Mazagan, South Arlington

Posted on November 4, 2015 by Don

Pay no attention to anything you’ve read or heard about Mazagan; go here and get the Bastilla ($9.50, get the one with chicken) and Moroccan Couscous ($18) with caramelized onions and raisins. The couscous would make a perfect carryout dish – it will retain its heat for at least 30 minutes. If you don’t want to invest your time, at least get this to take home.

Don’t let the Hookah room scare you away – that’s late-night stuff; the bar is a great place to dine, the food is made from scratch, and the interior reminds me of Monty’s Steakhouse in Springfield  – it’s a very nice-looking restaurant … and there were *no* diners in the main restaurant when I went. None.

The *last* thing I felt like doing right now is posting about a restaurant; it would have been immoral if I hadn’t.

Trust me – we could be in danger of wrongly losing yet another restaurant if you don’t.

Comfortably placed in Italic, and ranked as the #1 restaurant in South Arlington in the Dining Guide with no serious challenger in sight.

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The Shack, Staunton

Posted on October 29, 2015 by Don

Winding down my recent trip to the Midwest, I drove from Louisville to Staunton for my third consecutive evening of trying James Beard Award semi-finalists and finalists, in three different categories (Great Lakes, Southeast, and now Mid-Atlantic). First, let me recommend the Stonewall Jackson Hotel for anyone staying over in Staunton who can find a decent price – I spent too much time deciding on a hotel, and it was a mistake trying to save twenty bucks – if it’s between this place, and an interstate Best Western, stay here (trust me).

After a power nap, I strolled over to The Shack, a mere 1 1/2 blocks away from the hotel, arriving right when they opened to make sure I got a table – and I’m glad I did, because although I had the table to myself the entire time, the restaurant was beginning to get busy when I left.

I took a seat facing the kitchen, and began my meal with a bottle of 2013 Domaine de Triquet Sauvignon Blanc ($24), yes, that’s right, $24 for a bottle of good-quality, French Sauvignon Blanc – I knew I’d take half the bottle back to my room, but you can also order this by the glass for a mere $6 (sounds crazy, doesn’t it?)

The only thing my server urged me to get was the Blistered Shishito Peppers ($3, I think), served like you’d see edamame presented in a Japanese restaurant. These were probably still in the field 24 hours before, and there wasn’t a single hot one in the bunch. Sipping my first glass of Sauvignon Blanc, the shishitos were a great way to wind down and begin my meal in a relaxed, unhurried fashion, and thanks to my server for recommending them.

Since this was my first time here, I wanted to concentrate on fresh produce, and order as many things as possible, so I made it a mostly vegetarian meal of small plates, and took my dessert back to my hotel room to be enjoyed later that evening (and enjoy it I did). I ordered several items, and told my server it was fine to bring everything as it was ready – I was there to nibble and nosh.

Tomato and Peach Panzanella ($8) with charred pickled shallots, esmontonain, and basil was an excuse to show off superb tomatoes and peaches, although the tiny pieces of bread were perfectly textured as well (crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, perhaps pan-fried in olive oil). Ian, if you’re reading this, and *if* I’m remembering correctly, I think it was a mistake to use grated Parmesan (or whatever it was) on this dish.

Cucumber and Wax Bean Salad ($6) is something I surprised myself by ordering, and despite having possibly been harvested within the past 24 hours, the salad itself just didn’t thrill me, and was perhaps the one weak point of the meal – this needed to be gussied up a little bit – something, anything to add some flavor to these relatively neutral-tasting ingredients. If you like naked cucumbers and wax beans, go for it, but you have to really like them in order to like this.

Field Peas with Cornbread ($6) was an awesome display of excess by this diner – despite how healthy this food was, I didn’t need this dish because it was somewhat redundant to the wax beans. That said, it was a great show of ingredients, and I found myself filling up almost exclusively on vegetables, and merely nibbling on the fine cornbread.

At this point, I was stuffed, and I took my Buttermilk Custard, Nectarine, and Cornbread Crumbs ($7) back to the hotel – a mere five-minute stroll on flat terrain – and enjoyed it later that evening, right after I’d drained the final drop of wine, and then I tucked into the best night’s sleep I’d had in quite awhile. It was a great evening, and Ian Boden is a chef to remember.

This was my first visit to The Shack, and I can summarize it like this: farmer’s market-quality ingredients, cooked simply and with a master’s touch. This is a restaurant that lets the ingredients take center stage and take the bow; not one with an ego-driven chef who feels the need to neutralize nature’s bounty. Don’t expect Michelin 3-star technique here because the chef chooses not to use it – this is simple food of the highest quality, done just the way you want it. Italic all the way in the Dining Guide, and if I had to name one area restaurant it reminded me of more than any other, I would name Grandale Farm, with the caveat that I didn’t test The Shack’s kitchen in the slightest, and I suspect that Ian can cook rings around most any chef in the exurbs.

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Centrolina, City Center

Posted on October 29, 2015 by Don

I can’t get used to this alley being here; nonetheless, I love the area, and hope that DC can have about twenty more like it in the future. After the parking gods smiled upon me, I strolled into the bar at Centrolina and immediately wanted to relax with a beer – a DC Brau Peppercorn Saison ($7). About all I can say is, “Damn, I wish I liked this brewery more because it has become ubiquitous, and there’s almost no escaping it.” Anyway, I switched to a Bertani Bertarose ($11) to have with my meal, and I’m glad I did. A friend pointed out that this may have been 3 Stars Brewery, and it may well have been.

The Polpo ($14) was just fantastic – I’ve had Amy’s polpo before, and knew that I was going to like this dish, but it exceeded my already-high expectations, primarily because it came with something I’d never tasted before: Cotechinata – a roulade of pig skin which was cut, texturally, by potato confit – there’s something about the starch in the potato that neutralizes any perception of fattiness (think about how a loaded, stuffed baked potato can absorb butter, sour cream, cheese, and bacon fairly effortlessly). Anyway, it’s an appetizer portion, also came with a celery salad, and was done right – for every ten octopus dishes I’ve eaten, it seems like about one has been executed really well (same with squid), and this was that one.

Casunsei ($23) was a wonderful bowl of ravioli, stuffed with shredded beef, swiss chard, speck, golden raisin, lemon, and butter sauce – ah, yes, it’s those last three ingredients that took this dish from good to great, and you shouldn’t hesitate to get it. It’s not a huge portion, but that really didn’t matter, because I also got a ridiculously large side order of Barbabietole ($9), salt-roasted red beets – this was such a big portion that I couldn’t finish it, and I told Amy (later on, in a text message) that I thought the dish was too large for one, so it might be a bit smaller now. Or, if not, get it for two.

This was my introduction to Centrolina, but was also about the fifth restaurant where I’ve enjoyed Amy’s cooking, and she keeps getting better. There was nothing about this meal that I wouldn’t recommend, and the only reason I wouldn’t get things a second time is because there’s so much else to try here. Centrolina is officially, and strongly, initiated in Italic in the Dining Guide. I don’t quite understand why people are packing Fig & Olive when it seems like the food is prepared in, and shipped down from, New York, perhaps in vacuum-packed plastic bags, but who am I to judge the dining habits of DC 20-somethings.

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610 Magnolia, Louisville, KY

Posted on October 28, 2015 by Don

I’ve been procrastinating writing a continuation of my trip to the Midwest – the day of Matt’s invocation, I decided to take the southern route home, and hit a couple James Beard nominees in the process.

The night before, in Bloomington, IN, Matt and I had dinner at Restaurant Tallent, a 2015 James Beard semi-finalist for Best Chef – Great Lakes; on this evening, I went to 610 Magnolia (website), Edward Lee’s flagship restaurant in Louisville, KY, which was a 2015 James Beard finalist for Best Chef – Southeast. This is a deceptively formal restaurant, is prix-fixe only, and is absolutely fine dining. I was surprised to see that Tom Sietsema this week reviewed Succotash in National Harbor, nominally run by Edward Lee. Lee also has a second Louisville restaurant, MilkWood, which is decidedly more downscale and less formal. He also has published a cookbook, “Smoke and Pickles.” Lee has been a busy man – perhaps a little too busy for his (or our) own good.

I’ve held off writing this until now because I can’t find my menu (I asked if I could take a copy, and they said yes). So I wrote 610 Magnolia, and they graciously emailed me a copy, although it wasn’t quite the same – I could probably patch together the courses I had, but I don’t think that would be fair to the restaurant which was, as a whole, a lovely, elegant, civilized dining experience that really hit the spot after a long day – it was my very first evening as an empty nester. :(

I chose the four-course prix-fixe instead of the six-course, and the dinner was everything I hoped it would be, except for two things: they didn’t have the first bottle of wine I ordered (a Godello), and they had to substitute drumfish for snapper, and the drumfish – which was the main course of the meal – was overcooked to the point of being very dried out.

But there were some seasonal and regional items on my menu, such as compressed watermelon, baby red spinach, a cornmeal cake with Georgia freestone peaches and buttermilk ice cream, etc. You knew were in the South, and you knew it was the end of summer – it’s hard to compliment a restaurant any more than that. I’m not entirely convinced that Edward Lee should win the Beard Award for 610 Magnolia, especially since he’s diluting himself, but there’s no doubting the thoughtfulness and class that went into implementing this very good, refined dinner. If there’s a more sophisticated dining experience than this in Louisville, I’d like to know what it is.

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Soma Coffee House and Juice Bar, Bloomington, IN

Posted on October 27, 2015 by Don

Move-In Day. This is what mother’s are for (at least in this case). Invocation was at 2 PM, and Matt called me around 11, saying his room was finished. I went over and saw it – it’s an old dorm, one of the older buildings on campus, and Matt’s roommate, Issac Liu, is a Piano Performance major from Kentucky, with a formidable stack of books on his desk.They’ll get along just fine.

The room is small but cozy, with conveniences I didn’t dream of having at Clemson – a semi-private bath shared among two rooms of two students each, and private showers down the hall (Clemson, having been a military school at one point, featured the largest dorm in the United States, and it was an unspeakable dive that didn’t even have doors on the toilets).

After seeing Matt’s room, I said I was going to grab some lunch before invocation, and he said he was hungry too. “There’s a little place just a few steps outside your dorm,” I said, and so we went to Soma Coffee House and Juice Bar where I got a Jungle Juice Smoothie with mango juice, pineapple juice, mango, papaya, pineapple, and banana; Matt got a sandwich special of some sort, along with a Matcha Bubble Tea (freshman five, here we come). He finished his sandwich, and left to take a nap before invocation; this was my lunch, so I got a second drink – a Berry Berry Good Smoothie with apple juice, strawberry, blueberry, raspberry, and banana. These smoothies are delicious.

Since I was alone, I got him a $25 gift card (it’s a two-minute walk from his dorm – he’ll use it), then went looking for a CVS where I bought him a card about kicking ass and taking names. It was a mistake, since I ended up parking a half-mile away. Still, invocation is a great event and a moving ceremony. A thunderstorm threatened the post-invocation picnic, so I grabbed a Diet Coke, said goodbye to Matt’s mom and stepfather, shook Matt’s hand, and said “Okay, I’m off to Louisville – see you soon.” “See you soon,” he said, knowing it might not be all that soon. I had made him the promise – which I will keep – that anytime he wants, he can come home for the weekend, my treat, if he gets homesick, and also that I’m always only 24 hours away which is a trip I would make anytime, with pleasure – I seriously doubt he’ll take me up on it, but he knows the offer is there, and that’s what’s important. He’ll be just fine. Me, I’m a wreck, but that comes with the position.

I was off to Louisville, an empty nester, and truly alone for the first time in almost thirty years. The world was now at my feet, and I felt a crushing sense of responsibility I didn’t even know I was carrying melt away as I drove away from Bloomington. It was time to start my new life, and time for Matt to start his – but I’ll always be there for him no matter what. At the end of my drive awaited a 2015 James Beard Award Finalist.

—

Note: I actually returned to Soma in mid-October, 2015, during a flash visit to Matt at the end of a week-long trip with Thèrése and Francine (my mother-in-law and her sister from France, whom I took to the Grand Canyon for an 80th birthday gift – they’re both close enough where I made it a combined celebration); we stopped back in Indianapolis for one day to visit Matt (he’s grown about 1/4-inch since August!). Same smoothie for me – a Berry Berry Good – and once again, it was delicious. Warning: There are two Soma locations in Bloomington, and we found that out the hard way since “it” was our meeting place. This place has really good smoothies; I’ve never tried the coffee here despite it being primarily a coffeehouse.

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Bedrock Billiards, Adams Morgan

Posted on October 27, 2015 by Don

At 1 PM, the best answer to “Where to play pool?” was driving into Sunday’s shitstorm known as the Marine Corps Hurricane, and heading up Rock Creek Parkway, and over on Calvert Road to Bedrock Billiards – this despite having no idea if roads would be closed (Continental was closed, and so was half of Rosslyn). No matter, the tables at Bedrock are superior, and so is the beer. There’s no food, but there are pretzels to stave off hunger.

Well, I played my old nemesis, in town from the Hamptons, just before he left for Union Station, and got my ass handed to me, 9-4 (nine-ball). He’s tough, and I can only hang with him if I’ve been playing; I haven’t played since I last saw him several years ago – before that, it had probably been a good five years. This does not make for quality billiards at any level.

There’s no powder allowed on the tables at Bedrock Billiards, and I think that’s a good thing since it keeps things clean. (Please note the “Where Are The Best Pool Halls in the DC Area?” in the Help Needed thread, and answer if you know of any, despite the immediate situation having been solved.)

So, Bedrock it was, and we had a fantastic time together – I’ve only seen him twice in the past ten years now, and he’s one of my very best friends. Yes, we played “Win Or Suck” Nine Ball, and it goes without saying that I sucked a lot more than I won – we both did, in fact, the person who called “Win Or Suck” got their challenge declined and handed back to them for about the first five games, and lost every single time. If any serious billiards players are reading this, I do believe that we’ve invented one of the very greatest set of rules there are for any game. See them in detail here and give it a shot if you have a competition-worthy rival – it’ll shut you both up very quickly, I promise you. As bad as we played, we both could not have enjoyed ourselves any more than we did. Gosh I love billiards – I’ve never been quite the player that I am in table tennis, but I love it all the same, and with a little practice? Who knows  – I’d like to find out, that’s for sure.

As for today and the food, when I got there, my friend was enjoying a pint of Samuel Smith (on the bill as Guinness, 6.82), and I followed with a pint of Great Lakes (Cleveland) Elliott Ness Lager (how appropriate, since I’m addicted to “Narcos,” $5.45), and he made do with a pack of Pretzels ($1.50). The tables were in great shape, the crowd was high-energy but not-at-all bothersome (the Redskins were on), and it was just a terrific atmosphere to have may ass handed to me, much as it hurts to say.

Pool was $11.32 an hour, and we played for just about two hours, so with our “loser pays” agreement, this cost me a fair amount, but … I put the emphasis on the word, “fair,” because Bedrock Billiards is just a great place. I’m going to see if I have it in Italic, and if I don’t, I’m going to make that change right now.

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Le Diplomate, 14UP

Posted on September 24, 2015 by Don

(For the Sep 20, 2013 Review, click here.)

One thing you have to say about Le Diplomate is that it’s often open. Not only is Le Diplomate often open, it’s also often expensive – deceptively so, but in fairness, no more so than any of the other higher-end restaurant that have sprouted in 14UP over the years.

The bread, ah, the bread – it’s so good, so authentically good, and so’s the butter – creamy, yes, but perfectly salted (creamy butter without salt, hell, *any* butter without salt) is like drinking a glass of pasteurized milk, but with just a crystal or two, good butter becomes great butter, and so it is with Le Diplomate: What a *fine* calling card this bread and butter before the meal is, and what a luxury this heretofore expectation has turned out to be. Honestly, I’d like to take this moment to *thank* Le Diplomate for offering such excellent bread and butter, gratis, to their diners. It’s a shame our culinary world has gotten to that point, but it has, and I’m grateful to the torchbearers of tradition and excellence in dining, this bread and butter course being representative of that.

And if you think *that* was overkill, you ought to see me when I find a quarter on the sidewalk!

I wanted to relax before dining, and asked for a Gin and Tonic ($10) with plain old Bombay. No Sapphire for me; plain old Bombay is just fine as a mellow, neutral, everyday gin – the scary thing being that if you look up Bombay Gin on the web, nearly all you see are webpages for Sapphire. This is what you get when you search the web for “Bombay gin website”:

Screenshot 2015-09-13 at 15.19.06

Unfortunately, the G&T (which I actually got before the bread came out because I hadn’t ordered yet) was ten-dollars worth of awful. It was made right in front of me, and hurt to watch: the glass was absolutely filled with ice, to the point where the bartender had to scrape some off the top. Then the tiniest of pours (C’mon guys! This is Bombay; not Louis XIII!) followed by … (bartenders know what’s coming next) … “the squirt gun.” It was as if a loony tune spray-shot my liquid relaxation, murdering my simple little cocktail. Ten dollars for this non-drink was just silly – please learn to make a Gin and Tonic, and at these prices, please dispense with the squirt gun.

It had been the better part of year since I’d been here, so I decided for a smattering of small plates rather than one of their tempting nightly specials. I began my meal with Pea Soup ($13), not even knowing whether it would be hot or cold when I ordered it, and not really caring – either way was fine; as it turns out, I was delighted with what was placed in front of me: a white bowl, with a little crab meat, some peas (if I recall), and a crescent of crème fraîche sitting in the center, awaiting the pour-over. I adore pour-over soups – they add a touch of class to the simplest of meals. The liquid was a pleasantly hot pea purée, and my only regret was one which you also have, but you’ll never admit to having: pea broth tends to cling to the side of the pitcher from which its poured (peas being somewhat granular on the inside, thus forming micro-lumps when puréed, and leaving trace amounts in their serving vessel). You know you want every single drop of this broth just as much as I do, and you’re miffed when you don’t get it. Admit it! And what a fine soup it was, too – when that bowl went back to the kitchen, it probably confused the living daylights out of them, because, thanks to that delicious bread, it was swabbed cleaner than a sailor’s bathroom floor with a toothbrush.

After this soup, a piece of bread or two, a little butter, and a G&T, I was in such a happy place. Sure, I was still hungry, but that had taken the edge off, and I knew more was coming – in fact, I knew *two* more things were coming, so I ordered a Half Carafe of House White Wine ($16) – a La Vielle Ferme Luberon Blanc (a blend of Bourboulenc, Grenache Blanc, Ugni Blanc, and Vermentino) poured from magnum into what was probably a 10-12 ounce carafe (I should have peaked, but I didn’t – figure two small, modest, glasses-worth). La Vielle Ferme is the mass-market wine controlled by the Perrin empire – the folks that own Château de Beaucastel – so while you’re not going to be getting anything memorable, you’ll be getting something safe, palatable, and food-friendly. This is a good house wine to have because it’s not expensive at all, but is in balance and “correct,” so diners will tend not to balk at a healthy mark-up. This is wine to drink, and not to savor, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Next came my Roasted Beets ($13.50) with Cloumage cheese (don’t feel bad – I had to look it up too), hazelnuts, and ice wine vinaigrette. This was a Salad, not an Appetizer, and was presented as such – in retrospect, I would have asked for it pre-soup, but this is of almost no importance. It was attractively plated, pleasant, and held no surprises – just what I wanted – and it went beautifully with the wine, too. My hunger was dissipating, and I was eating extremely healthy food.

So of course I had to do something about that and ordered the Fromage de Tête ($12). Let me tell you something: this was served with marinated chanterelles, apple, and mâche, but ignore all that – if you order this, you’re getting head cheese, and a version that takes brass doo-dads to serve in a restaurant such as this – this was real, honest-to-goodness, walk-into-a-delicatessen-in-Germany, gelatinous, piecemeal, unidentifiable, pig-ear, jowl-ridden, snout-filled *head cheese*, and you had better *really* be in the mood for it because this is for adventurous diners; not people out for a medium-well steak-frites at a safe little neighborhood Brasserie. Kudos to Le Diplomate for having this on their menu – this was the real McCoy, and it makes me wonder if I’m underestimating the dining public, or if timid patrons will force this recipe to change. Let us hope it remains as-is, because this is a conversation piece of peasant filler.

The price of my dinner snuck up on me – with tax and tip, it was $84 for 3 appetizers and drinks – and it made me realize that, man, this place isn’t cheap; yet it’s *always* crowded. This was a very good dinner, and Le Diplomate rests comfortably in Italic, and even snuck up a couple of slots in the 14UP Dining Guide. Well done, Starr Restaurants – I hope you’re investing your money wisely.

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Elephant Jumps, Merrifield

Posted on September 24, 2015 by Don

(For the Dec 16, 2010 Review, click here.)

lion, on 23 Aug 2015 – 9:59 PM, said:

Elephant Jumps is definitely one of the best Thai restaurants in the DC metro area.

DonRocks, on 23 Aug 2015 – 10:19 PM, said:Would someone please recommend some dishes at Elephant Jumps? Admittedly I’ve only been about three times – none recently – but I haven’t seen anything even approaching greatness. I’m willing to believe I’ve ordered wrong, and am certainly game to try it again (realistically, it will be most likely be for lunch, probably as carryout, if that helps you answer).

lion, on 23 Aug 2015 – 10:40 PM, said:TheMatt probably knows the name of the dishes better than I do, but they have a regional specialities section. Over the last 3-4 visits have tried most of them and they were all very good and not something offered at other Thai restaurants unless it was written not in English.

Lary, on 23 Aug 2015 – 11:28 PM, said:T3

TheMatt, on 24 Aug 2015 – 2:25 PM, said:As lion said, my first glance is about what’s on the chalkboard (banana blossom salad, say) or what’s new/special. I often head there when the elephantjumps Instagram feed has a new dish or is spotlighting something (currently, the pinto) or if the Chef’s feed has something new.

But, if I just head in, and the chef isn’t there for me to ask “What should I try today?”, I tend to focus on the “Serious Thai Cooking” section as seen on their webpage menu. I agree with lion that T3, the gang hunglay curry, is quite good, I also like the kanom jeen numya (the tuna curry).

I still haven’t gotten the anchovy sticky rice for dessert yet…

chertzog, on 25 Aug 2015 – 4:31 PM, said:My wife and I go to Elephant Jumps for lunch whenever we’re out that way on the weekend.  And we always order those dishes.  I don’t think I could long go without the hung lay and spicy tuna curries

ylkim30, on 26 Aug 2015 – 4:52 PM, said:The Hung Lay curry is seriously good.

I want to thank everyone who came to my aid when I asked about Elephant Jumps – you have a new convert!

I’ve visited here twice in the past couple of weeks, and have been dumbfounded at the dishes I’ve ordered – so much so, that I’m not even sure what I could compare Elephant Jumps to in terms of area Thai restaurants – not necessarily in terms of “quality,” but in terms of being so “different.” TheMatt mentioned something about it being close to Laotian, but I don’t see the pattern, so I’m not sure what it is (and I’m hardly an expert when it comes to Northeastern Thai or Laotian cuisine, my experience being pretty much the same as most others’ here – Bangkok Golden, Elephant Jumps, Little Serow … I haven’t even been to Thip Khao, I’m ashamed to say.

The first recent visit to Elephant Jumps was a drive-by, and I called and ordered three things from the “Serious Thai Cooking” section of their menu, two of which I’d never had before:

T3 – Gang Hung Lay ($17), slow-cooked pork curry, with a side of sticky rice. The pork is cooked for five hours (!) on low heat, and as the menu says, the serving size is small, but it’s a “concentrated” dish, a filling dish, and money well-spent from where I sit (which is usually in the diner’s seat).

T4 – Ka Nom Jeen Num Ya ($10), spicy curry tuna over Thai-style Noodle, some small fish balls (is *that* what those where!), and some greens.

I’m going to tell you something that may make you lose some respect for me, but I don’t care because it really, really worked, and worked well: I took all ingredients from both these of dishes, and put them side-by-side in the same mixing bowl. One reason for this is that I wasn’t entirely sure which condiment went with which dish, and nothing looked like it clashed, so …in they went. And let me tell you, just because T3 is “supposed” to be enjoyed with sticky rice, and just because T4 is “supposed” to be served with Thai-style noodes doesn’t mean you can’t mix-and-match, because everything works so well together – even getting some pork and tuna in the same bite – it doesn’t matter. Do it, play around with it, experiment – it’s delicious! All of it!

T10 – Pad Woon Sen ($12), stir-fried bean thread, tomato, celery, and egg. Pad Woon Sen is a staple, weed-out dish for me, and is therefore something I have might have gotten here years ago, and in all honestly, it fell far, far short in quality compared to the other two dishes I had on this evening (full disclosure, I left it covered, and reheated it for lunch tomorrow, but I do this all the time with Pad Woon Sen, and it reheats quite well, even in a microwave). This was an average version at best, and the portion size was somewhat guarded. This was not a repeat for me, and if I was judging Elephant Jumps based on this alone, my rating would not even be in Italic (as it stands, it is not only ranked in Italic, but raised to the #2 restaurant, behind Brine, in the Merrifield Dining Guide).

—

A consistency test: Once again, it was T3 and T4, and once again, both dishes performed as well as imaginable – they were terrific, every bit as good as the first time I had them. One visit was lunch, another dinner; one was in; the other out. Both were superb, and although two dishes does not a restaurant make, the members here were entirely successful in guiding me to terrific meals, and you absolutely helped Elephant Jumps due to your posts, your influence on this post, and its subsequent raised placement in the Dining Guide. Your posts here matter, not only because other people read them and are influenced by them, but because I read them, and when I see a pattern emerge like I saw with Elephant Jumps, I get on the express train to Dinnerville, following the advice of our seasoned members, almost always with effective results – our members are *awesome*!

Thank you, everyone, for showing me the light when it comes to Elephant Jumps; now, it’s time to figure out a pattern in terms of what to order – I suspect there are many other dishes that are the equal of T3 and T4, and enthusiastic wait staff, ready to jump in and help on a moment’s notice. I love these dishes at Elephant Jumps, and I love the members of this website. And so it goes! Thank you!

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Taste @ Hong Kong, Chantilly

Posted on September 23, 2015 by Don

I’ve had three meals at Taste @ Hong Kong in the past several weeks, have raised its rating to Italic, and have elevated it to #1 in the Chantilly Dining Guide.

“Ice water, tea, and a Tsing Tao ($3.95)” was my response when my tentatively kindly server asked me what I’d like to drink (it was late, I didn’t want any caffeine, and I only ordered tea so I’d be taken seriously, but I did enjoy half a cup – it’s free here).

The strategy of going for the “Chef’s Recommendations” sections of menus at large, Hong Kong-style restaurants seems sound, but I’m not convinced it always pays off; nevertheless, it did on this evening – I ordered enough food so I could have a light lunch the next day, two items instead of one:

#86 Fried Pumpkin with Salty Egg Yolk ($12.95) was a classic example of me rolling the dice on something I had no idea about, just because it sounded unusual, but let me tell you: this is an excellent dish, something akin to Peter Chang’s fried eggplant in terms of what it looks like – try and picture pumpkin sliced to look like thick-cut, steak fries, and the “salty egg yolk” was clearly in the thick, dark-brown batter they used to deep-fry it. There was really nothing terribly exotic about this dish, but it was delicious, and it wasn’t even all that salty. As a solo diner, it was too big, but for two people, you should absolutely get this to share, either as an appetizer, or a side dish. As I’m typing this, I’m having vivid memories of it, even though it has been over two weeks, and am salivating like Pavlov’s dog.

#90 Sautéed Fish with Chinese Yam ($14.95) doubled-down on the autumnal vegetables, and I’m glad I did. This was a cod-like whitefish, wok-sautéed with a light hand on the oil, and accompanied with several vegetables, among them, white, circular disks of Chinese yam which I would not recognize as anything other than “some root vegetable” had it not been identified on the menu. Like the fried pumpkin, this was a mild dish, but this was also a healthy dish – one that I could, and would, gladly eat fairly often. Also like the pumpkin, it sounded more exotic than it actually was – had it not been for the Chinese yam, this would have been a fairly typical (but high-qualiity) fish filet and vegetable stir-fry. I left stuffed and happy, and had a nice little lunch the next day.

#49 Dough Fritters Stuffed with Shrimp Paste ($6.95) was another thing I ordered mostly for the joy of discovery – one thing that piqued my curiosity (which, incidentally, killed the cat) was that there was a separate appetizer of “Fried Shrimp Toast,” so this clearly wasn’t that. And yet, it kind of was – in shape, these resembled the Fried Pumpkin, as they were in the same general shape as huge steak fries (rectangular prisms, if you will) – strips of deep-fried dough stuffed with a shrimp paste that has the texture of a dense, firm mousse. This was one dish I made sure to polish off, despite it being too much for person, because I was pretty sure it wouldn’t reheat very well. Like the pumpkin, it wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but boy they sure were good. If I had ordered “Shrimp Toast,” and gotten this dish, I wouldn’t have questioned it, so think along those lines, even though it’s a paste rather than whole shrimp.

#98 Sautéed Malaysian Style Seafood ($18.95) was a bounty of seafood – squid, shrimp, fish, scallop – again served with mixed vegetables – mushrooms, pea shoots (the biggest flaw in this dish was its over-reliance on pea shoots) – and not at all incendiary; I was bracing for some degree of potentially crippling sambal, but this is a Hong Kong-style restaurant, and style took precedence over personal foreboding. This was a generous portion of seafood, and once again the kitchen used a moderate touch with the oil (I love it when my wok-fry isn’t oiled to death), and while delicious and of good quality, the saucing here was a little less exciting than I had hoped for. This is what you think of when you think “Seafood and Vegetables” in an Americanized Chinese restaurant *but* this was of much higher quality than the norm, so take that as a stylistic comment, rather than as a qualitative one – these are wok-fried with a seasoned hand and an elegant touch, and are the types of dishes you want to eat, rather than dread – the texture is snappy and clean, and you don’t feel like you’ve fellated an oil can when you’re finished. All four of the dishes I’ve mentioned so far would pass StarStraf’s hilarious “Grandma Review” litmus test that she has been throwing into her reviews of late. However, that’s about to change, at least a little bit.

#71 Fish and Preserved Egg Soup ($9.95) had me wondering where the preserved egg was – after a few minutes, I assumed it was somehow incorporated into the broth, even though that seemed unlikely. This was again a cod-like whitefish that left me a little bit AFO’d (all fished out) because I’d been attacking the seafood here pretty aggressively, and this was the third dish I’d had with the same basic type of fish. By no means is that the restaurant’s fault, and this soup was every bit as good as anything else I had here. Ah! And finally, I saw it: a quartered thousand-year egg, and then I noticed three others as well, so sure enough, it was here; just hidden below. I love preserved eggs, but they aren’t for grandma, unless grandma is from China. I’ve always assumed “thousand-year eggs” are named as such because they look like they’ve been aging for a thousand years – they’re as black as coal in spots, and despite being mild, their appearance can fool your brain into thinking they taste like something that they don’t taste like. I suspect this is the same with Balut, a dish that I have never worked up the courage to try, even though I’m certain it’s perfectly fine and probably even delicious. Well, anyway, the four quarters of egg were not an integral part of the soup; just a self-contained ingredient, and the broth came across as containing a bit of egg yolk which I thought complemented things nicely.

#89 Steamed Frog Legs with Cordycep Flowers ($21.95) was every bit the physical challenge that I feared it might be. A melange of frog legs and vegetables, topped with a generous stratum of cordyceps (I linked that so you’d get an idea of the presentation), this was a subtle and nuanced treat (cordyceps, despite being a fungus, are no more aggressive than shredded carrot). The problem was as it so often is with inexpensive frog legs: It requires a tongue deft enough to tie a knot in a cherry stem in order to separate the strands of meat from the strands of bone. Imagine putting a little twig into your mouth, and the twig is composed of several strands of thinner twigs, each of the same length. Some of these are meat; others are bone (inedible bone), and it’s your tongue’s charge to separate the two in a Sisyphean chore that’s similar to eating a distressingly seedy watermelon, or tiny little crab claws, or any other food item that forces you to max-work for min-benefits. No, it doesn’t taste like chicken; it tastes like frog legs, but these were little baby things, and I’d breathe an occasional sigh of relief when I got a speck of meat that separated from the bone. You will use your hands with this dish, with each bite of frog leg, in order to extract bone after bone after bone. I haven’t had inexpensive frog legs in awhile, and now I remember why I haven’t – they’re just too much trouble. Recently, I had some as an appetizer at Bistroquet (I think it was at Bistroquet), and any expense for larger legs is worth it to me, preparation taking a back seat to the distribution of meat-to-bone. A very good dish, to be sure, and I knew what I was getting into before I got into it – I enjoyed this, especially with the cordyceps which I’ve had plenty of times in the past, but have simply never been able to identify, either by name or species.

Six-for-six at Taste @ Hong Kong – not bad, not bad at all. Any other opinions about it?

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Willard’s Real Pit BBQ, Chantilly

Posted on September 9, 2015 by Don

I am so far behind on my reviews that I’ll never catch up – but this is one that I really want to get out there because it involves a now-funny anecdote (it wasn’t so funny at the time), and a kindhearted, good Samaritan.

This afternoon, I had lunch at Willard’s, and ordered a Kansas City Burnt Ends Platter ($11.99) which came with two sides, baked beans and collard greens, and a Diet Coke ($1.56, not a typo) for a huge, 24-ounce styrofoam cup, with a self-service fill at the fountain.

First, a congenital defect that I have (it’s either congenital or it’s happened slowly over time). We’ve all taken a gulp of liquid and had it go down our windpipe, right? It happens to me on occasion, and after the inevitable 45 seconds of coughing, it goes away – no big deal, and it doesn’t happen very often. Yet, 5-10 years ago, I noticed a pattern that makes it happen, consistently: I take a gulp of liquid, then turn my head to the right before swallowing, then swallow, and if I’m not thinking (and who thinks when they take a gulp of a drink?), that is when it goes down my windpipe. Not when I turn my head to the left; only to the right – so there’s some anatomical asymmetry that causes my windpipe to open up, only when my head is turned to the right.

I got my food, filled my drink, walked over to the sauce counter, and noticed about a dozen different sauces, some in a bottle; others house made. Well, I chose a house-made sauce for my collards, and squirted about three squirts of what was labeled “XXX,” not even giving it much thought. They also had a separate habanero-pepper sauce, and I’m pretty sure that what I selected was the hottest-of-the-hot. I really wasn’t thinking, and I don’t have any huge problem with a small amount of hot sauce, so what was the big deal?

Well, the big deal was that I took a seat at the far left of the front counter, along the window looking outside the restaurant. Down the counter from me, on the right, were two men who I only indirectly noticed out of the corner of my eye. I noticed them when I took a bite of the collard greens, and I guess I must have turned my head towards them and swallowed.

Then, a few seconds later, I began to cough. And not only did I begin to cough, I began to feel like someone poured acid inside my windpipe. Only then did I realize that a couple droplets of that XXX sauce must have seeped into my windpipe as I took that bite of collard greens. As the seconds, and then the minutes, passed, it got worse and worse. I would cough perhaps every fifteen seconds, and the burning was on an ever-increasing slope. After several minutes of this, I realized that, wait a minute, this isn’t supposed to happen like this. I took ice from my soda, but what was I supposed to do with it, cram it down my windpipe? There was nothing I could do – water didn’t help, cornbread didn’t help (it came with cornbread, too), and I was really hurting. And I started coughing more-and-more, as this XXX sauce was irritating my windpipe.

About five minutes passed, and things continued to decline. I finally accepted the fact that, okay, sometime in the next twenty seconds, I was going to throw up, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop it. I got up, left my food and book on the counter, walked out the front door, put my drink on the roof of my car, opened the door, started the engine, and blasted the air conditioner – somehow, the cold air blowing on my face made things a little less terrible. I was sitting there, with the car door open, like a rag doll, unaware of any of my surroundings, and just praying for the passage of time. I’m not even sure if I was fully in the car, or if my legs were dangling out the door – I don’t remember.

What I do remember is that I started to feel a bit better, just a bit, and noticed one of the men sitting at the counter walking up to my car. I didn’t realize at the time that he was approaching me; I just thought maybe he was walking to his car. He leaned in the door, and said, “Hey, man, are you okay?” It was then that I realized that these two guys thought that I was having a major medical episode.

I felt well enough to stand, so I got up, and said, “Thanks for asking. You’re a good person,” and patted him on the shoulder. We walked back in as I told him what happened, and I said, “You must have thought I was having a heart attack.” He responded, “I did.” At this point, the tension eased in his mind from witnessing a major medical trauma, to watching some dolt getting nailed from hot sauce. I heard him tell his friend, “He had hot sauce go down his windpipe,” and I looked at his friend and said, “I thought I was going to die!” All three of us laughed at that point, because it had turned into slapstick comedy, and no damage was done.

I got my stuff (I was still pretty worn out from this), got into my car, wrote my email address down, and walked back inside. “If either of you two ever need any help with restaurants, just write me,” I said. They looked up and thanked me, and I thanked them back. The truth is: the gentleman who came to my car is the *only person* who was in a position to notice that I may have been having an acute medical emergency, and he actively did something about it. You read all these stories about people ignoring Joshua Bell playing violin in the Metro, and some injured girl lying there in Chinatown being ignored, but this story is the exact opposite: this good Samaritan could have made a life-or-death difference because of what he did. I was never in any danger, but I sure as heck could have been.

So, whoever you two are, THANK YOU. And I meant what I said about writing me for help, even if it’s ten years from now.

The barbecue was finished over the course of the afternoon – there was too much sauce (the meat was pre-sauced), and the collards really weren’t all *that* hot; it’s just that the trachea isn’t necessarily fortified against ghost peppers, or whatever Satanic mixture is in that XXX sauce!

This portion of food was so large that it is the entirety of what I’m going to eat today.

NB – Chicago Dawg House (in the same strip mall as Willard’s) is permanently closed, and they closed recently because I could swear they were open when I drove by there a couple of weeks ago.

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