Texas State Fair Pecan Pie

Not cooking anything for Thanksgiving didn’t really leave me satisfied. Sure, it was much more restful than it has been in previous years, but I felt like something was missing after the weekend started to roll on and I still had not made anything. After I was invited to have dinner with a few friends, I volunteered to make a pie because I just couldn’t take it anymore. Although I looked through recent years’ Thanksgiving food magazines, I had been craving pecan pie ever since I didn’t see it on Blue Duck Tavern’s Thanksgiving dessert menu, so my mind was pretty much made up on what to bake. The only question, which version? I found this one in a November 2007 Food & Wine, along with the description that sold me on it: “This extraordinarily rich and sweet dessert was the winner at the 1996 State Fair of Texas State pie competition, which Dean Fearing helped judge. “‘Out of 140 pies, this one was it,’ he says. “Her name was Bobby Lee; she never told me her last name.”‘

The recipe requires a 10 inch pie dish, and I think mine must have been a little smaller, because the filling seemed to just about overflow over the edge of the dish. I cooked the pie for a full hour as opposed to the recommended 45 minutes, and it still didn’t really set in the center. I guess I could have cooked it longer, but I was worried about the edges burning.

This pie is riiiiich, sweet, and really, really filling. Think super dense, super gooey, super nap-inspiring. The crust is also fantastically light and flakey, a good balance against the decadent filling.

Texas State Fair Pecan Pie
(original recipe Food & Wine November 2007)

Ingredients
Pie Shell
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 stick plus 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch dice
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon ice water

Filling
1 1/2 cups pecan halves (51/2 ounces)
1 1/2 sticks cold unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups dark brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup light corn syrup
3 tablespoons whole milk
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 vanilla bean, split, seeds scraped
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs

Directions
Make the pie shell: In a food processor, pulse the flour with the sugar and salt. Add the butter and pulse until it is the size of small peas. Add the ice water and pulse until the pastry is evenly moistened. Turn it out onto a work surface and knead 2 or 3 times, just until it comes together. Form the pastry into a disk, wrap in plastic and refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350°. On a lightly floured surface, roll out the pastry 1/8 inch thick; transfer into a deep 10-inch glass pie plate and trim the overhang to 1/2 inch. Fold the edge of the pastry under and crimp the edges. Prick the bottom with a fork in a few places. Freeze for 30 minutes.

Line the pie shell with parchment paper and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for about 25 minutes, or until lightly browned around the edge. Remove the paper and weights and bake the shell for 15 minutes longer, or until it is lightly golden. Leave the oven on.

Meanwhile, make the filling: In a pie plate, toast the pecans for 8 minutes, or until lightly browned. Let cool.

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter. Add the brown sugar, granulated sugar, corn syrup, milk, flour, vanilla seeds and salt. Cook over moderate heat just until the mixture comes to a boil. Remove from the heat and let stand for 5 minutes.

In a heatproof bowl, lightly beat the eggs. Gradually whisk in the hot sugar mixture until thoroughly blended. Spread the toasted pecans in the bottom of the pie shell and pour the filling on top. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until the center is just barely set and the crust is golden brown. Transfer the pie to a rack to cool completely. Serve with unsweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

Thanksgiving Dinner at Blue Duck Tavern

Blue Duck Tavern
24 and M Streets, NW
Washington, DC 20037

Nothing puts me in the Thanksgiving spirit quite like spending all week cooking. Last year I hosted Jay’s family for one of the best and most memorable Thankgivings I’ve had, and I spent a solid 2 days standing up in the kitchen cooking. Some might call this tiring, some might call it torture, but the days of non-stop cooking and preparing were some of my favorite. I could plan my own menu, roast my own turkey, bake my own bread, and gladly feed the results of my labor to my extended family.

Last year was my first turkey, but this year brought another first: the first Thanksgiving without any visiting family. It was hard, I didn’t like it, but it was decidedly more relaxing. It never really felt like Thanksgiving because I didn’t make anything, but it let me enjoy my couch a lot more, and I got to spend a lot of time with just Jay.

Rather than cooking just for 2 this year, I made reservations at Blue Duck Tavern after reading an article in Bon Appetit magazine about the best restaurants in the country for Thanksgiving dinner out. Jay and I had visited Blue Duck over the summer for an anniversary dinner, so I knew it was good, and I thought, why not? Already this Thanksgiving wasn’t going to be traditional, so why not let someone else do the cooking?

Blue Duck Tavern serves most of its dishes family style in large copper dishes, and you spoon your own portions onto your plate. This friendly and interactive mode of presenting food is somewhat reminiscent of a traditional Thanksgiving, so it was comforting to eat a dinner away from home in this setting. To add to the comfort and familiarity of the meal, the furniture in the restaurant is more rustic than fine, with thick wood tables and wooden Amish chairs. The kitchen itself almost merges into the dining room, with no walls to divide the cooks from their patrons. It’s almost if the cooking staff wants to include its diners in the preparation of their own meal, and remind them that a good Thanksgiving meal can be made by someone else.

My first course was a salad of sautéed brussel sprouts, mushrooms, and carrots in a creamy sauce with a parmesan crust. Although the sauce was rich, the vegetables were delicately prepared and cooked  just enough to bring out their flavors without becoming mushy or bitter. The crisp on top was also very light, and the flavors of each component retained their independence while also working together with each bite.

Jay’s salad was a little more deconstructed: roasted quince, mix green salad, gorganzola cheese, and fresh-made brioche. Again, each element of the dish had a strikingly individual character, but brought together the flavors played one after the other in the mouth, starting with the sweet quince and rounding out with the deeply creamy Gorgonzola.

There’s nothing quite like my mom’s turkey and gravy, so it’s unfair to expect even Blue Duck turkey to live up to that near-perfect expectation. The turkey at Blue Duck was alright, nice and moist, but it wasn’t the rosemary and herb infused southern style turkey that I grew up on. At least the white meat. The turkey leg was presented almost like turkey bbq, pulled off the bone and minced, soaking in giblet gravy, and excellent twist on the tradition.

Rather than have two servings of turkey, Jay decided to go with the braised beef rib. Served on the bone, the rustic presentation was in contrast to the buttery, melt-in-your-mouth texture of the beef.

For the side dishes, we tried to stick to both the simple and familiar. Of course, at Blue Duck nothing is really “simple,” but for example we opted for garlic and chive mashed potatoes over a sweet potato gratin or fingerling potatoes with bone marrow (which part of me was screaming to order). Other side dishes included a tart and chunky cranberry and orange sauce, croissant stuffing with pears and sausage, and creamed spinach.

Cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes

Creamed spinach

Dessert also centered around the traditional and familiar: apple pie and vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. It was almost as dessert should be, with simple yet powerful ingredients that brought back countless years and memories of family and other holidays.  And, unsurprisingly, each dessert was phenomenal. The crust on the apple pie was so light it almost crumbled just by looking at it, while the apples were tart and firm. You can’t get much better than fresh made ice cream, and the chocolate sauce was so thick that you couldn’t pour it out, you had to spoon it onto your ice cream. Think less of sauce and more like viscous fudge.

Apple pie

Nothing can replace a Thanksgiving meal with family and time-tested recipes, but the Blue Duck Tavern did a good job of making us feel at home and giving us a good time.

Barton Seaver to be named Chef of the Year by Esquire

Glover Park restaurants have been struggling. Within the past year, at least 4 have closed their doors, moved, or completely reworked their menu. Yes, this year has also brought us Surfside, Z Burger, and Bruegers Bagels, but we lost Margarita’s Mexican, a solid place for good takeout, Busara moved away, Ceviche closed and reopened as Kitchen (a welcome change, Ceviche was highly overrated with mediocre-at-best food and a nearly non-existent wine list, especially for a self-proclaimed wine bar), and just the other week Pizza Hut shut its doors. The plague of boarded up restaurants extends beyond just this year, however, and it’s hard to miss the papered-over windows and empty buildings that spot our small stretch of Wisconsin. Not only has Glover Park been losing restaurants, but it’s been losing the sole purveyors of specific cuisines. Yeah sure, you can walk up or down Wisconsin to find Mexican, Italian, or Thai, but these places used to be in our neighborhood, and now they’re gone.

I was pretty unhappy when our local Thai restaurant Busara moved away. No longer could I stroll down the street from my apartment for some good, spicy curry or satisfying noodles. Now, I need to make a trek. Nearly every day, I walked past an empty, lonely, and dark building, staring into the vacant interior with the longing hope that something else would come to fill the space.

I waited.

Then, finally, little by little, things began to change. The “Busara” metal lettering and purple neon was removed from the exterior of the building. Boxes began to pile up behind the large glass doors. The exterior was completely altered and repainted. A logo appeared on the side of the building.

Needless to say, I was very excited when Blue Ridge first opened. I didn’t know much about the chef, Barton Seaver, but I knew he came from Hook, a heralded seafood restaurant in neighboring Georgetown. This fueled my anticipation, along with the concept for the restuarant and the long, wooden, old-looking bar that stretched away from the entrance. A new restaurant in the neighborhood, and a classy one at that? Yes please, sign me up.

And then it did open, and lo, the critics spoke.

Todd Kliman, from The Washingtonian: “The biggest disappointment is that Seaver’s flavors are timid: The redeye gravy that comes with fried eggs and a biscuit has no soulful punch, while an appetizer of fingerling-potato halves stuffed with the same pimiento cheese was bland.” As for the mission of the restaurant: “Blue Ridge is strong on the issues. But so far at least, there’s more to admire than desire.” The caption to the picture on the review states, “The serene patio at Blue Ridge, in DC’s Glover Park, aims to soothe the nerves. But the fashionably unfashionable cooking falls short of transporting.”

Tom Sietsema, from The Washington Post: In his review entitled, “It’s Downhill at Blue Ridge,” Sietsema writes that it sometimes tastes like the chef is overcommitted. “Count me among the disappointed diners.” He was surprised, “even a month after launch, to find [himself] pushing away some of the food he and his charge, chef John Murphy, were offering.” As for specific items of food, some things just don’t live up to expectations. “The most Southern notion, sweet potato fritters, sounds enticing, but the fried marbles turn out to be pasty in their centers, with an aftertaste reminiscent of underdone doughnuts. No thanks.” Furthermore, even though the “vegetable potpie sounds promising,” Sietsema knocks this promise away: “Four small rosemary-buttermilk biscuits provide a top crust, a clever idea that gets erased by your first taste of the filling. It’s a pale-yellow glue that is not quite solid, not quite liquid and definitely a waste of good vegetables.” The service gets inconsistent reviews as well.

Tim Carman from The Washington City Paper: “Yes, I understand the connection that Blue Ridge is making … What I don’t understand is why Blue Ridge’s kitchen can’t seem to cook those farm-to-table ingredients any better. I’ve visited Blue Ridge on three occasions now, and every time, the kitchen has screwed up one preparation or another. Once it was the bluefish, grilled into an almost moisture-less block and served with an overly bitter  mint-pecan pesto (which has since been ditched). Another time it was an heirloom tomato salad, served with bitter frisee and funk-forward smoked cheddar croutons, the entirety of which was salted as if the kitchen were trying to preserve the thing. Then there was the grilled pork loin, practically raw on one side and approaching medium on the other, or the broiled Rappahannock oysters that were drowning under a sea of herbs.”

Given this kind of criticism, you might not think that the food coming out of this kitchen would earn the head chef many accolades, especially not something like, oh, let’s say Esquire Magazine’s “chef of the year,” or that the restaurant itself would be the best of the nation.

And there you would be wrong. In November, Esquire Magazine will name Seaver chef of the year.

Jane Black, also of The Washington Post, who congratulated Seaver in her All We Can Eat blog article last week for being named Esquire’s “chef of the year,” stated that she was impressed by “Seaver’s vision and sensible sustainability.” Although she quotes Esquire Magazine’s food critic John Mariani for praise of the food itself, Black herself never even comments on the food, only offering good words for Seaver’s advocacy for sustainability. It seems that ideas, purpose, and advocacy alone can get you named chef of the year. Forget about that whole cooking thing.

The news has sparked a debate on city food forums, including The Washingtonian’s Best Bites Blog. Much of the frustration comes from the fact that Mariani only ate at Blue Ridge once for lunch with a group of friends, and that Seaver knew Mariani was there. More than one commentator across the different forums has noted that perhaps it is Seaver’s publicist that got him the award. Maybe it’s his youth and good looks. A quick gloss over multiple reviews suggests that it’s not what counts, the food.

Not all reviews are negative, and those on yelp.com fall anywhere between excellent and terrible, with one advising other to-be restaurant goers to “Skip it.” Nevertheless, the general impression seems to be that the chef of the year title should have gone elsewhere, with most of the yelp criticism centering on the opinion that the food is too salty.

In the grand scheme of things, Seaver’s award might not be that big of a deal. The November issue of Esquire will come out, Blue Ridge will be nationally known, and my neighborhood will be crowded with all types of palettes. Some will claim it to be the best restaurant they’ve ever visited, others will see past the glitz and acclaim and actually pay attention to the food. Given the fact that I’ve never eaten there–on purpose–I can’t really comment on the quality, sadly. Although I will be grateful that my little neighborhood will finally have some business, I can’t help but wonder about any possible aftermath, whether the crowds will go as quickly as they will likely come, and how this is really going to fix our neighborhood restaurant blight.

Enology

Enology Wine Bar
3238 Wisconsin Ave NW
Washington, DC 20016
(202) 362-0362

It’s the first night my mom is in town for a long weekend, and I have no idea where we’re going to dinner. This is very uncharacteristic. One of my favorite things to do is plan dinners, scouring reviews and recommendations online for hours before finally making the all-important reservation. VOLT was one of the first restaurants I scheduled, and it was long, long ago, followed by Rasika and then Zaytinya. This comforts me, makes it so I can sleep at night. I like having eveything on lock down.

For the night mom was flying in, however, it was all in the open.

Where would she want to go? Would she be up for the wait, crowd, and noise at 2 Amys, one of my most favorite casual places? Would she want Mexican from Cactus Cantina? Would she want to walk somewhere from her hotel (conveniently located 3 blocks from my apt), or would she be willing for the bigger pulse of Penn Quarter? The questions, they never stopped.

Mom was supposed to get in at 4. She got in at 7:30. We didn’t leave for dinner til 8:30. We headed for 2 Amys. The wait was at least an hour.

What to do? Jay and I had purposefully avoided 2 Amys recently knowing that we would try to go there on Friday. Since we usually only go during the week, we forgot about the crowd. I didn’t want Mexican, and Cafe Delux just wasnt exciting enough. Shit.

Then we remembered Enology, the local wine bar just across the street from Cactus Cantina. Darkly lit, it sat unassuming across from the bright neons of CC. Jay and I had eaten there once when it first opened, remembered it was pretty good (although small portions), but we hadn’t been back in a while. Mom was interested, so we gave it a shot.

Immediately after walking in, mom commented that the liked the lighting in Enology much better than 2 Amys, an almost literal night and day comparison. Enology is more sophisticated as well, more appropriate for a mom visit.

We took our time with the menu, starting with a 6-cheese plate and ordering one dish at a time. Although our server was a little slow and somewhat inconsistent, walking by our table when we had empty plates and glasses a couple of times, she remained very cordial and apologized for delays. Being a wine bar, the wine list is very extensive, giving you the opportunity to order vintages you are comfortable with or to branch out to things unfamiliar. I started with a J Brand sparkling wine, followed by a petit manseng from Monticello, and finished with a viognier from California.

I remember the food being good from my previous visit, but it was surprisingly good this time around. After the cheese plate, mom and I each ordered the vineyard salad, with mixed greens, dried cherries, blue cheese, red wine vinaigrette, and herbed lavash, a hard and crunchy flatbread. Jay had the saltimbocco gianni, veal and pork meatballs nestled on top of a chunky tomato sauce. The combination of flavors in the salad was very well balanced, light but satisfying with a pleasant contrast of textures, and the meatballs had a deep, old-country flavor that paired well with the slightly acidic sauce. We also all shared the pesto flatbread, topped with tomatoes roasted to perfection, marshmallow-like pillows of mozzarella, and a mild yet strikingly green and fresh pesto sauce. The flatbread itself was exquisitely soft, not chewy, with just enough form to hold its toppings without getting soggy.

For our second course, mom and I both chose the seared rockfish. Jay characteristically chose the skirt steak, which was small but cooked and seasoned expertly, accompanied by a huge pile of very flavorful fries.

The rockfish, however, was really the star. Simple, focused, and surprisingly good, each element played well with the rest of the dish. Even though the fist was topped with the now ubiquitous foam, the foam itself imparted a subtle, almost sweet briney-ness remeniscent of the sea. The fish was well seasoned, flaky and moist, and rested on a small pile of baconed green beans, both crispy and crunchy with a nice salty and smoky flavor. All in all, it was an elegantly worked yet simple play of flavors that continued devloping on the tongue after each bite.

Nothing pleases me more than a varied and imaginative dessert menu that does not feel obligated to only offer generic and mass-appealing mainstays (think creme brule, cheesecake, chocolate cake, flan … you get it). These desserts were all these things, and really effin good. Jay chose the pumpkin ravioli, which in essence was molten pumpkin pie filling held together by a crisp and sweet pastry crust, drizzled with dark chocolate and accompanied with mascarpone cheese. Excellence in fry form.

Mom and I must have channeled some identical spirit, because again we both ordered the same thing, the banana split terrine. Think your ice cream birthday cake, take it to an Ivy League school, get it a job on K street, and this is what you get: strawberries n’ cream gelato, sliced bananas, walnut-oreo crust, with chocolate covered sour cherries. Each individual part of the dessert maintained its integrity, with distinct flavors popping with each bite, and yet each component mingled well with the rest, reminding you of what a true banana split should taste like. Fun, playful, and a successful reworking of a classic childtime favorite.

Enology sat dark and forgotten for too long at the top of the hill just up Wisconsin from our apartment. It watched us as we walked by to go eat at other restaurants, it knew we didn’t think of it as an option, it knew we thought it was boring or too populated by loud single girls out on girl nights to be worth our time for a nice meal. Nevertheless, it’s focused, well balanced and well executed food reminded us of what we have been missing, and it successfully found itself in the short list of good neighborhood go-to staples. We’ll be back.

National Cheeseburger Day, and a trip to Tune Inn

Friday, September 18, 2009, is National Cheeseburger Day.

Although there are food holidays just about every day, this one has me pretty excited. Maybe it’s because I’m always looking for a good excuse to have a burger. Now that I live in DC, there are countless places to go to get one of these all time favorite pieces of grub, with burgers ranging from your basic flat patty to more elaborate offerings made with lobster, tuna, or even ostrich.

When celebrating this great day, however, I decided to stick with the original: ground beef with a slice of America, please. A small group of us from the office walked over to Tune Inn on Pennsylvania to take advantage of the holiday, and the burgers certainly did not dissapoint. Juicy and flavorful, parked between a fluffy bun, it was the type of burger you grew up eating. My only complaint is that the patty itself was a little thin–I definitely favor the big thick kinds that stay a little pink in the middle–and I was somewhat regretful that I did not order a double. Even so, this left room for some homestyle, like mom used to make fried okra and absolutely masterful fries. If you think you’re getting sick of fries, or the ones you have are always too greasy, you owe it to yourself to try these babies. Crisp even after waiting for nearly half an hour for the check, I don’t think I’ve ever had fries of this caliber.

If you’re looking for other good burgers in the DC area, a couple of local newspapers and magazines have “best of” lists. Here is a list of the best burgers from The Washington Post:

• BGR: The Burger Joint (Bethesda, MD)
• Big Buns Gourmet Grill (Arlington, VA)
• Central Michel Richard (Washington, DC)
• Elevation Burger (Falls Church, VA)
• Good Stuff Eatery (Washington, DC)
• Palena (Washington, DC)
• Ray’s Hell-Burger (Arlington, VA)

And here’s another compilation from the Washingtonian:

• Harry’s Tap Room (Clarendon, VA)
• The Prime Rib (Washington, DC)
• Black’s Bar and Kitchen (Bethesda, MD)
• Billy Martin’s Tavern (Washington, DC)
• Morton’s (Washington, DC)
• Brasserie Les Halles (Washington, DC)
• Fuddruckers (Washington, DC)
• Chapwicks (Washington, DC)
• Union Street Public House (Alexandria, VA)
• Silver Diner (Clarendon, VA)
• Capital Grille (Washington, DC)
• Sign of the Wale (Washington, DC)
• Quarry House Tavern (Silver Spring, MD)
• Whitlow’s on Wilson (Clarendon, VA)
• Boulevard Woodgrill (Clarendon, VA)
• Clyde’s of Georgetown (Washington, DC)
• Tastee Diner (Bethesda, MD)
• Tune Inn (Washington, DC)
• Majestic Cafe (Alexandria, VA)
• J. Paul’s (Washington, DC)

Note that these lists were made prior to the opening of The Counter

Others in DC I would recommend: Z Burger, Five Guys, Cheff Geoffs, Bourbon Glover Park. And how could I forget Cafe Atlantico, home of the cuban burger pictured above.

Charlottesville, VA: I think The Virginian has the best burgers in town. Thick and so juicy that you’ll find yourself whiping juice off of your arms, cooked to order with multiple types of cheese and topings. According to a fellow UVA grad and chef, however, the best burgers can be found at Riverside or Mel’s Cafe (both of which I have not been to, but want to try now!). The fries are pretty ballin’ at The Virginian too, and there’s a decent beer list.  Michael’s Bistro has some amazing bison burgers.

Little Rock, AR: Sometimes you just can’t beat the burger from the Purple Cow (get an adult milkshake while you are there!).

Vidalia Restaurant Week

Vidalia
1990 M Street, NW
Washington, DC 20036
(202) 659 – 1990

Generally when I visit Restaurant Week locations I find that I’m more interested in ordering off the restaurant’s regular menu rather than the RW menu (unless, of course, the regular menu is completely out of the picture and restricted). Often times the RW is too paired down and not very exciting, and I can’t help but feel like a kid who’s wandered from the wrong side of the tracks and is trying to play where I don’t belong. Times are tough, and it’s hard to be reminded of how I can’t order whatever I want whenever I want.

Not so at Vidalia. Recommended by the Washingtonian’s dining editor Todd Kliman as one of the top tier restaurants to visit during RW, Jay and I headed to Vidalia late on Friday night.

Walking in from the street, it’s hard to know what to expect. The only thing announcing the presence of the restaurant is a yellow awning with the name subtly printed on the side. A few steps inside and you find yourself walking down a flight of stairs, surrounded by magnolia flowers behind glass walls. Upon reaching the bottom, you are greated with a comfy-looking lounge and sitting area, as well as the host. The room was dimly lit and sparsely decorated, mostly white walls and pale wood, but still manages to be inviting and unpretentious.

Even though our reservation wasn’t until 10:15 pm, the restaurant was still crowded with diners taking advantage of the RW offerings. Sandwiched at a little table between multiple other couples, we dove into our menu options.

Vidalia’s RW menu is a little unique in that it offers diners the option of choosing 3 items from an essentially 5 course meal for the regular restaurant week price or choosing a 5 course tasting menu for a little extra. Given the option, I want to eat as much food as possible, so Jay and I decided to take the 5 course route. A quick glance at the menu reveals only a few extra surcharges for certain dishes (+ $5 for my lobster, + $10 for handcut steaks) and a wide variety of enticing and intricate dishes. The menu also offered RW wine prices, making bottles more reasonable, and specialty cocktails (one of which I ordered, and which I almost couldn’t finish because it was so strong).

Our waitress was very attentive, always commenting that we made a very good or excellent choice, and really took care of us for what otherwise would have been a very expensive meal. Like any tasting menu there are high and low points, but the general impression for the meal is a resounding high. I’ll be sure to visit Vidalia again when I can bankroll a non-RW meal (any family want to visit soon?), and I would definitely recommend it to anyone considering dining there. (Note: Vidalia is offering a reduced price and reasonable pre-fix lunch menu).

General menu note: I’m getting really tired of the “Southern” restaurant movement. Yes, I’m proud of my southern heritage, but too often a chef or restauranteur will think that frying everything makes the menu southern, or that having a few generic southern-esche dishes is enough to claim notoriety. When Jay first offered to bring us to Vidalia for restaurant week, I was a little apprehensive that the whole ideology of trying to be southern would dominate the dishes, but it’s thankfully different. Vidalia offers up a wide array of dishes that are complimented or enhanced by southern touches, rather than bending to the party line and sacrificing quality for an idea.

First Course:

Red waddle pork jowl rillettes
with pickled okra, radishes, creole mustard, country bread

This was a great first dish, cold terrine with accompaniments. One of my favorite parts was actually the mustard, which was spicy and flavorful without being so generic. The pork jowl was deeply flavorful and the pickled okra added a nice touch of the south to an otherwise French-like dish.

Vidalia’s rabbit mortadella
Red mustard greens, sliced pecans, rabbit bacon, truffle-honey vinaigrette

“It tastes like Thanksgiving turkey” was the first thing out of my mouth after I tasted Jay’s first course. Richly seasoned, this dish was almost like rabbit deli meat, something that you would put on a sandwich, and it tasted strangely familiar. Why it reminds me of Thanksgiving turkey, I’ll never know, but the familiarity of the dish was very nice and comforting.

Second course:

Grilled octopus
Avacado, red rubin, heirloom cherry tomatoes, smoked chili vinaigrette

I’ve had a lot of grilled octopus in the past year, most of it baby, and this falls among the very best. Very light without being chewy, a light flavor of smoke clinging to the charred tendrils, this dish was easily one of my favorites.

Heritage pig tail croquette
Red wine apple butter, pickled pheasant egg, kale

Third course:

Lobster

Unfortunately I do not have a detailed account of this dish or its ingredients because it was an offering not included on the website’s RW menu (although from the picture, it looks like there was some pork bell, which is probably the deciding factor in what made me order this particular dish). This was also one of the highlights of my meal, rich and deep without being overwhelming.

Shrimp and Grits
Yellow corn grits, Vidalia’s shrimp chorizo, heirloom onions

Fourth course:

Shenandoah lamb shoulder
Heirloom eggplant caviar, pot belly farm fig mostarda, smoked garlic

If I mentioned low points about the meal, this was it. Although the lamb was cooked well and very moist, the presentation only highlighted how little we were actually served. Maybe it was the whole “less is more” approach, but I couldn’t help that I was being cheated out of something. It also looked like the different parts of the dish were just slapped on the plate with little thought, and the lack of color similarly dampened the experience. I wanted to order the locally raised hand cut steaks for this meal, but those came with an extra charge and I had already slapped more money onto the meal with the lobster. Nevertheless, looking back, I think it would have been worth it to spring for the steaks.

Fifth course, dessert:

Vidalia’s lemon chess square
Lemon custard, berry compote, sweet cream

If you’ve read any of my restaurant post before, or maybe if you’ve dined in the Washington metro area long enough, you’ll know that too-often the dessert menu at a restaurant is the most disappointing. Even some of the most imaginative restaurants will dismiss the dessert menu as something not worth spending time or effort on, filling it with mass-appealing versions of things you’ve already had countless times. This can put a real damper on an otherwise sumptuous meal, one that you’ve thoroughly enjoyed and are about to drop a good deal of money for. Even if I’ve really enjoyed the meal, I’m less likely to come back if the dessert leaves me looking for more.

Again, Vidalia proves to be the exception to the rule here. Not only was this dessert phenomenal, it’s one of the best I’ve had in the area in a long, long time. The lemon custard was SO lemony and so clean, with that nice tang in the back of your mouth. It paired very nicely with the sweet cream and berry compote, which offered a nice contrast to the lemony sourness, and reminded me of the desserts I used to enjoy in the good-ole day of being a child.

Peanut butter crunch bar
Caramelized banana compote, sea salt caramel

Generally chocolate and peanut butter is not a pairing that I’m a fan of. I love both of them individually, but when they’re combined something is lost and the sum is less than each part. Not so with this dish, which managed to maintain the integrity of both the chocolate and the peanut butter in an almost-heavenly combination. Even though salted caramel seems pretty commonplace nowadays, this was masterfully balanced and not too salty. My favorite part, however, was the crunch of the dessert, almost like a rice crispy treat, a fancy one that still manages to have some fun.

Ceiba

Ceiba
701 14th St. NW
Washington, DC 20005
(202) 393-3983

Do you ever find yourself in that restaurant limbo where you want to have a nice dinner but not go over the top? Where you would like to put on a pair of nice jeans or maybe a simple dress, but not have to get super done up or brace yourself for throngs of people? You know, that hard to find middle ground between, oh, say Surfside and Central.

This is a quandary I find myself in more likely than not, and it really gets frustrating when I’m hungry and trying to decide where to eat. Sometimes I don’t want a lot of fuss, but I still want a good meal that’s fun and engaging without being generic. If you’ve ever been in this position, you know how hard it can be.

Lucky for me, Ceiba seems to fit into that narrow and hard to find middle. Walking past the bar to our table, I passed glitzy and fashionable young professionals enjoying happy hour specials at a red-lit and trendy bar, sampling a variety of specialty cocktails. Once seated in one of the many dining rooms, I cozied up at a booth close to a window looking out onto Penn Quarter, another couple only arm’s length away (even though other tables were available … but we won’t go there), and I couldn’t help feeling like I was in a very nice house, or maybe at a dining room on a vacation in the Carribean. Dimly lit with lush accents, the room was cozy and inviting but still reminded me that I was in the heart of DC, without being too over the top.

The menu offers a solid selection of food, small plates on the left hand side and entrees on the right. Jay and I actually decided to come here because one of my coworkers recommended it based on the conch fritters alone. “My family is from Cuba, and these are the best conch fritters I’ve ever had.” With conviction like that, we had to try it. I was also drawn to a menu that offered interesting choices that were still reminiscent of home cooking, good yet not over-worked.

Jay and I started out with the ceviche sampler, a choice I highly recommend. Rather than limiting yourself to one ceviche (which honestly I think would be rather strong in flavor), you get a sample of all four. We worked ourself up from the lightest, an acidic and light white fish, up to the bass, which was heavy, spicy, and very flavorful, with a spectrum of spice and heaviness in between. It was very delightful, and a plus if you don’t want to overwhelm yourself with only one flavor or spice level. I honestly don’t think I could have eaten all of the bass if that was the only ceviche we ordered.

Next up, conch fritters. The last conch fritters I had were at Café Atlantico, whose version is molten in the middle with pieces of conch floating around, so this traditional version at Ceiba was a little different and hard to really guage off of the CA version. Nevertheless, they were very good, warm and thick, with a sauce that must be made with crack. I don’t remember exactly what was in the sauce, but it reminded me of queso fresco. Although I might not order the fritters again, I was glad to try them.

My entrée was the whole crispy red snapper, brought out in a ceramic dish. Although the whole fish itself was impressive, the presentation as a whole was a little sloppy, as if the kitchen was tired and bored of shelling this dish out. Even so, the fish was perfectly cooked and seasoned, just a little crispy on the outside, and the pickled jalepenoes added a great kick of heat. Jay ordered the slow braised pork, which came accompanied with black beans, collard greens, rice, and plantains, and was absolutely delicious.

One great thing about this restaurant is that the dessert menu is not forgotten, a common malady for DC restaurants. Other than Vidalia, I don’t remember the last time I had to decide between two dessert options that I wanted, rather than trying to decide which would be the best out of two generic options. I went for the warm key lime bread pudding, Jay chose the warm sugar canella dusted churros. Both of them were phenomenal, and I honestly don’t have words because I was just so happy that I finally had a good dessert.

As for the alcohol, I ordered a “specialty” pomegranate margarita that frankly wasn’t that special, but the pisco sour that I ordered after it was pretty decent. We shared a bottle of wine that was reasonably priced and pretty tasty, so that made up for the mediocre marg.

Ceiba is a good, friendly place where you can find something to suit just about every level of taste, whether you want something adventurous like whole fish or something more basic like pork or chicken. The service is also attentive and refined, although it took a few minutes for them to notice we were there, but we had a great time and never found ourselves staring at empty or finished plates for too long, and our drinks were generally refilled quickly. It’s one of those comforting places to go when you want a good meal, but not a lot of fuss.

Rosa Mexicana: Revisited

After the last time I visited Rosa Mexicana, I was convinced that it would be the last time. No more. I can’t really put my finger on what was the nail in the coffin; maybe it was the poor service, maybe it was the realization that the flavors weren’t really all that exceptional, or maybe it was the discovery that Rosa is actually a chain. Whatever the reason, all of them combined just pushed me too far. Given the few drops of Irish blood in my veins, I can be pretty stubborn, and I was certain that this ban would be life-long.

My resolve first started to wear away on my birthday when, after an excellent dinner at PS 7’s, I was craving a margarita and headed to Rosa. I told myself I wasn’t cheating on my promise never to visit the place, considering I wasn’t actually eating anything and was just sitting in the bar having some drinks. I told myself I could still tell everyone I never ate there, and that they shouldn’t either.

Then, today, my resolve crumbled.

It wasn’t so much of a life-shaking, life-altering event. I was at work on a Saturday, checking up on some things after being absent for three full days, and Jay and I were having a little issue deciding where to eat. Most of the places we wanted to have lunch either (a) weren’t open or (b) were only serving brunch. Just as I was deciding to have a nice turkey sandwich at home, Jay suggested Rosa. Of course, I had my misgivings, I had sworn never to eat there again. But it was lunch, not dinner, and you don’t have to be as pretentious at lunch as you do dinner, right? I mean, I still had standards, this wouldn’t shatter them. Right?

Turns out, Rosa is much better than I remembered. Of course, the wait was much slower than normal (none at 1pm), the dining area as a whole was much less crowded, and the expectations were a lot lower. Nevertheless, we had a very gracious and attentive waiter. Drinks did not take very long, and he even made sure I would like the mole sauce surrounding my salmon by bringing me out a taste. When our food was taking a while to get to us, he assured us that it was just taking a while to get the fish ready. Just that extra little step, just those few words, made a huge difference. Our dishes were very good as well. My salmon could have used a little more salt (and a few more minutes on the grill), but the mole sauce was fruity, hearty, and spicy, and the portion size of the salmon was not too imense. Jay’s chicken sandwich (he ordered steak but was pleased with what he got) was absolutely delicious. The sweet potato fries were a little bland, but a pinch of pepper fixed them right up.

The meal was not perfect: the spicy guacamole, while filled with good bits of onions, tomatoes, and other things, was not really all that spicy and was actually a little bland. It needed something, like salt, and after a while I just got tired of it. My salmon was definitely undercooked, and although I personally don’t have a problem with this, I’m sure someone else would have sent it back. My salmon needed seasoning, Jay’s fries needed seasoning, the guacamole needed seasoning. And Jay didn’t get what he ordered. 

Nevertheless, this imperfect yet pretty decent lunch has changed my mind about Rosa. I couldn’t help think that the service was so much better, there must have been some sort of change or training overall. The food was decent, and definitely a good and filling lunch. All in all, I think I will be back, maybe even for dinner, but I will be sure to retain lower expectations than I used to so as not to be disappointed.

Fresca Smoothie

One of my new favorite snacks to make are smoothies. They’re not very complicated, especially when you can find bags of frozen mixed berries at the grociery store. I usually don’t stray from my simple go-to recipe of frozen berries, a little yogurt, a little milk, and a banana if I have one around. I’m a HUGE ice cream fan, and if I had my way I think I would eat it with every meal, but this also means I would weigh about 300 pounds. Smoothies, especially in small batches, are a good way to split the difference: nice and cold and generally thick with yogurt, but comprised of more healthy ingredients.

Last night I made a smoothie before the gym and had a little left over for after my workout. Lazily, I was spooning out the remaining smoothie from the Breville hand-mixer container, and I couldn’t help but feel bad that I couldn’t reach everything or scrape every last bit of smoothie from the sides. I knew we had some black cherry Fresca in the fridge, and I wanted one anyway, so I poured it into the smoothie container in an attempt to “deglaze” the container of the rest of the good smoothie bits.

In the words of Borat, “Great success!” The fizziness of the Fresca really lightened up the smoothie taste, and it got me to thinking, what if I added Fresca to the original smoothie recipe?

I decided to test it out, and the result was great. Usually my smoothies come out really thick, too thick to drink actually, but the Fresca served as a great thinning agent without diluting the flavor of the smoothie. The carbonation and bitter-sweet citrus added a subtle complexity and a little extra kick–although a soft, nudging kick–to the berries and tang of the yogurt. I gave Jay a taste of the final product without telling him what was in it, and I could see him thinking, “Something’s different, but I don’t know what it is.” Jay prefers thinner smoothies, so he was very pleased with the consistency of this one. When I told him I had put a can of Fresca in it, he was pleasantly surprised. “Looks like your plan worked!”

Another great thing abotu adding Fresca: it greatly increases the amount of smoothie without (1) watering the flavors down (2) distorting the flavors, or (3) adding a lot of calories.

Serving suggestion: serve your smoothie in glasses that have been sitting in your freezer for a while. We usually keep glass beer mugs in the freezer, and I poured my smoothie into one of these. The mug keeps the smoothie nice and cold, and after you’ve sipped on all the smoothie that remains viscous, you can scoop out the part that’s frozen to the side of the glass as an extra treat and different texture.

Fresca Smoothie: Ingredients:
NOTE: this are approximations, to taste. I never measure, I just kind of eyeball and do what I feel like. This is the order I put mine in the hand-mixer container.

• half a 12 ounce bag od unsweetened mixed frozen berries (leave frozen, don’t thaw; the mixes I use always have blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, and black berries)
• 1 banana (I like mine with a little green on it)
• 1 big spoonfull of sweetener or sugar
• 1/2 cup plain nonfat yogurt
• 1/3 to 1/2 cup skim milk
• 1 can Black Cherry Citrus Fresca

black + blum

The Food Section is one of my favorite websites–and according to the London Times Online, is also one of the 50 best food blogs in the world–and one that I try to check up on every other day or so. Although the site generally caters to the NY foodie scene, there is always some useful information or interesting tidbit, not to mention write-ups on innovated products.

One of the most recently advertised products on TFS is this potato masher by black + blum, which resembles a ski pole. I’m not a skiier, but this thing is pretty damn cool. Impressed by the innovation and creativity of black + blum, I took a little tour around their website, and I’ve gotta say, their stuff is great. It reminds me of Alessi, but a little less weird and more accessible. One of my favorite products is this fruit bowl, simple yet elegant, and for a suggested retail price of $40, you can’t go wrong. Other great products include some great pendant lights and plant-like salad servers. Check it out if you want something fun and modern for your kitchen or apartment.