Busboy

Give me a ring when you're in town -- The Raven is my local. Couple other neo-dives around giving it a run for its money, as well, within staggering distance. I actually think most of the "beautiful people" bars tend to get slightly "older" crowds because their demographic more or less begins around 25 (after grad school, or when the money gets a little better, or you just stop drinking like a college kid) and goes to married with children, which seems to be close to 40 these days. The kids tend more towards Georgetown and Adams-Morgan, which is why they're so crowded that nobody goes there anymore. And I find the Dupont scene -- 18th Street Lounge, Mantis, Citron -- a little Eurotrashy. Different strokes.

Not bonus; onus. ← What free goodies? WHAT FREE GOODIES? WHERE ARE MY FREE GOODIES? ← Dude, you need to get your name to the local PR types. Hell, even I get invited, on occasion, to free dinners, tastings and the like. These things are full of the local blogger types (and fine people they are, too). Sadly, invites have dropped off of late. Whether I was insufficiently industrious in writing up the gatherings afterwards or PR strategies have changed, I know not. But it was swell while it lasted. Possible that you're not invited because even in Miami there's only a limited number of restaurants eager to advertise: "as recommended by Daily Cocaine!"

We had it at Jaleo (I know, controversial choice, but I am one of the lucky ones who has always been there on an "on" day), so it should be out there. It's a 2001 Rioja. I found it for sale at a New York retailer just by Googling. No luck at the Calvert-Woodley website. I may just check a map for the closest place to me and give them a call. I checked the Bodegas Riojanas website for a distributor and only found one in Spain - how might one track down a local distributor? ← This is going to be a hardship but you'll likely have to go back to Jaleo, order the wine again and scrutinize the back of the bottle to see who the importer is and, crossing your fingers, see if there's a distributer label of some sort, as well. And, if that doesn't work, you'll have to drown your sorrows in another bottle -- or just ask the F&B manager at a slow point in their day. Alternately, you might begin by shooting them an e-mail at downtown@jaleo.com to the attention of the Food and Beverage manager and see if you get a reply (I suspect you will), but that's not nearly as much fun.

That strikes me as a huge leap of faith based on outdated notions of what happens in the publishing business (not that those notions were ever true). Perhaps the person with the contract from Knopf is a better writer, though more likely he's a celebrity using a ghost writer, but when it comes to something like culinary judgment the imprimatur of an institution -- especially a newspaper -- means next to nothing. Who gave the imprimatur? It wasn't an institutional committee of food experts. We've already established that in many cases it's a business decision meant to sell papers, with not a care for the quality of food writing. Empirically, we know that many newspaper critics are complete duds. At least bloggers need to convince food-knowledgeable people of their relevance, otherwise they have no relevance. Professional writers only have to convince editors -- editors who don't necessarily know anything about the subject matter. ← For purposes of the discussion of the publishing business, we're assuming two "literary" authors of (at the moment of the hypothetical) equal anonymity. Regardless of how you wish to interpret it, though, I'll still stand by the original point: a writer in any field who can demonstrably claim to have convinced even a single individual to make a tangible commitment of time/money/effort has cleared a significant hurdle that many have not. It doesn't assure that they're "better", but that's the way to bet. Please explain the difference between a newspaper trying to increase circulation and a blogger going for more hits? For that matter, are you saying that publications don't try to increase circulation by offering (what they believe to be) high-quality content? Also, are you suggesting that food writers in the daily paper don't want to be relevant and reach influentials, as well? And, aren't you ignoring the fact that many/most "self-appointeds" are doing it as a hobby and the free goodies? As I said before, there are likely some fine self-appointed bloggers out there. And, the blogs are a great proving ground for up-and-coming talent. But, on the whole, they're lightweights (often enjoyable and useful), cheerleaders (less so) or self-entitled cranks (fortunately, fewer than in the political blogosphere). (When I start my blog, btw, I intend to be in the last category.)

You might try Calvert-Woodley, and you can even check their website to see if they have it in stock. Another thought is to get hold of Joe Riley over at Ace Beverages. Best bet, though, is probably to track down the importer and see if any local distributors carry it, and work through them. Where did you get the wine in the first place? BTW, you might get some idea if it's available by checking out the wine list at the consensus choice for best Spanish restaurant here, Taberna del Alabardera.

Maybe it's because because of the loathsome wasteland that "the common man" has fashioned of our popular culture, but I have a deep and abiding distrust of the people whose dollars and "taste" have given us Thomas Kincaid, Brittney Spears, TGI Friday's and most prime time television. Whether or not they speak one's language, what they're saying tends to to be -- at best -- suspect. On the larger issue, I stand more with Daniel than his critics. I know Miami Danny has a deep dislike of one of our more prominent food critics, but I'd argue that any of the Three T's who run the regions most influential food pages stands head and shoulders above any of the local bloggers, whose scope is (necessarily -- they have other jobs and limited funds) limited and who tend to be dramatically uncritical in their reviews. The fact is that the decision by a larger institution to cut a check for you based on your writing is a significant "credential" and useful benchmark for separating the cream from the skim. If you meet to people in the bar and know nothing about them other than that one is blogging their novel and the other one has a contract with Knopf, who would suspect the is the better writer: the one who has appointed their self, or the one whose persuaded at least one other person with interest and experience in the field of their abilities? Sure, there are talented bloggers out there, men and women who bring as much to the table -- or almost as much -- as those earning their living in the crit biz. And it would be as absurd to dismiss a "self-appointed" authority merely because they don't punch a clock at a Major Daily as it would be to ascribe God-like powers of perception merely because someone has a byline. The democratization of the internet is a great thing, and we all benefit from having a diversity of opinions to choose from. As The Great Helmsman said, "let a thousand flowers bloom." But, in the long run, the people with a) the commitment to making criticism their life, b) the experience that comes with full-time dedication to a task and c) the talent to attract employers and a large-scale readership, are the way to bet.

The easy answer is to head down to Penn Quarter and drop into just about any place with a liquor license. If your friend likes wine, Proof might be a good place to start, if they want hip Indian food and hip cocktails, Rasika is an excellent bet. Otherwise: Poste, Zola, or Zaytinya would be fine places to start an evening. All the spots are within a bout five minutes by foot of one another.

Hudson Valley has by far the cheapest duck fat I've ever seen -- on a cost per pound basis it's just about the same as buying a duck and rendering it yourself. The shipping cost is a bit of a bitch, though, so you might want to go in with friends or just order a foie gras to go with. Personally, I'd resolved to cook duck more often so I don't have to mail order again, but, of course, confit season is upon us and I'm coming up short again...

When I went to The Lion King, way back when, we ducked into Cafe Un Deux Trois afterwards. It's been a couple of years, so maybe a local can update, but it was good ol' bistro food in a very swell room -- less glitzy and a lot more real (was an old hotel lobby, they told me) than in the internet photo. Who doesn't love steak frites?

I peaked into San Marco the other morning on my way to work and it still seemed to be going strong. I've enjoyed many a decent meal at La Fourchette over the years -- it is the restaurant in which the old Washington Post dining critic formally passed the baton to Tom Sietsema, btw, and I often see Le Patron and La Patronne out front hosing down the sidewalk and tending the flowers as I walk to work -- something that strikes me as impeccably and romatically French. Seems to have lost a step over a long and respectable run, though.

I had a couple of guys over the other day to do estimates on a new boiler and I thought to myself what a great job installation and repair must be. There's a change of scenery every day or two; new challenges all the time; the satisfaction of problem-solving; the dude-ly respect of all those other males who can't do the mechanical work themselves; rather than being stuck in a kitchen 12 hours a day; you're out and about and even if your boss is a jerk he's generally not close enough to you to throw a pan at your head. I mean, if you had no particular ambition beyond a regular paycheck, which job would you chose?

I'd bet it's more BOH types -- the legions slinging hash in diners and chain restaurants -- than waiter types (I peg them for substance abuse problems ). Just seems a tougher way to make a living and more conducive to sullen pondering than waiting tables. In either case, the high turnover and relatively tolerant nature of restaurant work would make it easier for someone with problems that kept them from flourishing in another job to get work. Not saying that the industry is full of depressed, drug-addled loners, but if you are one, it's probably easier to bounce from restaurant gig to restaurant gig than to bounce from paralegal position to paralegal position, so sample starts to skew.

Just for fun, here's a formal menu for 16-20 drawn up by the great Beauvilliers before the Russian service -- Service La Russe (which gave its name to the LaRousse Gastronomique) -- came in vogue. Two soups: Aux petits oingons; consommé with sago Two removes: Roast beef (sic) of Ardennes mutton; Turkey en daube Eight or ten entrées: Cutles a la Soubise; Sliced chicken with cucumbers; Barded [?] veal sweetbreads on a puree of sorrel; Topside of veal en bedeau; Two chickens en lezards; Timbale of lasagne; Fillets of sole a la Orly; Yound wild rabbits and eels en gibelotte; Casserole of veal sweetbreads and tendrons; Fillet of beef en serpentin Two main entremets: Gateau de mille-feuilles; Small carp en bleu Four roast dishes: Quails; Pigeons; Hind quarters of barded [again!] lamb; breaded capon a l'anglaise Two salads Eight or ten entremets: Biscuit de Nioffe Gateau de vermicelle [Dumas: he writes, he cooks!]; Creme aux pistaches renversees; Apricot fritters; Petits pois a la francaise; Lettuce a l'espagnole; Buttered cauliflower; artichokes a l'italienne. Heck of a meal, non?

I'm not going to rag on an 11-year-old (too much) (although dragging him along at the last minute invites other etiquette questions), especially if he was otherwise well-behaved. Being kind of old-school myself, however, I more or less told my own somewhat picky children that I would cut their kidneys out with a butter knife if they pulled that kind of stunt when they were guests at someone else's house. Since they more or less believed me, they reserved their whininess and pickity behavior for ther home table. Of course, this also meant that if, when in their company, I was confronted with one of my far fewer but nonetheless intense dislikes, I had to follow the same rule. Only time I ever ate a cantaloupe.

I've typically planned a bottle a course, with the position of the sparklers and stickies dependent on the menu. Then again, that only works if you've got really serious drinkers or enough diners to consume the entire bottle at each course. I think I'll have to consider a formal progression the next time I do a tasting just to see how it works; I've usually been atypical whenever I've planned meals. ← Re: the wines, I find that unless you have a dedicated wine server and a zillion glasses (neither of which I am fortunate enough to possess) serving eight or nine different wines while juggling the food gets to be a pain. Plus, I'm not as convinced that there is a single "perfect" wine for every different plate, so I don't mind a bit of overlap and none of my guests complain. Since my friends all drink like fish, too much wine is never a problem, however. Check this out for some old school manners, including proper etiquette for you butler to "fill a place" in the event of a last-minute cancellation by gentleman (which would result in the horror of two ladies being seated together.

I've spent a little time asking this question and, while I don't have any of the references around right now, my general takeaway is that a formal can consist of darn near anything you want to, within a few simple rules -- progressing from lighter to heavier and from soup/vegetable to some roasty red meat. You also want to make sure the setting is formal, as well, flowers, candles, fresh silver with every course, a reasonable effort to match wines and keep the new glasses coming. Regarding what's been posted so far I'd cook or eat any combination I think three amuses is a little much and sorbet courses seem a little old-timey (though delightful); serving a fish, chicken and meat course might be a little heavy for modern appetites and I'm surprised that no one threw in either a pasta course or a shellfish course. Oh, yeah -- a lot of places seem to senf our which I guess leaves me with. Hors d'oevres Amuse Shellfish/sea urchin/clams Soup Fish or lobster Roast or Red meat Salad and cheese Fruit dessert Chocolate Dessert Coffee and petite fours I'd probably serve a sparkler, a big-ish white, a nice red and if I was feeling grand, an assortment of dessert wines, including a red and a white.

I haven't been but Las Canteras has been getting some good notices. I likeCasa Oaxaca, as well, but I'd consider it upscale casual rather than fine dining. Just at the bottom of the hill, technically a block or so outside of Adams Morgan Thai Regent puts out a pretty decent spread.

You may be able to catch the end of the truffle season...be a good opportunity to do a little home cooking after taking a field trip to Carpentras.

Not always the case.

A thorough, if technical, explanation.

Unfortunately we never made it to Shrewsbury Street, and the boy -- a WPI freshman -- was anti-Italian because pasta is apparently the only non-disgusting thing in the dining hall. Fortunately, based on the recommendation of "some guy from California" my son guided us to Baba, which is a hip and excellent sushi joint somewhere downtown. I'm not sufficiently sushi-fied to rank sushi on a fine and delicate scale ("I give this futo-maki a 94.6 on a 100-point scale"), but I'm happy to go out on a limb and call the quality of the sushi well above average even in comparison with the big city stuff. I loved the yellowtail roll and the uni -- sea urchin -- was as delightful as anything I've ever put in my mouth. We also got a tasty bit of twice-baked yellowtail jaw, lacquered with a soy glaze, a slightly overcooked bit of beef on a skewer and an oyster shooter from an extensive non-sushi menu. The restaurant also offered six or eight types of cold saki, so we had a little taste test. I forget which one won. Seemed quite reasonably priced, as well, given how rapidly my family can run up a sushi-n-saki tab. The restaurant itself is tiny, maybe eight tables and the bar, and the decor is lovely and calming and hip; as my daughter said, "even the bathroom is cool." The chef won some chosen "best Chef in Worcester" competition and that, along with glowing reviews means that if fills up quick. We got lucky when we arrived at 6 on Sunday evening, but I'll call ahead next time.

Truth be told, I'd take PF Chang's over many of the Chinese restaurants in which I've had the misfortune of dining. It is indeed bland -- and has a curious obsession with sweet peppers; I think they're supposed to make the food "healthy" or "lite" or something -- but it's not downright awful. On the other hand, if you do have a Chinese restaurant with a little soul in your town, your karma and your dinner will be better if you avoid PFC.

It's next weekend's concert (the 4th, 5th, 6th); my brother is, of course, not Beethoven, but the other guy on the program If you have tickets for that concert, I think you will find the piece very interesting! The birthday dinner will be on the 3rd (Wednesday), so no conflicts with the concerts. And, yes, a bit last minute, but I figure mid-week we shouldn't have much of a problem if I make a reservation in the next couple days...(well, here in Chicago we wouldn't have a problem, but I guess I don't know about DC). We've all been too busy to figure something out until now (I write this while on a research trip). Again thanks for any other suggestions. We're all completely clueless about the DC dining scene. ← Well, if the review in the Post wasn't entirely positive, your brother certainly came off better than Beethoven, or at Mahler. Like the reviewer, I hope we'll have a chance to hear from him again. Do post (or PM). So, where did you go? How was it?

Adam Express (and Erecilia's) is probably a ten or twelve minute walk from the Zoo's lower (non-Connecticut Avenue) entrance. Just get on a named street (as opposed to a numbered street) and walk away from the zoo until up find yourself in the midst of the multi-culti grunge that is Mt. Pleasant Street.

(Tired of this yet?) Adam Express, 3211 Mount Pleasant St. NW 202-328-0010 8:30 a.m. to 10 p.m. Monday through Saturday; closed Sunday It’s hardly news that Koreans own a huge percentage of the independent shops, groceries and fast food joints in many cities (though here in DC that they’re beginning to retire and sell off to more recent immigrants). So how come you can’t get good, cheap Korean fast food downtown? Were you to walk out my front door and stroll for half an hour on the kind lovely autumn evenings we’ve been having hereabouts lately you could probably find 20 joints owned and operated by Korean families dishing out the kind of cheap Chinese food that always somehow tastes of the bullet-proof glass behind which it is prepared and sold – along with cigarettes, chicken wings, shrimp baskets and other indigenous junk. Just thinking about the hours I’ve spent in the fluorescent forecourts of these storefront grease factories is enough to make my liver hurt; surely there is no better reason (surely there is no other reason) to visit the 14th Street Yum’s than that drinks before dinner became drinks for dinner became after dinner drinks until the potent aroma of MSG and peanut oil lured you off menacing and deserted streets and you found yourself saying “extra peppers, please,” beneath purgatory lighting and sliding crumpled singles through the slot. Fortunately, there is an alternative. Just get over to Mt. Pleasant Street, pass a couple of the aforementioned Kung Pao palaces and hi yourself over to Adam Express. Adam Express certainly offers Chinese food, which has never crossed my lips. And they have sushi. Blessedly, they specialize in the kind of rolls that feature cooked or vegetable stuffings rather than those that rely on impeccably fresh fish. My teenage kids and their friends find it the height of adolescent sophistication to blow of McD’s in favor of Adams Express sushi and, if you’re in the mood for eel or a California roll, it ain’t bad. But the reason you want to go to Adams Express is because the Korean owners actually cook Korean food. I am no expert on Korean food – DC’s “Koreatown” is, regrettably deep in suburbia and I don’t get out much – but I am confident in asserting that owners Bae Hyolyuk wife Boo Hyang are turning out tasty food in large portions, featuring sharp spicing and substantially less grease that your average fried rice platter or jumbo slice. The bi bim bap is a personal fav, with slow-cooked beef encircled by an assortment of sautéed and pickled vegetable – seaweed, eggplant, mushrooms… -- topped with egg and served with a little chili sauce. I was disappointed that the last version I ate came with that kind of scrambled egg you get with sushi, rather than a fried egg over easy and ready to goosh all over the meat and sides. But it was tasty just the same and next time I’ll order in person rather than over the phone and see what I can negotiate. Bibim bap Also quite swell: the Sea Food Pajun, an egg torta or tortilla (Spanish, not Mexican), encasing shrimp, squid and copious scallions. Drizzled with a smidge of soy: perfect. I was uninspired by the Bulgogi, even after hitting it with a little Vietnamese garlic-chili paste, but it was passable if you’ve a serious meat jones going on. Similarly, the dumpling soup was forgettable as well. What’s memorable – not only to the person who eats it but to everyone he comes in contact with until the their breath gets fixed -- is O-jing-a bokum: broiled squid with onion, garlic, cabbage and copious garlic and peppers that almost smells like rotting fish when you get it but -- like certain cheeses and fermented fish condiments -- tastes nasty good once you shovel it into your mouth. And, of course, everything comes with a decent Kimchee on the side. Clockwise from upper left: Bulgogi, Bi bim bap, dumpling soup, seafood pancake. Mostly a carryout, the space does have a few stools and a window ledge in case you’ve just dropped in after a stroll through the zoo or are on your way to the Raven and to get something in your stomach before the night really kicks off. Reading material ranges from Interior Design to 7th Day Adventist Tracts. Bae and Boo are friendly as can be and are clearly pleased to have turned at least of small slice of the city onto some simple classics of Korean cooking. And it’s a delight to watch them working, doing the kitchen ballet with grace and the kind deep and tangible affection found in couples that have only grown closer in their decades together. Old, not in the way. Try it – you may never eat General Tso's again.