I have finally compiled the master photo album for the 2nd Annual Birthday Scavenger Hunt! You can find the pictures HERE.
...Hi there...
This is not a political blog, but being in DC on Tuesday night was an historic, moving and amazing place to be.
I was incredibly fortunate to have been on U Street when they announced Obama as the winner. I was a part of the spontaneous crowd that poured into the street, honking horns and dancing on cars. I danced with people I'd never met, smiled at everyone I saw, hugged friends with tears in my eyes.
My second Restaurant Week meal was had at Vidalia. (For the first, click here).Vidalia is a pretty big deal, in my book. It wins awards at a steady clip (along with Central, swoon), the most recent being the James Beard "Best Chef Mid-Atlantic" Award. It has a sterling reputation, and everyone who eats there seems to come away happy. Besides, who doesn't like updated Southern classics, like shrimp and grits or mac 'n' cheese or pecan pie, made with the highest quality ingredients and the very best techniques?
I know for a fact that the restaurant buys at least some of it's ingredients at my beloved Dupont Circle Market. And that the kitchen staff enjoys the pleasures of Hank's Oyster Bar. And while it sounds a bit like I'm stalking head chef Jeffrey Buben, I promise that our paths just seem to trip across each other from time to time.
The usual caveat -- it is totally unfair to judge a restaurant purely on Restaurant Week. Kitchens are rarely at their best and wait staffs are frustrated, overworked and undertipped. That said, I think restaurants that are really excellent at their core tend to do pretty well within the confines of Restaurant Week and Vidalia had about as good of food and service as I could have hoped for.
Of course, the first thing you can't help but notice about Vidalia, as you descend down the front steps, is that it's subterranean. Not a scrap of natural light can enter the dining room, and while that might sound dark or depressing, somehow the room is illuminated softly. A stylish lounge greets you, long banquettes and stark flower arrangements. I got there a touch early, ordered an obscenely expensive glass of champagne at the bar served in a perfect, angular glass and was promptly shown to my table when the three others in my party arrived.
Our service was attentive and patient, sophisticated and also dumbed down for Restaurant Week tourists. My party and I were a fairly savvy bunch, ordering cocktails and wine to let him know that we weren't here on the cheap (just cheaper) and asking his opinion on the best way to proceed.
Vidalia offers the standard three course for $35 Restaurant Week deal but they add an extra option to order a five course meal for $50. That's $10 a course, at a restaurant where you'd be hard pressed to find a starter for that price. And I was totally ready to do it, too, except I was dining exclusively with skinny gays, and they weren't having it. Boo.
Only choosing three courses instead of five made it really hard to choose, but eventually I narrowed it down to a duck egg with fried sweet breads to start, and the pork belly as my entree, and that glorious, glorious lemon chess pie as my dessert.
The duck egg was amazing. Served poached, it had a thick, gooey white and a rich, runny center. It was warm and rich and decadent and had almost a custardy texture. Just as surprisingly good was the sweet bread fried with a light, crispy crust. The salty meat paired perfectly with the rich egg, whose runny yolk made it's own de facto sauce, and the creamy bed (I think of grits?) both were laying on added some heft to the dish. It was delicious.
Having learned my Pork Belly Rule of Thumb only two days prior, I did not make the same mistake twice and promptly ordered the pork belly as my entree. I will admit to being hesitant because it came in a ham broth with peanuts, peas and wheat berries and I thought that sounded weird, but I should have trusted because that broth/sauce was actually better than the pork belly (!). The pork belly was good, don't get me wrong, especially the skin. The skin was crispy crispy glazed fat. The meat at the bottom was soft and flavorful. But the layer of fat in between...am I wrong? Isn't that supposed to get kinda crispy and oozy? I ate the skin and the meat and left the fat on the plate, which is probably some amateur mistake. But the broth was delicious, and the boiled peanuts and the ham and the peas and the chewy wheat berries just all mixed together in a soupy, porky, deliciousness.
And then dessert. If I weren't already dating the Boyfriend, I would marry that lemon chess pie. It was a huge slab of perfectly tart/sweet lemon pie filling. No top crust. No meringue. no shallow tart. This was an enormous, deep dish piece of creamy lemon pie filling. Served with just a dollop of cream and a mixed berries, with a delightful glass of sparkling red muscat it was the perfect sweet end to a really lovely meal.
Everyone else's food looked good too. GFD even let me try his sausage-crusted scallops (!) which were divine, and his goat cheese Bavarian which would be the dessert I married after Lemon Chess Pie and I got divorced. All in all, we had a really great experience and I will gladly save my pennies and return again. Or bribe my way in with farmer's market produce. Either way.
One year ago: Central. Ohyesohyesohyesohyesohyes.
Oh, you don't seriously think I'd sat out Restaurant Week this time around, do you?
Restaurant Week came and went last week (although some places are extending theirs through this week, and still other are extending them for the whole month) and I had two very good meals, at restaurants I normally wouldn't be able to afford.
Today, I'll tell you about 701.
Our meal at 701 was a special occasion meal. A milestone fell during Restaurant Week this year, and the Boyfriend and I opted to eat at 701 where a good friend of ours is a server. Of course I studied up on the menu before even arriving. The website said that they were offering their entire menu for R-week, and I started salivating at the descriptions of foie gras au torchon, glazed pork belly, and chimichurri-glazed Muscovy duck breast.
Unfortunately, once we got to the restaurant, we learned that they did have a separate Restaurant Week menu, and in fact they weren't serving anything off their normal menu. No caviar for us. But their Restaurant week selections were varied and interesting, our service was extremely attentive and the restaurant had a fun and lively atmosphere, complete with live piano mood music.
But romance and atmosphere aside, you want to hear about the food, right? The food was delicious and the menu had an American/Asian fusion vibe. For our first course, the Boyfriend chose wisely and ordered the pork belly. Like an idiot, I decided we couldn't both order the pork belly. But we should have both ordered the pork belly. As a general rule of thumb, when given the option to order a thick, seared, braised piece of bacon, order it. (You will see me apply this rule in my next post).
So, the Boyfriend ordered the pork belly, and I ended up with a crispy tuna roll -- a tempura'ed maki roll -- that while delicious, just wasn't a thick, seared, braised piece of bacon. On their normal menu, 701 offers pork belly as an entree served with pickled cherries and sweet potato puree, and I think I'd like to go back just for that, if nothing else.
Our entrees were great, too. I ordered the duck confit (which, again, as a general rule of thumb when you are given the option to order duck braised in its own fat for hours, you always should). I love duck confit and I scraped my plate clean. The Boyfriend ordered the salmon, which had an Asian twist -- served on a bed of cold rice noodles and cucumber -- and was good, too. He loved the way it was cooked, I thought it was a touch over done for my taste. Which was fine because I was swooning over my duck braised in its own fat.
Finally, for dessert, our waitress had recommended the blueberry creme brulee, which was lovely and packed with real blueberries, though the accompanying lemon tea cookies had a rubbery texture. The Boyfriend ordered a chocolate caramel torte-like item -- so rich he couldn't get through it, but incredibly dark with good cocoa.
As I mentioned, our service was really good -- multiple people were on hand to ensure that we were having a good experience. Of course, much later I found out that it was in part because our friend had added to the reservation that I'm "a famous food blogger." Hey -- until this blog starts paying my bills, I'll take what perks I can! Can I add that in the notes section of my next open table reservation? Or is that boastful?
701 boasts a great outdoor patio that overlooks the Navy Memorial plaza and fountains, a vibrant, colorful interior, and good food. It's a bit on the pricey side, but would be a perfect place for a spending account or a client meal. I'm pretty confident that you'll find me there soon, licking my fingers after enjoying a tasty piece of thick, seared, braised pork belly.
Related: Previous Restaurant Week experiences at Indebleu, Lima, 15 ria, Georgia Brown's, Kaz Sushi Bistro and Butterfield 9 (now closed -- I blame the oyster and scallop stew).
Add Nellie's to the list of fabulous patios for summer time drinking in the out-of-doors. Nellie's, located on U Street a short block up from the African American Civil War Memorial, boasts a gorgeous, spacious rooftop deck replete with Beyonce, two rooftop bars and beers served in buckets.
Downstairs, the two spacious, high-ceilinged rooms are decked out with TVs showing nonstop Olympics coverage , along with enormous portraits of 19th century ladies. Rough brick walls and exposed pipes, colorful Chinese paper lanterns hang from the ceiling and an enormous antique mirror lines the wall behind the main bar.
If this doesn't sound like your typical straight-guy sports bar, that's because it's not. Nellie's caters to the gays of DC, and has become something of a see-and-be-seen place apart from the strip on 17th street.
A couple dozen of us had assembled for Good Friend David's birthday. GFD loves beers, Olympics, gay men, nachos and trivia, so the decision was pretty simple.
On Wednesdays, Nellie's hosts a trivia night, two games of four rounds each. We stayed competitive until the last round, during which we promptly lost it all. Questions ranged from the topical (Olympics) to the gay (Bette Midler) to the downright obscure (Ross Perot's running mate?). A lightning round was comprised of ten second snippets of song covers, and the answer had to list the name of the song and the original recording artist.
But our sorrow over losing was easily abated when GFD was presented with birthday nachos, complete with candle and boisterous singing. The menu at Nellie's is your typical bar food, burgers, wraps, wings, and hot dogs, along with some Mexican specialties (arrapas, empanadas and burritos). I can personally vouch for the mini hot dogs, which I demolished in between rounds 3 and 4 of trivia.
So here's wishing GFD a very happy birthday, as he joins the ranks of the Very Old. Wishing you many more, and lots of occasions to celebrate in the coming years!
Related: Trivia at the Wonderland Ballroom. Wow, that was the first Thing...how far we've come.
You've seen it on The View. You've read about it on the AP. And DC365 is there, at the cutting edge of trend and beauty, to bring you a first hand account of a fish pedicure.
Yes, yesterday I booked a zipcar and brought our intern to Yvonne's Salon, in Alexandria, VA to experience for ourselves the sensation of tiny carp nibbling the dead skin off our feet.
No, I'm being serious. See:
Those are tiny carp, ravenously eating my feet and ankles until only the soft, smooth skin remains.
It feels even weirder than you think.
Somewhere between a pin prick and a gentle massage, alternating between wildly ticklish, calm relaxation, and slightly painful, this is a pedicure unlike any other. Upon arriving, you are escorted to one of four fish tanks, and are instructed to step into it. Immediately, these little fish swarm, going to town on your dead skin, which seems to congregate around the nails and on the heels and ankles. The worst is when one nibbles on the sole, by the arch, which made me squeal it tickled so much.
Each fish pedicure allows for 15 minutes in the fish tank, though by the time I was able to relax enough to enjoy it I wish there could have been more time. The fish were still hungrily eating, and I still had plenty of rough skin for them to take care of. However, most of that was taken care of during the actual pedicure part of the appointment, in which a woman pumiced off the rest of the skin, trimmed my nails, and painted them pale, shiny pink.
If you are a guy and you're looking for a pedicure, this might be for you! More men were getting pedicures than women when I was there. I guess the introduction of flesh-eating wildlife to the pedicure process makes it manly enough for them. They just skipped the color at the end.
A basic fish pedicure costs $45, which is steeper than normal, but worth it at least once just for the crazy experience of having done it. If it were a bit closer to me and didn't require a car to reach, I could see how it would be addicting. Just watching the fish attack your feed provides for endless entertainment. And my soft, smooth feet are a nice end product.
Where oh where has DC365 gone? Don't worry, I haven't packed up and moved to some exotic locale and started LA365 or Boston365 or (sadly) Paris365. And no, I'm not lying dead in a gutter somewhere, but thanks for worrying, Mom. It's just that it's summertime, and when I'm not at work, I'm by the pool or gardening, and frankly, I don't even feel sorry about it.
However, to make up for my prolonged absence, loyal reader, I will be posting a new Thing every day this week. It'll be like NaBloPoMo, except that I won't want to kill myself at the end.
And now, for the first Thing of the week, I'd like to present to you my sandwich that I ate for lunch today. Readers, meet Sandwich:
Yes today, I finally made it over to the fabled sandwich shop Mangialardo's. Though still technically on the Hill, it is just far enough from my office that it is off the radar from places I'd normally go at lunch time. It's a little further up from Pacific Cafe, but not quite as far Trusty's. But today, I had to go to the hardware store at lunch, and while I was up there I found it hard to resist the magnetic pull of Italian cold cuts. So I just kept walking until I reached the small store front.
Mangialardo's is nothing to look at. On a nondescript, slightly run down block, and old faded sign announcing Mangialardo & Sons ITALIAN DELI. Inside, decorations are minimal and seating is nonexistent. Drink coolers run along one wall of the narrow space, and a scattering of Italian canned goods line the shelves of the other wall. At the back, two women take sandwich orders, and behind them, hidden behind a wall, these magical sandwiches are made.
Magical because...well, look at it again:
This is the Italian Cold Cut, their most basic sub. Thick layers of Italian cured pork, a slice of cheese, hot peppers, onions, tomatoes and lettuce on a soft roll. Salty and porky and spicy and sweet, my mouth is still a bit fiery from those canned hot peppers and the black peppercorns from one of the cold cuts.
The clientele knows it's in for a delicious meal -- none of the usual suspects from Congressional offices have made their way this east. Instead, it's a mix of hospital workers and construction workers, teachers and nurses. The cashier, a Mangialardo grandson, seems to know most of them by name, as does the woman taking the sandwich orders. This is an addictive sort of place, that makes for loyal customers.
This place falls just short of the Italian Store, and isn't as good as Salumi (but that isn't fair because Salumi makes the best sandwiches, well, ever). But it's one of the best sandwiches in the District of Columbia, and it's certainly the best within walking distance of my office. If you find yourself nearby, you simply must stop in for lunch.
I love a good sandwich, leave a comment about your favorite sandwich place that I simply must try!
Coming up: Labor Day weekend is fast approaching. See my plan for a Perfect 3 Day weekend.
I didn't want to scoop myself, but I went to Good Stuff Eatery about three weeks ago, and also had breakfast with the chef, Spike from Bravo's Top Chef. You can read all about it, along with some of my musings about celebrity chef-dom by clicking on the link below.
Top Chef's Freewheeling Bad Boy Takes His Turn Onstage
Last weekend, the Boyfriend and I really classed things up by going to a wine tasting at Food Matters. Much like in the movie Sideways, we swirled and sniffed and sipped and declared some wines to be "fruity and bold" and others to be "crisp, light, with hints of citrus and petrol." This is much fancier than our usual Sunday night of laundry and Family Guy, so let me explain.
My coworker knows the owners of this establishment, or else I can't imagine it would have ended up on my radar. Owned by Tom and Christy Przystawik, two chefs who met and married while working in Jose Andres' kitchens, they were looking for a way out of the hectic life of professional kitchens and wanted a bit more freedom to pursue what they loved to do. Food Matters is the product of that love. It's a neighborhood stop, with a sit down menu, take out and prepared foods, a bar, and classes and tasting events. Its customers, several of whom we met at our tasting, seem very loyal to the place, and Food Matters is a true neighborhood meeting place.
It caught my eye when my coworker, on their mailing list, mentioned across the cubicle wall one day "Oh! my friend Christy is doing a wine tasting for Alsatian wines!" My dad is from Alsace, and all his family still lives in that region. I spent summers and Christmases there growing up, and have very very fond memories of the foods and culture. Even though my mom didn't grow up in Alsace, she learned all the best dishes from my dad's mother, and so even when I wasn't in France with my family the smells and tastes of a good choucroute garni, fleishneke, or tarte aux pommes were deeply woven into my childhood.
Alsace is the region of France along the German border, in the North East of the country. Rolling green hills dotted with castles, small villages with broad houses with the signature black wood cross hatch pattern and stork nests on chimneys all make up this beloved province. The food is heavily influenced by its German neighbor; there is pork in everything and they make really good white wines, especially Rieslings and Gewurztraminers.
Those are what we tasted at Food Matters. For $20, we got small tastes of five wines and Alsatian-style snacks.
Tucked in at the front of the store is a room with a long communal table which holds about two dozen people. Each place was set with four wine glasses, each on a place mat that had room to take tasting notes at the foot of each glass. Plates of canapes graced the center of the table. We took our places around the table, and introduced ourselves to the people sitting next to and across from us. Many of them had been there for the prologue to this tasting -- the Alsatian red tasting from couple month previous -- and seemed to have gone to many other such events too. They all knew Christy, and most knew each other.
Christy was our emcee for the evening, pouring the different wines, giving us her interpretations of them, and then encouraging discussion and debate. We tried two Rieslings, one regular and one grand cru, and then debated whether we thought the extra expense was worth it (I thought yes, Boyfriend like the regular one better. Table was pretty split overall). And Christy reassured us that yes, Riesling is supposed to smell like motor oil, if you can believe it. We also tried an Auxerrois, a Muscat and a Gewurztraminer (which was much drier than its German counterpoint).
The snacks were delicious too (although Mom, your onion tart was better!). There were little toasts with blue cheese spread, pork sausages, a ham, cheese and pickle salad and the onion tart that, while good, pales in comparison to my family's version. Christy was even kind enough to mention which snacks paired particularly well with which wines.
Tasting attendees also had the option to purchase the wines we tasted at a slight discount to their normal price point. I ended up buying two bottles, one of which I'm bringing next time my German upstairs neighbors make tarte flambee.
The drawback to this really enjoyable evening? Food Matters is in the middle of nowhere (ok, so West Alexandria is, you know, populated. But for someone without a car, it might as well be on Venus). We took the metro to King Street, and then #8 Dash Bus out near Landmark. So it's not impossible to get there, it just involves some planning and a crossword puzzle to pass the time. Luckily, on our way back, the really nice people sitting next to us offered us a ride to the metro at Van Dorn, which we gladly accepted.
They're doing a tequila dinner next month, and Food Matters has tastings and events all year long. I recommend getting on their mailing list, and next time something catches your eye, make the trip out there. We had a very enjoyable evening, and I think you will too.
In the throes of Capital Fringe and Screen on the Green. Have you been yet?
I must have France on the brain. Join me over at the Cork and Knife, where I continue the theme.
I swear, even before the 'sphere was blowing up with mentions of Granville Moore's, I had made a reservation to go there. Then next thing I knew, everyone was buzzing about Teddy Folkman's solid ass-whupping of Bobby Flay on the food network. And I was scheduled to try those prize winning moules that week! Lucky, lucky me!
Lucky is right. This place is amazing. In fact, if you can arrive at the place (I recommend the 90 or X2), you will be so so glad you ventured to Northeast.
First of all, there are seven dipping sauces for the frites.
Seven. Dipping. Sauces.
I'm gonna let that sink in.
Are you still there? Or are you running not walking to H St, NE? My favorites were the truffle aioli, the horseradish cream and the mango curry. But that is not to say the pesto mayonnaise, mustard seed, garlic ranch and smokey BBQ sauces were bad. They were all very, very good. Our party of six demolished two very large baskets of frites-as-vehicles for sauces in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
Truffle aioli, I dream about you still.
Anyway, all the food was really good. I had the prize-winning bleu cheese, shallots, bacon and spinach mussels. All those things are basically my favorite things in the world, in one big bowl. The best part was when bacon and blue cheese made it into the shell with the mussel, and I could take a bite that was all of them at once. I also got to try my companions' pesto mussels and beer mussels. I think I might have liked the beer broth even better than my own, and I sopped as much up as I could with bread, while still maintaining my signature lady-like restraint and decorum.
Moving on from the food, the beer selection at this place was amazing, too. I think all the beers we sampled were great, but the real hero here was our waitress. Although technically not what you might call a 'good' waitress (she forgot stuff, dropped stuff, and put in at least one order wrong), she was so very friendly and helpful, she nailed every single beer recommendation we asked of her. And we really put her to the test. From the generic ("I like lager") to the specific ("Not hoppy, but bitter and dark") to the apple/oranges variety ("If I tell you I like bold and spicy wines, what kind of beer will I like?"), our waitress was able to recommend a suitable beer for every request. And she doesn't even like beer! She was amazing.
They even have a section of lambic beers, which is what we ended up ordering for dessert. I got a peach one and a couple other people got cherry flavors. Sour and sweet at once, these beers were the perfect cap to a Belgian evening.
The restaurant itself is located on block that is a hipster-island off the coast of Trinidad, on H St, NE, which historically had been a vibrant commercial center back in the days that DC was segregated. It was one of the areas of the city that burned in '68, and while 14th Street and U Street are well on their way now to bouncing back and becoming fully gentrified, H Street has been a bit slower to come around. For whatever reason though, that block is home to such hipster hangout favorites as the Rock n' Roll Hotel, the Red and the Black and the Palace of Wonders.
Granville Moore's is a converted townhouse, which used to be the offices of a local Doctor...Dr. Granville Moore (aha!). It's still homey feeling, with this really neat turret coming off the top floor, and lots of unfinished wood and stone. It was pretty lively when we arrived (still at happy hour), but had calmed down by the time we left (several courses and rounds later).
I still haven't seen the official 'throwdown' episode with Bobby Flay, but I think it's fair to say -- believe the hype. This place is delicious, the staff is friendly and knowledgeable, and I'd like to bathe in the mango curry sauce. If that can't win a throwdown, I don't know what could.
It's tangy. And it's sweet. But what should we call it?...
Judging by the line stretching from the counter to the front door both times I've visited this sparse basement establishment, everyone in the District of Columbia and most of Maryland and Virginia has already visited Tangysweet. Since that's the case, I won't bother with a write-up and have nothing much to write except that I very much enjoyed it, too. If there does happen to be a straggler left in DC who has not partaken yet, let me jump on the band wagon -- Tangysweet is just the perfect way to end a summer evening, after a grilled dinner or a long stroll at dusk.
The basement store front is all concrete and funky lighting and patiently waiting customers. There is a small bench and a couple tables set off to the side, but other than that the store is empty, allowing long lines to queue up through it. At the back are the magical machines that churn up the frozen dessert and a vast toppings bar.
Did I not mention that all this fuss is over frozen yogurt? Yes, it's a soft-serve store, but in the model of New York's Pinkberry it is cultured frozen yogurt. Think Greek yogurt, churned. Low(er) in sugar, lacking in fat and aiding the digestion, topped with some anti-oxidant rich berries and you can almost feel good about enjoying your dessert. (Well, I always feel good about enjoying my dessert, but I understand that some people have some guilt regarding sweets).
There are only three types of yogurt on the menu, plain, pomegranate and green tea. I enjoy the plain, which is a cold and creamy version of Greek yogurt, and the green tea which has a pronounced tang, almost tasting of citrus. The pomegranate runs a bit sweeter, with the slightly astringent bite that comes from the aftertaste of pomegranate seeds. There are also smoothies, which are blended versions of the yogurt and toppings.
But if you're like me, you like soft serve un-blended, with identifiable toppings. The toppings bar at Tangysweet is unique and awesome. There are lots of fresh fruits -- mangoes, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, apples, pineapple -- all fresh and not that gloppy, thickened, overly-sweet 'fruit topping' you find at traditional fro-yo joints. There's also dry cereals -- Cap'n Crunch, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cocoa and Fruity Pebbles and some kick ass granola -- and sweets like chocolate chips, carob chips and toasted coconut. For a couple bucks, you get your choice of three toppings on your yogurt. I admit to being addicted to that granola, and the fresh fruit is puckery and ripe and delicious.
The lighting is neon and funky, changing from green to orange to pink to blue, and providing some atmosphere as you wait for your yogurt. It still doesn't have quite enough fat to compete with Dolcezza or Larry's, but it is strangely addictive and craveable. If you're the last person in DC to check this place out, believe the hype. It's worth the line, worth the wait, and a welcome addition to Dupont Circle.
Where was I for Pride weekend? Why, at the parade, of course! Huddling under an umbrella, cheering Fenty’s smart car, and applauding PFLAG along with everyone else. The rain put a, er, damper on things, but as usual it was a gay time, in both the new and old meanings of the word.
But the highlight, oh the glorious great part of Pride weekend for me was a showing of Straight Jacket , starring the silver screen diva herself, Joan Crawford, outdoors on the lawn of the Hillwood Estate & Museum as part of their LGBT "Divas of the Screen" series.
First of all, I think we all know how much I love an outdoor movie.
Second of all, the Hillwood Estate is an absolutely gorgeous place to watch a movie outdoors. Far less crowded than the Mall, and much smaller so that you can really see well no matter where you sit. If you can locate and arrive at the place (which I had a lot of difficulty doing…it is near the Czech embassy, but not quite its neighbor) you are treated to a pristine lawn, old growth trees, an expansive view of the sky, and ample manicured gardens with fountains and koi fish and small bridges that lead over ponds.
Third of all, they supply you with FREE (!) bug spray. So long, West Nile Virus!
Of course, the best part is that you get to watch a movie with 300 of your closest gay girlfriends. There was a contest for the best picnic spread, judged before dark, so the spreads were queer-eyed-out. We're talking candelabra, floral arrangements, cake plates with decorated cupcakes, and enough gourmet cheeses to open up a specialty shop. In comparison, our spread of chickpea salad, tatziki and grapes was downright sad. There was also a Joan Crawford lookalike contest, which was won by a rather skeletal version of the lady. And, if things weren't gay enough for you yet, there was a proposal, on the lawn in front of the crowd, with one man down on one knee asking for the other's hand in marriage! A perfect, picturesque setting for a declaration of love, including plastic axes in the background as an homage to the flick we were about to see.
And what a movie! Joan Crawford, in all her glory, is an ax wielding murderess! The heads pop off like champagne corks! She makes an entrance, and the crowd goes wild! (And not a few shout "No! Wire! Hangers!"). The plot, in a nutshell, is that Joan Crawford murdered her husband and his mistress in a really gruesome/campy ax murderer/diva way, and then 20 years later is released from the asylum to rejoin her daughter who is living a wholesome life on a farm in California. Hilarity/horror ensues, and even though it is one of the campier movies I've ever seen, I did at one point whisper to my companion "I understand this movie is terrible, but darn it, I'm nervous! Don't go in there!" and then inevitably, the good natured doctor would walk into a dark room and the door would close and the glint of the ax would shine.
The other movies in the series were great too, How to Marry a Millionaire and Funny Face. Keep an eye out for this series next summer, and have yourself a gay old time.
Join me over at the Cork & Knife to read about a new social networking site for locavores.
I looked up from our many small, empty plates and remembered that, oh, yes, I was at the crowded bar at Oyamel. I had spent the last 20 minutes so thoroughly focused downward at the great array of flavors in front of me, it was quite surprising to realize that I was surrounded by life and noise, glasses clanging and loud laughter.
I have always loved Oyamel, since its days in Crystal City through my numerous visits to its new incarnation in Penn Quarter. From that very first visit years ago, the staff was helpful in recommending their favorites, the guacamole so good I'd like to put it in my pocket, the drinks are delicious if a touch expensive, and the warm surroundings let you feel comfortable and relaxed. I once met a friend at Oyamel for 'a drink'; we arrived at 6:00 and were so taken care of we ended up staying for the next six hours, graciously taken care of by our bartender and the small sustaining plates coming out of the kitchen. I have only ever ordered one thing from Oyamel that I didn't like, and I'm pretty sure that is because it turns out I don't like cactus -- hardly the kitchen's fault. At Oyamel, even the cricket tacos are delicious.
I should not be surprised -- this kitchen belongs to the vast tapas empire of Jose Andres, chef of Jaleo, Atlantico, Zaytinya and MiniBar, student of Ferran Adria of El Bulli and the latest darling of Bravo TV. Andres makes small plates, and no matter their twist -- Spanish, Mexican, South American, Greek or Turkish -- they are always tasty and flawlessly executed, served by a caring and knowledgeable staff. Oyamel focuses on Mexico and amidst the margaritas with sea 'foam' and guacamole made table-side in a stone mortar is arguably the best Mexican cooking in DC.
I grew up in California, and I love a fat a burrito or a roadside taco better than most. I know that Oyamel isn't the Mexican food to be found in dinghy holes in the wall in the Mission district. But this classed-up, tapas-style Mexican might be even better. The squash blossoms stuffed with goat cheese and served with tomato, olive and caper sauce practically dared us to lick the plate, and delicate scallop ceviche puckers with grapefruit and cilantro oil. Spicy shrimp are grilled with salsa negra that left our mouths pleasantly on fire. And if you're looking for more of that street-food vibe, they have a full taco bar where you can indulge in cricket tacos, wild mushroom with soft guacamole tacos, duck confit, BBQ'ed pork, beef tongue and many others. All of them are delicious.
Desserts here are first class, although this last time around I couldn't order it after I overdid it on the 'taco course.' I particularly like their tres leches cake, which comes with thinly sliced fresh pineapple and homemade pineapple preserves.
Located around the corner from Woolly Mammoth, across the street from the Bead Museum, in the heart of the Fringe Festival, and pretty much at the center of everything, Oyamel is one of the surest dining options in the always-hopping Penn Quarter. I simply cannot recommend it enough, and with such a long menu of small plates, there is always something new to try, something unexpected and wonderful.
Last year, I wrote about the top five things I was looking forward to doing in DC over the summer. Now, with the Memorial Day holiday behind us, it is time to look forward to an expanded list of summer activities. Some are carry overs, one is now defunct (The Hotel Washington roof top bar), and the others are new additions for you to enjoy.
The DC365 Top 10 Things To Do This Summer
#10 AFI Silver Theater and the E Street Cinema: When I need to beat the oppressive heat, I like to head indoors to the air conditioned coolness of the movies. Both of these independent/art house theaters feature movies a bit off the beaten path, from documentaries to indy films to retrospectives of a director or actor. They also have fancy snacks, like good dark chocolate and micro-brewed beers.
#9 The Hirshhorn Museum: If paying $10 to see a movie every time you start sweating isn't really your thing, then check out any one of our free and cultural Smithsonian Museums. The Hirshhorn happens to be my favorite, with its cutting edge visiting exhibits that always make me think and wonder. But with everything from African art to Dorothy's slippers to dinosaur bones, there is something for every taste.
#8 Larry's Homemade Ice Cream: Here is what I wrote last year: "Although this is highly debatable, I'm convinced that the best ice cream in the city can be found at the little underground shop on Connecticut Ave in Dupont, Larry's Homemade. The shop is nearly as old as I am, and as the name implies, all of the creative and fabulously flavored ice creams are homemade. Along with the normal flavors, they've created more exotic ones, including Key West, ecstasy, Fred and Ginger, rum raisin (with real booze) or haluah (named for the Syrian candy of honey and sesame paste). I keep meaning to try something different, but I absolutely cannot resist their oatmeal cookie dough flavor, with big chunks of oatmeal cookie dough and chocolate chips in a cinnamon flavored ice cream." This all still holds absolutely true.
#7 Dolcezza Argentine Gelato: In the comments to last years Top 5, C mentioned an Argentine gelato shop with such exotic flavors as lime cilantro and lemon basil. Well, I can now whole-heartedly add this fine shop and its wears to the list. They also sell their gelato at the Dupont Farmers' Market and, on a personal plug, at ACKC Cocoa Bar, where you can also find me stirring up chocolate on the weekends.
#6 Margaritas at Lauriol Plaza: I went back and forth on this one, but I think in the end, Lauriol Plaza's rooftop margaritas are, in fact, quintessentially DC. You have the skinterns with their fake IDs, the outrageous wait time for crappy enchiladas and plenty of delicious frozen margaritas to keep you cool. It's not the best restaurant, but it's where you'll find, well, everyone during the hottest months. For something a bit different, you should check out the rooftop at the Straits of Malaya across the street, which has an equally enjoyable roof deck and delicious Malay food.
#5 Theodore Roosevelt Island: I haven't been here since my Close Up trip to DC in the eleventh grade, but I am looking forward to revisiting it this summer with a picnic and a good book in tow. I think there even may be a way to canoe over to the place.
#4 The Capital Fringe Festival: As I wrote last year, the DC Fringe Festival makes DC a better place to live and visit. For two weeks in July, live theater is performed for free or on the cheap at dozen venues all across the city. Some shows are terrible, others are wonderful and it's nearly impossible to know in advance which one yours will be, but that's part of the fun, isn't it? And it adds to DC's status as a world class city, joining the ranks of San Francisco and Edinburgh as a place for local, small or experimental theaters to try out their chops.
#3 See the Nats play: The new stadium, which I had the pleasure of visiting for the first time last week and is but a short walk from my office, is fabulous. The seats are all good, the food and drink is mostly local, including Ben's Chili Bowl and the Cantina Marina, and everything is still shiny and new. The Nats may be pretty terrible this year, but few things are as summery and American as a cold beer and some peanuts at the ballpark.
#2 Wolftrap: Except when it's raining, this is still my second favorite place to be in the summer time. Get a lawn seat and bring a picnic, maybe some wine, plenty of water and some bug spray and enjoy a sweaty, humid evening under the stars listening to anything from zydeco to opera to pop to show tunes. Important -- bring an umbrella just in case.
#1 Screen on the Green! Forever and always, my most favorite summer activity in this city.
This Thing is totally not a unique-to-DC-thing. You see, since 1984 the humorous and zany minds of Dave Barry, Gene Weingarten and Tom "the Butcher" Shroder have been running the Tropic Hunt in Miami, Florida. So there is an equally frustrating and insane race that goes on yearly in Miami. But in 2008, with two of the triumvirate working for the Washington Post magazine now, they decided to stage one locally.
Now, I LOVE a scavenger hunt. I love puzzles and dares and races. I love solving clues. So of course I braved the impending storm and met up with two friends at the site of the old convention center to partake with several thousand others in what turned out to be an infuriatingly difficult afternoon. I stand in awe of all those able to complete the five main clues, let alone the end game.
I won't give you the play by play -- those are available here. I will say that I was astute enough to figure out the first two puzzles we attempted (both the fortune cookie one, and the President's race one), and then I completely fell apart. I desperately outsmarted myself at each turn, trying to come up with huge elaborate patterns and math problems when usually, the answer was just a clever pun. Of course, I blame Dave Barry.
Finally, in order to solve the 'endgame' and win the whole caboodle, you had to have solved the first five puzzles correctly, and then basically be a mind reader, as Dave, Gene and Tom lead you through a series of logical leaps that I can't imagine actually solving. And yet, at least three teams solved the whole thing to win prizes. Which, as Dave Barry reassured us, shouldn't make us feel bad. It just means we're stupid.
No trip to Miami for me this year...but a few hints for those who may want to participate next year:
It's no secret that my love and my life are in the District of Columbia. Still there are some things I miss about growing up in the Bay Area. Fog. The ocean and the Golden Gate and the beaches you have to wear sweatshirts too. Ancient redwood trees. Abundant and cheap avocados. And of course, the Saturday dim sum brunch.
Well, there's still no Golden Gate Bridge on this end of the country, but by God, I can enjoy my Saturday dim sum brunch once again.
For those not lucky enough to grow up in a place where dim sum is common, it is basically all the very best dumplings, noodles, vegetables and fried foods that China has on offer, then placed on steam carts and brought by your table. The cart pushers try to sell you what's on their cart, and if it looks good, you order just as many as you want right then. They keep a tally of dishes at your table and when you can't possibly stuff one more sticky pork bun into your belly, they total your bill.
When it is done well, it is a veritable shellfish and rice wrapper orgy, with sticky rice and Chinese broccoli and BBQ pork clamoring for a turn. It is one hundred and one flavors and ingredients all climbing over each other to get your attention, and it is loud and anarchic and terribly fun.
At Mark's Duck House, hallelujah!, it is done well. It's still not quite as good as my very favorite in San Francisco (shout out: Ton Kang at 25th and Geary!), but it more than satisfies my cravings for sweet sesame balls and turnip cake.
Going to a strip mall in Falls Church may not seem like the most promising start, but just as the Eden Center yielded untold glories, this place is so worth going out of your way to find. When we walked in, we were greeted by a row of hanging ducks, and two whole pigs fried with crispy skin. As the morning wore on and we kept ordering exotic and known dishes, large Asian families filled all the tables, enjoying a leisurely Saturday brunch.
We ate and ate -- shrimp dumplings, scallop dumplings, duck and baby bok choi and Chinese broccoli. I tried bitter melon for the first time (newsflash: it's bitter), and I swear to you, the Boyfriend ordered a plate of chicken feet. Admittedly, he thought he was ordering 'chicken fingers', which is technically what he ended up with. It turns out, chicken feet are one of those dishes where really, it's all about the sauce. There's not much meat there, but they're steeped in a sweet/smokey sauce that is delicious.
And when it was all over? When I pretty much had eaten myself into a delicious and unavoidable food coma? And even then had ordered sesame balls with that thick, gelatinous, sweet sesame paste inside because I always need dessert? Our bill was $15 per person.
Now if only I could find some local avocados...
One year ago: Embassy Open House Day
Join me over at the Cork & Knife! This week, garlic-y pea shoots...
Well, my vision of "patio week" fell a bit shy, but I need to tell you all about another patio that I just love, so think of this more as a "patio installment." As always, chime in with your favorites for drinking outside!
The Helix Hotel has a fabulous and funky bar with neon lighting, white pleather, candy martinis and a gorgeous deck where one can sip cocktails beneath Christmas lights and enjoy a breezy or humid evening.
Helix is actually my local -- I alternate going there with Stoney's depending on whether I'm in the mood for grit or glitter -- but most of the clientele are actually staying in the hotel and so are different every time. Its one of the things I really like about the place -- whereas Stoney's provides a reliable cast of neighborhood regulars, you never quite know who you might encounter at Helix. Business travelers, German tourists, bachelor parties, they all rotate through. You will often find yourself in conversations with all sorts of interesting or obnoxious people and sometimes it can even be quite pleasant.
The staff are always wonderful, which is another reason I really like the place. The bartenders and waitresses are all quick to refill your drink, make conversation and just generally take care of you -- I've befriended quite a few of them, and they are all nice people.
The decor and the drinks are all neon and funky. Over sized pillows in bold prints, white pleather banquettes, lighting that changes from green to pink to blue. The martinis mimic the scenery in all different shades of pastel. I'm a fan of the 'pajama party' myself, which comes in pale green and tastes just like a gummy worm. Their newest drink, the Mango Sex, was created by a friend of mine in a drink contest recently held by Helix. The mango juice, triple sec and coconut rum concoction beat out my entry of watermelon juice and lemon vodka. Ask for the sweet and cool Mango Sex when you stop by.
And finally, there is that glorious patio. It's more of a deck, in a courtyard in the hotel, and there are all manner of plastic deck chairs, wooden benches and tall, metallic chairs and tables. Eclectic, mismatched Christmas lights are strung up above the deck for mood lighting, but otherwise it is cool and dark, comfortable and homey. Because rooms of the hotel look out onto the courtyard, the deck does close at midnight.
Enjoy this beautiful spring evening with a martini, some pink lights and white pleather, and a bit of fresh air.
One Year Ago: Sushi Taro
Coming Up: Embassy Open House Day
It's patio weather.
Oh yes, after teasing, taunting and fluctuating, it is finally gorgeous out. Sunny, warm, not humid and with a cool breeze in the evenings. Which means you'll find me on a patio.
This week, I'll be trying and testing and writing about some great patios to drink, eat or sit with a book and I encourage you to pipe in with your favorites and with suggestions for the rest of us to try out ourselves.
Starting with...the rooftop bar at Marvin! Marvin, a new Belgium-meets-soulfood eatery on the heavily visited corner of 14th and U Streets, NW, has a fantastic covered rooftop bar and deck. Though open all year, this spot excels in the late spring/early summer when the weather is mild and cold beers hit the spot.
If you like beer, Marvin is a treat. There are a number of different Belgian beers on tap for all different tastes, wheat or light, ales and stouts and even fruit flavored beers. Though the bar was pretty busy on the night I went, the bar staff was very friendly and approachable -- I didn't find myself waiting and waiting.
The main section of the deck is covered with a canopy, protecting drinkers from those unexpected summer showers, and there is a large open air deck adjacent. The bar's patrons seemed, well, nice. Smartly dressed without being pretentious, a happy smiling mix of folks. Unfortunately, the view is of the back of the Ellington Condos -- not a great. Overall, I had a really fun evening at Marvin and can't wait to go back for some more open air frivolity. I also wouldn't mind sitting down to dinner and trying out some moules-frites...
friends to the White House.
We circled the South Lawn and listened to the Navy band play. We spied the presidential 
swimming pool through the bushes, passed the tennis court and the putting green. We walked on the runners track that Clinton had installed around the lawn. And just when we thought the presidency was just about a sweet home and abundand leisure activities, we were able to see the Cabinet Room and the Oval Office from the outside.
We waited in line to see the Children’s Garden, which Mrs. Johnson had installed – a quiet, 
reflective area with a fish pool and the hand prints of all the presidential grandchildren. Seeing all those Bush grandkids (Barbara and Jenna are in there, as the grandkids of Bush the elder) it really starts to dawn on you – they’re not growing a dynasty, they’re creating an empire!
Truly, it was an honor and a privilege to see the White House from so close, and walk the garden paths that such powerful and important people have walked before us. I want to thank our patron, who suggested it and allowed us to cut the queue, and I want to encourage all of you to give me suggestions of other places to try out…and if you can throw in some free passes, all the better!
Poor George Mason. The forgotten founding father. Oh sure, he has a university in his name, but where oh where is his memorial? Lincoln sits stately in his marble palace. George Washington’s phallus towers over the skyline. Jefferson keeps watch over the Tidal Basin beneath his dome. Rappers lament their lack of “Benjamins, baby,” an homage to Franklin’s perch on the $100 bill.
Don’t fret, Mason lovers! Six years ago, your man Georgie got his due, with a small memorial tucked away near the Jefferson along the banks of the Tidal Basin. We stumbled upon it last weekend when were returning from a picnic beneath the blossoms.
It is a small and peaceful place. A small reflecting pool surrounded by flowers. Words from the Virginia Declaration of Rights, which was used as the blueprint for the Bill of Rights, are carved into the marble walls. A large bronze statue shows Mason in contemplative relaxation. He sits under an awning, his cane resting on the bench, legs casually crossed, looking out into the distance with a finger holding the place in his book. He’s about twice the size of a real person, dressed in knickers and a cravat, looking like a person who is about to found a nation.
I've been sitting on this one for about ten days which is a big no-no, especially when writing about a meal, because little details start to slip away. What did the wine taste like? How was the soup? I remember that I liked the cheese, but why did I like it so much?
So forgive my faulty memory and let me say simply that the Majestic Cafe on King Street in Alexandria is really lovely, with fantastic food and extremely knowledgeable and attentive service. The Boyfriend and I had a long, relaxed dinner date and lacked for nothing, enjoying ourselves tremendously.
Briefly, because some of the details are starting fuzz out on me, we started with cocktails. The Boyfriend got a maple syrup and bourbon deal, which was a bit strong and sweet for my liking, and I got a champagne cocktail that tasted like lemonade.
We split an appetizer of local oysters, lightly fried and draped with a lemon aioli. We know they are local because when I asked their origin (I tend to prefer Pacific oysters, which I've learned through extensive experimentation at Ebbitt's) our lovely waiter told us that he wasn't entirely sure, but the man who harvested them lived near enough somewhere in Virginia to drive them to the restaurant himself, which sure meets any local and sustainable food requirements you may have of your appetizer.
My entree is where things really got exciting. I ordered a whole trout fillet persillade, which seems to mean dusted in parsely and bread crumbs and lightly sauteed, then placed over a compote of fennel and orange that I long for still (and have tried to replicate without success so far) and served with a side of brussel sprouts sauteed with fat bits of smokey bacon. You have never dreamed that brussel sprouts could taste so good.
The Boyfriend got the Chesapeake fish soup, which had big hunks of shrimp, scallop, mussels and white fish, a thin tomato broth and celery and fennel. It was (over)seasoned with Old Bay and a bit salty, but overall quite enjoyable.
And finally...dessert! Majestic, which is owned by the same couple that cook at Restaurant Eve, Eamonn's and the PX, shares a pastry chef with Eve and you must leave room for dessert. After considerable debate, I went with the cake of the day, forgoing a caramel lemon tartlet that I must go back for someday. The cake of the day was too good to resist, three layers of soft white cake, with vanilla pastry cream between the layers and iced in chocolate ganache. The Boyfriend ordered the cheese plate, which had some lovely cheeses (which I can't remember anymore, but I believe the blue was particularly good) as well as some homemade accompaniments, including some pretty great candied cashews.
It was a really great meal and our service made it better. I want Dave (no relation) to get all the praise he is due, for he was attentive to our needs without being annoying, and really knowledgeable of the whole menu and the wine. He helped us pick out a really perfect, light pinot noir to go with our seafood dinner. In addition to his help about the oysters, he guided me towards choosing my winner of an entree, and when The Boyfriend mentioned there was a heavy hand with the Old Bay in the soup, he took it very seriously and promised to relay it back to the kitchen. I'm sure that all the staff are trained to the same high level of service and that this is part of the appeal of the place.
It's meant to be a neighborhood joint, though it is a touch pricey to eat there often. But the food is homey and the open kitchen in the back of the restaurant is fun to watch. I hope you will enjoy it as much as we did.
Coming Up: Cherry Blossom Picnic
