DonRocks

Never, ever admit to anyone that you asked for a fork - this picture is hard evidence. Cheers, Rocks.

That works for you too?! ← Bad decision. Some restaurant writers remain anonymous because they don't want special treatment; I remain anonymous because I don't want spit in my food.

Tonight it was Chef de Cuisine Ethan McKee, who ably filled in for Todd Gray in his absence. As always, Tony Allen was a commanding presence behind the bar. Tony works on Mondays and Wednesdays, and really needs to be considered an eGullet icon if not an eGullet legend - put it this way: I got drunk one night and traded him my car on-the-spot for fitness-training sessions. Think I'm kidding? Go in and ask him for details... The only thing bigger than Tony at Equinox is the Equine Ox. Travis, the dining room manager, is one of the largest people I know, and as big as Tony is - and Tony could pick me up with one hand and throw me through a wall - Travis makes him look like a dwarf. And nobody, but nobody, in all of Washington, is a more gentle, composed and amicable front-of-the-house figure than is Travis. Equinox has a new tasting menu at dinner, at $55-70 for 3-4 courses (salad, pasta, fish and meat). And the rockfish with chestnut purée made me swear up-and-down that it had anchovies in it, despite Chef McKee's insistence to the contrary - he assured me it was the purée coupled with the Virginia ham that lent the illusion of the anchovies, and I'm certain that he's correct. Cheers, Rocks.

Antonio Burrell recently became Chef de Cuisine at Bistro Bis, an establishment run by restauranteurs Jeff and Sallie Buben, having come from a short stint at Gabriel. A check-in this evening showed some terrific work by new Pastry Chef Heather Martindale, who just came from Marcel's. The chocolate bread pudding with crème anglaise, was everything you could possibly want, and how often do you find both the sorbets (passion fruit and mango) AND the ice cream (vanilla) arriving at the correct temperature and showing the proper respect to their ingredients? It's worth stopping in just for a late dessert to sample the great work of Heather Martindale. Cheers, Rocks.

Based on the tone and content of the first question in Tom Sietsema's chat this morning, as well as the "anonymous" early leaking of the Nectar story (and trust me, the story broke several hours before it should have), I smell a rat.

I had dinner in the back room this past Saturday evening, and had attentive service as always. A friend of mine had invited me there to celebrate his son's 18th birthday. His son had ordered one less course than we had (i.e., there was going to be a gap during his meal while we had an extra course), but knowing that it was his birthday, the staff brought him out a complimentary plate to fill the downtime. It was entirely unexpected, and a wonderful gesture on their part. Palena's staff tends to be young, and I believe they lack formal training as a whole, but between Kelli, Evan, Jeff, Carolyn and Roger (the people I've had direct interaction with), my experiences there have always been welcoming and efficient. In the interest of full disclosure, I'm a known entity at Palena and almost certainly receive extra attention, but all I can do is report my own experiences while encouraging others to do the same. Forgetting Palena, I've found that the pacing of an extended meal can often be silently "customized" to diners' individual needs if the diners engage the server a bit in order to give the server a better feel for things, the earlier in the meal the better. I'm certain about one thing: in the vast majority of restaurants, the staff wants you to have a good time and enjoy your meal, and problems often result from the staff's lack of ability to "read" the table. There are very, very few restaurants in town where you can completely turn yourself over to the restaurant and walk away with perfect service - the talent pool here is simply spread too thin and there's a lack of proper training for the noble profession of being a server. Cheers, Rocks.

I really wish this news hadn't broken so quickly. I just spoke with Jarad Slipp and confirmed that Nectar's final service was last Saturday Night. Please remember that this Hole-In-The-Wall Dungeon-Of-A-Space in a Third-Rate Hotel meant nothing per se: the only thing that made Nectar great was its people: Jamison Blankenship, Jarad Slipp and the rest of the staff. With respect, Rocks.

When I woke up this morning, there was a brown recluse next to me. I thought I was still asleep and dreaming, but I was certain of what I heard: “Go to Komi tonight.” I blinked and tried to wake up, but the spider was still there. “Leave me be,” I said in a haze, and rolled back to sleep. This evening there remained only a vague memory, but looking out from the restaurant onto 17th Street, the night outside becoming colder after the earth had spun away, sitting there tucked into a pocket of warmth and depth and heart, I knew that I had been awake this morning, and that I had not been alone.

If we're going to discuss packaged bacon (as opposed to restaurant bacon), don't forget The Grateful Palate. Expensive and worth it.

There is but one choice, and it is Wings Olé.

Just wait until your employer seizes your PMs. You're not out of the woods yet. (eGullet hasn't changed my life so much as it has stolen it from me.)

Brendan Cox, sous chef under Todd Gray at Equinox, has become Executive Chef at Circle Bistro. An affordable introduction to Brendan's work can be found weekdays from 5-7 PM at happy hour, where beer, glasses-of-wine and martinis are half-price, and both the bar and dining-room menus are available. Introduce yourself to Jane, the perky-and-petite short-haired Brit babe, who has tended bar here for eighteen years, and who blew me away by remembering me from this past summer when I sat out on the deck and enjoyed a bottle of Champagne and a cone of popcorn for dinner (hey, you have to cut corners somewhere). Cheers, Rocks. P.S. Apparently George Vetsch is alive and well and working in some Italian restaurant off of Dupont Circle - does anyone know where?

Although, doughnuts = the devil's bellybutton ← I had the doughnuts again at Komi a few weeks ago - if these are the devil's bellybutton, then Satan practices omphaloskepsis.

With 33 locations in 6 states in the works, it's probably not a surprise that you've run across inconsistency in the grilled onions. Formula and repetition has its place (specifically, when you're driving down an interstate at 2 AM and want a consistent product), but ultimately, Five Guys will come to the same fork-in-the-road that every other restaurant comes to during an attempt at massive expansion: sacrifice consistency between locations, or else make the product so banal and wan that it is no longer worth pursuing. In case my position on this isn't clear, let me state it more succinctly: there is no restaurant in the history of the world that has ever attempted large-scale expansion that has retained the soul and character of the original. It cannot be done, and anyone who says that it can is either lying to you, or lying to themselves. Cheers, Rocks.

When my PMS is raging, I find it rewarding to cook my guy a really special meal and have it waiting for him when he gets home from work – there’s something about the warmth of the kitchen, the smell of fresh bread baking, and the satisfaction of knowing that I’m pleasing my man that makes it all bearable, even beautiful. But here’s an even better secret: when my guy is enjoying his dinner in front of the TV while dessert is baking, I make it look like I’m just shuttling up and down the stairs with the laundry basket, but really what I’m doing is trying to stay in shape, so when my period finally does come-and-go (darn that thing!), I’ll look really good in lingerie for him the week after – and he always brings me chocolate when I do that! <Wink! Giggle!>

A reminder to restauranteurs everywhere to please lower the temperature of your red wines before serving them. (I won't name names, but you know who you are, and I know you're reading this)

Don't overlook the well-chosen wine list, chock full of selections from the fine local importer Olivier Daubresse, such as a Domaine Maillard Bourgogne Rouge. And who knows, if you stop in one Halloween, you might even see Monsieur Daubresse drinking at the bar. You might even see Monsieur Maillard himself drinking at the bar. You might see lots of people you know there!

Go here. Just sit there and watch the screen on top for about 2-3 minutes. You'll see what I mean...

I'll be a cheerleader too, especially when there is serious journalism going on such as this. But the "Kebab Hope" pun is offal. Rocks.

So I've heard that the author is fashionable, hip, cool, strikingly handsome. Is his, erm, blood sausage nicknamed The Tony Boudin? Taking the first stagecoach out of town, Rocks.

There is something humbling about drinking wine from a vineyard existing since before 1365. Cheers, Rocks.

I can neither confirm nor deny the following rumor: --- Check out the new Razor magazine (a soft-core men's mag). Someone you know made the What's Next list for 2005 along with heroin-chic actors and hippy-ass musicians. There before the grace of God, stands Wabeck.

[separate thread about Belga Café started here.

I thought this had already happened (Fabio, can you confirm?) Renard's desserts at Le Paradou (and supposedly at Café 15, though I never had them there) were world-class. This guy is a major, major pastry chef.

Here's how I look at this: In casual conversation, anyone who pronounces "Champagne" the French way will be correctly dismissed as a douche (of course if you're talking with a French person, you may as well go for your best Charles Boyer accent). In the same spirit, if you say to your American friends, "I'm going out for a bowl of fur," people won't know what you're talking about, so I just say "fo" and know I'm wrong and not care about it. Pho shizzle, Rocks.