DonRocks

I strongly disagree with the star system, although I do understand the temptation for a critic to use it. I have always said that points, stars (or whatever) are a shortcut used by lazy and/or busy writers for lazy and/or busy readers. They are an attempt to quantify the unquantifiable, and they render the text far less rich and meaningful, allowing both the writer and reader to take shortcuts when none should be taken. Unfortunately, it also tends to assign too much power to a single critic, giving him or her the power to "annoint" a restaurant rather than simply review it. Rest assured, the stars Tom is now assigning will be talked about in isolation, long after their corresponding text is forgotten, and restaurants will be trying to figure out what they need to do in order to angle for that extra star next year. That is not good. In no way am I trying to single out Tom here, as he's merely the 517,641st critic in a long line to use some sort of rating scale. I like Tom's work very much, and consider him to be an outstanding restaurant critic, but I do wish he hadn't taken this small step over into the Dark Side, because there will be no turning back. There's nothing worse than someone pointing out a problem without offering a solution, so here's an example of my best effort at reviewing something (Champagnes) without assigning a rating. Cheers, Rocks. P.S. These notes are now several years old, so don't use them for anything other than an example of Reviews Without Ratings. ------- I have recently been working my way through some RM (Récoltant-Manipulant) Blancs de Blancs, and here is my report, listed in ascending order of preference (not necessarily ultimate quality). None of these wines were tasted on the same day, so the preferences should be taken with that separated perspective in mind. However, several glasses of each wine were drunk over the course of at least an hour, so each was given a chance to aerate and develop in the open bottle. The factual information has been culled from Richard Juhlin and added for perspective. Michel Turgy Blanc de Blancs "Cuvée de l'An 2000" Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - I had a wonderful naiveté coming into this bottle, as I had no idea whether this was Y2K fluff or something a bit more serious: it was the former, alas. A gaudy silver and blue label that you hate to like, but do anyway. This was a squeaky clean Champagne with nothing to offend the midnight toaster - especially if that person had been eating and drinking the entire evening. The defining characteristic of this wine was its sweet finish clearly intended for the sotted reveler. Without doubt, the liqueur d'expédition (final dosage) was added liberally. Turgy had to do something with his off-vintage grapes; now we know where they might have ended up. To the non-critical drinker, this wine is more neutral and perhaps less offensive than several of the wines immediately following, but I respected them more because they made some attempt to show some character. This tasted like it could have come from outside Champagne. 1989 François Billion Mesnil Grand Cru "Cépage Chardonnay" Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - Robert Billion has been associated with Salon in the past, and still sells them grapes. This is a fattish, overripe wine with a fattish, overripe nose. If you can hold your breath while drinking and overlook its tropical components, there are things in here to enjoy, terroir not being one of them. However, there is a nicely salty depth on the finish, and the flaws in this wine lie primarily in its bouquet - for now. Poured right out of the bottle, it's significantly better than if it's allowed to breathe for five minutes in the glass. I almost feel guilty for not giving this producer a fair shake: the NV Cuvée (reviewed below) was purchased from a dubious retailer, and this wine is from a dubious vintage, so even though I didn't particularly love either wine, I will not yet write off François Billion. Not expensive for a vintage wine; too expensive for what's in the bottle. François Billion Grand Cru Cuvée de Réserve "Cépage Chardonnay" Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - Billion is a leading advocate of oak barrels within Le Mesnil sur-Oger, and that perhaps showed a trifle in this wine. The wine had aromas of smoked nut, and a pleasant if uneven mouth presence - the forepalate was the most impressive segment. The finish tapered off a bit earlier than I would have liked, and the overall impression was one of uneasiness rather than continuity. Despite these criticisms, it is not a bad wine, and I prefer it to the vintage 89 because it isn't trying to be something it shouldn't. It's also probably from younger, less (over)ripe vintages - hence it tastes fresher and with more snap. De Sousa & Fils Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs "Cuvée des Caudalies" Brut (Avize) - This wine is overoaked. De Sousa takes their grapes from select parcels, vinifies them in oak, and makes this special cuvée. The label goes so far as to say Vielles Vignes - Plus de 50 ans, but I prefer their regular cuvée (see below) despite the clearly superior raw material that went into this wine. I feel "tres contrarian" for not liking this more: the wine is seamless, and the finish is very long and deep, but throughout the cycle, there is a nagging impression of oak that refuses to be thwarted. In 5-10 years, this will almost surely be the better of the two cuvées; I wonder how good it would become if it was done in stainless steel. Lancelot-Royer Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs "Cuvée des Chevaliers" Brut (Cramant) - Lancelot-Royer is a small (2,500 cases) producer whose vines in Cramant, Avize and Le Mesnil sur-Oger average 25 years of age. This is their luxury NV cuvée - they also make a regular NV and a vintage champagne. Though it's hinted that this producer uses new oak in certain cuvées, it didn't seem to be a problem here. This is a large-framed, clean, fruit-driven wine that featured prominent acidity and an assertive finish of Charlotte aux poires. It is supposedly a blend of the 89 and 90 vintages. Not a lot of complexity here, but nothing to offend either. There seemed to be a touch of residual sugar left, and this really could have been a well-made (very well-made) sparkling wine from another region. Terroir-wise, it leaves something to be desired, but these fruit descriptors I'm throwing out are relative: this is a good bottle of wine, and one that I would enjoy again despite it not necessarily tasting like a Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs. Pierre Moncuit Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs "Cuvée de Réserve" Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - This was one of the most challenging wines I've had in recent memory, and perhaps the fizziest Champagne I have ever tasted. There is a foam that simply will not go away on the palate, and it conjures up images of little Oscar Mazerath licking fizz powder in "The Tin Drum." I was reduced to pouring droplet-sized sips in the front of my mouth, and holding them there for several seconds before making my move. On top of that, the wine is seeringly acidic. I ended up carafing the second half of the bottle, and had it over the course of two nights. Part two painted a clearer picture: for the time being, the wine is angular and disjoint. A very knowledgable friend of mine described this wine as being "fruitless and mean." In fact, the fruit emerged only on the midpalate the first evening, but then became too sweet and unfocused the second night. Richard Juhlin questions the hygiene in this cellar, repeatedly stressing that he smells "lingonberries" in both the wines and the cuverie. I clearly smell pear in the middle of this wine, but the fruit - which is certainly there in one form or another - is so shrowded by noise that I am unable to make an intelligent guess as to this wine's future. Though I lean towards pessimism here, I know now what they mean by "judgment reserved." Michel Turgy Réserve Sélection Blanc de Blancs Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - At $29.99 retail, this wine is a bargain. Michel Turgy passed away recently, and as a result, there is a temporary moratorium on vintage champagne here. The result? The older, reserve vines go into the NV blend, and that was obvious in this wine. There was a depth of penetration that the Billion simply lacked, and it was very characteristic of older vines. I believe this wine will improve in the bottle, and I suspect if I had it several years from now, it would be down closer towards the bottom of the page. A very fine effort. On a second occasion, the wine seemed very clean and forthright, and perhaps its most admirable quality is that it doesn't struggle to become a heavyweight when its frame is more suited to be medium-sized. There was the faintest hint of pineapple in the nose, but the endearing quality of this wine is its innocence. Based on the second tasting, my opinion dropped a bit. -----> This is the dividing line between what I would, and would not, buy again. <------ De Sousa & Fils Grand Cru Réserve Blanc de Blancs Brut (Avize) - This firm was founded in 1986, and owns vines in Avize, Cramant and Oger that average thirty years of age. The nose of this wine captured me, and I thought it showed slightly greater depth than the Turgy - which I don't think is entirely Grand Cru. There could have been better complexity on the finish to accompany this full-bodied wine, but I get the feeling this producer may be underrated based on this one bottle. Jacques Sélosse Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs Brut (Avize) - Jacques Sélosse is a fairly small grower (4000 cases) imported in the United States by Robert Kacher. Between Kacher's affinity for new oak, and Sélosse's reputation for using it, I approached this wine with skepticism. The strip on the neck proudly claims Vinifié En Tonneaux De Chene. What a pleasant surprise this was, however, as any new oak seemed to be completely integrated on the nose. This is a very hefty wine that emphasizes bold, fresh fruit without being overwrought or cloying. It has clearly seen some age in the cave as it displays beautiful aromas of roasted nuts to accompany its long finish. Anselme Sélosse has 35 Chardonnay locations, each vinified separately in barrels bought from Domaine Leflaive. This grower is apparently controversial because of his use of oak and his aim to produce dramatic wines, but this wine resonated, and did not seem worthy of any undue criticism. Despite its considerable size, it is balanced, and should age quite well. Alain Robert Sélection Blanc de Blancs Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - Alain Robert holds back his wines a long time before releasing them, and the age of this wine is precisely what appealed to me the most. I believe this is his low-end release which consists of 60% Sézanne grapes (a Premier Cru Village), and if so, then it's all from the 1986 vintage. He is apparently a proponent of oak, but there wasn't any to be found in this cuvée. Just as it is at Ampeau, it is delightful to have this wine aged for me at the producer's expense. At $34.99, it seems priced steeply but isn't. Guy Charlemagne Grand Cru Réserve Blanc de Blancs Brut (Le Mesnil sur-Oger) - A step up in quality all around (but expensive for an NV). This wine is made from grapes in Oger and Le Mesnil, but if Le Mesnil is typified by coffee and walnuts, then that is clearly the dominant village here. A powerful, dramatic nose which really did smell primarily like coffee with nuances of smoked nuts. The palate cycle was seamless, and the long, almost salty finish speaks confidently of older vines. This was a large-framed wine that also had nuance and elegance, and was Grand Cru quality all the way. Great non-vintage champagne. Pierre Gimonnet & Fils 1er Cru "Cuvée Oenophile" Blanc de Blancs "Maxi-Brut" (Cuis) - Gimonnet has vineyards in Cramant, Chouilly (old vines) and Cuis, and this wine is mostly Grand Cru. It is a vintage 1990 despite the only evidence resting on the side of the cork (it is branded with the vintage). No dosage was done, but to say it is bone-dry can be taken only in the context of RM Champagne as it is vinous, complex and beautiful. The wine shows baked bread on the nose, and the magnitude of ripe Chardonnay only shares itself after 90 minutes of air. After sufficient aeration, the fruit flies (*). The ride is long, even and deep, and during the first hour, you can only find the pineapple of this vintage if you happen to burp. An interesting aside: Gimonnet also makes a "Cuvée Gastronome" which is deliberately less carbonated so it will go with food. Warning to American buyers: the current import of this is a pure 1993, and this "non-vintage" wine was imported in a previous year. In the low $30's, this is charity. (*) Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.

Tom should do a book signing; I'm sure lots of people would want his photo.

If you're referring to the obelisk that's the Washington Monument, I agree: don't miss it - that's the only one in this town that has had proper upkeep (though I strongly preferred it when it was draped with blue fabric).

Weird. The format of egullet's private-message screen has apparently been changed to look like the screen I get when I write a regular post. Anyway John, no worries: I promised you I'd never mention anything about that infrared coagulation procedure to treat those pesky hemorrhoids, and your secret is still safe with me. Word!

I had my choice of spending my dollars anywhere tonight, and I spent them at Ceiba. James and Christopher behind the bar are welcoming to groups or solo diners, having come from DC Coast, and Ten Penh, respectively. The 97 Pesquera Ribera del Duero Reserva is a good deal despite its $49 pricetag. If you have a group of four people, it's ideal and better than anything on the by-the-glass list. Plus, it went quite well with the foie gras. The Foie Gras sitting atop a corn cake (a blend of whole-kernel corn and cornmeal) was a difficult choice with the red wine, considering it was also served with caramelized red onions in a sugar-cane balsamic reduction. But it worked, and it worked quite well, as the onions and vinegar were a backdrop to the rest of the dish. (Who on earth said Ceiba wasn't fine dining? Not me!) At $15, you might not think to order this as an app, but I think you should. Queso Fundido is a big ol' lava-stone pot served with volcanic, melted Oaxaca cheese, burbling with skirt steak, poblano chili and corn-meal tortillas with which to make fajita-like scarfers. I generally prefer flour tortillas, but not in this case as the strength of the dish needed the grainy corn bouquet. Surely, this is not enough for one person, so a 1/2-bottle of Trimbach Riesling (2001) appeared on the table, accompanied by some more food. The Jamaican "stamp and go" crab fritters are named for what must be "à emporter" in Jamaican: you stamp up to the counter, and get it to go. They're served with a mango/lime crème fraiche for a dipping sauce that is more mango than anything. In Washington DC, any sauce this color generally has curry in it (which is also heavily used in Jamaica, hint hint), but this tended towards a predominance of mango which was a tad too much. These fritters were really good, and I think that, yes, I ordered in the correct sequence: foie gras, queso fundido, crab fritters. The riff-raff in the DC culinary world told me once, in a back-room sort of fashion, that "Chris Clime, the chef at Ceiba, is a big, bad guy, and he'll snap you in half like you were a twig." "Is he Wabeck-big?", I asked. "He is to Wabeck, what Wabeck is to you," was the reply. My nuts instantly and without hesitation shriveled to the size of small raisins, and I responded in a muted voice ... "oh."

Buck's is an interesting, pleasant space that should do quite well in this location. The atmosphere is welcoming and warm, and the bar is a comfortable place to spend an evening. There's a canoe up in the rafters, if that hints at the motif, and there are no bottles on the wall behind the bar which makes it feel more homey, less like a business. The staff seemed competent and cool. James, one of the co-owners, is quite intelligent, a fine conversationalist, and apparently business-savvy (so why did he approve the name!?), Jamie behind the bar is low-key while at the same time being friendly, attentive and welcoming, and Carole Greenwood herself, about whom many vignettes fly, came across at utterly affable and charming to me. The receptionist was also quite cordial. The wine list is a brainchild of James, who is quite the oenophile, and it's esoteric, affordable, and a wine geek's dream considering it's relatively small size. There's no way a restaurant is going to feature wines such as this unless someone really knows what they're doing. But ultimately, I wonder if the list is more thoughtful than it is good (do I really want a Greek rosé as the only one on the list?) Still, it gets a solid B+ given its price-point, and given the knowledge of James, should quickly get even better. The mussels in a rosemary broth are truly great, as good as mussels get, and I think I went through about two baskets of bread (very good bread) sopping up the broth. I can't imagine liking mussels much more than this. Obligatoire. It's a mistake to go and not get these. Grilled quail with venison sausage needs to be rethought. The quail didn't sing, and it was served with a pear chutney which was overwhelming, the whole thing being in a teriyaki-like sauce. The two pieces of venison sausage in the dish were terrific, but lost in the saucing. By the way, the menu reads "Grilled quail and venison sausage," and I was expecting grilled sausage made of quail-and-venison. The steak is a price anomaly at $29.50 (I don't think any other entrée goes higher than the mid-teens). And it's worth it, too, dry-aged and prime. Meat-wise, it's as good as it gets. As good as Charlie Palmer. Where does she get this stuff? This was a remarkable steak. It comes with excellent sweet-potato fries that you might think are in need of sea-salt, but one bite of the steak will change your mind: the coating/saucing is seeringly salty, and unfortunately I think it detracts from the otherwise mind-bendingly good steak. Let me repeat: this is a world-class steak, but given the aggressive seasoning, the sweet-potato fries are rendered as impotent as taro chips. A bit of tweaking with the peripherals, and you have the best steak dish in the city. Jamie admirably kept his composure when I ordered the chocolate icebox cake ... and asked for a glass of milk. I haven't ordered a glass of milk in twenty years, but it just seemed so right at the moment (they didn't have any). What I was hoping for was something cakey, but what came instead was more of a ganache, and I don't think that seems appropriate for this restaurant. It was good, perfectly honest and well-executed, but probably not worth the calories for me. So in my mind, there were dazzling highs (steak, mussels, service, atmosphere, esoteric wine), troublesome lows (quail, sauces) and not much in the middle (the icebox cake). In summary, Buck's is a wonderful and formidable addition to the DC dining scene, and does certain things as well as anyone. I'm happily going back there soon. Cheers, Rocks.

I stopped into Pho Thang Long today (most tragic name for a restaurant since Phucket), in the same strip shopping center as Micro Center, and was pleasantly surprised. It's a standard Pho place, to be sure, but what it did, it seemed to do right: the broth was rich with a long-cooked aspect, the basil was actually washed (not always the case), and there were a couple things on the menu - including a Vietnamese beef stew and a can of Pennywort-Leaf soda (okay, so that's probably Thai) - that made me raise an eyebrow. Has anyone ever noticed that, regardless of ownership, the menus always have the same number corresponding to the same Pho? Number nine, for example, seems like it's always Tai, Chin, regardless of whether you're at Pho 75, Pho Hoa, or wherever. Why is this? It hints at some sort of central, nationwide Pho-menu-printing service, not unlike those pizza boxes with that grinning Italian man that say, "Pizza ... it's the greatest!" I don't want to belabor this for what amounts to a neighborhood Pho house, but this place was worth a stop if you're driving down Lee Highway. It has a family-owned feel to it (though there is apparently a branch in Springfield), and if this posting makes a few people try it rather than hitting the McDonald's across the parking lot, then I will have done my good deed for the day. Cheers, Rocks.

This should be renamed "Hades," and have a sign over the door saying "Abandon all hope ye who enter here."

Yes, sorry. It has been a few years since I've gotten that, and I had forgotten that is indeed soybeans, not bean curd. I also remember now that, like you said, it wasn't all that potent despite the server having warned me about it. One thing's for sure though: I'll never forget the term "natto." Today's trivia tidbit: Makoto means "honesty" in Japanese.

Pier 7 in the Channel Inn hotel at the waterfront. Some friends of mine were going to the Arena Stage and there's nowhere to eat in Southwest, so they decided to eat there. Oh my goodness this was bad food. I got "fresh rockfish." Yeah, well, it may have been fresh when it was caught. It was so overcooked it had taken on a grayish-brown color. It came with frozen vegetables (carrot slices, broccoli, shriveled peas) and a foil-wrapped baked potato that had been sitting out so long it was mushy and cold. The person across from me ordered "a glass of chardonnay" and the waiter came over with one of those little mini-screwtop bottles and poured it and then left. And this place was huge and PACKED with people. Who ARE these people and what are they doing there?! I read that Phillips Flagship seats 1200 people (1500 if you include outside seating). Pier 7 isn't that big, but I wonder if it's the second-largest restaurant in Washington. I can imagine a rat-infested greasy ethnic place being worse than this, but not much else.

Sort of like Makoto, anyone who doesn't like Le Lavandou is looking at life too critically, or expecting something that should not have expectations raised so highly. It's good. I've been there three times, and have enjoyed it. It won't bring you to climax, but how many places will?

I have been to Makoto a dozen times-or-so over the years, and shaped by the crusty shell that has gathered around it, my opinion has become less critical, more accepting - think of the elegant decay that defines Venice which has literally been sinking for centuries. I still want to judge Makoto neck-to-neck with the finest restaurants, but that is simply not fair. The chef's menu, as always, has 1-2 compelling courses, a thing-or-two that shouldn't have been included, and the rest falling within the genre of interesting but not-quite-there. But yo, homeys, it's $45 for about ten courses! And if you order the tenderloin (and I urge you to despite your natural inclination to get the fish as the main course), you'll have a decadent, satisfying four-gulp portion of steak that is easily worth $10 by itself. Their small fatty pork dish is as good as anyones in Washington. The cold, unfiltered sake, though expensive at about $12 for a small carafe, is one of the city's great unknown treasures. The persimmon with a tofu paste is beautifully presented, but ultimately bland: but it's persimmon! - where else in the city will you get that as a savory course? You get a good scallop, a good shrimp, a couple mushrooms, all thrown into a miniature teppanyaki thing and overcooked right before your eyes. The small inital courses are always more interesting than the inevitable grilled-protein/soba/shaved-grape-ice which is the triad finishing the meal. Their sushi/sashimi has, in the past, been as-good-or-better than anyones in Washington, although my recent visit was perhaps the result of El-Nino: the fish was okay, but not world-class like it has been before. It needs to be repeated that the 10-course chef's menu is $45. Where does Makoto fall short? It dicks you on the incidentals, and I don't mean maybe. The supplements to the Tsukuri (raw fish) course are a rip-off. Avoid them and get what comes with the tasting menu (trust me on this). Thirsty? Ask for some water and you'll be told that they only serve "bottled water," but what they plop down in front of you is this El Cheapo soft-plastic half-liter Pennsylvania-Turnpike "spring water" that is so insulting that you'd prefer to have DC tap water in its stead. Your incidentals will easily and quickly double the course of your meal if you're not careful. The cold, unfiltered sake is worth the price, but other than that, try to avoid the bottled water, steer clear of the fish supplements, and don't order anything extra. Several years ago, I'd feel like a cheapskate advising you to do this, but things are different now: restaurants are not turning over two seatings each night on every table. You won't be hurting them at all if you go in and stick to the basic chef's menu with a beer and some tea, at least not during the week. This is my summary: Get the tasting menu. Order the tenderloin (not the salmon, or orange roughy, etc.) as the main course. Don't stress about the sobas, which other than the fermented bean curd, are virtually interchangeable though you'll never go wrong with the mushrooms or the yams. Do not order any extra sushi or sashimi. The last time I did this I paid dearly for extra fatty tuna, fatty yellowtail, spanish mackeral, uni, and egg, and quite frankly the only thing worth getting out of the bunch was the egg (yet the single greatest piece of sashimi I've ever tried was the fatty yellowtail on a previous visit.) Stay away from the bottled water. Be careful on your ever-increasing cold-unfiltered sake tab, which can quickly rise because it's so good. If you do this, you'll walk out of Makoto thinking to yourself, gee, how did they pull that off at that price? The answer: the chef's menu should be priced a bit higher than it is. Go see for yourselves, as this remains one of the great fine-dining options in Washington if approached with caution. "Fine-dining" is relative, but this place at least goes through the motions and makes an attempt, even if it sometimes falls short. Cheers, Rocks

Does anyone think that little jet-stream spray-shoot glass-washing thing right under the beer taps is mildly disgusting?

Does anyone besides me think Four Sisters is waaaay overrated? I'm not even sure it's better than the place right next door to it. The Queen Bee of this decade?

Pho 75 on Wilson Blvd just west of Rosslyn for Pho. For a fuller meal, Steve Klc might recommend Minh's, also on Wilson Blvd but further west towards Courthouse. If you go to Minh's, get the head-on shrimp appetizer with sweet potato - it's a winner.

Misha's is really good, but my favorite coffee beans ever are from Kill Devil Hills Roasters in North Carolina. You can buy it over the internet (see link), but you can also buy it locally at Arrowine in Lee Heights Shopping Center in Arlington, Virginia. http://www.frontporchcafeonline.com/coffee.cfm

I've been to The Black Olive twice, and would agree that it's very good, but not great. You walk over and choose your own fish out of the cabinet. The seafood is fresh and sometimes interesting (sea bream, for example), but it's also fairly expensive for a simple preparation. It's an enjoyable dining experience, and I'd go again if I was in the area, but wouldn't make a special trip to do so.

People are going to laugh at this, but a couple of weeks ago I had lunch at the Park-N-Dine in Hancock, Maryland, just off the interstate on the way towards Cumberland. They make this hot turkey sandwich that uses freshly roasted turkeys, and serve it with real mashed potatoes with what appears to be real stock for the gravy. And this sandwich is something like $4.95. It's a must for anyone driving out that way. Okay, it's on Wonder Bread, but the turkey is piled pretty high.

And I'll stand by my assertion that it changed the wine. Anything that can't be proven mathematically can be dismissed as such. Michael Jordan is overrated. Michel Bras is no better than McDonalds. Albert Einstein lacked intuition. The Wine Clip may be junk, but not for the reason you say it is. Cheers, Rocks.

A couple thoughts: I was at the Palena front room on Thursday night, and it would not be a good place to linger with a book - the tables were full and the bar itself isn't necessarily the chill-outest place. Also, Harry's Tap Room (in Clarendon) is NOT to be confused with the tavern area at Sam & Harry's in Tyson's Corner. I've eaten at both, and the food (the bar menu) at the one in Tyson's is horrible. The redeeming virtue there is that you can order off the "real" menu and have a steak brought into the bar. The little Beef Wellington thing at Harry's Tap Room in Clarendon is really good; but the slices of tenderloin on the Tyson's Corner bar menu tasted like something you'd get at "Steak Night" in your college cafeteria. The problem with the linger/book/chill thing is that you want to be around a buzz of people, but don't want to feel guilty for hogging a table when they're trying to turn it over. Café Parisien Express in Lee Heights shopping center in Arlington is good for lingering with a book - you can get a surprisingly adequate meal for $10-12 or so if you order the nightly special, but the fries are frozen and it seems like a lot of customers are older people that just walked their dog.

Hi Vengroff, Nope, never been to Ortanique. Here's a little blurb about the cuisine of Veracruz (including the red snapper dish). Refer to the fourth paragraph: http://www.mexconnect.com/mex_/recipes/pue...ruzcuisine.html

I had a good meal at Ceiba tonight. The freebies are more than worthy. The little wedge-basket-thing of tortillas with some sort of cumin powder, and the accompanying dip with pumpkinseed (?) et al were complex, interesting and very, very good. A sampler of ceviche ($15) is a fine introduction to these original renditions and would be appropriate for a group of 2-3 people; solo diners would be better off choosing the one that sounds best to them on the menu (around $9), or possibly trying the swordfish carpaccio in its stead. Duck empanadas were tasty and well-priced - another perfect group nibbler. And then there was the red snapper Vera Cruz which was a whole fish that was beautifully cooked and presented. The sauce was bland, yes, but so what - how many whole red snappers do you see at $23? At this price, it bordered on being charity as I'd normally expect this dish to push $30 in a place such as this. The wine list is young but varied and strong, with many interesting wines to be found at under $40 if you know how to swim. Ceiba is a slick, polished restaurant with a prime location. The atmosphere is welcoming and the large space is divided up so that it feels surprisingly intimate. Ceiba compares with Zaytinya more than some people might care to admit in that it's big volume, it's an impressive space, it fills a certain price point, and it's "ethnic." People looking for a tasty, satisfying meal rather than fine dining will enjoy Ceiba - it's fun, and it has delicious food. The Dumbing Up Of America? Perhaps, in that it's a big step up from what we could have expected ten years ago (think: Rio Grande, Paolo's, Cactus Cantina) or twenty years ago (AV, Marrakesh). Ceiba also makes me think of how cutting edge Red Sage was within this genre. If I had a group of people looking for a fun, lively place to dine, I would take them to Ceiba without hesitation - it's perfect for this, and I would happily return. Looking for a rave review? You won't find it from me. But I will say that I don't know of any other restaurant in Washington that's any better than this for what it is. I'd like to see others here on Egullet try Ceiba on an uncrowded midweek evening, and post their thoughts and opinions here. An interesting academic exercise would be comparing one of the duck empanadas next to a saltena ordered from El Pike restaurant in Falls Church. Cheers, Rocks.

Like seeing an old friend wig out, you mean. I agree with everything Mark wrote here. For whatever reason, I hadn't been to Cashion's in about five years, and what I noticed most last night was how clean and tight everything was, without being ruined by the hamfisted saucing that is as much of a plague on society as is overuse of sourdough bread. The pork shoulder was beautifully presented in the form of a fajita, and could have actually used some sauce other than the pico de gallo. Also, the cheese course featured an all-American cheese selection, and it was good although it would have been nice to see some more aging and color in the cheeses (there was a little pomegranate seed salad alongside). The nuts in the raisin-nut bread tasted somewhat rancid to me, though I don't know where they source their bread. Along with that chocolate brownie, we also had this blueberry compote stuff poured over ice cream - it sounds a bit simple but was really quite good. The open-kitchen concept is okay, but when we were at the bar there were some less-than-savory aromas wafting in from the fryer. I was strongly impressed with Cashion's last night, and I only wish it wasn't so difficult for me to get to or I'd be back there often. I'm sitting here ticking off the courses in my mind: the oysters (the portion size of this is too small), the sweetbreads, the elegantly reductive fritto misto, and most of all, the earth-shattering tortellini in Tuscan meat sauce. These are all really, really good dishes. Cheers, Rocks

I'll be there. In terms of the restaurant, however, I didn't even know it existed until today. I've waited 42 years for this, and can wait another month until the lines die down. Sincerely, Dr Killjoy

Has anyone ever not seen Todd Gray at Equinox? I was there last week for about the 15th time, and he is always there. It is refreshing and reassuring to see a chef rooted at Home Base, rather than out signing this-or-that cookbook or doing this-or-that appearance. I'm not saying he doesn't do these things, but he sure seems to cast a ubiquitous presence at Equinox. People carp about Todd working the dining room, but at least he's there to work it. Rocks.