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.