pudding with nilla wafers was also especially southern and tempting. Our service was done by a no nonsense woman clearly unenthusiastic about working on Christmas eve, but who recommended the chicken fried steak nonetheless. She mostly left us alone, but kept the sweet tea flowing. I would like to think her lack of attention was due to our buffet choice and not because we were three white men clearly out of our element given our lack of flannel and dirty overalls. While I doubt most folks who may read this would ever find themselves in Jacksonville N.C., I felt such a quintessentially southern experience would round out my 2009 restaurant blog entries.

Potenza (15th and H)

The occasion: a power lunch with Jackie and Doug to network, discuss our current project and reminisce about working together 5 years ago. We needed a downtown restaurant and settled on Potenza at 15th and H. While the restaurant has been on my periphery since it opened in March, Italian (while fantastic) is not something I typically seek out. I've been to Italy and most Italian restaurants are either the checkered table cloth, overly cheesy pasta mom and pop places or the trendy, over-priced places like iRicchi. Potenza, though, reminded me of sitting in a small cafe table clinging to the edge of the seaside hill in Positano savoring every bite, where the atmosphere only added to the flavor of the meal. Italian, to me is about fresh ingredients and seafood. If pasta is there, wonderful. It isn't necessarily about 1000 degree triple baked manicotti covered in Parmesan crumbs like those mom and pop places. Here, I chose the gnocchi in a lemon pesto with shrimp and toasted walnuts. Most places cannot compare to my grandmother's gnocchi (whose recipe came with her on the boat in 1930 from Puglia just over the heel). And most pesto cannot compare to my friend Andrew's who chops down his basil annually and freezes blocks of it like pellets for later use. But the lemon and grilled-perfect shrimp with the fresh and light dumplings made for a perfect lunch. Jackie had a soup and the calamari. Doug had spaghetti and meatballs. We all each had dessert too. I went for the Cannoli to see how it compared with grandma's. They were crisp cinnamon and cocoa laced shells stuffed with ricotta, citron and chocolate chip filling. Grandma has some serious competition. The bakery bordering the H street entrance supplied us with the obligatory bread basket, but there was nothing routine about these treats. A salty breadstick and a light bread-cake with a nutty olive oil took the hunger pangs away as we waited for our lamb meatball appetizer. The meatballs had a sauce with a kick. Rural Italian is how I'd describe the overall menu with the obvious effort by executive chef Bryan Moscatello to find perfectly fresh ingredients. Jackie and I admired the decor but couldn't quite describe it with a single description. The wooden ceiling was transitional modern, but the distressed mirrors, the country spindle chairs (alluding to the menu) and the richly framed photos of La Dolce Vita era movie stars confused the decor. Confuse isn't the right word though. The restaurant is comfortable and beautiful. Our table was in the light-filled area facing 15th street and the American Bar Association. The center of the restaurant is a bit darker and probably pleasantly intimate for an evening date. Their only noticeable quark was the service, and it is less of a complaint than a double mint double take on our Nebraska-esq, twilight zone-strange server. While she wasn't johnny on the spot with the grated parmesan, I have no complaint with her actual service. Overall, a great place for lunch. I might be annoyed by that particular server during a romantic dinner, but certainly a worthy place for a power meal.

Rosa Mexicano (Chinatown)

With an event at the Harmon Center on a Tuesday night, I chose Rosa Mexicano on the other end of the block in Chinatown for its convenience, not its guacamole that everybody brags about. Having never been there, I decided it was time to give in. You see, I have an automatic gag reflex for any restaurant that is a chain and with Rosa's expansion to National Harbor, two locations in the D.C. metro area added to their 7 others around the nation reduced their status in my mind from that of upscale chains who get a pass for their ability to deliver gourmet to something just north of Applebees status. This fact, added to the idea of paying $25 for a chalupa when I can get out of a night at Guapos for under $15 (unless I go crazy with some 'ritas) -- I have therefore purposely avoided Rosa Mexicano until now. This particular Tuesday night brought with it the pungent stench and the street blockage of a horse show at the Verizon Center directly across the street from Rosa's front door. Thankfully, the horse tents in the street had sides this year, avoiding what was certainly an unfortunate dining experience with horse-ass waiving in your face as the Janeane Garafalo look alike matron explained occurred the year previous with the horse show. There is something unappetizing about eating a "burro-ito" with such a view. Perhaps this is leftover stigma associated from the donkey show in Laredo to which I was once subjected (ah-hem, Chris Randall). As an aside, WTF with a horse show in downtown DC? Are there not more appropriate venues for such an event? Go bother the other Rosa at National Harbor where you don't have to block traffic with your massive trailers and tents. So... with the buzz of the bar as I entered, I somewhat expected Rosa to live up to its reputation as a trendy eatery, but I've clearly come long after this place's prime. I don't think it was just the shitty table we had right in front of the door. The service was mediocre. From the lack of water, to the pushy insistence throughout the evening to order immediately or take our plates while we were clearly still eating, I do not appreciate a restaurant whose goal it is to turn the table instead of satisfy the customer. Now lets talk about the food. The more creative dishes, I will admit, were things I certainly give executive chef James Muir who hails from Buenos Aires some props. The "fusion encrusted and infused" (I know, that term is so two-thousand and late) category of food had two things I really wanted to try: The Pato en Salsa de Zarzamoras (Duck with Blackberry Sauce) is a roasted duck breast served over mashed chile de arbol sweet potatoes, grilled asparagus and blackberry chipotle sauce. The other enticing dish was the Costillas de Cordero (Rack of Lamb), which is a roasted New Zealand rack of lamb, black bean pumpkin tamale, grilled asparagus and pistachio mole. Now, if you know me well enough, you know what my hesitation was. Asparagus? It was with every damn dish there! I don't mind it once in a while. It isn't on my "blechk" food list. But could I please have some variety? I'd have chosen either of these dishes if I had the choice of no asparagus. So... I ended up deciding to compare this restaurant directly with Lauriol Plaza, which has the local appeal for Mexican and doesn't try to be the spectacular restaurant that it is. There, I almost unequivocally get the crab enchiladas, which half the time I have to order off menu. So... as in Forget Paris with Billy Crystal always ordering the veal parmesan... I went with Rosa's version of crab enchiladas, or as they call them, Jaiba. It was two soft corn tortillas filled with jumbo lump crabmeat topped with a creamy tomatillo sauce, melted chihuahua cheese and pumpkin seeds. The waiter assured me the 3 chili peppers next to this dish on the menu were a farce, so for somebody who isn't a fan of the super spicy -- I reluctantly trusted a Mexican's opinion of the heat in this dish. Crazy, I know. Most of the Mexicans I know can eat a hot pepper like its a pickle. The dish was adequate. I don't understand the pumpkin seeds -- they added nothing to the dish, but the tomatillo sauce was some of the best I've ever had. And indeed, while spicier than I'd have preferred, this dish does not rate 3 chilies. Perhaps I am comparing it too much to Thai ratings of spicy. Before dinner, we did order the mild Guacamole en Molcojete. I have no idea what that means, but they make it at your table and it is pretty tasty. My mother's is better though. She adds more lime. I also like the make-it-at-your-table Guac at Cafe Atlantico better. Rosa's was certainly not something I would tell a friend about (OMG Becky, you're going to Rosa? you have GOT to get the Guac, ooh, yummy). But as long as you're there, you might as well get it. You can't miss the kitchen carts with the fixings rolling around the place like they are serving dim sum. I was also in the mood for sangria. We chose the white sangria. Nothing to write home about, and after a pitcher, I'm pretty sure the majority of it was juice versus anything resembling liquor. Perhaps I should have gotten their signature pomegranate margarita instead, but I was recently jaded at Harris Teeter when I saw pomegranate in something totally inappropriate. I can't remember what it was, but my brain wants to say peanut butter. Like the marketing department for this product thinks it'll sell just because pomegranate is the "it" food right now. So I'm boycotting pomegranate despite antioxidants being good for my health. I'll eat more blueberries instead. So, with all of that, I give Rosa Mexicano the big zorbit and will reserve my Mexican cravings for local staples like Lauriol or Guapos. Sorry Rosa! Go cater the suburbanites who frequent national harbor and turn your Chinatown location over to a new "it" place.

Flagship (Portsmouth, VA)

My friend Dr. Mike lives on a pier sticking out into the Elizabeth River. The building used to be a warehouse, turned into condos. Sitting in his living room is like sitting in the stateroom of a luxury liner on the ocean with vast windows and all kinds of nautical views -- from the massive cargo ship cranes and Navy ships to the varied, anchored boats waiting for the 4th of July fireworks. A building on the river of course comes with a marina, in which his friends come in their diesel trawler and carry us across the water, cocktail in hand, to an arm of Scott's Creek. There is perched an old dock where we tied up and navigated the creaking boards to the Flagship Restaurant. This is my second trip to the Flagship and this hole in the wall has earned its blog. There is nothing to the actual restaurant -- with an outdoor covered area and sticky wooden tables inside. It looks like a fish house should look, with nothing trendy, waitresses sloshing sweet tea and local paintings of boats on the walls. Perhaps there was even a wooden ships wheel. If there wasn't, it's the type of place that you'd think one would be hanging. Our table of 7 ordered a couple bottles of chardonnay and I ordered the black and blue wrap -- fresh ahi tuna blackened and served in an herb wrap with blue cheese. The side was a bowl of red beans and rice. Fantastic! The first time I was at this place was for brunch where I ordered the shrimp and grits. I remember them being tasty. Its the holes in the wall that always have the best food!  Since we took the boat, I couldn't tell you a thing about the neighborhood, so here is the address: 103 Constitution Ave, Portsmouth, VA‎ -(757) 398-1600‎. I'd go back to this place... even if it were not on a boat.

Eventide (Clarendon)

The Occasion: Darryl's birthday week. I owe a lot to this guy. When I was a wee pup, he introduced me to a different level of sophistication and quality in such things as music, clothes, travel, conversation and dining. So on the occasion of his birthday, I sought a new, trendy and upscale location for dinner. At one time I would have called this genre of restaurant "infused and encrusted," but that's so two years ago. In my search, I found Eventide -- a four month old restaurant on the same block in Clarendon as another new staple of mine, The Liberty Tavern. Formerly the burnt down building of a secret society (hence the tall windows high from the ground level so people couldn't see in), the restoration is a magnificent space. Most of the outer walls are exposed masonry firewalls, leaving a rough outer shell embracing the softer luxury of the wood and textiles elsewhere in the decor. With such sophisticated decor though, more attention should have been paid to the bathrooms, which were plain and loudly painted. The first floor is like any other sidewalk restaurant with seating near a bar -- but the bar has popouts making conversation with your peers a bit more palatable. This room was filled with the type of folks you'd expect at a neighborhood bar. Baseball hats and after work clothes enjoying a cocktail. Nobody sheik and everybody very "Arlington." Dining on this level is first come first served. The second floor is the experience, with reservations required. The space is expansive, and the perception of it is embellished by the incredibly high ceiling and heavy blue drapes breaking up the space. The tables are set far enough apart where your dining neighbors can still have a private conversation without putting up booths or partitions between the tables. There is a grand staircase leading to the roof, unfortunately the flow of people from the rooftop bar prevents it from being accessible. The menu was split evenly between appetizers and entrees. Simple items with some kind of twist each. We began with the seared diver scallops. The twist on this dish was the red pepper and bacon puree. Who doesn't love bacon?  Darryl had the Lobster Tagliatelle which was poached lobster tail, lobster meatballs, fennel, brandied butter and arugula. I had the grilled tasmanian salmon with cornmeal gnocchi, spring pea ragout, and sorrel pesto. My salmon was grilled medium and was a very thick piece of fish, so I'm impressed it was so perfect. The portions were manageable and flavors playful. We popped a bottle of California Viognier that was much stronger than the Virginia Viognier I am used to, but once let to sit out of the chiller and after the taste of my pre-dinner cocktail died, it was quite good. The service was adequate. I was never quite sure who our server was. Two guys in suits attended to us. I assume one was the sommelier, but he told us more about the building than the wine. The other could have been the manager, but he acted like a jester busboy. Our actual waitress was fairly non-existent and forgettable. The actual busboy was more talkative than she when he brought a tasting of gazpacho shots with mint to begin our meal. And I just now realized we forgot to eat dessert! We were so focused on bringing out wine to the rooftop deck. I would have loved a strawberry rhubarb tart. Oh well, next time. We took the remainder of the bottle with us up to the third floor which is divided into two spaces. On one side is an outdoor seating area I would have liked to go to, but 1) it is first come first served and 2) It has a menu that isn't as appetizing (at least upon first look) because everything up there is meant to be served "not hot." I've had many cooked dishes outside, so this alternate menu confuses me to the point of stupidity. Do they think the chicken isn't going to survive on the patio? Executive Chef Miles Vaden of Eventide purports an interest in technological advances in cooking. Sorry bud, I think you missed the mark on a "cold food only" menu for the summer crowd in your outside space.  Keep that sort of thing for the vegan lesbian niche market in San Francisco. The other side of the roof top deck is a too-small bar with a stunning view of the sunset with a backdrop of the buildings of Balston. There was a mix between Arlingtoners in their brown flip flops and sexy summer sophisticates out for the evening -- drawn to this rooftop bar partly because of their eclectic drinks. I mean, who serves a Pimm's cup outside of England? What a great summer drink though.  One more thing that deserves mentioning is upon reaching the second floor where the formal dining room is, both sides of the elevator opens, revealing a baby changing room. The restaurant's web site purports understanding of being a parent. I question the rationale. This is a seriously upscale, trendy and posh place. Whoever in their right mind brings a child, let alone a baby in diapers, to such a place should be tarred and feathered. With the exception of the diaper room, I give the restaurant an A for effort and execution, but only a B+ for the rooftop. That space should have been so much more than it was.

http://www.eventiderestaurant.com/

Lost Dog Cafe (N. Arlington)

Tonight, I discovered the best gourmet pizza ever, and I've been searching for a good place since college to at least live up to Peppers on Franklin Street, Chapel Hill NC to no success. But in the Lost Dog Cafe, not only have I found the ultimate gourmet pizza, but it's a restaurant with a cause and if that were not enough -- they sell every beer known to mankind. Speaking of which, I had a Dundee -- a Rochester lager brewed with honey that had a big yellow bee on the label. Cute and tasty, just how I like my ... beer. Tonight was all about convenience. I am watching my friend Alyssa's critters for the week -- cats and fish, which require very little watching. So I went over to learn the routine and get a key. We then walked from her home to the quiet and eclectic Westover village of N. Arlington on Washington Blvd where we had a few dinner choices. I have to laugh at the call I made before driving over to ask if the place we were going to was casual as I considered jeans and a polo or shorts and a T-shirt. Apparently a softball uniform would have been okay since this hip place was clearly a very loud team's hangout. The aroma was a mix between wafted whacatacabacky. no judgement. Pizza smell and beer. The wooden booths were sticky and the waitress who sat down with us to take the order looks like she was beat with a hose and hung out to dry. But very sweet. Behind the bar was a wall of beer bottles, 90% of which you'd never heard of. A chalkboard listed the new brews for the summer, and the walk-in convenience store connected to the place let you take home a six pack of these rare beers. Alyssa and JP ordered the pit bull pie which was spicy with jalapenos, pastrami, ham, pepperoni, salami, red onions, basil and oregano. I ordered a Yogi the Lab's pie individual pizza which was basically a BBQ chicken pizza -- one of my favorite combos. It had housemade BBQ chicken breast sliced and topped with red onions, mozzarella and green onions. This version hands down whipped the ass of the original BBQ chicken pizza from the original Macaroni Grill north of San Antonio before they went commercial... That BBQ sauce came from their sister restaurant, an authentic Texas BBQ joint next door. So it is saying a lot that some lost dog place this far from decent BBQ could beat that original pizza. (The commercial version doesn't compare). And don't even talk to me about comparing it to the slop at CPK. The conversation flowed, as did the beer. The place finally came down a few decibels as the softball boys left. At this point, I started to notice all the dog art on the wall and in the bathroom and wondered what the place had for dogs that was so strong. Then there was a wall of people and their dogs, little pictures. Alyssa then mention a place down the street called the Stray Cat which sold sandwiches and was somehow related.  It wasn't until I got home and looked up their web site that I realized their cause that I previously mentioned. I will copy/paste verbatim from their site, which is www.lostdogcafe.com. Being a dog lover and owner of a rescued schnauzer who has brought so much love to my life -- even if the pizza sucked, I'd go back to this place. Thank god the pizza didn't suck.

--- From their site:

The Lost Dog Café has been serving up great pizza, hot sandwiches and beer from around the world in Arlington’s Westover neighborhood since 1985. Wellknown as a place to get great food at a great price, the café also serves up a hefty slice of compassion with each pizza. Café owners Ross Underwood and Pam McAlwee have been rescuing stray dogs and cats almost as long as they have been in business and the effort continues.

It began with a few “lost” dogs needing a place to stay until they could find new homes of their own. In 2001, thanks largely to the success of the Lost Dog Café, the pair established a non-profit foundation dedicated solely to the cause of helping homeless and abandoned dogs and cats find forever homes. Today the Lost Dog and Cat Rescue Foundation (LDCRF) places almost 2000 animals per year into permanent, loving homes—each one spayed or neutered prior to adoption. The foundation’s efforts continue to be supported by the Lost Dog Café and its sister restaurant (just a few doors down), the Stray Cat Café.

It’s the compassion that makes the Lost Dog Café more than just a great place to eat—here you can rest assured that you are helping to make a difference—one dog or cat at a time.

To learn more about the foundation’s efforts, to donate, or to volunteer, visit the Lost Dog and Cat rescue foundation website at www.lostdogrescue.org.

Cava (Capitol Hill)

After being mildly annoyed by my last venture out with a recommendation from Washington Post food critic Tom Seistma, I had to quickly give him a reprieve to help restore my faith in his opinion. And his write up this week of Cava -- the Rockville, Md., cum Capitol Hill Barracks Row restaurant did just that. I did their Greek Mezze during Friday night happy hour with my friend Mike who just moved up from Tampa. The posh atmosphere was sexy and inviting. Dark, candlelit with brick walls that didn't let you forget you're on this historic street, but the contemporary and polished fixtures and warm wood added to the buzz of loud laughter. The front windows slid to the side erasing the line between the sidewalk and the bar, welcoming walkers in for a drink. The one I chose was a twist on a mint julep with apricot puree and liquor in it -- my homage to the Preakness this weekend. Go Papa Clem! Move your bloomin' arse!  As the after work crowd arrived, Cava got ever more livelier with a very hip and refined clientele, although our table for two in the back was perfectly private. The number of options on the menu were all traditionally greek but with some semblance of gourmet twist to them. Different Herbs here or there.  Wanting meat -- we chose the Cava grill, which came with 3 lamb chops, 2 chicken souvlaki, 2 grilled meatballs and 2 pork medallions that melted like butter in my mouth. We also ordered a dish of spanakopita to balance it out.  All of the meat was grilled perfectly -- sometimes kabobs can be dry. Not here. And the lamb chops were FANTASTIC. I feel terrible for those people who won't eat lamb. I've had bad lamb before and know why they don't prefer it... don't fear it at Cava though. All of this food would have been perfect for three people at a happy hour timed dinner as we ended up taking home a few things.  The wait staff was attentive and considerate. When I said we'd be having a drink and were not going to even look at the menu for a while, they didn't bat an eyelash unlike other hopping places I frequent. Definitely a good recommendation by Tom and a place I will add to my list of places to return in the near future. http://dc.cavamezze.com/site/home

Vermillion (Old Town)

I often forget of all the options in Old Town for dinning, compartmentalizing all the restaurants there in my mind as colonial decor, mincemeat pie and servers with big buckles on their shoes -- belonging more in an amusement park than in a metropolitan city. But it isn't really like that. This week I was reminded again of the decent fare Old Town has to offer by Vermillion on King St., owned by the same people who do two of my other favorite restaurants -- Tallulah and Evening Star. I've also learned they have a 4th, relatively new one that does beer pairings in Old Town I believe called Rustica (?). The occasion for Friday night was dinner with the Clods and Mike, a classmate from college in town with the Air Force. We chose Vermillion primarily because of its convenience. I had been there before and remember it being decent -- but was there with such a large group, that the details of the restaurant were sketchy. The evening began downstairs in their lounge with mint juleps (because the Clods missed them for the derby) and I of course had my summer special of Hendricks Gin, cucumber muddle and soda. Vermillion puts sugar in their version making it more mojito-y -- but good nonetheless. Once upstairs, we took a difficult to maneuver booth given its velvet upholstery and the complete inability to slide in... The dinner selection was easy. We all chose the chef's tasting menu and wine pairing. This began with a taste complements of the chef of a bit of thin sliced ham and I'm not sure what else. Very tasty and always a classy touch. Our first real course was a crispy fried oyster atop shaved fennel and mint slaw. This was served with a New Zealand Sauvignon blanc. Our second course was a trout served atop blue crab, garlic and leeks. To make it fancy, it also had a roasted bell pepper froth -- that silly new culinary trend -- some call it whipped or flavored air. I think it looks like spit on my plate... nonetheless, this was one damn fine trout. This dish was coupled with a chardonnay from Argentina. Not a big fan of chardonnay here, but it wasn't half bad. Next we had the hangar steak over rye spatzel. I could have had this all by itself on a much larger dish. This was absolutely delectable, however it was coupled with a far-too-tart and in your face cabernet from Australia (or so says the menu... I could have sworn the waitress said it was a malbec... but it was way too bold for a malbec). We finished the meal with rice pudding fritters with dried cherries, pinenuts and a bittersweet chocolate sauce. Oh man -- this tops most any desert I've had at a restaurant. The desert was even paired with an old tawny port. All of that for only $61 was a bargain. The decor of vermillion was subtle and creative -- frames on the wall lit by distant lights to look as if the brick in the frame was the art. Modern, but comfortable and rustic. Our very large booth which could have accommodated 6 was awkward. That I can honestly say was my only complaint. The service and management were very attentive... the manager coming over to our table to answer my question about their relationship with those other restaurants I mentioned. This got him high marks in my book. Overall, a decent meal out in Old Town... no mincemeat on the menu and nobody wore buckled shoes.

The Source (Downtown)

I can certainly see why all the accolades fell upon Wolfgang Puck's relatively new DC restaurant, The Source, which is attached to the Newseum. I went there this week with my old friend Becky, in town from Germany. While I had tried to find someplace with white asparagus on the menu given the season, she really has only one requirement for restaurants -- a tablecloth. I'm sure there are other less trendy places to go in the city which could have satisfied this requirement, but The Source has been on my list since it opened and won the best new restaurant in DC award. We started off in the bar on a crowded happy hour Wednesday where they served my new favorite spirit -- Hendricks Gin -- muddled with cucumber and served up. We also ordered a cheese plate for our wait since we showed a half hour before our reservations. Valet parking was simple and the bar had a lounge atmosphere, hopping with young hill staffers and a sexy vibe. Our table became ready before our cheese plate arrived and I was impressed at the seamless delivery of it upstairs to our semi-private table for two overlooking the staircase. Among the impressive wine list, we settled on a bottle of an Austrian Sav. Blanc -- the strongest grapefruit flavor I've ever tasted in this kind of wine. Very perfect pairing for my choice of the scallops, served with a coconut peanut sauce and a side of drunken noodles. The three scallops on the plate were large and stood alone while the noodles were served separately in a sterling covered dish. The coconut peanut sauce was a sweet complement to the savory and perfectly sauteed scallops. The rest of the menu was asian fusion and all looked good. I was particularly torn between the scallops and pork chop for its licorice honey glaze. Chef Scott Drewno certainly has a creative palette. Had I looked at the desert menu with my order, I would have pre-ordered the chocolate souffle as the entree was just the right size to be able to enjoy a sweet ending, however with the length of time required for that, I settled on the blueberry almond crumble with vanilla salted streusel and ginger ice cream -- heavenly. The service was spectacular. My wine glass was never empty. An empty plate was never static. And the army of servers were never intrusive. Our primary waiter was gentle, sophisticated and clearly knowledgeable. I was pleased by his recommendation of the scallops when I asked him to choose between my two selections. The upstairs decor is striking and modern with a wall of wine behind glass, walls of windows looking out on the rain storm, and tables that were not on top of each other. With the lack of restaurants in that vicinity, The Source brings a hearty competition to the posh Charlie Palmer Steak, just blocks away. Make sure to go with enough green in the bank though as any visit will surely make a dent in your checkbook.

Fire & Sage

In the downtown Marriott is a restaurant. Like most hotel restaurants, I don't consider them destinations. But when Tom Sietsema, the Washington Post's food critic who has yet to misguide me, raves over the renovations of a restaurant called Fire and Sage in what used to be a tacky 90s nautical themed place (Regatta bar), I put it on my watch list.  Fast forward two weeks to an evening with my ladies Ty, Monica and Jen.  Ty being pregnant, we asked her what her desire was for the evening.  Normally when I ask somebody's desire, the expected response is a genre -- like Italian. Ty responded -- I want bacon wrapped scallops.  Ah hell.  So off a googling I went until I found some half decent menus with bacon wrapped scallops at recognizable locations in DC.  Two showed up on the list. Mortons in Crystal City and this Fire and Sage place.  I'm sure there are more, but these were the list I had. Mortons is a bit pricey, but I threw both out there.  The girls started drooling over the Fire and Sage menu. I warned them it was a hotel restaurant... a place for transient businessmen to pick up hookers, watch sports on the big screen and drink into the night enjoying the solace from screaming children at home. Then I went to make a reservation. The lady laughed at me. Laughed! "oh, you won't need a reservation."  Warning #2. But the ladies were content with the menu so we went.  Free valet parking if you go to the restaurant (warning #3) -- marketing ploy to draw people in. Not worth it. We walked in and picked our own seat when the bar was full (warning #4). Nobody second guessed the tub sized baby gift in a 'nice' restaurant (warning #5). Jen and I getting there first, and 5 minutes before the end of happy hour ordered some aps and drinks. The sliders were nothing special, but the garlic sea salt fries were fantastic.  Of course it was just garlic and sea salt.  How hard is that? The fries themselves were nothing special. The drinks were very weak, albeit tastey -- like juicy juice. The waiter was friendly and attentive... of course, us being his only table.  I ordered the scallops wrapped in bacon... given that was the impetus behind recommending this place. Was I ever disappointed.  Scallops have a sweet spot. You can't over cook them or else they are rubber. If you undercook them, that's called ceviche. To get the bacon cooked, I imagine they would need to fry it up first, wrap them and then continue cooking... but I'm not sure that's what they did because I could bounce these suckers off the wall like one of those rubber balls from a gum ball machine. The dish was served with greens and a glob of cheese grits.  And me being a southern raised boy, I use the word grits only in the technical term. Cement would probably be a better description. Jen and I did split some of their mac and cheese, which was half decent, although I've certainly had better. I was utterly disappointed in the entire meal. Lets move onto the ambiance. The best I can say about that is it was no longer a nautical theme. There was nothing special about this expensive renovation that would have me recommend this place as trendy.  Shut off the sports on the TV, dim the lights, fire the chef, keep the waiter but make him take off that stupid Marriott name-tag (this is a restaurant, not a hotel), and tell the bartender to double his pour. I don't remember what Tom had when he went, who was there or what impressed him so, but let me tell you, this place was utterly forgettable. The only reason I remember these details is for my readers to warn them away. Thankfully I was with some sexy and fun women who distracted me from the "dining" experience.

Liberty Tavern (Clarendon for dinner)

I am in nirvana, having just quite unexpectedly had the best dining experience and meal out I've ever had in DC at Liberty Tavern in Clarendon. This always hopping place I've known for its bar scene and previously blogged about its decent brunch buffet can teach some of the 5 star joints around here about quality service and modern American gastronomics. As a thank you for dog sitting Ruby while in Key West, Alyssa and I decided on Liberty Tavern for a meal tonight. It's a bar. I didn't even think about making a reservation and didn't need one. Of course after the experience, I'm very surprised I could even get in. The bar was of course packed, loud and hopping on the first floor with all kinds of young professionals starting their weekend on a Thursday night. After only a few minutes of waiting, we were escorted upstairs to a table for 2. Our waiter, Jimmy, greeted us cordially. We chose an inexpensive sangiovese and ordered the shrimp appetizer, our first decidedly surprise of the evening. The large gulf shrimp came fried in a spicy batter with breaded fennel and, strangely, fried and breaded slices of lemon. Never thinking I'd see a fried lemon again, I decided to take a bite. It was like candy noshing on a lemon head. Interesting in the good way. When it was time to order, this is when Jimmy proved himself above the fold when it comes to waiters. We had a few questions about the menu. Not only did Jimmy answer our questions in significant detail, he anticipated follow-on questions going into third order detail. I felt like I could ask him the name of the boat my fish was caught on. When asked what the most popular dish and his favorite, he gave a lecture on the different dishes, my mouth watering at every word. Jimmy's favorite dish, something new, was the skate. A meal our table neighbor chose and it did indeed look good, but I went with the Branzino. The decision was difficult with the number of Executive Chef Liam LaCivita's wood burning oven choices on this season's menu. My Branzino was served over a bed of house made spinach spaetzle with a smoked pepper sauce. In a unique addition, two strips of thick and savory maple juniper bacon topped the fish. Before my fish came though, the home made bread came and Jimmy even described the different bread choices. An amazing waiter who deserved every bit of my 30 percent tip. Alyssa chose the Beef tri tip -- a cut of meat I had never heard of, but she raved over. I was so impressed with the night that I called the manager, Shawn, over to complement him on the excellent evening and Jimmy's service. For the last 4 years, Ceiba has held my top spot in all of DC for their service record. I'm sorry Ceiba, you've been served. Liberty Tavern takes that top spot now. High marks all around.

La Te Da (Key West)

Dinner last night was at La Te Da, a dinner theater famous for its drag shows. The chef there,  I think her name is Georgia Chase… I haven’t kept up… serves a mediocre  theater menu. While her gazpacho was spicy and fantastic, it was far too large a portion for a starter. My entrée was the citrus mahi, whose sauce was out of this world, but when paired with a piece of fish that had obviously been frozen, was disappointing. And for those of us with lactose issues, a single choice of cheesecake or cheesecake wasn’t going to cut it. When we asked the waitress who was foreign and didn’t remotely understand the question if there were any options (even for an up charge) other than cheesecake, she offered us key lime pie, which we accepted. However, a person who understood the dilemma would have said, the pie has whipped cream and a chocolate crust… what kind of place serves an alternatively lactose free dish that is covered in lactose? But what can you expect when you staff your purportedly top tier restaurant with people who don’t understand the primary language. A second example of this there was when my sugar packet solution to our unlevel table was unsuitable for our waitress and she called the bus boy to fix it… instead of him removing my sugar packets and replacing them with a cork he brought… instead he saw the sugar packets and decided the wobbly table was fixed. If you’re going to have a good restaurant, the competence of your wait staff must be unquestionable. The ambiance of the place… being outside… could have been spectacular under the shade trees on a breezy evening. But instead, there were screaming children poolside who were residents of the hotel and smokers who felt it appropriate to light up in the eating area – a practice I find rude and reprehensible no matter the one human family blah blah blah acceptance down here. I will not ever couple dinner with a show at La Te Da again.

Hot Tin Roof (Key West)

Hot Tin Roof is the restaurant for the Ocean Key Resort and has a beautiful view of the sunset with the address 0 Duval St.  Just above Mallory square and far enough away from the sunset festival to have a nice dinner, but still enjoy the low-key music from the band playing below – this is a higher scale restaurant. Having timed our reservations to coincide with the sunset, we arrived only moments before it became comfortable… the sun glaring in our eyes and the humidity frizzing mom’s hair. Mom and I each started off with a martini.  Mine was a key lime pie martini mixed with Licor 43, which reminded me of the swizlestick bar in Fort Walton Beach.  I started the meal off with shrimp scampi – 2 of them… just a bite to put something in my stomach, although the puff bread would have sufficed.  The shrimp were pink, large and local. Mom had the grilled scallop served over polenta. My meal was the Yellowtail snapper, which came with a tangy red sauce over it and was a rather large slice of fish.  I couldn’t eat the entire thing, but really wanted to.  The fish was a bit dry, but the flavor of the sauce made up for any misgivings. An Australian Sav. Blanc complemented my meal. Mom had the shrimp risotto, which had arugala in it and proved humorous to watch her slice her grits. Her meal, although good, was far too rich for me. Our meals came only moments after the beautifully clear sunset dropped behind Sunset Key across the water. Not a cloud in the sky that evening. Our wait staff seemed accustomed to the amateur photographers who covered the outside balcony where we sat.  The inside of the restaurant was empty, perhaps expected for a Monday night as the new crop of tourists had not yet descended on the island.  With only moderately good and considerably pricey food, I may opt next time to watch the sunset from the pier and enjoy the festival below instead. A good experience nonetheless.

El Siboney (Key West)

We made our way on bikes to the Cuban restaurant that Billy, the pool bar guy, recommended and it was exactly the kind of place I like to go to when traveling… seeing and tasting from the local’s perspective. On the corner of Margaret and Catherine Streets (I love that all the street names are names…) is a one story brick home-turned-business with maybe 3 parking spots out front. It is very out of the way for the tourist crowd, but a nice change of pace from the bustling Duval street.  The restaurant’s name is El Siboney and purports itself to be a family friendly Cuban restaurant offering the best in authentic Cuban dishes on budget.  It was filled with mostly locals… little old ladies, latin families (I assume Cuban) and perhaps 3 tourist families.  I had the grilled pork tenderloin (for some reason, pork says Cuban to me) and mom had the mahi. Each dish was served with black beans, yellow rice and fried plantains. Mom enjoyed her mahi, not having ordered that fish in a number of years which made her question why? We guessed the spices on her fish to be cumin and paprika. My pork loin was served butterflied and was far too large to eat in one sitting. With some lime squeezed over it, it was tender, juicy and flavorful.  While I enjoyed my pork, I wish I had called ahead to order the paella which has lobster and shrimp in it, but takes over an hour to make. The best part of the meal was in the end though, a small bowl of rice pudding.  As a rice pudding fanatic, I can honestly say this was the best I’ve ever had.  Creamy with overpowering vanilla flavor and large grains of rice.  The staff at this restaurant was friendly, attentive and fast, but don’t go there for the ambiance.  A trip to this hole in the wall is strictly for the magnificent food, not for a dining experience.

Evening Star Cafe (Del Ray)

So tonight I ventured into Del Ray, what could be my ideal neighborhood if I lived in the middle of nowhere, to Evening Star Cafe. I've frequented this restaurant a number of times in the past and always pictured it low key with really good food. But apparently for somebody who considers themself low key, Evening Star is higher end. I chose a glass of Horton Viognier, my favorite white from my favorite local winery -- snaps for the wine list. Perusing the menu, I started with the Fried goat cheese and beet salad, one of my favorite culinary combinations even though on their own I like neither -- snaps for the salad. For my entree, I chose the scallops because I had remembered them being tasty before, although the menu was different now and these scallops were not the same. I am finicky about my scallops though. They have to be cooked to the perfect balance between rubber and raw. If you can find the flashpoint between the two, they are perfect. These met that flashpoint. There were four medium sized scallops on my plate surrounding a mound of bacon and sprout hash. Again... flavors that just danced in my mouth. I had to look up on the menu to figure out what I was eating... I had no idea bacon and sprouts... it was (the good kind of) interesting and the flavors unidentifiable... but so good I ate every bite. The bacon was thick and the texture of the hash made every bite savory. The ambiance of the place, adorned with erector set lamps, loud color walls and a matching loud vibe that overwhelmed the small space made for an eclectic and enjoyable experience to supplement the A+ culinary excursion. Evening Star is a great date restaurant, clearly solid in its long standing status as one of the best restaurants in DC since its opening in the late nineties. I note its absence this year on the Washingtonian's 100 best. Perhaps the Washingtonian hasn't been there since chef Matt Cordes arrival a year or so ago when he brought a more modern American menu to the place. My dinner companion's side was jalapeno mac and cheese! Come on, who thinks of that! yum. Before he came around, I remember the menu being a bit more creole. The shift was noticeable and welcome. Highly recommended.

Rice (14th St)

Thaiphoon is a trendy hotspot in Dupont and Po Siam is a dump, hole-in-the-wall in Arlandria. Thaiphoon serves their Pad Thai on chic white plates while the drunken noodles at Po Siam have no real presentation to them at all. But if you switched the two dishes from each kitchen, patrons at either location wouldn't know the difference.

But at Rice -- which helped pave the 14th St renaissance that began in 2004 and is only now catching on -- is an entirely different Thai place. You cannot find Chicken with olives and basil anywhere else in this city (that I know of). And sometimes I crave that dish like until I can think of nothing else, to my own detriment because when I get there and finally order it, I forget to ask them to turn down the heat. Smallwerld<--not a fan of the uber spicy.

The restaurant has basically three menus in one. A "traditional" Thai menu... although everything on it seems to have its own special modification -- like the string beans served with the pik khing chicken; Rice specialties (like my chicken/basil/olives) that offer fusion thai or re-thought combinations of food using uniquely Thai ingredients; and a seasonal menu -- October has a lot of 'pumpkin' items. I can't tell you what was on the seasonal menu Friday when I went because I was too focused on my chicken/basil/olives that I didn't even open the menu.

The restaurant is small, sleek and minimalist. The art is on the plate, not on the walls. Like the artful way they deliver a side of rice with each dish... sometimes sweet, sometimes black, sometimes green, but always shaped and styled with care reflective of the restaurant’s name.

My only complaint? The teak chairs... I now selfishly take the booth seat if we get such a table because the chairs are simply awful. Hard. handcrafted and rustic/modern vibe? sure... but hard and uncomfortable. They do not inspire lingering. Perhaps this is a passive-aggressive way to turn tables.

The service is forgettable... which means not bad, but not out of the way. And don't leave without a lychee martini!

Mark's Duck House

On a nice Saturday afternoon, I went with Alyssa to Falls Church for a quick bite of Dim Sum at Mark's Duck House.  At one time, this place was rated in the top 100 Chinese restaurants in the US and the Washingtonian can't get enough of it.  It certainly lives up to the thought that the great places are the holes in the wall.  Hole is putting it nicely.  In a strip mall called Wilson Center is an uninviting facade with ducks hanging from the chop shop side of the restaurant.  The place is filled with Asians -- a good sign for any Asian restaurant.  We sat at a table for 2 in the back as the Dim Sum carts made their way around.  The movie Working Girl flashed in my mind.  I'm not really sure what anything we ate was called.  Many steamed dumplings with pork, shrimp etc. in them.  The one that I loved the flavor but couldn't eat a second one because of the mashed potato texture inside was the taro root crusted pork.  Flavors I'd just never had with a texture that made me gag a bit... You have to be a bit daring here, however,  I stayed away from the Chicken Feet. At $20 for two, it was certainly a bargain and an experience.

Hard Times Cafe

To celebrate national chili day, I met Monica and Kyle at Hard Times Cafe on King St. in Old Town.  I've passed this place so many times not ever giving it a second thought other than, "what's that horse statue doing in the back of that old timey truck?"  Anybody who's been to old town just had a light bulb go off and knows exactly what restaurant this is now.  Apparently known for its chili, their schtick tonight was order something, anything... a diet coke even... and get a free bowl of chili.  What nobody told us was that this was a popular celebration in Old Town and that we'd have to wait an hour to get a table... so our something was a number of beers.  I was thrilled that Shiner Bock was on tap.  A Texas brew from Shiner, Texas, that you just don't see often.  After a few of these, we were seated.  Our waitress brought us a taster of chilis.  There are 4.  A red one that was too hot for me.  A Texas one that was full of flavor.  A Cincinnati one that was on the sweet side and I wish I had ordered, and a vegetarian one that tasted like a can of smashed ass.  There was a moment of flashback to Langley O'Club free chili Sundays with all the Peters' kids when I asked if they served their chili over rice.  Sadly no.  When the waitress explained the deal of the night, it was clear she was either 'over' it or toked up because we asked if our beers from the bar counted as our 'something' and she responded with 'I don't care, I'll bring you some chili.' ... but we ended up ordering some sliders.  I settled on the Texas chili, but forgot to ask for it with beans, which would have settled the spice down a bit.  Regardless, it was some great chili.  After some laughs, some more beers, a lot of chili, and a pocket full of saltines to take home, we called it a night. National chili day will be celebrated on my calendar next year again.  Especially if the economy blows as much as it does now.  Everybody should celebrate these hard times at the Hard Times cafe.  

Hook

For my last outing of this year's DC restaurant week, I decided to finally check out Hook, given all the buzz around town about this place.  It's a fish restaurant.  Not seafood, but fish.  Seafood restaurants are on the coast and serve hushpuppies and buckets of shrimp.  They are messy, smell of the sea and usually have a large fish tank in them.  Hook serves fish.  All different kinds of fish, but specializes in finding regional products that support a sustainable, earth-friendly philosophy.  But don't throw on your birkenstocks and think you can come in here. Hook has clearly made its mark as a place to see and be seen before drinking the night away at one of the many posh lounges nearby.  This was evidenced by the table of sparkly girls next to us.  But if you're a big girl, request a bench seat.  The awkward round chairs of Hook will not fit a big ass.  We watched uncomfortably as an amazon sized woman tried to pry her way between the arms of this poor chair.  I don't think she ever got all the way into it.  As for the food... I have to give restaurants who serve their normal menu as their restaurant week menu some props... Hook did this.  It says to me that they don't need the money, they just want you to experience the food.  That's what this week is all about.  My meal started with a bit of a shocker... it was the bread on the table.  One bite and I went for the water.  I'm not a horse.  I don't lick salt.  This cornbread was salt cornbread -- I had never hear of such a thing.  Dining with Monica, Ty, Jen and Nancy... one of them tried to convince me that this was a southern thing.  I'm southern.  The only way you're going to have cornbread that salty in my part of the South is if you mistook the salt jar for the sugar on the counter.  My appetizer continued the theme of salt.  How good does this sound?  Yellow and red beats thinly sliced with a vinaigrette, whipped goat cheese and pistachios?  YUM.  Now the waitress did say this was a sweet and salty dish... the juxtaposition enticed me.  But again, all I tasted was the salt of the nuts.  Now that my blood pressure was raised from all that salt, I chose the Barramundi from Massachusetts for my entree.  I just wanted a different kind of fish I'd never had before.  To the waitress' credit, she did say this was a medium to bold fish... which means it tastes like fish.  I'm not a fan of fishy fish... but again, I wanted to step out a bit and ordered this.  I primarily ordered it for the parsnips, which I love... otherwise, I'd have chosen the char, which Ty hand and looked great.  Jen had the steak, so there is an option for the fish-haters, although there was only that one option.  The accolades for this evening's meal do not go to executive chef Jonathan Seningen and all his fish variations, but to Hook's pastry chef Heather Chittum.  My desert was the apple tart with a side of vanilla ice cream (which I traded for the nutella ice cream from Monica's Chocolate thing).  Very thinly slice apples layered and designed on a light puff pastry made for a wonderful finish to the evening.  It's no wonder she's so good.  Her lineage includes being the Pastry Chef for Chef Richard from Citronelle, arguably the best restaurant in DC -- Chef Richard of course having been a pastry chef for 15 years himself.  Overall, it rates as a restaurant I'd like to bring my mom to for a DC dining experience, but probably not a place I'd frequent.  The best part of the evening by far was simply the company.

Mie-n-Yu

For my second night celebrating DC restaurant week, I went out with my dear friend Alyssa to catch up after not having seen her in some months.  Catching up with people is one of the reasons I like Restaurant week so much... it's an excuse to get together like any other holiday...  hence its holiday status in my book.  We chose Mie n Yu, a Georgetown restaurant whose menu follows the silk road from China through the middle east.  It has decor that might be better suited to Disney's Epcot... fountains pouring into Bowls, a room that makes you feel as if you were a tuareg in the desert.  Last night though, I dined in Afghanistan and Morocco... or so those were the dishes I chose.  I started with the Afghan Mantu, which is a beef and scallion dumpling that had mint yogurt and a tomato sauce.  All of this is fancy for undercooked potsticker from any Chinese place, although I enjoyed the yogurt sauce.  Maybe that was the Afghan part.  My entree was the Moroccan Beef.  It was a large piece of slow roasted local organic beef with moroccan fruits, cinnamon, honey and saffron chutney served over roasted root vegetables.  Now this was good.  Of course I love most chutneys having grown up with my grandma making them, but I've never put it over a slow roasted side of beef.  By far this was the best meal of my week.  For desert, I was stuck with either chocolate or cheesecake.  Neither are good choices for me gastronomically speaking, so I chose the less chocolatey sounding chocolate choice.  That would be the Pecan Chocolate Croustade with chocolate whipped cream.  It just tasted like pecan pie with chocolate chips melted in it.  Nothing special.  The service, while good, was impersonal and the vibe was lively and trendy which proved an interesting juxtaposition to the Epcot decor.  Overall assessment, a fun place to dine with a very creative and different menu.

Indebleu

DC Restaurant week has always been my favorite holiday... a time to go to the restaurants that you never can make it to (if you make early enough reservations).  Well, Indebleu has been on my list for years.  I never made it there when it was the new 'it' restaurant... and then it got a bad rep, so I never tried to go after that.  But for restaurant week, I felt I ought to give it a shot.  I went there tonight with my friend Lou as a payback for watching my dog while I went off to Mexico for the weekend.  The night started off by me having to take a shower at his place because my hot water is out at home... and my complex changed the door codes on me today so I was locked out after walking the dog and hence late to Lou's... plus, I had a bit of a headache.  Read:  Dave's not in the best/most social of moods.  And if you know me, that can be a bit of a chore to deal with... But Indebleu attacked my downer day pleasantly turning it around.  First, the hostess was apologetic for not being able to seat us immediately and we had to wait 5 minutes past our reservation.  Seriously?  5 minutes is no big deal in my book, but her gracious  greeting earned points.  We headed to the bar where I found their wine by the glass selection appealing.  I had a Sangiovese, which you normally wouldn't find by the glass.  After we sat, our waiter, Brian -- a slight, but perky church-goer greeted us with a big smile and a helpful attitude.  He continued his good service throughout the evening... forgetting to charge us for the bottled water and other glass of wine earning him a generous tip.  My meal started with Main Mussels steamed with lime, tomato, garlic and ginger red curry.  There was a bit of a kick to these mussels, but they were steamed nicely and the curry sauce was a wonderful dip for the bread.  My main plate was the jerk brined and fried chicken.  I was going to order the yellow fin tuna, but I eat a lot of tuna.  I wanted something different... and I had read recently in a magazine... Details or GQ likely... that foodie restaurants were doing fried chicken.  This was my first time to a place of Indebleu's stature with fried chicken on the menu, but it was plump, juicy, crisp and not at all what I expected.  Needless to say, I'll never go to KFC again after this fried chicken.  Not even on the same planet and shouldn't be allowed to share the same trailer trash name.  The chicken was served with chinese greens, green chili corn pudding and a pineapple hot sauce.  Past the breading, the sauce is really what made this dish pop.  For desert, I wish I had ordered what Lou did... the L'Opera: an almond biscuit, kahlua cream, chocolate ganache and pistachio ice cream... but the chocolate ganache sounded too rich for me.  Turns out my Banana split had way more chocolate and less of the cherry that was described in the menu.... and while ok, I could have done without my desert.  Instead, I helped Lou eat his.  The ambiance of the restaurant was loud and bright.  For such a small space, I could appreciate the volume, although to Lou, it was distracting.  I thought it was the perfect level for a vibrant place.... but talking about vibrant, Please send in some lesbians to install dimmer switches.  The sunlamps of recessed lighting almost blistered the top of my head, forcing me to move over a chair.  All in all, I think this place can survive the stigma that it outlived its useful life.  These positive observations, mostly revolving around the spectacular food and service, are likely caused by the relatively new executive chef.  Michael Hartzer, formerly under the tutelage at DC's enviable Citronelle, has been with Indebleu for a little over a year.  With some good PR, this place could be the 'it' place again... it certainly has all the credentials... or at least it will if it installs dimmers.

Sei

Trend setters need to venture to this new eatery on 7th in Penn Quarter.  Sei, pronounced Say, just opened a few weeks ago, taking the sushi chef from Perry's and creating a chic downtown sushi and small plates restaurant.  Where the menu is short on food choice, the options for sake abound.  I however opted for a Pear sangria, thinking if I'm going to be at the new 'it' place, I need to drink their 'it' drink.  The chef's special sushi menu had many interesting options, the best of which that I ate was the fish and chips role, filling flounder in a role topped with thin, crisp french fries and a side of wasabi tartar creating a nice juxtaposition in both flavor and texture.  If you don't like sushi, there is also a small plates menu.  I didn't try anything on it, but the foie gras role looked interesting.  The disappointment of the night was the crunchy shrimp role.  While this dish would have sufficed at any less posh place, the "fried" tasted old.  Chef Yasutake, change your oil!  The Ambiance in this place kept the night flowing.  Don't come if you're sensitive to a loud place.  While we were able to carry on a decent conversation, the decibels were not for the faint of heart.  While for most places, that means it's lively enough and people are having fun.  However had our table for 2 been a larger party, I don't think I would have been able to hear the conversation.  The decor is fab-chic in all white with gold-leafed plaster fleur de les all over certain walls and bold red reeds breaking the space up.  Like Rasika around the corner, this place ads to the growing list of fashionable ethnic dining in a booming Penn Quarter, with my recommendation.

Ray's Hell Burger

I had a lunch meeting today in Rosslyn and as it was too cold to walk, we drove. When you drive in Rosslyn, you have to consider parking -- which pretty much brings me to the only restaurant strip that has parking. There's Pho75, a Mexican Place, a coffee shop, a Greek place, a steak place and a street number: 1713. And inside the non-descript facade under 1713 Wilson is a GREAT find. Ray's Hell Burger. What fantastic play on words. Almost better than the bar I frequented in Florida -- Hellen Back. With a line out the door at Ray's, there were signs up that said don't take a table until you order. WOW! Really? Supply and demand I guess. I ordered a Grilled Burger with Vermont White Cheddar, Smoked bacon, and red onions. I've never had a better burger in my life. Juicy. Flavor. Cooked perfect. On a soft bun. The options were endless. If you're an option freak, you'd be in hog heaven. Options make me stare in indecision... and this place, like Seinfeld's soup Nazi episode -- is not the place for indecision. 16 kinds of cheeses from American to Epoisse de Bourgogne an Chimay a la Biere. Do you want seared foie gras with truffle oil on your burger? Guacamole? Roasted Bone Marrow with Persillade? I don't even know what that is. There is also a list of specialty burgers if you don't want to decide on options, but that requires you to be smart enough to flip the menu over, which I wasn't. And then the sides... I ordered mac and cheese I'd have slapped my mother for. My sister wouldn't have approved of it though as it had spices in it. Don't go here if you're a vegetarian because the only thing they serve is burger and more burger. A+

Commissary

Commissary -- on P between 14th and 15th downtown -- has been on my list simply for its location since I read about it a while ago. It stuck with me because of its name and the idea it would probably have a little of everything. So on a chilly February Saturday after swimsuit shopping around the corner, when some hunger pangs started panging -- I recommended a 3pm meal at Commissary. The previous tenant of this location was Merkado -- an odd Latin/Asian/I don't-know-what kind of place where I had a birthday at a few years ago. I was served a lamb shank sticking out of a soup bowl like I was Fred Flinstone at a state fair. Merkado was just sucking up good space -- the wrong restaurant for that neighborhood. A fly-in at 3 with no previous plans place like Commissary was perfect. We sat in the corner with a view of the trendy people with afternoons of nothing to do. Our Latin waiter was very helpful and when he didn't know what the answer was -- he went and found out... even though I knew after one bite it was potatoes that made their blueberry pancakes different from the bisquick IHOPy kind. Our neighbor table didn't have the same luck with our same waiter. It was like two different people and we commented to each other on this fact. I started my meal with lentil soup. It was bland and could have used some meat, but after a request for some lemon juice, it brought memories of eating at the Iranian place in Qatar. Lemon juice is the trick for brining out flavors at the last minute in a complex soup. My main dish was a chicken stew with rice. Perfect comfort food, although the bay leaves in it were a bit much. One would have sufficed. I hope Commissary makes it. We need more restaurants like this. The closes alternative I can think of is Busboys and Poets sans bookstore. Both worthy afternoon hang outs.

Ping

I watched Ping with interest as it was built -- the unfinished wood outside making a modern facade on an otherwise mainstreet USA kind of street in Shirlington. My first visit, I didn't make it past the hostess stand as a mean Russian lady (in an Asian Restaurant) curtly tried to shove us to a table. We abruptly declined and I boycotted the place until Friday when an overly lively Guapos next door forced a last minute dinner decision elsewhere. We settled on Ping. While also lively and filled, we didn't have to wait for a table. My only complaint for the evening was the heater under the table was cooking me so Louis kindly switched seats with me. My other Table companions were Rudy and Elliott. Our service was very good. Our Catholic waiter was knowledgeable and expeditions, but not overly expeditious where we felt we were being shoved out the door. I had the honey chicken. It used to be if it had mangos, it was my sure menu choice. Today, it's honey. As with most 'Chinese' food, it filled the hole, but tasted mostly like any other Chinese dish I'd had in the past. I will say the purposely cold and fresh green beans were very tasty. Ping is a little cousin of the Charlie Chang restaurants. I'm not a fan of chains, nor am I a fan of restaurants with sports playing on TVs over the bar -- but I think this one has earned a space on my "I feel like Chinese" list of restaurants. And if I'm in a rush -- there was the take out option with its own entrance, averting any further possible interaction with a mean Russian lady.

Liberty Tavern

Right next to the Clarendon Ballroom is a "bar."  I'm told at night it's very lively.  I've never really hung out in Clarendon though, so I don't know this first hand.  I don't typically go to bars for food.  There are a few exceptions.  So when Monica suggested Sunday Brunch at Liberty Tavern, it fell under the category of "I've never been there so okay."  And what a nice surprise.  First... ambiance.  The place was hopping on a Sunday morning.  Light, airy, warm feeling, with a good layout despite having to negotiate a staircase after loading up from the buffet.  We took a 6 top in the corner in front of floor to ceiling windows on a bustling city street. DeDe, Samantha and Brenda were already there.  The music was fantastic for a Sunday morning - albeit all over the place.  But brunch music that can go from the calm romance of EBTG to tribal dance and back over the course of a meal and still keep my interest helps intertwine the background into the odyssey.  Next -- food.  We showed up at 1130, which is the "I don't go to church and didn't go out last night" appointed brunch time.   The problem with an 1130 brunch is that you really can't eat anything beforehand.  A 1:30 brunch -- I've either eaten pizza at 3am after the club and slept till noon, or I got up, read the paper over coffee and grits.  Either way, I'm probably not starving.  So here we are, 1130, and I am starving.  Now I didn't do my research on this place since I was being taken, so I didn't know it was a buffet.  And the buffet is upstairs so it wasn't obvious.  All I had heard about was the cheese grits and shrimp making me drool for the Fish House brunches of Pensacola.  I'm scanning the menu and DeDe announces she's going for the buffet.  I drop the menu and bolt upstairs -- heading straight for the meat section in the back of a buffet... Restaurants always put the expensive stuff in the back... Salad and bread up front is not accidental.  I skip through the line and pile up on carved turkey, ham, bacon and sausage links... load up on the cheese grits with unfortunate slabs of pork instead of shrimp... some french toast and a slice of veggie frittata.  Now meat isn't hard to screw up... but I applaud the choices.  The grits were fantastic, said the southern boy who speaks with grit authority.  The french toast and frittata were both dry and unpalatable, but didn't ruin the meal.  I tasted DeDe's parsnips, which I wish I were paying attention to the fillers in the front.  Root veggies seem all the rage now.  Desert -- there was a chocolate cake option, but I don't do chocolate.  And mini-pecan pies, which I love some pie -- but the little ones are hard.  Yet for a place that doesn't have an ice cream bar, there was every sort of candy topping you could want.  I went for the dots -- my favorite movie indulgence.  The buffet was adequate yet forgettable.  What was not forgettable though were the spicey $4 bloody marys that come with a beer chaser.  I had 2.  They must use oyster juice in their recipe.  Not everybody does.  I like the added flavor from the juice which is the real discriminator for those who just can't stand a bloody mary.  And to celebrate the inauguration, our waiter served us complimentary tequila shots.  So was this a bar or brunch?  Either way -- the service and ambiance will earn a repeat performance.  I can't say I'll add this place to my menu I call DC -- where I just crave that one dish that they only serve at that one place -- but overall a good experience.

Cucina Vivace

When I lived in Crystal City, I thought 23rd Street was a bit overrun with Italian restaurants.  So it confused me when the sign for yet another place showed a 4th Italian restaurant in a one block span... but unlike the two traditional places and Portofino's Northern Italian fare -- Cucina Vivace promised a more upscale environment and cuisine.  When it first opened, I got to know the place better than I do now and I really appreciated the effort they put into trying.  Their seasonal menus were always packed with interesting flavors and the service was impeccable.  I would brag on their lamb like nothing else -- the combination of rosemary and other spices overwhelmed your mouth.  And if I wouldn't just slap my mother silly during truffle season and the things Vivace would do with those.  But more than a year later, I think the lack of following has gotten the best of Cucina Vivace.  23rd street just isn't the place for a higher end restaurant and I think this one might be failing.  For a Friday night, when all the other restaurants on the street were packed, this one still was empty.  The service was attentive and the ambiance was enjoyable (save the mismatched music for the look and feel of it), but something was still off.  I feel bad for this fledgling restaurant -- that it never took off.  While I enjoyed my meal tonight and my company --  the lamb wasn't as exciting as it was a year ago and I fear Cucina may be complacent as it dies a very, very slow and painful death.  

Bonsai Sushi on 23rd

I've had posh sushi at Nobu in New York.  I've had all you can eat sushi buffets in Las Vegas. I've had Sushi delivered on vespas in Tokyo like we order Pizza. And I've had nouveau Sushi in San Francisco (french fries in it?).  But nothing really beats the hole in the wall neighborhood sushi joint.  The kind of place where you can sit at the sushi bar and talk to the chef -- ask him to make his favorite.  Where the waitress is the same waitress every night of the week -- there's only one -- and she knows that you don't like your green tea ice cream so frozen it'll bend the spoon, so she nukes it for me for 10 seconds before she serves it.  Where... on a sunny day in the summer, you can sit and eat sushi alone on the patio, watching people walk by -- but you're just as comfortable there on a blustery winter night with a close friend in intimate conversation.  This is what I get from Bonsai sushi on 23rd street in Crystal City.  This is place is the definition of a neighborhood restaurant and the Sushi isn't half bad either.

D.C.'s restaurant week waits for inauguration

Washington Business Journal - by Tierney Plumb Staff Reporter

D.C.’s winter edition of restaurant week is getting pushed back to February this year because of the presidential inauguration.
Last year, restaurant week was from Jan. 14 -20. No date has been set for the event.
Keeping in line with last summer’s price increase during the event, signature $30 dinners are no more.
Nearly 200 of the D.C. area’s restaurants will serve three-course dinners for $35.09. Lunch will be $20.09. Drinks, gratuity and tax are not included.
The restaurant week Web site tells visitors to “check back to this site in mid-January for more information.”
Dinner prices were first adjusted during the summer in consideration of the rising food and fuel costs restaurants were facing.
Destination D.C. coordinates the week with the Restaurant Association Metropolitan Washington.
Alexandria is holding its own inaugural restaurant week from Jan. 17-25, with 30 restaurants in the area participating. Most eateries, such as Bastille and Chadwicks Restaurant, will offer a three-course, fixed-price dinner for $35. Others, such as Overwood and King Street Blues, will offer dinner for two for $35.

Aria Trattorioa

While I would like to be a guy who's glass is half full and point out all the wonderful things I experience or see, I'm having difficulty coming up with something for this restaurant experience.  The one positive is that if you're going to National Theater, as we were to see West Side Story, that this restaurant validates free parking in the Reagan building right across the street.  As a matter of fact, that's the primary reason I chose this restaurant, so I shouldn't expect anything else.  If you're affected by negativity, stop reading.  For the rest of us -- this place was terrible!  Aria is the third restaurant to be in this location since Michael Jordan's restaurant left.  It's such a great location, but afflicted by the fact its inside an office building and not 'known.'  location, location, location.  So why was it so bad?  Lets start with the ambiance.  Bland, all around.  There was no vibe.  The people were tourists. The lights were bright and the sound was quiet.  Once sat, the maitre'd immediately insulted my mother.  I'm sure he was just an idiot and didn't mean to basically call her an old bag, but that's the result.  Perhaps it was lost in translation.  I don't know... but he was a moron.  Next... food.  I was happy with how the menu sounded... but don't be fooled.  You'd do better at a hotdog stand.  my Sister ordered the pasta prima vera... which was more like soup in a butter broth.  Butter.  With little veggies swimming in it and some pasta.  Did I mention the butter?  Mine... the pasta bolognese... Bolognese is a red sauce cooked with sausage and meats filled with the flavor of those meats.  This sauce had no flavor.  I could have opened the chef boyardee myself and eaten at home.  The special... Fillet Mignon.  Now, to their credit -- Mom's steak came out very nice and tasted great... she ordered medium.  But because Damon ordered medium rare and his came out well done... they switched.  Mom decided the well done was too done and sent it back. This is a good transition point to talk about the service.  While up to this point the service was ok, at this point, the service went in the crapper.  Our waiter... who was clearly serving a theater crowd on a schedule off their theater menu... never came back!  Could you imagine?  He delivered the desert menu only after prompting... (for which they were out of their advertised theater menu desert), and then didn't return for 7 minutes.  At this point, we were ready to leave, even if we wanted desert.  If I were to return to this restaurant, it would only be for the theater proximity and free parking... I'd go in, order an appetizer off their taster menu for $10.  Validate and leave.  But I think I'd rather just pay the $10 to another close parking garage and eat at home, avoiding the dissatisfaction.

Utopia

For New Year's Eve, I met a group of 6 strangers at a restaurant called Utopia on U St.  The night was freezing and the vibe inside was chill. The bohemian patrons provided a great people watching venue... the couple in formal wear with hipster hair and black fingernail polish.  The overly  tatooed guy at the bar.  The bad Macy Gray doppelganger in the tube top (A tube top in 27 degrees -- not to be crass, but a with chest that would have been airbrushed out on TV... seriously?) This vibe is the only reason I'd consider returning to the restaurant.  Okay, maybe to gawk at the hot bartenders too.  The service was moderate if compared to Applebees.  The drinks were weak. and my medium rare fillet with don't get saucy with me bernaise sauce came out well done.  The saving grace for the evening was the company of these happenstance new friends whose company I thoroughly enjoyed.  Marc, Andrea, Sarat, Missy, Derek and Liz -- Thanks for a great evening!