Del Ray Cafe, Del Ray, Alexandria, VA

I met a couple friends for dinner last night at Del Ray Cafe. Frazzled and harried – it took me *one hour* to get there from Merrifield, and I was “not in the best of shape” when I arrived – I did get to taste through the restaurant’s best effort (these friends are regulars of Del Ray Cafe).

Although I haven’t been to Evening Star Cafe lately, I’ve been hearing mostly that it’s not what it once was (I can’t say this with any degree of confidence, however). I’d never been to Del Ray Cafe before, but I feel comfortable enough after last night (Risotto with Escargots and Black truffle, Quail with Cauliflower Mousseline and Asparagus, Crêpe Suzette) to promote it to Italic and raise it to the very top of the Del Ray section in the Dining Guide.

I cannot stress strongly enough how much Del Ray Cafe needs to lower the temperature of their red wines, which were served fully ten degrees too warm – they were good wines, but almost undrinkable because of their temperature. But this was the only flaw in an otherwise lovely dinner.

Cheers, Rocks

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Proof, Verizon Center

When a friend gives you $126 hockey tickets, 10 rows behind the goal, you take them, and then you worry a whole lot less about the cost of parking or dining.

Some valet-parking strategy at Proof: it’s $12 if you dine at the restaurant; it’s $20 for everything else. I told my valet I was going to the hockey game, and then coming back to dine at Proof, and got charged the full $20. If I were to do this over, I wouldn’t have mentioned the hockey game at all.

The first period was everything you could ask for in a hockey game: four goals scored in less than five minutes, three by the caps (Fehr, Johansson, and Laich). Relatively penalty-free playing, but for one rock-em, sock-em brawl that featured Strachen and Neil, pounding the crap out of each other. It was awesome.

Compare and contrast with my 24-ounce can of Miller Lite which, at $11 – yes, $11- was not awesome. Just in case that didn’t sink in, I paid $11 for a can of Miller Lite.

My young dining companion, for whom I set such a fine example, and I ambled back to Proof, and ran into the omnipresent Michael James at the host stand – we beat the crowds and could have gotten a table, but took a high-top at the bar instead. We each ordered two courses: me, an app+entree; him, an app+app.

If Matt’s Sautéed Potato Gnocchi with Autumn Squash & Sage Brown Butter ($15) was a legitimate appetizer portion, then you simply don’t need to get the bigger one at $27. This was right in the middle of app-entree, size-wise, and came with peeled Brussels sprouts, wild Hen of the Woods mushrooms, baby spinach (well-sautéed and coated), and Parmesan. We both agreed that, although it was fabulous gnocchi, it was a touch under salted, so I embarrassed Matt – he’s at that age where I embarrass him just by breathing  - by asking for some coarse salt which was all it needed. This was perhaps a touch more oily than gnocchi I’ve had here in the past, but given this dish’s history of greatness, the bar of comparison is set quite high.

My ample bowl of Gumbo of Shrimp, Oysters, Blue Crab, and Andouille Sausage ($14) was large enough to convince me that the gnocchi was indeed an appetizer portion – these are *large* appetizers, and really priced very gently considering what they are, and where they’re being served. A deep gumbo, with onions, peppers, celery, sassafras, rice, parsley, and scallions – it’s served piping hot – roof-of-the-mouth-goodbye-time hot – and has that deep, long-cooked flavor that gumbo so rarely has in these parts. The three pieces of shrimp were fanned and taut.

The generous portion sizes took a hiatus with the arrival of the Pan Roasted Hudson Valley Foie Gras ($19) with sweet cherry short cake, pistachio, cocoa nibs, and bing cherry jus. A delicious foie, served atop a silver-dollar sized blini-style pancake, it was accompanied by three bing cherries, and the summation of the cherry bulk was about equal to the size of the foie gras. It was teeny-tiny, and just too precious to drop $19 on – a very good dish that just fell short on the value end of the spectrum.

But this was compensated by my Sautéed Lamb Chops with Ragout of Farro & Lamb Shoulder ($31) – three beautiful chops, presented like the Triplets of Belleville atop pistachios, dried apricots, whipped yogurt (hiding underneath everything), pomegranate, almonds, and sumac. It sounds busy, but this very North African dish utilizes all these components to offset the intensely lamb-y lamb – it’s so refreshing to have lamb that doesn’t taste like beef.

This was a very good showing for Proof which remains the strongest Italic restaurant at Verizon Center (I still haven’t made it to Del Campo, so that’s pending) in the Dining Guide.

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Vidalia, Farragut North

I haven’t reviewed a meal at the great Vidalia in far, far too long. On a frigid, torrential Tuesday before Thanksgiving (when, of course, the parking meter wasn’t working and I got soaked), I stepped into Vidalia looking like a wet rat.

“Sommelier” Ed Jenks is now “GM” Ed Jenks.

“GM” Mike Nevarez is now “Director of Operations” Mike Nevarez.

And of course, executing Vidalia’s classic southern menu is now Chef Hamilton Johnson.

The bar menu online is from June 4th and is a bit outdated, but my friend stuck with bar bites and got more than his share of food for a whole lot less money than I paid; I was in a more celebratory mood, and wanted to see what this kitchen could do for me, so I went all-out with the Shenandoah Lamb Loin ($36.50), several medallions of loin with perfect fat-to-lean ratio, served with lamb-shoulder truffle bread pudding, scooped balls of butternut squash, fennel marmalade, pear, and lamb jus. A great, satisfying, fully composed dish topped with shavings of black truffle, served in a very Cam-like fashion in that everything was warm, but nothing was hot, and so the top end of the flavor profile was not lopped off. This was an extremely complex, luxurious dish that lost nothing when it slowly fell to room temperature as I nibbled and picked at it over the course of a good 45 minutes – it wasn’t a huge portion, and I left comfortably full and not stuffed, as I didn’t order an appetizer or dessert.

I’ve heard for a long time that Chef Johnson had really come into his own in taking control of Vidalia’s modern Southern menu, and on this desolate evening (the restaurant was very empty due to the day, the weather, and the week), it was obvious that was the case.

It’s hard not to go for the relatively inexpensive Bar Bites (especially when you’re sitting at the bar!), but I’m looking forward to seeing more of Chef Johnson’s handiwork in the future, and his best work almost surely lies in the more complex plates that challenge him the most.

Kudos also to our wonderful bartender, James, who graciously allowed us to overstay our visit and catch up over a few drinks, after the check was closed and as the staff was trying to clean up and get out early. In no way did we feel rushed or pressured; to the contrary, we were made to feel like family which is remarkable given the confluence of weather, evening, and week. Thank you to Vidalia for making us feel so welcome.

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San Francisco, San Mateo, and Fremont, CA

I recently spent 8 nights in the Bay Area of California: 3 evenings in San Francisco, 1 evening in San Mateo, and 4 evenings in Fremont.

Here are some reviews from my trip – sing to the tune of “I left my heart (and various other body parts) in San Francisco”

San Francisco

10/26 Delfina

10/27 Cowgirl Creamery Sidekick

10/27 La Coqueta

10/28 Rich Table

San Mateo

10/29 Sushi Sam’s

Fremont 

10/30 Pizza and Curry (also 10/31)

11/1     In-N-Out Burger

11/2    Dosa Hut

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Boundary Stone, Bloomingdale

Earlier this week, I met an old friend for drinks, and given that it was a Monday, our options were limited. We started checking off places, “Just went,” “Nah,” “Closed,” etc., and then Boundary Stone was presented to me as an option.

“Yes!”

On an icy-cold Monday, when I froze trying to find the place despite getting a great parking space, my friend had come early and snagged a couple seats at the end of the bar. Interestingly, she’d met a husband and wife who are just about to start an independent coffee roasting company here in DC – I’ll find out some more information about this when I can.

I was adequately warned that Boundary Stone isn’t a threat to win any culinary awards, but, especially given the frigid, windy weather outside, I was there for one reason and one reason only: whiskey.

They had a Willet single-barrel selection advertised on the chalkboard for $9, and I ordered it, and drained them dry – there wasn’t even a full pour left, so my (fantastic) bartender gave me a break on the price.

Wondering what to order next, he told me that Boundary Stone had recently bought an entire barrel from Woodford – 180 bottles worth which were stored in six-pack cases on top of their bar. A little worried about the price, my mind was put at ease when I found out it, too, was $9. (Incidentally, there’s a City Paper article about this here.)

I’m not necessarily the biggest Woodford fan there is, but since they hand-selected their own barrel (and these guys are serious about whiskey), I was comfortable ordering a glass. And a second. And a third. While I tend to steer towards the rye end of the spectrum, at one point I unselfishly said to the bartender, “I have to support my friends,” while selfishly enjoying this smooth, ample, fine Bourbon. One of the glasses was comped.

A little problem became a bigger problem, as I hadn’t eaten all day. The people next to us had ordered several things, one of which was Boundary Stone’s Chili Cheese Half Smoke ($12), the half-smoke itself made by our own 13th Street Meats, and topped with house-made chili and aged Vermont cheddar. Doesn’t this sound like a great sandwich? Well, it was pretty darned good, in a slutty sort of way, and came with a mound of fries. I knew this wasn’t going to be enough food for me, so I ordered a second one, hold the fries – I didn’t get a discount, but I did get offered a substitute (which I politely declined – at this point, I was in chili-dog scarfing mode, and I wasn’t about to let a salad stand in my way).

Okay, Boundary Stone serves not much more than good quality pub grub, but as a bar? Especially as a neighborhood whiskey and beer bar? It’s everything you could possibly ask for. And it’s for this reason that I’m raising Boundary Stone to Italic in the Dining Guide. This is a great local tavern.

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Woodward Table, McPherson Square

DonRocks, on 18 Apr 2013 – 12:02 PM, said:

I wanted to get the drinks out of the way so I could focus on one particularly outstanding item. In fact, it may be the single best bagel-based dish I’ve ever eaten. On the bar menu, the most expensive item (except for the burger) is The Fishmonger’s Board ($15.50). If you like bagels, cream cheese, and smoked salmon, this is the platter of your dreams. Enough for two people to split, this wooden plank is a bounty of smoked, marinated, and house-cured fish and shellfish including two types of salmon, two types of scallops, two types of spreads, smoked trout, an array of wonderful pickled vegetables, and four mini-bagels, conveniently split. It is nothing short of astounding, wonderful, and I hope and pray for everyone that Woodward Table is featuring this on their new Brunch menu – they began serving brunch on March 31st. Do yourself a favor and get this, and be hungry when you do. It’s fantastic! And I finished every single crumb.

Seven months after I previously got The Fishmonger’s Board ($15.50) at Woodward Table, I ordered it again, this time positively raving about it to my young dining companion on our way to brunch. It was this dish that pried us away from Mintwood Place, our other consideration.

While still a good value at $15.50, it’s no longer a “bagel-based” dish; the four mini-bagels it came with in April have shrunk in number to two. And while the amount of seafood is about the same, the quality of what was on the board went noticeably downhill, and it was essentially now a fork-based dish for which the precious two mini-bagels are best conserved as food-pushers – they need to bump this back up to four bagels, even if it means leaving out some seafood.

A pile of small, flavorless, hard (surely defrosted) shrimp typified what was on the platter now, which went from being “the best bagel dish I’ve ever had” to “an ordinary cold fish platter.” There was smoked trout, pickled herring, smoked mussels, mini-scallops in what seemed like a hollandaise-based sauce, etc., but there was nothing special here, there were too many vinegar-based items on the board, and it was not a dish I would go out of my way for (which I did) – what a disappointment this was.

I had it alongside my Diet Coke ($3.25, cheerfully refilled without me asking).

The better of the two items ordered was the Kentucky Hot Brown ($14.75), a regional sandwich (that I haven’t seen in the DC area) with turkey breast, several generous strips of Benton’s bacon, grilled tomato, and mornay sauce, served closed-faced (this is traditionally open-faced) on “toasted brioche” which Matt astutely recognized as “French toast” which is what it was. Highlighted by the piping hot mornay sauce, this was a natural topping for the turkey, and was a very satisfying sandwich – knife-and-fork all the way.

The disappointment of the Fishmonger’s Board outweighed the pleasant surprise of the Kentucky Hot Brown, but this was still a good, satisfying brunch. At around 11:30 AM on a Sunday, parking at 15th and H Streets was surprisingly difficult, and the food took longer than expected to arrive, so this turned out to be a longer expedition than either of us had expected.

Woodward Table is maintained in Italic, but mentally downgraded by me, just a bit.

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Full Kee, Bailey’s Crossroads, VA

Last night, after having nibbled on some leftovers at the normal dinner hour, I put my head down, started working on this website, and poured myself into it. When I looked up, it was after 1 AM! I was hungry, and had no food in the house. 

I turned to the Late Night Dining Guide (you need to be signed in to see this) which, thanks to some of our wonderful members such as chaofun, is now up to 66 restaurants which offer service after midnight! I made a couple calls, and on this Monday night, got a couple of “Oh, we closed our kitchen early this evening,” which I find understandable but irksome. 

But Full Kee was open, and in honor of chaofun’s help, I ordered him. I *never* order Chow Foon because it’s so often glop, but Full Kee’s Dry Stir Fried Beef Chow Foon ($11.95) was anything but – they waited until I arrived to fry it (because it only takes a couple minutes), and it was piping hot (a critical trait), not greasy, was fried in very clean oil, not overcooked, and spiked with just the right amount of dry beef. It was the antithesis of everything I normally detest about Chow Foon, and it was delicious.

Sitting on the passengers seat of my car was a mixing bowl (which had been sitting on a heated seat) and a fork. Before driving away, I transferred the Chow Foon into the bowl, and by the time I got home, it was gone.

Thank you, Full Kee, for coming to the rescue of a hungry, late-night worker at 1:30 AM.

PS – Full Kee’s menu features Cantonese, Hong Kong, Szechuan, and Hunan style cuisine. I asked the owner what he felt they did best, and he said Cantonese and Hong Kong. “Szechuan and Hunan are on the menu because they’re easy,” he said. I also asked him what one dish he’d order here late at night. “The same one you did,” he replied. 

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Beuchert’s Saloon, Capitol Hill

I stopped into Beuchert’s last night, and grabbed the 9th and rightmost seat at the “Chef’s Table” – the bar right in front of the cooks. On Tuesday through Thursday, a separate tasting menu is available in these nine seats.

A full bottle of 2008 Domaine de la Chique Côtes du Rousillon ($30) only cost triple the by-the-glass price, so I sprang for it, and took the undrunk portion home with me. (I’m not sure how many people employ this strategy, but it makes *so much sense* that I hope people are taking note). This domaine at one time had the largest olive grove in all of France (!), and still maintains 40 hectares (about 100 acres) of olive trees which surround and protect their vineyard that produces (for this wine, anyway) 50% Grenache (giving the wine a lovely red color and aromatic), 20% Syrah (lending depth) and 30% Carignan (not my favorite grape, but one which certainly adds tannin and structure).

It was Andrew Markert’s night off, but Sous Chef Tim Rowley (formerly of Tallula) was expediting in perfect form, and it was a pleasure to observe both him and the lightning-responsive line cooks in action. It was very hot in that kitchen (which might explain why the red wine needed to be chilled), and these cooks were *exercising*, and I mean they were *working*.

I asked one of the cooks if the Porter-Braised Bison Short Ribs ($29) were cooked sous-vide. I’ve become so paranoid about seeing “braised” and “slow-cooked” on menus that I ask each-and-every time now, and it is a rare occasion that I’ll spring for meats cooked sous-vide. The cook said no, turned around and pointed at the stove, and said “they’re done right here.” As it turns out, they’re pot-braised in porter for 4-6 hours – a true braise, and one that reveals itself on the palate. A wedge of three ribs with a *huge* amount of meat on them, it’s served atop sweet potato dumplings and red-eye jus, and topped (yes, topped) with a little fennel and beet salad. Short ribs are everywhere, but this was an excellent rendition that was worth every penny – there wasn’t a single scrap left on my plate after my leisurely, hour-long excursion through this fine entree.

It’s impossible to be in my position and not become sensitive to just how hard cooks work, and I’m well-aware of how little they get paid. After the meal, I handed Tim a twenty, and asked him to buy his cooks a post-shift beer. Yes, it was a lot of money, but at this particular moment, I wanted them to have it instead of me. It is more often than not awkward to do this type of thing, but it’s the only way to get real money into the pockets of cooks, dishwashers, and AGMs – three of the hardest-working, most underpaid jobs there are. I hope more people will seek out a manager, or the head bartender, hand them a five, or a ten, or whatever they’re comfortable with, and ask them to make sure it gets to the cooks in one form or another. It can be done discretely and without fanfare, and I suspect it’s very much appreciated – I certainly appreciate everything they do for me.

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Old Anglers Inn, Potomac, MD

I had lunch at Old Anglers Inn with ol_ironstomach yesterday, and having had Nick Palermo’s cooking in the past, knew it was going to be good, but I didn’t know it was going to be *this* good.

I’ve never really understood the dish Soup du Jour ($8), as it seems to be different every time I order it. Anyway, yesterday it was a Cream of Mushroom soup with mushroom fricassée, and it reminds me of why I’ve been having a renaissance of late with mushrooms. For awhile, I’d over-ordered them and got long-term sick of them (which is how I am right now with scallops), but recently, I’ve found myself falling in love with them all over again. This was a great soup, piping hot, with essence of mushroom both in the broth and the fricassée, aggressively but not over-salted, and along with the fireplace and the charm of an inn serving diners since 1860, a wonderful welcome to today’s winter chill.

Dave stuck with a second small plate for his main, and got a fabulous Roasted Spanish Octopus ($13) with black-eyed pea ragu, olives, and tomato fondue. Hinging on the quality and execution of the octopus, this was a triumph, the firm-but-tender octopus legs cut into thick coins and served on a beautifully seasoned mound of primary black-eyed pea ragu. If you have any inkling (get it?) for octopus, do not hesitate to order this fine and hearty appetizer.

Unless, of course, you want to celebrate Thanksgiving early like I did, ordering the Roasted Amish Chicken ($20) with Granny Smith apple and chestnut stuffing, chorizo, brussel sprouts, and chicken jus. First of all, the chicken: it was darned near perfect, with a crackling, crispy, skillet-hot skin encasing brined, moist, tender meat – even the breast meat was interesting and … no, it wasn’t “interesting”; it was excellent. Filet mignon and chicken breast are two dishes I consider to be chef-weeders because nobody seems to have the ability to cook them – there’s absolutely nothing wrong with either cut of meat, but so few people are able to pull them off. Well, this is in the running for “best chicken in the DC area.” And the stuffing was just wonderful, intelligently not relying on too much of anything – with the possible exception of chestnuts, any one of these ingredients could have ruined the dish had it been too prominent, but it was not the case. The brussel sprouts were peeled into nori-like sheets and not served in the “death-ball” format that Waitman so throughly despises. Just when I was insisting that you order the octopus, along comes this chicken. Get it!

Old Anglers has a “lunch deal” where if you order an appetizer and entree, you can get 50% off dessert, and our charming, enthusiastic server was raving about pastry chef Tressa Wiles, so Dave and I “bit,” so to speak, ordering one dessert apiece and splitting them both. My Rosemary and Fig Cake ($9) with roasted figs, and yogurt-and-fromage-blanc sorbet was lovely, especially the firm figs and homemade sorbet, my one niggle was the actual cake which was a bit too similar, both in form and flavor to the rosemary focaccia we got in our bread basket – this of course is somewhat coincidental, but I would advise Chef Wiles to change up the cake itself while leaving the rest of the dish intact. Dave went straight for the Gingerbread Cake ($10) with poached pear, and molasses-and-vanilla ice cream, the entire dish being a winner with me, and the little cuts of pear being similar in size to the small figs on the other plate. It was tough to say “I’ve had enough,” and pass the last bite of each back across the table while I finished my Cappucino (a painful $6 because I had two, and Dave had one). 

Of note: seated right next to us was none other than Sam Donaldson. A gentleman of manners and politesse, standing up until his companion was seated, standing whenever she stood, wearing an elegant blazer and speaking in a commanding voice. I was very impressed with his presence in this quiet, mostly empty restaurant, until his cell phone rang, and he began having a conversation right then-and-there, in a raised cell-phone voice. I understand that Mr. Donaldson is 79 (and fresh off a DUI dismissal!), but unless this was President Obama on the phone, it would have been nice had he waited to take the call until after lunch, or excused himself from the table. Still, I’m willing to cut him some slack simply because of his age.

Old Anglers Inn, long-forgotten by the DC restaurant world, is suddenly a serious contender for Best Restaurant in Suburban Maryland, with deferential nods to Sudhir Seth and Jeff Heineman. Make no mistake, it’s right up there with The Red Hen in quality, and in fact, I see something of a similarity in style (distant cousins) – if you like one, I think you may like the other. Give it a try – it’s been too long.

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Chipotle Grill, Fairfax, VA

It isn’t often I head into Chipotle Grill, but it happens on occasion, and I think I’ve finally narrowed down my order of preference.

I’d dropped off Matt at a school function, and the new Fairfax Chipotle Grill on Picket Street was just … sitting … right … there, like a ring on a carousel for the plucking. So I plucked it.

A Large Burrito (burrito, not bowl), filled with grilled steak (grillled steak, not carnitas, nor chicken, nor barbacoa), pinto beans (not black beans), cilantro-lime rice (not plain rice), salsa verde and corn salsa (not hot sauces), shredded cheese, guacamole, sour cream, and romaine lettuce, and there you have my current favorite flavor combination. I’m not sure exactly what this costs (though it is well-marked), but the bill, with a large Diet Coke and Fairfax City tax came out to $8.91. This is heavy, very salty – deceptively salty – food, that invariably makes me thirsty and bloated for several hours if not longer. I find myself spending a considerable amount of time at the water fountain. But I had this meal, with no chips, at around 3 in the afternoon, and wanted virtually nothing the rest of the night. Chipotle Grill’s burritos are generously portioned, fairly priced, and are most certainly a guilty pleasure of mine that I don’t mind succumbing to on occasion.

Perhaps *the* fast-casual model for all others to follow since all available flavors work together – the diner could throw a dart, and still come up with a winning flavor combination. Within its genre, Chipotle Grill is very well done. A case could be made for putting it in Italic in the Dining Guide, but, as tasty as it is, what it does well in consistency and flavor, it creates by using large amounts of calories, sodium, and fat. You could certainly do worse than Chipotle Grill.

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