Busboy

The cafe at No. 9 Park serves until 11 or so, as I recall. Excellent food. I was in Boston a couple of weeks ago looking for a later meal, and came away with the impression (not for the first time) that Boston closes down pretty early.

Everybody else is way more precise about the sugar thing than I am -- I just preee and strain the fruit and simple syrup (equal parts sugar and water) until it tastes just a little too sweet (or honey or whatever if I'm frisky). But, what I would toss out is the idea that a smidge of something sour or bitter tends to, IMHO, bring out the fruit flavor. So, with strawberries I'll put in a dribble or two of balsamic vinegar, and I hit mangoes with a squeeze of lime. Citrus fruits get a touch of herb: grapefruit and thyme, for example. Just a thought. Happy summer -- glorious, ain't it?.

I think Makeda may be my new favorite restaurant and I have a little more to say about it in this topic. And Rob and his band of wild New Mexicans were a blast to hang out with. And cheap! Just about the best Monday night in forever,

I've been eating Ethiopian almost as long as anyone in America, I'll wager, and my wife has been going at it even longer -- she was a regular at the Blue Nile, if anyone else remembers DCs first Ethiopian restaurant ever. I am no expert, but I can say this: the last few years have seen a tremendous elevation in the quality of the cooking. The nuance of the spicing, the variety of the preparations and authenticity of the restaurants is way up. And Queen Makeda -- named for Soloman's Queen of Sheba -- is the latest example, I've stumbled across. Is it better than contenders for the "Best of" title like Dukem and Etete? I can't say. Would it have been the best Ethiopian in the city five years ago? I think so. Let me begin by saying that even in foreign countries where I don't speak the language, I rarely encounter a language barrier like I have here, one made even more impenetrable by the size of our group. Despite painstaking -- and painful -- discussions, the raw meat came out cooked, some dishes never appeared and, stuff we thought we'd been told they'd 86'd came out instead. Don't come expecting a seamless dining experience. But really, we didn't care. It was great company, for one. And the service was gracious to the point that they left the restaurant to get us Ethiopian beer when we expressed disappointment with the Heineken. And the food... The Doro Wat -- chicken stewed with beriberi -- was excellent, boasting an almost cinnamon-y base that made it vaguely reminiscent of good mole (though co-conspirator gfron1 was bummed that it wasn't served with the traditional hard-boiled egg. In this case it's clear what comes first). Ethiopian restaurants tend to cook the Kitfo -- spiced, raw ground beef with clarified butter and farmer's cheese -- and so it pays to explain to them that you want it raw, which we did in this case. But, to no avail. This was a bummer in that when the raw stuff finally arrived it was possibly the best I've had, but we were too full to polish it off. Gomen, steamed greens, were fresh and refreshing in contrast to the more agressive stews, and the mild lamb stew (Yebeg Alicha) was, again, spiced with the delicate but elaborate hand. The tripe flavored with liver (sounds like a kid's worst nightmare, doesn't it?) was so good even my wife liked it. And almost everything tasted a little better with either the spicy red and green purees served as a condiment. To finish, the owner/hostess/matriarch waved a pan of freshly roasted coffee beans under our nose. Sadly, not on a Monday night. Next time, though. Comfortable room -- in fact much more organic feeling than some of the better known spots in the neighborhood. Queen Makeda Ethiopian Restaurant 1917 9th St Washington DC 20001 Phone (202) 232-5665

A friend's having an Indian-themed gathering this weekend and I've been asked to bring a side. My heart and stomach are set on aloo tak -- potatoes with a tamarind-yogurt sauce. They seem simple enough, , but I can't find a recipe. Anyone out there have one? Thanks.

Do you happen to remember the name of this place? I get down there from time to time and would love to know. ← I looked on the web for it and I couldn't find a listing that rang a bell. I want to say "Pearl's" or something like that -- seemed like the name of the lady who ran it and who was not young in 1992. Maybe there's a local Arkansan around who recalls?

It was eGullet's own MarketStSE that turned me onto the phrase "sacred cow tipping" and the Washington City Paper's Tim Carmen certainly tried his hand at that this week, with this piece. I'm not sure he hits a bullseye every time -- I'm pretty sure Monis is back in the kitchen overseeing the preparation of that one olive at Komi, for example -- but he's firing at the right targets -- and that these problems are not confined to DC.

Not to dump on the ignorant masses again, but I once found myself in Little Rock, Arkansas, and figured I'd get some ribs. I must have asked everyone in the Holiday Inn where to get the best ribs and, to a man, they pointed me to the Tony Roma's on the tourist-laden Riverwalk (or whatever the heck they called it). Finally found some older guiy working as a doorman, pointed us in the direction of neighborhood where yuppies like myself rarely trod. Great ribs, great atmosphere, and a great smile from the older lady who owned the place when we walked in and ordered. Maybe not the "best" but -- having eaten at Tone Roma's -- superior in every way to what was popularly perceived as "the best."

Washington Post Review. I'm not one of those who second guesses Sietsema's reviews ("it read like a 2-star, but he gave it three; why?) but I think anyone who reads the review will find it generates more enthusiasm than the rating alone would imply. And eating there will generate even more enthusiasm. I won't go into detail as I have no notes, and the menu has been revised since my last visit, but the gazpacho, beans and lamb were all exceptional, and I am eager to to drop back in and see what's on the menu for fall.

Annie's Paramount on 17th between Q and R is legendary, and one of the oldest ongoing restaurants in the city period, though it moved a few doors down from its original location, where JRs now stands. Dupont Italian Kitchen on 17th and R seems largely gay, as well (the rainbow-oriented decor is something of a giveaway), though I can't understand why anyone would eat there, regardless of their orientation, unless it's for the excellent boy-watching from the outdoor cafe. Some friends and I met at the Duplex Diner in Adams Morgan and we weren't sure if it was gay or not until we realized that Anne was one of only two women in the establishment and, oh yeah, the men's room was wallpapered with glossy photos of Madonna.Actually, in the 17th Street and now Logan Circle areas, there are a lot of establishments of undetermined gender preference, because the neighborhood was always mixed and the restaurants -- as opposed to the bars, where sexual preferences are more of an issue -- drew from all demographics. Trios, the old Boss Shepherds, some of the old P Street places (anyone remember Herbs and Bootsie, Winkie and Miss Maude, now replaced in spirit if not in location by Stars Bistro, featuring waiters playing piano and singing show tunes) -- if it drew more locals than outsiders, it was a probably a mixed crowd. Heck, I even brought my four-year-old son into Annie's for Brunch, back when anyone having a 4-year-old in that neighborhood was a little weird, without getting strange looks. When I brought him to JR's -- well, we got the looks then (but that's another story).

If you're keen to get away from the coast into the wonderful Cevennes National Park, in the foothills of the Massifs Central, we had a wonderful dinner and spent a delightful two evenings at La Lozerette, in the hamlet of Cocures, just outside of Florac. Florac is only about two hours from the heat and bustle of Nimes (up past Ales), but it might as well be a million miles away, and if you've any inclination to hike, bike or simply drift through the gorges that rise above the River Tarn, it is well worth the trip. The restaurant at La Lozerette is a Michelin Bib Gourmand -- very good food at a reasonable price, my dinner was 30 euros, I believe - - and it is a "Bib Hotel" and "hotel du charme." Mornings you can see the commis cutting herbs from the garden for the night's meal. We stayed in Uzes for a week, didn't come away with any great finds but if you have any access to cooking equipment, the Wednesday market there, which focuses on local growers and organic produce has the highest ratio of good food to crowd hassles of any market I've been to. They also have a Saturday market, which is more raucous and offers a variety of stuff beyond just the food. Couple of good wine and pastry shops, too, though most of the many bakeries were mediocre. If you're going to the Pont du Gard (just outside of Uzes), by the way, there's a good chance that an early arrival will pay immense dividends. We arrived at about 9AM and felt we had the place almost to ourselves until the buses started rolling in an hour later. I have more details if you've any interest, just PM. Have fun!

As much as I respect your opinion on all things culinary and strive to make my guests happy, I think that -- outside (real) medical conditions and religious restrictions, it is abominably rude to attempt to dictate the menu at a meal to which someone has been gracious enough to invite me. (Miss Manners is with me on this one all the way). And as for my kids trying to to do so on short notice -- they great thing about kids is that they're not "guests" and you can be a little more blunt with them than the other invitees; in this situation, I'd tell my daughter to get bent. As long as we're swimming in the waters of pop psychology, I'd cut the partner a little slack as (s)he's probably trying to get on the kid's good side, a perfectly reasonable ambition. A firm but gentle response would be in order. And, finally, I probably know the dietary habits of anyone I consider a close enough friend to invite to a serious meal in my home. Most of them are pretty omnivorous, but I mentally group the few who are picky for whatever reason with like palates, and plan the meal, from the start, in a way that works for everyone and that the omnivores don't notice has been tailored to the dietetically (or lactose) intolerant.

I'm about 98% with Ken on this one. There are certainly objective levels of quality in any "artistic" endeavor and, if at a certain level it comes down to a question of individual taste, there is almost always a clear distinction between the excellent few and the merely good or the forgettably mediocre. We could argue all day about who was better, Matisse or Picasso, but no reasonable person can deny that they painted at a whole different level than Thomas Kinkade, no matter how many misguided rubes hang his paintings on their walls. Every year, the Washingtonian Magazine has its readers vote for the "Best of" many restaurants and food establishments. The winners get to hang a little framed certificate and the masses beat a path to their door. But the masses are wrong. Objectively.

It was a short trip so I didn't have too much opportunity to munch Maine's favorite crustacean, and the fact that my traveling companion does not do fish meant I felt guilty dragging to fish-type establishments, but we did get to two fine spots. The first, The Lobster Pool Restaurant in Rockport, Mass, was maybe a better "spot" than actual restaurant (though my experience regarding seafood shacks is limited). At any rate, it sits on Folly Cove and one eats, as I am told is proper, at picnic tables outside. Actually, a lot more people were eating inside, perhaps because of those ankle-biting flies and the fact that the "off" the management had helpfully provided was, empty. Nonetheless, those people were fools as it was a gorgeous day and a gorgeous setting -- we spent a good hour-and-a-half afterwards sunning ourselves on the rocks and reading our books. Busboy, Jr. (actually he's a waiter already) at the Lobster Pool. Though served on those New England hot dog rolls that I love so much, I was unimpressed with the main course. The bun could have been better butter-fried and the lobster itself was a little overcooked. As you can see, I pimped it up a bit with my cole slaw, which helped. I'd go back and try again, if only for the view, but these things aren't cheap. What was cheap, though, was the wine. The place is BYOB so you stop and get whatever swill they have at the liquor store up the road in Lanesville. It's not fine wine, but it's easy on the budget. Plus, I'm not the kind of guy (all appearances to the contrary) who must have Mersault to drink from his paper cup on the picnic table. The Lobster Pool also offers an assortment , clams, squid and other fishy things, as well as burgers and dogs. The Lobster Pool Restaurant Rt. 127, North of Gloucester (traveling clockwise); 978-546-7808 I hate carrying a Blackberry most of the time, but I did get an e-mail from my wife alerting me to "the best lobster roll in Maine," and so I did a quick detour off Route 95 towards Portland and headed towards Kennebunkport, Maine. Nothing during my brief visit to that town persuaded that the Bush years have been good for Kennebunkport, it appears overrun with tourists and overpriced kitsch (maybe it was that way before it got famous, but I doubt it). However, The Clam Shack, which stands on the Rt. 9 bridge over the Kennebunk River seems to have withstood the onslaught well. What it lacks in charm -- the view is mostly of traffic and parking lot -- it makes up for in a succulent lobster burger. It may or may not be Maine's finest (though it has the press clippings and the signed photo of Bush 41 backing its claim), but the buttery, lobstery snack I plunked my $17 down for is the best I've ever had. And the burger bun is a little easier to maneuver and overstuff, as well. Beware of seagulls, who have been know to fly off with unattended food. The Clam Shack Route 9 at the Kennebunkport Bridge Kennebunkport, ME 04046 207-967-2560 (Here are Travel & Leisure's Maine favorites.)

I think you shot yourself in the foot here, and that, while not "America's favorite," La Tasca is indeed that chain restaurant you were striving to avoid. Sadly, from Hooters to Legal Seafood, a loathsome percentage of the restaurants in or near Chinatown are soulless chains. On the other hand, if you're in town for a 3-day conference and you're only dragged to one place that sucks, you're beating the odds. I could tell you stories...

And you might slide us a recipe of that excellent cheese torte (?) you brought. I apologize for not mentioning it in the original report; it was excellent and I have carefully preserved the leftovers for my own consumption. There was some Basque wine around, but I don't think we got into it until after the crab cakes were done. Too bad, I bought it thinking that it would go well with some of the bolder efforts. You guys, by the way, are lightweights. I think we have enough wine and beer left over for another party tonight.

Bridget's crab-cake recipe and the recipe for "Spicy Roasted Red Pepper Aioli" is here. I actually took notes while whipping up mine, but they got lost in the clean-up. I knew doing dishes was a bad thing! These should be pretty accurate, though. "French" Crab Cakes 1 lb crab meat. 1 egg 6 tbsp heavy cream loose 1/4 cup chopped fresh coriander 1 tbsp garlic 3 tbsp (or more) shallots 1/4 tsp salt or to taste panko or bread crumbs or smashed Ritz Crackers Reduce cream by half in small saucepan over medium heat, beat the egg and add egg and cream to the crab with everything else save the panko and oil and mix by hand, gently but thoroughly. Form the crab cakes to whatever size and design you find aesthetically appealing. Coat with panko. Pour enough oil into a skillet to reach about half-way up the crab cakes' sides. Heat on high until just smoking. The crab cakes are very fragile at this point and must be handled with care or they will break into bits. Using a spatula, gently set them in the hot oil, turn the oil down to medium. Flip once the bottom gets brown and they are firm enough to handle. Serve with a buerre blanc. If you're feeling sassy, make a lime buerre blanc by using lime juice instead of vinegar. Or throw in a little wasabi. Heck of a sauce, actually, that buerre blanc. Note: if one of the crab cakes collapses like an Italian governing coalition, let the pieces fry until crisp, scoop them out with a slotted spoon and eat them yourself without telling anyone. The are delish. "Salvadoran" Crab Cakes 1 lb crab meat. 1 egg 2 tbsp Crema Centroamericano (check the dairy section of your local bodega) 1 tbsp garlic 1/4 cup finely chopped red onion 1 tbsp ground cumin 1 tbsp ground coriander 1 teaspoon chili powder dash or three hot sauce 1/4 tsp salt or to taste Smashed Ritz crackers oil Mix the cumin and coriander together and roast in a dry saucepan until the kitchen starts to smell really good, and there's just a whiff of visible smoke. Beat the egg. Mix everything but the Ritz Crackers in with the crab, gently but thoroughly. (You may want to hold back a little on the spicing and taste the concoction first, crab being easily overwhelmed). Form the crab cakes to whatever size and design you find aesthetically appealing. Coat with Ritz. Pour enough oil into a skillet to reach about half-way up the crab cakes' sides. Heat on high until just smoking. The crab cakes are very fragile at this point and must be handled with care or they will break into bits. Using a spatula, gently set them in the hot oil, turn the oil down to medium. Flip once the bottom gets brown and they are firm enough to handle. Serve with mango salsa. There are a lot of recipes around, but for going up against a relatively spicy crab cake I like simple stuff: Chopped very ripe mango, finely diced red onion, lime juice, chopped fresh cilantro, a couple of pinches of sugar and a dash of salt, all tossed together with reckless abandon.

I was going to suggest this, but I have been beaten to it, I see. I will add, however, for the pastry impaired, that the freezer section of most grocer stores holds Pepperidge Farm puff pastry in the shape of little cups, which are perfect for this.

As usual, I got too caught up in the cooking and entertaining to take a decent quantity of pictures or accurate notes, but I think this celebration of the Chesapeake Bay's signature savory was a smashing success. By my count we had six variations on the theme, none of which -- surprisingly -- involved even the merest whiff of Old Bay. HJShorter made Thai-style cakes with a piquant peanut sauce and some noodle-y side thingies; Co-host and co-conspirator Bridget Avila (bavila) brought husband Richard, two delightful children and a slew of "classic" cakes topped with a red pepper alioli; C. Sapidus (aka Bruce), Mrs. Sapidus, (aka Carol) and their teenagers brought crabcakes that got eaten before I got to try them, so I don't know what they were, and a stunning salad that involved nuts; and I made "French" crab cakes with a buerre blanc and "Salvadoran" crab cakes with a mango salsa. Mrs. Busboy made a peach crisp and I made some honey-vanilla ice cream for dessert. Various other folks showed up, contributing wit and wine, including Barbara and Craig and an excellent Riesling; my buddy Matt, whom we're trying to get signed up and who contributed a very swell gazpacho; renowned agriculturalist Mark Toigo, his trusty sidekick Vas and Marnie, Mrs. Vas who gave us all the corn and peaches we could eat. As usual with any gathering with which I am associated, things got a little too anarchic to do a serious study of, for example, what beverage best accompanies which crab cake, and I still don't know if Bridget found out "what's so great about crab cakes," but I thought the afternoon answered that question with a fairly persuasive "everything." Matter of fact, with a little respect for the product and light hand on the seasoning, it seems to a pretty perfect little food item. Heathers were baked (?), Bruce's were broiled, Bavila's were sauteed in butter and mine fried in oil,. We had big ones, little ones, spicy ones and mild ones and each was delish in their own way. I think Bruce made a fairly compelling case that even yuppie crab cakes go better with beer, even though I'm more of a wine guy, myself, and thought the Albarino showed quite well. (I thought the pinks, which we had in profusion, didn't go as well, but I drank them anyway). The truest testimony to the quality of the food is the presence or absence of leftovers, of which there weren't many. I'm a little hurt that the only crab cakes left were mine. I'd like to think that that was because they came out last, not because my culinary genius was less than others'. At any rate, I consoled myself by eating the penultimate cake for breakfast in between and English Muffin, washed back with an unpronounceable white wine from the Basque region (OK, kidding about the wine). In fact, after having feasted gluttonously on crab cakes for four hours yesterday, I woke up this morning aching for more. ****** Pretty much everybody deserves thanks for making a great event, though the C. Sapidus's get an extra shout-out for driving in from Frederick and the Avila's deserve and extra, extra shout-out for coming in from Annapolis and making a particularly generous contribution to the Society. And, indeed, while no-one's going to go to culinary school on what we raised, the generous support of all who attended (even Toigo and Vas, who were told that as farmer-rock-stars they didn't have to pay the cover charge) will allow us to send a modest contribution to eGullet World Headquarters, as soon as I track down a finally check from an office-mate who promised to contribute despite missing the event himself. Let's do this again. I'm going to post some recipes below and hope that others who brought food will do the same -- especially Bruce, since I didn't get to taste his.

Ha! But they do have good peaches. I passed over thier corn last week fortunately, and wound up getting this unbelievable Mirai corn from Toigo. It wasn't cheap, but it was wonderful. Did you happen to see if Toigo was still selling corn? I was as Eastern Market yesterday, so am pretty much marketed out for the weekend. ← Not to brag or anything, but if you'd come to the crab cake t, you could have partied with the man himself -- and the inimitable Vas -- and wandered out with a dozen ears or so . As it is, I'm giving it away at my office today (after having made corn relish and set aside sufficient earage for my own personal use).

Funny you should ask. Since it appears that you are going to be spending a little time on 9th Street, you might want to poke your head into Chez Hareg, a French pastry shop run by an Ethiopian woman -- Hareg -- who learned her craft at the Ritz-Carlton hotel here. Very tasty stuff, to this non-expert. 1915 Ninth St., NW Washington, DC 20001 Phone: 202-332-6000 Nearby Metro Stops: Shaw-Howard University U St./African-American Civil War Memorial/Cardozo

Probably the greatest bargain at the Dupont Market is the steamed crabs being sold for a buck a pop by the Crab Guy (Busters?) on the north (Q Street) side of the parking lot. They're small, but still, a buck a pop? That's like 1970s prices. Probably the worst bargain is the damn haricot verts for sale at $6 a half pound by those West Virginians, also on the Q Street side, but on the street. Of course, these are the same folks who shamelessly charge four bucks for an insubstantial bundle of weeds -- excuse me, ramps -- every spring, so I guys they're uses to taking advantage of us city folk. And, of course, I can't keep myself from buying the damn things, they're that beautiful (I've been passing on the ramps, though). Somewhere in West Virginia, a farmer's going to be drinking the good bourbon tonight, and thanking the Good Lord that he learned enough French to spell "haricot."

I like the late-eating thing because it means that you're sitting around a table with your friends and family for a nice long evening (hopefully) rather than split out in different directions or tied to the tube. I find if you start dinner at 6:00, people have a tendency to to eat fast and drift apart. Also, late dining gives you a chance to leave the day behind and, if you're cooking at home, cook a more elaborate meal. For what it's worth, Greeks start dinner at 10PM on weekday nights and don't leave the table for hours. Another reason I love that country.

Just FYI the hotel location you gave in the PM is not nearly in Capitol Hill, regardless of what they decided to name the place. On the plus side, you're kind of in the golden triangle for the neo-bistro trifecta. I'm thinking Brasserie Beck, for a lively bar if you're eating on your own and an appetizer and entree which, while trickling over the $25 mark (before tax and tip) will leave you quite filled -- as an entree and a good half-liter of Belgian beer also will. For your splurge, you might consider Rasika, an uber-hip Indian spot that -- despite its total coolness -- serves up excellent food, as well.

Don't know what your travel schedule is but if you're going to be in town by 2PM Eastern Daylight Time you can always drop by for crab cakes. if you're getting in a little later on Sunday you might try one of the many bistro-type joints that are springing up, including Michel Richard Central, Brasserie Beck (excellent Belgian Beer selection), Cafe du Parc (?) in the Willard Hotel (outside dining -- it's supposed to be nice this Sunday), any of which I'd eat at in a moment. On the Hill -- though likely far from your hotel, there is also Montmartre which is quite as good as their cross-town competitors (and has outdoor seating, as well). Probably should call ahead for any of these, even if only to see if there's a seat at the bar. As for ethnic, our top two ethnics is Salvadoran, which may be too related to your home-state eating to be that interesting, and there's Ethiopian, which is not like New Mexican at all -- save that you can get it spicy. I'm sending you a PM regarding that that. Otherwise, do you have a budget more specific preferences?