Chivalric Dining

When the parents come to town, my dining options improve greatly. The usual omelets and toast get replaced by Vermillion!

Mom loves Old Town Alexandria, so after much parking ado, we headed into Vermillion, a place which had been recommended to me. The downstairs is specifically a lounge, with dark crimson couches and a lovely bar. I mentally noted to come back when Alexandria institutes its smoking ban.

We were led to the upstairs restaurant and seated at a lovely table at the window. Decor note: perfectly romantic place. The ceiling was black with red drapes hanging from it, walls covered with wine, but the "art" was the coolest part. The walls were rustic brick with gold frames on it - and each of frames was lit with a spotlight so that the light itself was framed. Brilliant!

Anyway, food. Vermillion, as the swanky lounge downstairs suggested, has a stellar bar menu. Mom had a Pomolitan (cosmo with pomegranate juice) and I had an Old Town lemonade (citrus vodka, mint, lemons, soda & sugar). Both drinks were very refreshing without being too sweet. We then shared some latkes & cured salmon, which came with a spoonful of sweet homemade apple butter and some creamy horseradish sauce.

Next came a light spinach salad with some tangy goat cheese & a blood-orange vinaigrette. The goat cheese wasn't crumbled as is normally the case with salads, but instead smeared on the side of the plate. I really enjoyed this difference in presentation - but mainly because it was high quality Pipe Dreams goat cheese, and not some boring chevre that doesn't add much to a salad.

For my entree, I went with the rib rack of pork, which came with cider-braised kale and pear & currant strudel. I don't think I have ever knowingly consumed kale, but there was bacon involved in its cooking, so I had to go for it, and was not disappointed. The strudel came in thin little tubes - think Pirouette cookies - that accompanied the pork. They were very good, but I would have preferred my strudel bigger and softer that the flavors could mingle with the pork a bit more.

As we decided to split a poached pear for dessert, two glasses of port appeared on the table, courtesy of the gentlemen & his wife dining adjacent to us. They had been doing a tasting menu, it seemed, and the chef came out multiple times to talk to them, and even brought them a signed menu at the end. Apparently Mom & I seemed posh enough in our culinary enjoyment and witty repartee to deserve some port at the end of the meal. We talked to the couple for awhile about the DC dining scene and port in general (Mom used to have it frequently when she lived in Chile).

After the generous couple had left, my mom turned to me and said, "That's the first time that's ever happened to me!" and I agreed (excepting skeezy dudes at bars, which don't count). Anyone else ever had a fellow diner treat you to a drink or something else for pure culinary enjoyment?


Technorati Tags: DC, Food, Dining

A dark, sumptuous drink for midwinter

We've never really written about wine before, so I may as well start tonight. This one was a sure winner.

I received this delightful 2003 Diamond Claret from the Food Arts Illy Galleria event last fall and finally opened it last week.

The smooth tannins and delicious blend surprised and delighted me. Deep red cherry and plum flavors on top of anise and ... other spices ... make this Bordeaux-style blend rock.

Trader Joe's has a 2004 Coppola Claret for, if I'm not mistaken, under $15. I'll be trying it out, and if I could find a fireplace, you'd find me drinking next to it.


Technorati Tags: Wine, Bordeaux, Claret, Drink
Special thanks to my old camera for the picture.

Caffeine, however tasty, devistates my fine motor skills.

All right, so it was about 9pm. I had an hour before work, had just eaten some salty delicious Dumpling Man fare, and my stomach wasn't taking it well. My night job, disassembling computers and extracting various bits and pieces, certainly takes a toll on my daytime comfort.

Anyway, in my dumpling-induced haze, I figured a nice cappuccino would set me along a happy path for the evening. Since I was already down on the Lower East Side, I set out looking for a cool crepe place that Meg, Joanie and I found earlier this spring but instead found MUD.

The Arcade Fire was on the radio and a very drunk FOB (friend of the Barrista) was lobbying for a switch to Abbey Road (She's so Fine, in specific.). It felt more like a campus coffee shop than a hip New York one and that fit me just fine. Back to the coffee. A few months ago, I read somewhere that there are a number of things you should look for when you're evaluating well-made espresso and cappuccino. It would be awesome if I could remember where, but my mind is more like a blender than a tabbed file system. But I digress.

When the milk is getting steamed, it should hardly make any noise at all. The writer likened screaming Starbucks steamers to the milk getting noisily killed. Ceramic cups are a must. Crema, the delicate coffee foam on top of an espresso. And, finally, milk art. The ability to make neat designs in the steamed milk and the attention to detail that it imparts is the final touch.

Mud had all of this. I drank it without sugar (unheard of for me).

Unfortunately, since I drink caffeine so infrequently it kicked the crap out of me. I was incredibly jittery for hours. My stomach did feel better though.

[Earlier that day I had an entertaining lunch at the Nice Matin with the current executive editor of The Flat Hat (you knew I had to link that one) and then visited some ex-coworkers.

I felt some serious pressure to get the Five Napkin Burger (complete with sauteed onions, comte cheese, and aioli), while my colleague got the croque madame. While I needed only one napkin to complete the burger, it was nonetheless quite impressive. Not stellar, but far above standard.]


Special thanks to mcmrbt over at flickr for the photo.
Technorati Tags: Food, Coffee, Restaurant, New York

Service with a...shot

I came into Creme Cafe with high expectations. Creme had been recommended to my roommate and she had been wanting to try it out for awhile, so our little group headed on over there last week. Creme is a Southern, soul food-y place in the U Street area, which as Anharchy previously explained, is quite vibrant and hipster-licious.

The five of us - the sixth was running late and joined us a bit later - arrived around 7ish and decided to eat in the "lounge," the area that seemed sort of like a waiting area with tables. The restaurant is very small - probably ten non-lounge tables against one of the walls, parallel to the bar. I really enjoyed our table (three small high-tops pulled together), as we had an excellent people-watching view and were removed from much of the kitchen and bar bustle.

So we get there, and having heard excellent things about their cocktails, we all order some fruity girly drinks. Katie Rod ordered something with Tanqueray, which they were out of. I know it's only Wednesday, but gin seems like something pretty basic to be out of. The waiter recommended another beverage, so she went with that. I had a Yellow Cab - vanilla vodka & pineapple juice. Quite delicious, and not too sweet. We did the requisite drink pass, and were all satisfied with all the different cocktails that were ordered.

Chris was a bit late, so we lingered over our drinks until he arrived - it was probably about 20 minutes until we actually ordered food. Again, they didn't have the ribs that poor Katie Rod wanted. Now Creme is the sort of small, classy place that has a very small menu. The ribs was one of maybe seven potential entrees - and what I'm guessing are a very popular one at that. So she went for the shrimp & grits, another highly recommended dish there.

So we're chatting, ordering another round of drinks....and waiting. We get the usual "your food is coming out soon!" from the waiter...but we keep waiting. After awhile, we're starting to get a little miffed. Plus, it seems like our waiter is avoiding even talking to us. FINALLY, he comes over saying there was some sort of mix-up and that our food was coming out soon. For our trouble, he brought Chris a "shot" of sambuca.

Um, what?

At the time, we were slightly amused by the gesture, but the more I've thought about this I've realized how absolutely odd it was. First of all, does anyone like sambuca? NO. Second, how does giving something to one person at our table make the rest of us any happier? Third, who does that??? Does our being a group of twenty-somethings mean that shots make everything better? And lastly, it was a GIANT shot. Props to Chris for taking it to the face.

About five minutes later, the waiter brings out some bread and (what we think was) hummus. Approximately 1.8 minutes later, our food comes out. A little late with the satiation there, server-man.

...unfortunately, they got Kelly's order wrong and had to send it back. She waited about ten more minutes before her crabcake came out, only with a "last but not least" to show for it. Not even an apology. Excuse me???

Service aside, the food was excellent. I had Mama Laura's chicken, which was tender, juicy, and served with rice and a smattering of vegetables. Some bones to deal with, but nothing too annoying. Everyone else seemed to love their food - Allison got a burger, which she asked for with cheese...which of course it didn't have when it arrived. And condiments did not come around until fifteen minutes after we were served and she was 2/3 of the way through the burger and fries.

Would I go back and give them a second chance? Surprisingly...yes. The food was delicious and different, and something that I would like the try again. Maybe on the weekends they're more prepared, and I've also heard excellent things about their brunch. But Wednesday is officially a Creme-free night from now on.



Technorati Tags: Soul Food, Service, Dining Out

Failed Doughnut Plant Trip Ends at Schiller's

Doughnuts are one of my other obsessions, and I'd been dying to try out the Doughnut Plant for months now. With all the mild spring (?) weather we've been having Marc and I decided it was time to give it a shot.

The Lower East Side still fascinates me. It's so small but takes so long to get to where you want to be. The Doughnut Plant neighborhood reminded me a lot of Brooklyn in its dirtiness (but places like Thor and Teany kept me from forgetting which borough I was in).

During the half-hour walk, one of us wondered whether or not the plant would be sold out of their precious doughy wares by 5 p.m. on a Monday. "A Monday? Who eats doughnuts on a Monday?" Turns out I was right. The Plant is open every day of the week except Monday. We were a bit tired from the walk, so we weren't too upset. We'll be back, Doughnut Plant.

But in the meantime, Marc was beginning to complain of hunger. I'd seen that we passed Schiller's Liquor Bar, so we started back North for some drinks and food. Schiller's is a pretty awesome place - a look in-between a barber shop and an old timey soda fountain place. The prices for food and drinks, standard and specialty, were about average for the hipness.

After bread and olive oil was served, Marc, Derek and I made our orders - a Pimm's Cup with a mozzarella and tomato sandwich on toasted country bread for me, a Raspberry Bramble and a decent burger for Marc, and a frozen margarita with a Cuban sandwich for Derek.

First, the drinks. The Pimm's Cup tasted similar to the Strawberry Fields Meg got at Barmarche, which is to say it was summery in its sweet cucumber-ness. I forget what exactly was in this pimms cup, but I could taste the vegetal notes of the cucumber and mint as well as some sweetness or lemon flavor. Marc's Raspberry Bramble surprised me. I fully expected a overpoweringly sweet/tart girly raspberry drink, but the bramble was subtle and nuanced. It came layered with a combination of gin, chamboard, and something that made the gin cloudy. Oh, and it had the obligatory frozen raspberry. And, finally, Derek's cheap[er] frozen margarita tasted like it was supposed to.

The food was similarly good. Marc's burger wasn't anything terribly special, but my tomato/mozzarella sandwich and Derek's Cuban were quite good. The highlights of mine were the freshness of the ingredients (basil pesto sauce nearly dripped on me a number of times, but that's forgivable) and the lightly toasted country bread - I hate when toast rips the roof of my mouth apart. Marc said his fries tasted homemade, and Derek enjoyed the spicy pickles on his sandwich.

To top it off, a waiter came by and offered us some free doughnuts (they must have been getting ready for dinner). The cinnamon-sugar doughnuts were medium-light in density and temporarily satisfied my doughnut desire.

Technorati Tags: Food, Restaurant, Schiller's, New York City
Special thanks to dgphilli over at Flickr for the photo.