DonRocks

I remember the first time I had Pho. I don’t remember when it was, I don’t remember where it was, but I remember very well what happened that day. I was sitting there, sneakily looking around the room trying to observe how the Vietnamese were eating their soup, when suddenly I heard the most disquieting sound I’ve ever heard in a restaurant. Within just a few seconds, a conversation transpired within my twisting vortex, the right side of my brain not wanting to believe what I had heard, the left side having heard it all too clearly, the conversation having come straight from Shakespeare’s King Lear: “No.” “Yes.” “No, I say.” “I say yea.” “No, no, they would not!” “Yes, they have.” “By Jupiter, I swear no!” “By Juno, I swear ay!” “They durst not do't; They would not, could not do't. 'Tis worse than murther To do upon respect such violent outrage.” Then I slowly looked over my shoulder, and saw a gentleman squirting plum sauce out of the little plastic dispenser. Pho 50 was a forgotten child, mainly because it’s just a quarter mile from the Godfather of Pho, Pho 75. But one day I risked all, forsook a sure bet for a gamble, and reaped the rewards of having ventured into the unknown. Pho 50 is right up there with the best of Pho in this area, nestled in a fertile-but-ordinary strip of restaurants - Celebrity Deli, Old Hickory Grill, Punjab Dhaba - in Loehmann’s Plaza in Falls Church. It’s one of the few Pho houses in the area that offers the saw-tooth herb ngo gai, which is stronger and earthier than the cilantro served alongside it. The good but unspectacular chain Pho Hoa is out of business in Eden Center. As an aside, I’ve never had a great bowl of Pho in this huge Vietnamese shopping complex, and I’m wondering if anyone else here has. Perhaps that’s because most restaurants in Eden Center don’t specialize in Pho, and I have yet to find a Vietnamese restaurant offering Pho as an afterthought to do it really well. For example, in Cleveland Park there’s Nam-Viet Pho (“I dare ya to subtract 10”) 79, right in the same strip as Vace, Amernick, Le Lavandou, etc., which offers serviceable but ultimately middling Pho as only one item on their large menu. There’s also Pho Cyclo on the corner of Gallows Road and Route 50 in Merrifield (same shopping center as Grevey’s), which serves merely ordinary Pho along with a full menu of other Vietnamese fare. I do, however, like the 3-wheeled bike in the front of Pho Cyclo, sort of a desperate attempt at motif in the midst of a dreary strip mall. What does an East Timorese taxi driver having just pedaled home from his morning shift have in common with John Holmes? They both wheeled(wield) a becak. Have not found any Pho in this area to surpass Pho 75 in quality or consistency. Having been to the Langley Park, Rosslyn and Falls Church locations many times over the years (but the Rockville location only once or twice), I’ve come to the conclusion that not only is it the best Pho I’ve ever tried, it also tends to be consistent from bowl-to-bowl, from location-to-location. Cheers, Rocks.

Or, as Robert Wiedmaier said one night in a drunken display of disrespect... "what's that place down the street called again? Nectarines?" So Jarad or Jamison, have you been to Marcel's lately? Dredging up trouble, Rocks.

I've sometimes found long-expired products at small, proprietor-owned flower-child places. The reasons seem obvious: low turnover, overworked owner, difficult to manage the inventory properly, limited budget for wasted products.

Had lunch today at reddog. First of all, it will be a shame when they finally get their beverage license approved, because this will take away from people ordering their monster-outstanding fruit-juice drinks such as lemonade with orange, melon with rind, and a melange of fruits. All three were great, and almost certainly more valuable than the upcoming Samuel Adams on tap, but whaddya gonna do? The patio is welcoming and casual to the point of nonchalance. I got the same duck breast salad as Malawry did, with lardons, big ol' grapes, mixed greens, all served up with house-made focaccia. My friends got a couple of sandwiches (p.s. why don't people get hungry in the desert? because of the sandwiches there). One was mozzarella with radicchio on the same focaccia I had in my salad; and the other was chicken with lemon in a yogurt sauce, wrapped in a flaky, puffy bread that was baked. Everyone enjoyed their lunch, not because of the food, which is merely adequate despite good intentions; no, it's the overall impression of the restaurant, the wonderful fruit drinks, the outdoor seating in beautiful spring weather, the potential to serve beer and wine, the friendly servers that are more worried about a genuine smile than they are being efficient (is that not refreshing?). This is why I loved my lunch today at Red Dog Café, and this is why I'll enjoy going back, not to mention the Silver Spring Farmers Co-Op next door: an all-organic store with terrific produce, and seemingly containing 80% of the things I go to Whole Foods for. This merits the attention of every serious food lover in the area looking to shop for groceries and caring about how they buy them. Summary: Red Dog Café will not win accolades for its food, but it will be popular, and I suspect it will be well-reviewed by critics who realize that food isn't everything when it comes to having a great meal. And keep in mind: the food isn't bad at all; furthermore the pizza looked pretty good; not necessarily "fine," but really tasty, enjoyable and good. Allow me to finish by saying one thing non-controversial: Red Dog Café is an obvious asset to its neighborhood, and even though I live far away from it, I'm really happy that it's there. Does that make sense? Cheers, Rocks.

I, too, went to Jay Comfort's fine Bistro 309 and had a relatively great meal, certainly the best meal offered that night in Fredricksburg. I remember the first time I met him at Poste, we pieced together the puzzle and realized we had met each other down in Fredricksburg the year before. I'll miss him at Poste. When you're getting your breakfast at Charlottesville, you will, of course, end up at The Tavern: "Where students, tourists and townspeople meat." (<--- next-morning edit: nice spelling) I'd nix their buckwheat cakes and go for the fluffy stuff, with lotsa bacon and about four eggs, and buy all means DO pay the extra dollar for real maple syrup. I've been a few times, and would happily go again. Cheers, Rocks.

I had a terrible meal at Obelisk. Happy now? I've been to Obelisk 2-3 times in the past few years, and it was nowhere near the glorified heights that it hit in the mid-90s (and yes, I was there many times then). At least three friends whose opinion I trust told me independently of one another within the past few years that they had disappointing experiences as well. One person had spent a good deal of time talking with Peter Pastan about a year ago, and saw me later that day. He told me, unprompted, that he (Pastan) seems like he "just doesn't care any more" and that he's bored. I'd say "get with the times," Joe H, except that I have not been to Obelisk in slightly over a year, and also I have heard reports from people that things have perhaps started to pick up. I'm sorry your Holy Grails are being challenged here - Obelisk used to be one of mine, too. Actually I'm not sorry. Rocks. P.S. I just emailed a friend of mine who knows and likes Pastan. I asked him, "You do agree that Obelisk has gone downhill, right?" His reply to me was "Unless it has righted itself since my last several visits." No, I'm not going to name names, but I witnessed the downward trend myself. The only issue in my eyes is whether or not Obelisk is on the rebound, and I don't know the answer.

The CEO is a vegan which might explain their late arrival to the meat party.

Watergate: Slater Safeway On another note, I heard from a reliable source that the manager of each Whole Foods store gets $100,000 per year to spend however (s)he wishes, be it pocketing the money, giving bonuses to employees, extra advertising, etc. I also heard that the amount of money Whole Foods accepts each year for "bought shelf space" is a grand total of ... zero, and heard (but cannot confirm) that for Giant and Safeway, this is a large source of revenue. If this is true, can they ever be any good?

"There's an Egyptian restaurant in the area!" "Anwar Sadat?" "It's on Lee Highway in Arlington near Spout Run." "Oum Kalsoum?" "It's called Pasha Café." "Tutankhamun?" "No, I think it's the only one in DC." Has anyone tried this place?

I believe the hat has been tipped. Was not me!

Nectar has gotten a lot of attention in this forum, but I want to stress yet again how fine their cheese service is. Five cheeses, served in a logical progression from mild-to-strong, all perfectly ripe (but not overripe), and at the proper temperature. HOOLIGAN was in charge of cheese service at the Michelin three-star Gordon Ramsey in London, and as far as I can tell, Nectar is still the only place in town to get a world-class cheese course. Their suspended crème brulée is now served with Armagnac-soaked prunes - served in two face-to-face earthenware bowls like a bowl of miso soup with a lid on it, the joke's on the diner when they pick up the top bowl and find themselves holding the crème brulée in their hand. I cannot think of another time in recent memory that I walked out of a restaurant because of bad service, but a quick visit to the bar at Gabriel left me sitting there, unattended. There were two people working the bar, and about four patrons there. When I arrived, I asked if they served their regular dining room menu at the bar, and the bartender said "we're really busy, let me go ask the chef," then came back five minutes later with a menu, didn't take a drink order, and then went to the other side of the bar to wash glasses, not to appear again. I took a quick walk through the dining room, saw that they were about half-full, and that there wasn't any food on the tables. Then I walked back into the bar, noticed something on the bar menu served "with Heinz," asked myself what on earth I was doing there, and then left. Cheers, Rocks.

Alberto's P.S. I'm convinced Alberto's serves its slices too hot, and they gain some benefit by being taken outside to chill in the air for 2-3 minutes. Otherwise, the cheese can cling to the roof of your mouth and remove your skin. The problem with viscous things such as cheese is that the thickness raises the boiling point, and it's possible to be above 212 F before actually boiling. One day I was driving down the BW Parkway having just ordered hot-and-sour soup, and foolishly attempting to eat it while driving (I was starving and in a hurry). Well, I lifted the plastic container up by the top part because it was too hot to handle in the middle; unfortunately, the weight of the soup ripped the lid off, and I was left holding just the lid while the bottom half of the container went plummeting downward towards my crotch, where it literally caused a second-degree burn on the inside of my thigh - unlike boiling water, which runs off, thick hot-and-sour soup just sits there and clings - this, while driving at 55 mph. I began unleashing a string of invectives, coming straight from the bowels of Hell, while hunched over my steering wheel. Screaming at the top of my lungs, in one breath, every known cuss word in the English language at least twice, I finally looked over towards my left when I was out of breath and could cuss no longer, and there was another car driving parallel to me, and the poor driver was looking at me like she had just seen something really terrible.

Today it was lunch at Café Atlantico with two ladies from France who barely ever drink, one of them the size of a munchkin, the other one in her early 70s; naturally we started with a round of outstanding mojitos, and after the meal they proclaimed themselves drunk and laughed hysterically while weaving down Pennsylvania Avenue. A lobster quesadilla special was heavyhanded and filled with what seemed like Monterey Jack cheese which overwhelmed the lobster, but this was more than compensated for by a wonderful dish of scallops with crispy rice in a buttery squid-ink sauce. Shrimp with tamarind oil and shaved pineapple was good (if a bit overcooked), but quail done two-ways with stuffed mango-anchovy raviolinis soared off the plate, and was the highlight of the lunch. Manager Manuel Iguina was his usual professional, charismatic self. After many years, I’ve finally gotten comfortable with not loving Pizzeria Paradiso. The crust is simply too thick, dense and dry for its own good, having more in common with the insides of an overcooked soft pretzel than anything else I can think of. And yet it’s precisely this type of crust that works with their interesting bottarga pizza, which features a sunnyside-up fried egg sitting in the middle of it – think of it as an overblown oeuf à la coque with little ripped-off pieces of the crust used as the mouillettes. Also, I’ve found that one of their simple green salads accompanied by an order of their fine bread makes a great light meal for under $10. Cheers, Rocks.

La chèvre entendit derrière elle un bruit de feuilles. Elle se retourna et vit dans l’ombre deux oreilles courtes, toutes droites, avec deux yeux qui reluisaient. C’était le loup. Énorme, immobile, assis sur son train de derrière, il était là regardant la petite chèvre blanche et la dégustant par avance. Comme il savait bien qu’il la mangerait, le loup ne se pressait pas; seulement, quand elle se retourna, il se mit à rire méchammement.. - Ha! ha! ha! la petite chèvre de M. Seguin! et il passa sa grosse langue rouge sur ses babines d’amadou. Blanquette se sentait perdu… Un moment en se rappelant l’histoire de la vielle Renaude, qui s’était battue toute la nuit pour être mangée le matin, elle se dit qu’il vaudrait peut-être mieux se laisser manger tout de suite; puis, s’étant ravisée, elle tomba en garde, la tête basse et la corne en avant, comme une brave chèvre de M. Seguin qu’elle était… Non pas qu’elle êut l’espoir de tuer le loup - les chèvres ne tuent pas le loup – mais seulement pour voir si elle pourrait tenir aussi longtemps que la Renaude… Alors le monstre s’avança, et les petites cornes entrérent en danse. Ah! La brave chevrette, comme elle y allait de bon cœur! Plus de dix fois, je ne mens pas, Gringoire, elle força le loup à reculer pour reprendre haleine. Pendant ces trêves d’une minute, la gourmande cueillait en hâte encore un brin de sa chère herbe; puis elle retournait au combat, la bouche pleine… Cela dura toute la nuit. De temps en temps, la chèvre de M. Seguin regardait les étoiles danser dans le ciel clair, et elle se disait: - Oh! pourvu que je tienne jusqu’à l’aube… L’une après l’autre, les étoiles s’éteignirent. Blanquette redoubla de coups de cornes, le loup de coups de dents… Une lueur pâle parut dans l’horizon… Le chant d’un coq enroué monta d’une métairie. - Enfin! dit la pauvre bête, qui n’attendait plus que le jour pour mourir; et elle s’allongea par terre dans sa belle fourrure blanche toute tachée de sang… Alors le loup se jeta sur la petite chèvre et la mangea. -- Alphonse Daudet, from La Chèvre de Monsieur Seguin Lutter contre le loup.

I'm surprised nobody has said this yet, but DC's biggest strength lies in the diversity of its ethnic cuisines. There's no one single experience that's quintessentially DC (unless you dine in the Senate cafeteria), so I'd pick an ethnic dive and scarf. If you're looking for a good meal, you could take I-95 to the inner loop of I-495, get off on Route 7 West, and have a quick meal at Colvin Run Tavern before continuing on towards 270 and points north (being careful not to hit the American Legion Bridge and 270 corridor during afternoon rush hour). Or perhaps you could get off the inner loop of I-495 at Route 50 East and hit the stunningly beautiful patio at 2941. Built with internet money, the architecture of this restaurant is extraordinary without being tacky. And you'll love the food, too, but you might not want to show up in jeans. P.S. If you do get stuck in traffic, well, there's your quintessential DC experience. When you're infuriated at being stopped on the beltway, you can at least take solace in the fact that you have indeed gone native, and revel in the moment. Cheers, Rocks.

Is this on the RN 202 that parallels the Var? If so, I've been there several times, and this is where I buy my provisions to smuggle back to the states (cheaper than Cap 3000!) No, this was nowhere near the Var; it was outside of Nice, just off the A8 Autoroute, I think it was Sortie#6-- About 6 KM above Nice a little to the Northwest-- A huge store. In Provence, there is an Hyper U on the outskirts of Pertuis that is very big, but not like this Carrefour. No rollerblades, either. No, I meant the Var River, not the Var Department (trivia: the Var is the only department in France not containing the river that bears its name; the river runs just to the west/northwest of Nice). I'm fairly certain this is the same store. Cheers, Rocks.

Wat's wrong with Palena? Obelisk went severely, and I mean severely, downhill within the past few years. A trusted friend has said that it seems to have "turned the corner" recently but I'm very skeptical. You may want to take a contrarian approach and hit 2 Amy's. Cheers, Rocks.

I feel embarrassingly qualified to answer your question: I know cheese much better than I know chocolate. A couple of times in the past, I've bought the broken blocks of Valrhona chocolate in the little clear plastic tub, and have enjoyed them as an occasional grab-and-munch, much like someone would walk by the M&M's jar and sneak an occasional handful. Doubtless, by your standards, this chocolate was damaged, but I really had no clue, and admit to having enjoyed it. But in my defense, I think bad cheese is just plain gross, and bad chocolate is sort of like bad sex. Well, actually, there's the really bad candle-wax chocolate, but that doesn't apply to this discussion. Or does it? Rocks.

Just thought I'd mention that our own Monica has a multi-page article out in Washingtonian (on newsstands now), talking about her favorite Indian restaurants in the DC area. Wishing I had your gulab jamun, Rocks. P.S. It's pronounced Bee-DAY!

Is this on the RN 202 that parallels the Var? If so, I've been there several times, and this is where I buy my provisions to smuggle back to the states (cheaper than Cap 3000!)

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Dudes, I thought the Declaring Cheese In Customs posts and the Auchan Hypermarché posts were worthy of their own threads (though the political comments seemed a bit off-topic), and so they have been moved to the General Food Topics and France forums, respectively. Cheers, Rocks.

Isn't there a Bavarian deli somewhere called Oom-pah? You could fill the void left by Stacks' departure with an electron neutrino.

Dean & DeLuca has had its share of misses over the years with me too, but it's the only game in town as far as I've seen. At Whole Foods, Sutton Place, etc., there's no choice except to buy "safe" cheeses: cheddars, whole disks that are underripe, sturdier items such as blue and parmesan. As a general rule, anything that's soft, smelly and pre-cut isn't worth the gamble. But I've had tremendous success over the years ordering from Formaggio Kitchen in Massachusetts (888-212-3224). They import cheeses from all over Europe while they're still young, and age them in-house. When you order, they air-freight the cheeses in refrigerated styrofoam, and they arrive at your doorstep the next day, properly chilled and in perfect shape. I've found that if I order $50-75 of cheese, the price actually comes out lower than what I'd pay at Dean & Deluca (there's a small shipping fee, but no sales tax). It's always best to call them rather than order from their website because their selection changes all the time. Just call them, and ask to speak with someone who can help you put together an order. Tell them a dollar amount you wish to spend, the types of cheeses you've liked in the past (specifying type, ripeness level, etc.), and five minutes later you're done. The drawback to this? You have to order sufficient quantity to justify the shipping charges, and you have to plan your cheese party at least one day in advance since they won't arrive until the next day, but other than that, it's no harder than ordering from Land's End. I'll also mention Artisanal in New York (877-797-1200). I've never ordered from Artisanal, but knowledgable friends tell me that it's a peer with Formaggio Kitchen, and that these two places rock head-and-shoulders above everything else. They both have websites which you find easily enough through Google, but I emphasize that your best bet is to pick up the telephone. Cheese, Rocks.