Grapeseed Bistro & Wine Bar, Bethesda

Posted on April 13, 2016 by Don

On Friday evening, I *finally* got out to one of Grapeseed’s Friday-night Dinners, a multi-course menu that, in this case, coincided with their 16th anniversary – it was a “Best Of,” four-course, prix-fixe menu for $45 ($11.25 per course). Chef-owner-star-athlete Jeff Heineman often gives members of donrockwell.com a meaninful discount when attending these meals – all you have to do is join, and it doesn’t cost you a dime to do so.

After having a seat at the bar, I wound down with a happy-hour $5 wine: an Adras Godello – Grapeseed offers a select group of wines (decent wines) which are five dollars for a generous glass from 5-7 PM.

This, before finding out that Scott Johnston had bought me, as a gift, the wine pairing to go with the tasting menu (thank you, Scott!), so I had plenty to drink with my meal for the entire evening. That’s the type of warm, friendly nature that Jeff Heineman helps to foster on donrockwell.com – although I could hardly conceal the joy on my face when I found what Scott had done for me, it didn’t surprise me one bit. That’s the way the website is with each of its members, and the only way for you to really know is to join and find out for yourselves. I always tell people to write me if there’s a problem, and in eleven years, there have been almost no letters in my mailbox, other than ones lauding the community for being so knowledgeable and kind, and the discussion on such a consistently high level.

And so, the tasting menu it was, and I was starving because I hadn’t eaten all day. Grapeseed’s four-course Friday-night Dinners are a steal, and if you haven’t tried them, you’ve really missed out. For many years, I’ve had two restaurants – Passage to India and Grapeseed – ranked #1 and #2 in Bethesda in the Maryland Dining Guide, and have been unwavering in my support of them; yet, their reputation among DC-area food lovers are just not very high, similar to nearly every other restaurant from the Maryland suburbs with the possible exception of some Chinese restaurants in Rockville, and some informal, inexpensive mom-n-pops in Beltsville; regardless of the reasons, I can say with great confidence that these two are among the very best restaurants in Montgomery County, and the Friday-night prix-fixe dinners are an inexpensive way to familiarize yourself with the caring, family-run atmosphere of Grapeseed, at nearly Restaurant Week pricing – this, with more food, and better food.

After relaxing with my Godello (and to tell you the truth, I have not found one single Godello that even remotely resembles the glorious wines that I had in Galicia, Spain in 2007 when I traveled over there with Gerry Dawes, visiting winery-after-winery. The curmudgeonly Gerry is the world’s leading authority on Spanish food and wine who lives outside of Spain, and if you think that hyperbolic accolade sounds impossible, you simply haven’t yet met Gerry – the man knows *everything*, as he has made the county and its culture his only purpose in life. If you want a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Spain, and don’t mind paying real money for his expertise, I would urge you to at least contact him – tell him you’re a friend of mine, and see what he has to say.

I began my meal with a Peruvian dish: Peruvian Causa (a potato-based dish), with House Made Ossabaw Prosciutto (aging for two years), avocado, and crab. At an average of $11.25 per dish, you wouldn’t expect the first course to be so bulky, but the potatoes allow it to contain some heft while judicious portions of the Prosciutto and crab act as flavoring agents more than primary ingredients. Grapeseed seems to lack a full-time saucier to integrate the dishes, so my one knock on the restaurant is that certain things are “ingredient-driven” and combinatorial rather than they are down the street at Passage to India, where saucing and long-cooking are two integral components – two such very different restaurants, both wonderful in their own way. My first “tasting wine” (technically a three-ounce pour; in reality more like four, which often happens here with diners) was a Galerie Sauvignon Blanc, much more pungent, and with better supporting acidity, than a typical Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc, which tend to be flabby and put their hot climate on full display; not here. Look for this wine on their menu when you order, and you’ll be pleasantly surprised – I, myself, was silently thanking Scott Johnston, and I still had three wines remaining (the price of a wine tasting to accompany the meal is something of a pittance: $20)

Next up was a wonderful piece of Black Sea Bass with Bouillabaisse sauce. I hadn’t glanced at the menu, but noticed a roux-like substance on one of the crostini, mentioning that they must be trying to imitate Bouillabaisse Marseillaise, and sure enough they were. This dish was halfway between a fish dish with sauce (it was, after all, a good-sized portion of black sea bass), and a bouillabaisse (as it was served atop a hot broth, almost making it into a soup should the diner wish to cut their fish). After taking a tiny nibble of each ingredient, I mixed everything together with gusto – exercising caution not to cut up my fish in order to keep it warm, deciding instead to cut-and-soak each individual bite as I went along. The wine was a Genio Espagnol Monastrell Rosado which went perfectly with the seemingly sriracha-flavored aïoli substituting for a true roux.

The crescendo continued with an Elephant Trunk Sea Scallop, with lobster mashed potatoes, and pine-nut lemon vinaigrette – the lobster mashed potatoes being the star of the show here, as there was a hefty portion of lobster in the mashed potatoes – I was surprised to receive only one small scallop until I realized the generous portion of lobster meat, and think this dish could have tolerated a second scallop, but again, after reminding myself that these averaged $11.25 per dish, there was no legitimate complaint I could register, especially after seeing the potatoes. Pairing with this was a Two Sisters Chardonnay – a $50+ bottle at retail which amplified the butter in both the potatoes and the vinaigrette. The wine alone was worth close to the price of the dish.

Finally, Duck Confit with House Made Gnocchi, Tomato Jam, and Ramp Butter, served with a Lake Chalice Pinot Noir which is one flavor I had been missing all evening – a fruit-driven Pinot Noir from New Zealand that turned a white-wine meal into a red-wine finish. I made sure to save half my wine for the dessert which I knew I was coming, and would put as an extra charge on my bill: Chocolate Crẽmeux (I’m a sucker for red wine with chocolate, three mounds of mousse-like chocolate drizzled with salted caramel and devil’s food crumb – this could have tolerated (perhaps even benefitted from) a darker red, but also went just fine with my New Zealand Pinot Noir.

Thanks especially to Scott Johnston, the bill for this meal was somewhat ridiculous, and if you’ve missed out on Grapeseed’s Friday Night tastings, you’ve been doing yourselves a disservice. Go, and go at your first opportunity – coupled with their bar happy hour which runs from 5-7, you can eat here like a king at a pauper’s ransom, especially if you start early.

Grapeseed is not a fancy restaurant in the least – it’s a neighborhood tavern where people are welcome in t-shirts and jeans, and has been serving this level of food for sixteen full years – it is one of Bethesda’s great culinary treasures: a Cheers-like bar where people remember your name on your second visit, and where you always leave feeling satisfied, and wondering if you’re sure you paid enough for your meal, especially if you got one of these Friday-night specials. What an exemplary neighborhood restaurant this is!

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Tail Up Goat, Adams Morgan

Posted on April 6, 2016 by Don

How to tell the difference between the two from a distance, on an island overrun with both: “Tail up goat. Tail down sheep.”

Such is the origin behind the name of Adams Morgan’s hottest new restaurant, Tail Up Goat – and I loathe to use the word “hot,” but that’s what it is, yes, already.

Late on a Tuesday evening, around 8 PM, I called just to make sure it wasn’t full, and was told that the bar area is first-come, first-serve, and that a couple is finishing up their entrees right now (so yes, it was full). I suppose I arrived around 9 PM, trying to park in the lot just south of the new building housing both Tail Up Goat and Philz Coffee (Tail Up Goat is hard to see, but it’s around the corner, on the north side of the building, on Adams Mill Road).

I pulled into the parking lot, which had a bunch of towing signs on the wall, and began to turn around and leave before seeing an attendant. “How much is parking?” I asked. “Twenty dollars,” he replied. “Nah, that’s too much,” I said, and he answered, “How long will you be here?” I said “About seventy-five minutes,” and he said, “You can park for ten dollars.” It was Tuesday night at 9 PM, and even in Adams Morgan I knew I’d find a space, so I politely declined and went on my way. Take note: the “twenty-dollar” parking charge might be negotiable.

I walked into a full Tail Up Goat, and while the main restaurant on the other side of the divider was full, there were two seats available facing the wall on the side counter near the bar, and I nabbed one of them (I hate seats like these, because the wall is right in front of you – but they’re designed to be a holding area). Unfortunately, I sat there for about five minutes without being waited on (was I supposed to walk up to the bar?) Anyway, two bar seats opened up a few minutes later, and I looked at the hostess, inquisitively – she nodded her head, I took one of them, and from that point forward, service was delightful.

You’ll be initially taken back by the price of beverages here – they’re expensive, and there’s no getting around it. I desperately searched for something in the single-digits before stumbling across something I’d never seen before: a Grapefruit Radler ($7 for a 16-ounce can) by Stiegl Brewery in Salzburg, Austria. And boy am I glad I did, because not only was it delicious, but it went perfectly with my entire meal. It was essentially a beer mixed with grapefruit juice, about half-and-half I think, and is less than 3.2% alcohol – that was fine by me, and you’ll be surprised at how good this is (it’s not overly sweet, which makes it something of a mead-like beverage).

Tail Up Goat has three “bread courses” which *start* at $10 each. ‘This had better be some pretty good bread,’ I thought to myself, before asking, and finding out that they were essentially open-faced sandwiches; not just bread (this is not clear from the menu, so don’t let it scare you away). I began my dinner with a Brown Rice Bread ($10) with fermented turnips, yogurt, and hazelnut picada, and I knew right away that I was in new culinary territory with Tail Up Goat – I’d never had anything like this in my life: An absolutely delicious wedge of bread, cut in half, about the length and width of a woman’s forearm from elbow to wrist, and almost an inch thick – slathered with these wonderful vegetarian toppings which were unlike anything I’d ever eaten. The bread was homemade and pretty-much perfect – calling for a knife-and-fork cut – and the flavors from the toppings knit together in a way that defined synergy – the sum was greater than the parts (even though the parts were wonderful), and this was one of the most delicious things I’ve eaten lately (I also hadn’t eaten in well over twelve hours, so I was starving).

I didn’t feel any need to change from my Grapefruit Radler for the duration of the meal, and continued with a small main course – a pasta dish – Maltagliati ($17), wide, sheet-like pasta, house-made, with fermented honey sausage, pea shoots, and a buttery or semi-creamy sauce that brought it all together. I was surprised at the intensity of the pea shoots, because there weren’t *that* many of them, but that’s what quality produce will do for you, and even though there wasn’t much sausage, that, too, permeated the dish – the sauce was the vehicle for all the flavors to co-mingle, and it was like a party of complimentary tastes, the pasta itself lending texture and substance. Although not a huge dish, the quantity rested in the quality.

About halfway through my pasta, I asked my kindly bartender if I could order something to go – I wanted to try some more of their menu, but my tank was getting full. Unfortunately, they don’t do carryout (unless you have leftovers on your plate), and it’s probably for the best. So I decided to stuff myself, and ordered a Mortadella Sammy ($6), which immediately got my bartender’s approval – she said that’s a dish where nearly everything is made in-house. The wonderful, brioche-like roll (this is essentially one single slider), house-made mortadella, fermented fennel, and preserved-lemon aïoli – I could have *sworn* there was cheese in this sandwich, but the menu says otherwise – *something* lends an intense flavor and binds it together, probably the fermented fennel.

My bartender asked me if I wanted to see the dessert menu. “See it, yes,” I said, “but *only* see it, because I’m stuffed.” Oh, it hurt to pass on the Budino, but that’s what next-time’s are for.

I’ve never had food like I had at Tail Up Goat, and I’m not even sure how to classify it – when I asked my bartender, she said that it couldn’t be pinned down to a single country, and she’s right. ‘It’s sort of Mediterranean,’ she said (or something like that), and I can see that, but I can also *not* see that. For now, I’m calling it “Modern Alpine” (a term I just made up because I can’t think of another) as well as “Modern Mediterranean” which doesn’t feel quite right – although I’ve been to Scandinavia, and even had dinner at the Michelin two-star Bagatelle in 2000, which was the only Michelin two-star restaurant in all of Norway until 2012, this was nothing like that, as Bagatelle was much more traditional and very seafood-oriented (the Porgy for Two caught my eye at Tail up Goat, and is something I plan on trying one of these days). However, there’s *something* about Tail Up Goat that gives a Scandinavian “feeling,” although I don’t know why – it’s kind of how I picture the modern-Scandinavian movement led by Noma, but I really don’t know much about that movement or its cuisine, and quite honestly, I really don’t know why I think that – perhaps it’s because I can’t think of anything else!

Needless to say, Tail Up Goat is ranked *strongly* in Italic, and is now officially christened as the #1 restaurant in Adams Morgan. Cedric, if you were at Mintwood Place full-time, it might be a different story, but I associate you now with Convivial, and in my mind, it’s essentially impossible for a chef to play ball at this level in two different restaurants, especially if they’re in different neighborhoods. Although you may not agree with me, I hope you understand. And for those who are curious, I would have had Convivial instead of The Dabney in the James Beard Awards for Best New Restaurant – regardless, I have it ranked as the #1 restaurant in Shaw, which is exactly where it belongs.

Although there is some painful mediocrity in the DC area of late, at the top level, life is awfully good right now, and Tail Up Goat is right up there. This is an important opening, and I predict great things for Tail Up Goat – congratulations to all who are involved with this fine restaurant which doesn’t even blink when it comes to using fermentation, mild sweetness, and texture as integral parts of its cuisine.

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Trummer’s on Main, Clifton

Posted on April 5, 2016 by Don

(Click here for the Jun 5, 2011 Review)

Trummer’s on Main is still the beautiful building it was, and the last few miles of the drive down Chapel Road are as nice as any in the area. The bar itself remains absolutely stunning, and was nearly empty on a Sunday night, even though the parking lot was full and upstairs was undoubtedly packed.

My bartender has been at Trummer’s for quite awhile, but he’s not going to be there much longer, as he’ll be seeking a new lot in life within the next couple of weeks – and I wish him the absolute best in his journey. I ended my drive out to Clifton with an Elliot Ness Amber Lager ($6) by Great Lakes Brewing Company in Cleveland – I love this beer, and whenever I travel to the midwest, I keep an eye out for offerings by Great Lakes Brewing Company. Although Trummer’s is best known for their cocktails, they have a few really nice beers on their menu as well, and for some reason, I don’t seem to mind paying triple-retail for a $6 beer as much as I mind paying triple-retail for a glass of wine, or $12 for a cocktail (Trummer’s excellent cocktails, which I’ve enjoyed in the past, are $12).

Bar-Menu-Absinthe-12.8.15-copy

Under Chef Austin Fausett, the menu at Trummer’s has really changed, and I ordered two dishes which sounded interesting to me – note that these are from the regular Dinner Menu, and not from the Bar Menu. I began with the Sweetbread & Chorizo ($15) appetizer with chimichuri mayo and plantains. I don’t like taking pictures of dishes, but it would have been much easier to simply show you what this looked like with a photo. It came out kabob-style, in a line, alternating sweetbread, chorizo, plantain, sweetbread, chorizo, plantain, etc., the entire line fixed to the dish by a very thin scraping of chimichuri mayo underneath. Off to the side, there were also three dots of the chimichuri mayo in case you wanted a tiny amount of extra dunking. The sweetbreads were lightly breaded and seemingly deep-fried, but were not hot when they arrived, the chorizo was like no chorizo I’ve ever eaten, and I wouldn’t have guessed it was chorizo – it was also seemingly lightly breaded and deep-fried, but I’m not quite sure how it was cooked. Nevertheless, it had excellent flavors, and was much more mild than what I was expecting, so it didn’t overwhelm the sweetbreads. The crispy slices of plaintain served as separators as much as anything, and if you ate from one-side-to-the-other (as I suspect most people do), it provides a textural crunch in one-third of the bites – the plantains were mild, and not unlike what you’d buy in a health-food store. Everything was bite-sized, although I cut each of my meats in two to make the dish last longer. The kabob-like line itself was perhaps eight inches long, so there wasn’t a huge amount of food here. The flavors didn’t really “mesh” so much as they “didn’t clash,” and the temperature was just not hot enough to make this a great dish – it *must* have been fried earlier, although I can’t say for sure. The one thing missing from this dish, as trite as it may sound, was love – this was just a presentation of food, and while both meats were quite good, cut properly, and seasoned well, it just didn’t integrate, and the only way I’ll remember it a year from now is to refer back to this note.

With my main course I got a glass of the NV Trummer’s House Label Cabernet Sauvignon ($10), which was a couple dollars less expensive than the name wines. This came from Barboursville, Virginia, and my bartender confirmed that it came from Barboursville Vineyards. A Chardonnay is also on offer for $8, and when I asked my bartender how the wine was, he said it was light, done in stainless steel instead of oak (“Buddy, you’re talking to me like I’m your best friend!”) My guess is that since it’s non-vintage, Barboursville sells off young-vines wine, and wouldn’t hesitate to marry different vintages in one cuvée, which is fine. What isn’t fine is that the wine was resting atop the counter of the bar, and was, simply put, one of the warmest red wines I have ever been served in a restaurant – and that’s saying something. My guess is somewhere in the mid-70’s – the room itself felt perfectly comfortable, but it must have been slightly hotter behind the bar because this was absolutely warmer than 72 degrees. It ruined an otherwise “pleasant” table wine, which has seen very little bottle age, and was dominated by fruit-forward flavors, but not astringent tannins and (blessedly) no oak. Nevertheless, the wine was ruined, and it was poured right when my entrée arrived, so there was none of this “Could you stick it in the freezer for ten minutes?” tactic available to use – I choked it down, but Trummer’s should have paid *me* ten dollars to drink this otherwise-pleasant quaffer.

I ordered the House Cabernet because I asked my bartender how well he knew the menu (“Fairly well”), and asked his opinion between the Cheshire Pork Loin Wrapped in Mustard Greens and the Local Angus Beef Flank Steak ($29) with dandelion greens, olive yogurt, asparagus, and lemon-anchovy butter – he said hands-down the Steak, explaining that it was really special. I said “A medium-rare flank steak sounds pretty good to me right about now,” and he replied, “Yes, they’re all medium-rare.” *CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!* “Is it cooked sous-vide, then seared?” I asked. “No, it’s seared first, then cooked sous-vide for three-and-a-half hours,” he replied. Given that we just had a dust-up about sous-vide cooking here, I went with the steak, yet again preparing to be open-minded.

This was an unusually presented flank steak (I’m used to a big, long thing flopping off the plate; this was sliced, with a little of the butter melting atop, the greens spread throughout, and the yogurt resting at the base of the plate). Sigh, let’s get this out of the way. First of all, it wasn’t medium-rare, it was – at best – medium, but closer to medium-well in terms of color. The texture of the steak was all wrong – despite being long cooked, it was both tough and flavorless, bordering on being dry. I’m not familiar with searing steaks *before* giving them a bath, but you should consider this a cautionary tale should you ever hear of such a thing again. It wasn’t “bad,” mind you, and this is *exactly* why I think sous-vide is such a revolutionary technique for places like jails or hospitals who can keep their costs down by not having chefs – you can put out a decent-tasting plate of food that even a fool couldn’t foul up, but the upper-limits of the quality aren’t very upper. I finished the dish – it was fine – but I’ll never order it again, that’s for sure. Twenty-nine dollars for this plate of food? No thank you.

I hadn’t eaten all day, and had worked out, so I knew I’d be hungry later if I didn’t drink eat something else. I asked my bartender what types of Bourbon they had, and he pointed out the list on the dessert menu. I noticed a Wild Turkey for $8, and just to make sure, I asked if it was the 101 (it was) – let me tell you something, folks, there’s *nothing wrong* with Wild Turkey 101, and it’s often better and cheaper than most bourbons on a restaurant list. As a daily-drinking Bourbon, I’ll take this anytime, and you should file that away for future reference. Once again, I asked my bartender about recommendations, this time for dessert, and he said, without hesitation, the beignets. “Stefan and Victoria scoured New Orleans, trying every beignet they could find,” he said, so I ordered the Cinnamon Sugar Beignets ($12), which were served freshly fried, and with a side-cup of piping-hot chocolate and whipped cream for dipping. My plate consisted of five very large beignets, each the size of a plum – now granted, these were not cheap, but they were delicious, and so massive that I ended up eating two, drinking the final gulp of hot chocolate, and taking three home wrapped in a paper napkin to have with my coffee the next morning (and it was a good call, too). I can gladly recommend that you order these if you come here – they really are good.

Trummer’s on Main is maintained in Italic, and if you’re in the Clifton area, is worth a visit, but do not order blindly – ask questions, and if you don’t like what you hear, keep asking. It’s a wonderful institution that has seen better days in the kitchen, but it remains very good in the grand scheme of things. Will I have cravings to hop in the car and drive out to Clifton? No, but I wouldn’t avoid it, either. Over the years, I’ve been here probably between five and ten times, and I will be back in the future to see what they’re up to. I have this little voice in the back of my head telling me the chef is better than what I experienced on this Sunday evening.

Trummer'sDinnerTrummer'sDessert

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Requin, Pop-Up, Mosaic District

Posted on March 30, 2016 by Don

This is the first time, and perhaps the last time, I review a pop-up restaurant – there are just too many variables at play that I’m unfamiliar with. The dinnerware, for example. How am I supposed to evaluate this? I really have no idea, because I just have no experience with pop-ups and the problems that accompany them. One pop-up might have stumbled upon some fantastic dinnerware, and another might be saving their money for their “real” restaurant – there’s no way for me to know.

I met a friend at Requin, and our eager server – Great American Restaurant Group-trained – was anxious to cue in on our movements. He rushed over, for example, when we looked up from our menus – it had a certain degree of charm, but also a certain robotic component to it. Regardless, he was aiming to please, and I didn’t wait long at all for my Founder’s Breakfast Stout ($8), cheerfully poured into my glass for me. Our enthusiastic server having taken a fair amount of time to explain the three sections of the menu to us, we were left with no doubt that the first section was hors d’oeuvres, the second section was appetizers, and the third section was dishes for two people to share (and I mean right down to the average number of bites of food per person), and that people generally leave happiest if they order a couple small plates, and split an order for two. Note that the large portions were indeed large, but that you’ll be committing quite a bit of money to them, at least in Merrifield terms, so make sure at least two people really want what you order:

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There are certain things this restaurant does very well, and there are also several things this restaurant does catastrophically wrong. One of which I’ll merely touch on, because I understand this is supposed to be a temporary restaurant (but it has been open nearly four months now): It’s perfectly fine to use “Franglais” on your menu, mixing French and English, but *please* pay someone twenty dollars to proofread the menu, which has numerous errors in spelling, grammar, tense agreement, and as a result, comes across as somewhat slapdash. If you’re going to throw in some French, by all means do, but get it right, and definitely don’t let this very fixable problem carry over into the permanent space. For example, there is *no such thing* as <<petites plâques>> on a restaurant menu, and your server spoke the term as well – it does not exist in restaurant parlance.

We decided to go with our server’s advice, and get two appetizers and a large dish to share, starting with Lobster Ravioli ($18) with potato, leek, and spinach, and Grilled Swordfish ($15) with harissa, beluga lentil[s], and radicchio. These dishes were essentially served at the same time, and my first bite was of half a ravioli – “Hmm, Jennifer’s pulling a Yannick Cam,” I said to myself, noticing that the dish was served pretty much at room temperature, maybe slightly warmer. There were a total of five ravioli, in a sauce very much like a New England Clam Chowder thickened with potato, and temperature aside, it was quite good (my dining partner proclaimed it her favorite dish of the evening). I then took a bit of the lentils, saying to myself, “This is cold.” Not room temperature, but cold – the tiny little chunks of swordfish were slightly warm, but the lentil salad accompanying them was cold – clearly intentional, but it took us off-guard, and it would have been nice to know this in advance if it wasn’t a mistake.

Our dishes were served on two medium-sized serving dishes, while our “plates” were tiny little bread plates, square, perhaps 5-by-5 inches at most. Speaking of which, we got no bread, and there was a critical sauce component with the ravioli, as well as the lentil salad, so when our server came over and asked us if we needed anything, I asked for some bread. He offered me some “crostini for $2, or some garlic bread for $3.” I didn’t need garlic bread; merely something to soak up the sauce with, so I ordered the crostini, not realizing that it would be served in the most literal of terms: we got a basket with five tiny, thin slices of baguette that had been grilled or toasted into the actual meaning of crostini: crust. They were the consistency of croutons, and we had as much chance of swabbing up our sauce as we would have had with a little dish of saltine crackers. Well, they served adequately as food-pushers for the lentil salad, but were otherwise extremely disappointing, and they also tell me not to order the crostini-based small plates here, which is one of the “small plates” they offer. Even though crostini are traditionally hard and crunchy, when you order them in this town, you’re more often than not going to get something more like bruschetta – grilled, but not to complete crunchiness – they serve no purpose at all, unless you were to order a bowl of soup and immerse them completely. Still, the swordfish dish was quite good as well, so both dishes had very good flavors, and some potential.

Out came the chicken on a huge serving platter. Our plates were changed (we got new little square bread plates), but our silverware wasn’t – we were left with the same dirty silverware we’d used for our first courses (yes, I’m sure our server would have happily brought us new knives and forks, but at these prices, you don’t ask for such things – they’re just supposed to happen). Both my dining companion and I were intrigued by the chicken, so I asked our server early on how long it would take to roast. “We can have it whenever you want,” he said. At Kinship, for example, the order must be placed 80 minutes before the chicken is served, because that’s how long it takes them to roast it. Here, our server said he could have it right after we finished our appetizers.

“It’s cooked sous-vide then,” I said.

“Yes.”

“And finished in the oven.”

“That’s right.”

$39 for pre-cooked chicken. Well, at least it was very good chicken, cut into four pieces (white-dark-white-dark), and served with a large serving cup of pommes purées (“potatoes with butter and cream,” our server said; “cream with potatoes and butter,” I thought to myself, wondering how many calories were in this), and a wonderful side of root vegetables – red beets, golden beets, carrots – that was as beautiful as it was delicious. And to top everything off, a pitcher of truffle jus which we decided to keep and add ourselves. We clumsily put a piece of the white-meat chicken on our plate, which took up about two-thirds of the space, ladled some pommes purées next to it, using it as a dipping sauce because there was no other choice due to space constraints, and poured a bit – just a bit – of the truffled jus atop things – there was only room for a couple tablespoons-worth because the plates were so ridiculously small, that it would have gone over-the-edge. The crostini sat there, being used occasionally to push a falling item back onto the plate. Well, the chicken might have been cooked sous-vide before being finished in the oven, but it was still delicious roast chicken, brined for 24 hours before being cooked, and moist throughout – including the thickest portion of the breast meat.

All-in for two, with two beers, no dessert, two apps, one entrée for two, tax, and tip: $113.40.

So flavor-wise, we batted three-for-three at Requin (which means “shark” in French). It was the little things – the menu, the bread, the temperature, the dinnerware – that ratcheted this meal down a few notches, and if you go, make *sure* you bring up these four things *before* you order: get the garlic bread, not the crostini; make sure they know you want the items hot (if you do); ask for large dinner plates; and ask that your silverware be changed in-between courses. If you do these four things, and order the exact same items we did, you’ll come away from your meal happy enough. This restaurant needs to be secret-shopped, and I hope they take this review as a well-meaning secret shop, because that’s kind of what it is. If they listen to what I’m advising them here, they’ll make a lot more customers happy, because it’s the little things that first-time chefs sometimes just don’t see, but people like me see day-in and day-out. I hope Requin does well – they have the potential to do so.

The food at Requin tasted very good; it’s all the other little things that worry me, such as them operating in the freshly vacated Gypsy Soul space, and still appearing to be taking short-cuts. Time will tell, I suppose. They’re hiring right now, so who knows what the future will bring in Southwest DC.

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Takumi, Falls Church

Posted on March 25, 2016 by Don

(Click here for the Dec 17, 2015 Review)

I sat at the bar for lunch a week ago and, in effect, had an omakase:  We told Chef Yu two or three things we wanted, and asked him to supplement with whatever was good that day (but not the really pricey o-toro).  At ten pieces, we’d had enough:  bronzino, medai, hamachi belly, another hamachi of some sort, char, three types of salmon, walu, aji; approximately $37 or so — not cheap for lunch, but in NYC it would’ve been twice that.

I sat at the bar of Takumi Sushi Bistro the other evening, and began my evening with an Echigo Premium Red Ale ($8 for 11 ounces) from Niigata, Japan. I *love* this beer, and generally order it whenever I see it – as you know, I prefer a malt profile to a hoppy one, and Echigo Premium Red Ale is right up my alley – if only it wasn’t so expensive. Does anyone know where to find this at retail?

The beer went delightfully with the Sushi Fresh Cuts of the Day ($40), which included 10 pieces of superior nigiri, and 1 maki roll. In this case, there were 2 pieces each of madai, hamachi suna-zuri, shima-aji, sake harasu (brushed), and o-toro, one raw, the second lightly seared with a handheld torch. The maki was the exact roll you see here on the top-left (I’m writing this post entirely from memory, and don’t remember the exact prep, but it was a worthy follower to the nigiri).

I eat sushi more slowly than I’m supposed to, but nevertheless, this was a quick excursion – expensive, and worth it. Takumi remains the best sushi bar in Northern Virginia, and I don’t even know what’s close.

 

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Drift on 7th, Shaw

Posted on March 23, 2016 by Don

You folks may have noticed that I’ve taken a bit of time off from writing reviews – I have a lot of personal items on my plate (details forthcoming at some point), and writing reviews takes quite a bit out of me. I’ve still been dining out every meal (I mean, I need to eat, and I don’t enjoy cooking and doing dishes), but writing day-in and day-out really takes its toll on me, and I’d rather not write at all than write poorly.

But Sunday evening, I told Ferhat Yalcin, owner of Drift on 7th (NB – you temporarily need to sign in to see DC threads), that I would stop by. I needed to discuss something with him, and he told me that Drift was open until 11 PM, so I didn’t get in there until around 9:30 PM – had I known that the entire Shaw area was going to be a ghost town on Sunday evening, and that I’d be walking into a completely empty restaurant with several of the staff waiting for me to show up, well, suffice it to say that I felt rude and selfish having this happen, but I just had no idea – Ferhat wanted to show me the hospitality and cordiality that he is justifiably recognized for, even if it meant having some of his staff work late on an empty Sunday night just for my behalf. I should go ahead and issue a disclaimer here: Although I have never socialized with Ferhat, or spent any time with him outside of a restaurant situation, I have still gotten to know him fairly well – primarily from Corduroy – and consider him a personal friend for whom I would bend over backwards. My one requirement for eating at Drift was that I would not accept anything complimentary – this is his livelihood, and I would be a fraud as a critic if I took anything for free. Regardless, you should read this review with our collegiality in mind, and take it with a grain of salt if you wish.

I had gone primarily to talk with Ferhat, but also wanted to try his restaurant for the first time, and I am *so* glad I did. When the great cook Julien Shapiro was heading the kitchen at Eat the Rich, I went out on a limb and proclaimed them the best pure seafood restaurant in the DC area (this is before Fiola Mare had become a juggernaut). However, Julien is gone now, and although I haven’t been to BlackSalt in over a year now (I had previously given them that distinction), I must now say that Drift on 7th is now my choice as “Best Casual Seafood Restaurant in the Washington, DC Area.”

Taking a seat at the kitchen bar (what used to be FishNook), I chatted with Ferhat about things while enjoying a Tavern Ale ($7) from AleWerks Brewing Company in Williamsburg, VA. I asked him what dishes he was most proud of, and he told me he’d appreciate a critic’s opinion on his Bouillabaisse ($18), a deep, rich, pot-heated fish stock with Rockfish, Hake, four beautiful PEI Mussels, Gulf Shrimp, Saffron, and a freshly grilled piece of sourdough to stick in the bottom of the bowl, letting it get saturated with the broth.

“Oh, you’re giving me Roux, too,” I said.

“It’s not Roux; it’s Sriracha Aiöli,” Ferhat replied. Works with me!

This was a fisherman’s stew, but done in a bouillabaisse style, and was absolutely delicious because the fish stock was already deeply saturated with flavor from fish bones, carcasses, etc., and the “fish fish” was added at the last minute so it was cooked just enough to make it warm, while at the same time retaining a sashimi-like quality – the depth of the broth and the freshness of the fish made this dish a bargain at $18, and I commented that I would have happily paid $24.95 for it, and not batted an eye. Take away the Roux and the bread, and you have yourself a large, filling bowl of fish stew that probably had only about 500 calories.

Before the Bouillabaisse, however, I enjoyed an order of Seared Sardines ($14), two *gigantic* sardines – each the size of my hand – with house-made black olive tapenade and that same grilled sourdough bread that I had with my stew (this may not normally be the case – a half-slice clung to the arm of my wool sweater, and was hurled to the ground after parting ways with the thread to which it clung, so Ferhat made me another piece).

Since this was my first visit to Drift on 7th, I wanted to try more of the menu, but it was after 11 PM, the staff had been there all night, and I wanted to let them get home, so I ordered a couple things to go so I could get a better sampling, and had them the next day.

New England Fish Chowder ($7) was ridiculously good, and right now it gets my vote for Best New England Chowder in the Washington, DC Area. I also want to add that I’m a sucker for New England Clam Chowder – I adore it – and that I think of it like … um … pizza: Bad pizza is better than no pizza at all. The whitefish (hake, rockfish) were tightly packed raw, and I was instructed to heat the chowder, and add the fish at the last minute, and I must say, I did a yeoman’s job in fixing this because it was perfect. If you like this type of chowder, get it here. At $7, you’ll be thanking me, I promise. In full disclosure, Ferhat did tell me that he was going to give me a little extra soup, and it was in a plastic container, so I don’t know how this is normally plated – but there was no faking the flavors, or the freshness of the fish.

Lobster Bisque ($7.50) with tomato, saffron, and basil oil in the stock – none of which seemed prominent – was a page right out of Tom Power’s cookbook. Even a small portion was so rich that it was enough for a light lunch without any bread, or any other accompaniment. It wasn’t exactly like you see at Corduroy, but it was clearly influenced by Power, even though Ferhat may say otherwise.

I don’t normally include photographs, but because the restaurant was empty, and because it is so vastly different than Fishnet, I’m going to include pictures of the interior, the sardines, and – thanks to my forgetfulness – the last half of my Bouillabaisse, after I had stirred in the aiöli and eaten nearly all the fish. It comes out with a clear fish stock, and you mix in your own aiöli – what you see here is still wonderful, but also represents the second half of the dish (you’ll see what I mean when you order it, and you *should* order it).

Drift on 7th is a winning restaurant, and the only thing that will prevent it from succeeding is if it doesn’t get the publicity it deserves. I’ve been absent from the critic scene for over six weeks, and this wonderful seafood restaurant – which fits right in with the other restaurants on the block – was enough to inspire me to get back into writing. I can honestly say that if this was anywhere near my neighborhood, I would eat here two, maybe three, times a week – even living where I live, I plan on being a regular customer here.

DriftInteriorDriftSardinesDriftBouillabaisse

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ABC Canteen, Fairfax

Posted on January 13, 2016 by Don

(For the Dec 4, 2015 Review, click here.)

Having had such wonderful tamales on my previous visit to ABC Canteen, I made a return visit for lunch to explore in more depth. At the very top of their menu is the Fish & Chips ($7.95), three large strips of cod, with a sturdy, tempura-like batter having a pale, golden hue that’s optimal for flavor, texture, insulation, and handling – it’s easy to pick these cod strips up and dunk them in the house-made tartar sauce without loss of integrity. They also came with some thin-cut, fairly typical frozen french fries that I thought had one shake of salt too many – I would urge less exuberance with the salt-shaker, and allow the diners to self-adjust as needed. If you like fish & chips, you’ll enjoy this fish and tartar sauce, while being left wishing for more distinctive chips. A Fountain Soft Drink ($1.85) allows for unlimited refills (depending on the time of day, and my current need for caffeine and/or sugar, I auto-adjust the ratio of Diet Coke to regular Coke – almost always, I stick with Diet Coke, but on this day I cheated by adding a couple ounces of high-test for a cheap, temporary fructose buzz.

The Tamales ($2.50) are still chicken or pork, and I got four of them to go – three chicken, and one pork – and I’m not sure why I was surprised to open the container only to be stared down by four unadorned corn husks. I mean, what else was I expecting? The corn husks being the perfect protector, I nibbled my way through this order, making it last over the course of two days. Without any adornment, the tamales might be (might be) a touch dry, so if you get them to go, make sure to get a few containers of sauce to add – I did this, and was glad I did. The tamales remain terrific, and are reason enough to frequent ABC Canteen.

—

On the following day, I got a text message from my young dining companion asking me if I wanted to have lunch. I knew just the place, not far at all from Woodson High School and his home turf: ABC Canteen – straight down Pickett Road, left on Lee Highway, and you’re there. On my first two visits, I had flown over with drones on reconnaissance missions; now, I had the infantry and strong air support backing me, and the two of us carpet-bombed the menu. I started with another Diet Coke ($1.80), because you need to cut corners where they’re expendable, and I certainly don’t need empty calories from soft drinks.

Chicken Wings ($10.50 for 12): Get them. We had a choice of BBQ or Buffalo sauce (Buffalo), and blue cheese or ranch dipping sauce (ranch) – Matt adores chicken wings (he’s 18), and we both really liked these – it hurt for me to show restraint, but I saw how much he was enjoying them, so I let him have the lion’s share. There seemed to be an even mix of wings and drumettes in the order – I suspect if you prefer one over the other, all you’d need to do is ask, but I don’t know this for a fact.

Both of us got a Steak Mojo Sandwich ($7.50), a surprisingly elegant sub, smaller than a foot-long, featuring much higher-quality steak than is the norm (this was actual steak; not Steak-Umms), a light touch of Monterey Jack, Sriracha mayo (faux-Mojo sauce), lettuce, and tomato, all neatly served on a relatively short, flat, toasted sub roll – this was not a sloppy sandwich at all, and wasn’t the type of gooey, saucy steak-and-cheese that leaves you feeling guilty for having downed.

Perhaps the highlight of the meal was a justifiably vaunted, highly touted order of Hush Puppies ($2.50), which were delicious for reasons I wasn’t expecting: the flour inside was pale, and there were no kernels of corn; the batter and the fry-job were both perfect, and the texture, consistency, and halbtrocken palate presence were absolutely appropriate, and these were a perfect accompaniment to our sandwiches.

Note that there are combos on the menu which include soft drinks – at the time of this writing, I have no idea whether or not I ordered them or got the discounts (I just now noticed, and don’t much care, but thought it was worth a mention).

ABC Canteen is strongly maintained in Italic and remains recommended – it’s an independent restaurant worth your time and effort: The food here is good, the restaurant is squeaky clean, and the service is extremely friendly and thoughtful. I again want to stress that this is very, very close to the intersection of I-66 and Nutley Street.

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Rye Bar, Capella Hotel, Georgetown

Posted on January 6, 2016 by Don

On an absolutely *frigid* Monday evening, I drove to Georgetown, only to find K Street blocked off, and I was diverted onto the Whitehurst Freeway, where I was spit out near the Key Bridge. Turning right on M Street, I drove down past Wisconsin Avenue, only to find police cars blocking every side street to the South (someone very important was dining somewhere in South Georgetown Monday night, and I don’t think all this was for me).

I parked on Wisconsin, and scampered down to the Capella Hotel, teeth chattering by the time I got there. Walking into The Rye Bar, I saw the center seat at the five-seat bar empty, so I nabbed it.

The bartender was young, albeit a seasoned restaurant worker, and I got mixed signals from him all evening long. When I asked him to make me a non-alcoholic cocktail of his choice, I sensed an air of resignation (I suspect the average bar tab here is fifty dollars); yet, he made me a terrific drink – essentially the same drink I’d had on the two previous evenings, except this time it was vigorously shaken, and served up in a Margarita glass. Of the three different variations on this exact same cocktail, I liked this one the best – I also noted that it had about five different ingredients in it, so it was not a simple drink, and the pinkish-orange color came not from orange juice (although there was some in there), but a bit of cranberry juice to go along with lemon-infused simple syrup, etc.

The selection of liquors at Rye Bar is fantastic – it’s expensive as sin, but they’re using expensive liquor, and that $22 Manhattan is barrel-aged for two months downstairs before being siphoned off. If you want top-end Ryes, Bourbons, Gins, Tequilas, et al, this is the place to come if you don’t mind paying for it.

Here to get Ruta On The Cheap, I opened the menu and found just a few items of bar food, although I’ve heard that, in the general case (but not always), you can get The Grill Room’s dishes in Rye Bar – I would certainly call first to be safe. Here’s their menu, the last page of which contains the Bar Bites (made in the same kitchen as The Grill Room):

RyeBarMenu-112315

When I saw the menu, there was never any doubt what I’d be ordering: The Grill Room Burger ($22) was a *dead ringer* for the Palena burger of old, and I mean I couldn’t tell the two apart, and there’s also no doubt that this is one of the greatest hamburgers you’ll ever eat. Ordered medium-rare, it came on a house-made sesame bun, with house-made mayonnaise, topped with truffle cheese, and served with house-made pickles. Alert, alert! Frank Ruta is capable of making crispy french fries! Much to my chagrin, the mushy, soft, mashed-potato like fried potatoes on the old Palena Fry Plate are gone, and have been replaced by – yes, crispy! He can do it after all! – shoestring fries cleverly served in faux-newspaper. I actually thought these fries were the weak link on my three consecutive meals here, being just too salty for my taste, and crispy to a fault – and yet, crispy they were. I’m proud of you, Frank – you’ve learned well over the years. 🙂

If you miss Palena’s burger, come to Rye Bar, because here it is – the exact same thing. To think that this sandwich debuted for *nine dollars* at Palena! I can’t say I didn’t take advantage of it, so I have no regrets; just sorrow, but that’s mollified knowing I can still get his cooking here at Capella Hotel.

Along the way, I got another drink – the same – and this time I watched as the bartender walked me through it. I know this isn’t au courant in this decade’s mixology theory, but I *love* tiny ice crystals in my shaken drinks, and I got them in this – just enough to notice for a few seconds before they melted away into nothingness.

I wanted to get a “Movie Night” dessert, but to my surprise, the bartender told me the kitchen had closed (I was surprised because I glanced at my cell phone shortly afterwards, and it was 8:48 PM). Well, it was an empty Monday night, and was about 15 degrees outside with a nasty wind chill, so all is forgiven. Instead, I ordered the Cookies & Confections ($12), and got it to go. This turned out to be about 15-20 of the little mignardises (with a few that I hadn’t yet seen, such as Killer Brittle), and is worth every penny. I actually have a few left for this evening, but Matt is arriving, so the odds of me finishing them are something between zero and nil.

After three visits, I’m still not sure how much non-alcoholic cocktails cost because I was only charged for one drink, and it was only $4. To make sure it was okay, I thanked the bartender, and told him I’d leave it on his tip, and I tipped him well. On my way out, I glanced over my right shoulder, and the hostess was still at the host stand in The Grill Room, probably waiting to say goodnight to the last customers.

Rye Bar’s one huge advantage over The Grill Room is that you can get Palena’s cheeseburger – remember that little trinket, because it’s every bit as good as you’ll remember from days gone by.

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The Grill Room, Capella Hotel, Georgetown

Posted on January 6, 2016 by Don

(For the Jan 4, 2016 Review, click here.)

“Oh, my *God*!”

Earlier in the day, I had told my young dining companion that I wanted to take him to a super-deluxe, special meal to celebrate his first semester in college. He said, “What about Corduroy?” (we’d just been to the bar on Christmas Eve), and I replied, “Something even more fancy – it’s been a long time.”

So he cobbled together whatever he could from his suitcase, and we drove down to Georgetown on an empty Sunday, late afternoon, and pulled up only a block away from the Capella Hotel. As we walked into the lobby, I saw Matt look around, and as we passed The Rye Bar, I heard him say, under his breath, “Oh, my *God*!” – he had never really been into a five-star hotel before, and he felt like he had been thrust into The Twilight Zone. We walked up to the host stand, and were seated at a two-top near the patio, where the heated torches were burning – at this hour, we were the only people in the restaurant.

Our server asked us if we wanted still or sparking (both come in a carafe, and both are gratis), and we told him we’d both like a non-alcoholic cocktail, whatever they felt like making. We both got very similar drinks to the one I’d enjoyed the night before – with ginger and citrus being the primary flavors. The prior evening, mine came in a highball glass on the rocks; this time, they came in a cocktail glass with one of those giant, fancy ice cubes you sometimes see (I love these things, and think they make a definite difference in the quality of the drink – they may sound incredibly pretentious, but they really do work).

I urged Matt to get the Boudin Blanc ($20, see the previous post for details of the dish), which he did at my entreaty, and he loved it. I only got a couple bites, but the dish seemed very similar to what it was the night before – I didn’t get any oyster mushrooms, but Matt said they were in there. He, too, thought the chestnut ravioli were outrageous – these ravioli are so good that a legitimate, evil perv-fantasy would be to take a bath in them, eating your bathwater as you lie there.

I got all sentimental about Palena and ordered the Yukon Gold Potato Gnocchi ($17) with Honshimeji mushrooms, wild rice, sweet potato, and fonduta. I *loved* this gnocchi for several reasons, not the least of which is that there was so much of it. It seemed a bit denser that what I’d use to enjoy at Palena, but not in a clumsy way at all; just a style choice, and with the mushrooms? This was a killer gnocchi that should be on everyone’s bucket list. It was just so elegant, while at the same time being so, so satisfying.

For the mains, Matt ordered the New Zealand Venison Loin and Pipe Dreams Pork Belly Duo ($32) with stewed hominy, Honey Crisp apples, and roasted kale buds. This was a busy dish (in a good way) whose ingredients were like turning the pages of a book you just can’t put down – every bite found something new and interesting to ponder; unfortunately, by the time it got to me, the lion’s share had been consumed, and I got mostly scraps, but enough to see what this was all about – the pork belly was *extremely* fatty, which acted as an offsetting force to the deeply charred, lean, venison, and it was possibly the most complex dish being offered on this evening (from a diner’s point of view) – it was the only one with co-stars, and the somewhat unique ingredients made this a dish you almost need to order twice in order to really appreciate.

I kept it simple and ordered one of the items off the “From Our Grill” section: a Thick Cut Berkshire Hog Chop ($36). All the grilled items are served with oven-roasted potatoes, Fall vegetables, spiced red onions, and with a warm, anchovy, balsamico vinaigrette. As advertised, this was a *thick* cut of pork – I’d say over an inch thick in parts, and what’s interesting is that just from a taste perspective, the saucing bore a strong resemblance to the teriyaki sauce I had the other evening at Hula Girl. This was arguably a more Hawaiian dish than what I’d had in Shirlington last week, and I have no doubt this was intentional.

Oh! The bread plate! This time it came with focaccia-like slices, but also some sweet cornbread and, most importantly, some of the best biscuits I’d ever eaten. Matt took one bite of his biscuit and made an audible hum; I had my first bite maybe five minutes later and made a similar sound. They were buttery, flaky, cubical, correctly seasoned, and awesome. So much so that we asked for an extra order to help us through our main course. However, entirely due to the biscuits, I ended up with some pork to take home (with which they generously added two *more* biscuits). Somewhere in the middle of all the fun, I had a second non-alcoholic cocktail - perhaps because I was recognized as having been there the night before, and perhaps because I was fine-dining with a teenager, our beverages were not on the bill.

We were stuffed, but dessert was mandatory – not just one to split like we usually do, but one each: We were *dining* this evening, and we could not have ordered two more diametrically opposite desserts, both equally great.

Daily Dose of Vitamin C ($12) was something of a cold citrus soup (or, at least it turned into one). Made with Meyer lemon sorbet, candied kumquats, yogurt snow, black pepper meringues, and champagne sabayon, it gave off the illusion of being a bowlful of health. Not decadent at all, but wonderfully refreshing after the hog chop, my only regret is that it was physically impossible to get every last drop of this without a finger swipe, and that can’t be done here (although I did pick up the venison and gnaw on the bone).

The Chocolate Dessert ($12) is a composed plate (they’re actually all composed plates) with a rarely (if ever) seen Manjari torte, cashew blondie, passion fruit caramel (isn’t this sounding good?), caramelized white chocolate crema, and coffee ice cream. It doesn’t really sound all that chocolatey, but it was, and other than the temperature (it seems like most desserts here are small, collections of items served at room temperature or slightly below), was vastly different than the citrusy bowl of delight which sat across the table from it.

I wanted to surprise Matt with the mignardises, and they were slightly different on this evening Рwe both bit into our p̢te de fruit, on this evening shaped to look like a giant nonpareil (remember those things you used to buy at a movie theater?), and immediately looked at each other and started smiling, the Pop Rocks exploding inside of our heads as we just shook our heads in awe.

This visit was a mere formality – The Grill Room is raised to Bold. Once again, I stress that this is a Michelin one-star dining experience, and can safely say that The Grill Room is one of the very greatest restaurants in the Washington, DC area.

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The Grill Room, Capella Hotel, Georgetown

Posted on January 4, 2016 by Don

Chestnuts and Oyster Mushrooms

DonRocks, on 11 Oct 2015 – 2:46 PM, said:

Elli Benchimnol is doing the wine program.

—

Pool Boy, on 11 Oct 2015 – 7:45 PM, said:

Has Keith already departed?

—

DonRocks, on 11 Oct 2015 – 8:50 PM, said:

Maybe not.

Elli and Keith are good friends. I heard from Elli (Terry Theise is coming into town, and she needed his email), and she said, “When are you coming in to see me at The Grill Room?” (I was supposed to go on Friday, but I have to take my visitors to the airport, so Terry abandoned me!) Anyway, I took that to mean that she was there – but that doesn’t mean Keith isn’t, and it doesn’t necessarily mean she is – they could be easily working in tandem. It’s also quite possible Elli is working the bar whereas Keith is in charge of the wine program.

At this point, you all know as much or more than I do!

—

Keith is running the wine program, Elli is running the cocktails program.

I stopped into The Grill Room last night, and in keeping with my New Year’s Resolution which will probably last another day or so, had the bartender make me a Non-Alcoholic Cocktail ($8) with ginger and citrus – I was asked if I wanted it neat or on the rocks, and said “however they want to make it” (rocks) – it was really good, and I ordered a second one.

A bread basket arrived with what might (or might not) be Panorama bread, sliced, with good, creamy, salted butter – just right, and with a crunchy crust and mie that did its job in swiping up every drop of sauce in the dishes.

Robert Wiedmaier may want to come here and try the Boudin Blanc ($20), exceptionally wicked because it came with chestnut ravioli, (locally foraged) oyster mushrooms, and celery. It was a phenomenal, treble-spiced Boudin Blanc, but made even greater and balanced by the bass tones of the ravioli, which were not only stuffed with chestnuts, but also had chestnut flour – they were dark brown in color – and the oyster mushrooms were just out of this world. This is the type of dish that you wish you could have about ten of during your Christmas engorgement; as it was, it was amply sized but oh my *goodness* what a tease. Why did it have to end?

Because there was more coming. The Florida Red Snapper ($36) was slow-cooked with bay and cardamom, also with locally foraged oyster mushrooms (getting these in your back yard, Frank?), chrysanthemum leaves, and pickled ginger. Served in a fairly deep bowl (as all Grill Room’s dishes seem to be – Frank is a “brodo guy,” and a self-proclaimed “bread-swabber” – the sauces here are by no means excessive, but there’s generally a couple swipes-worth left at the end of the dish, and it’s a crime against humanity to let it go to waste). A lot of people might see this dish as expensive for the quantity you get – it’s a medium-large piece of fish, but by no means a feast – but the quality was so high that it justifies the price, especially when combined with everything else in the package: the atmosphere, the service, etc. The fish was delicious, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t order it for the oyster mushrooms in order to make a themed meal. I also feel like I now know – really, know – what Florida Red Snapper is supposed to be like, both in taste and texture.

I’d had a couple slices of the bread, a few bites with butter, a few bites with sauce, so I was pleasantly full at this point, but you can’t come here and not order one of Aggie Chin’s desserts (refer to the “crime against humanity” thing up above) – we *must* support such a high level of talent, and so I did when I ordered the “Mont Blanc” ($12 (all desserts are $12)), which I assume is named as such because it’s “part-French, part-Swiss, part-Italian” (the tunnel underneath Mont Blanc leads from Italy to France, but it’s only about 20 km away from Switzerland, and the dessert in its classic form (here, the <<aux marrons>> version) also resembles the snow-capped mountain itself – the highest mountain in the Alps). This is a small, arranged plate of chestnut parfait, chestnut chocolate cream (are you starting to pick up on the title of this post?), milk chocolate ice cream (Switzerland), and chestnut hazelnut cake. Although this dish has been modernized visually, it still clings to its classic roots, right down to the “spaghetti strands” of puréed chestnut on top.

And we can’t forget the mignardises that came at the end: a chocolate lollipop, a pear financier, blood orange mimosa pâte de fruit, a grapefruit-champagne macaron, and the legendary caramel.

Uncertain of the specific criteria the Michelin inspectors in France must check off (they absolutely have a laundry list), I can only guess, but I can safely say that in terms of atmosphere, service, wines, and food, The Grill Room easily merits a Michelin star.

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