Busboy

I was working what was not yet America's first certified organic (it hadn't been certified at that point) restaurant, Restaurant Nora, in DC when I was introduced to balsamic, the real stuff, in 1986. After that I began to notice it in gourmet markets, but it seems as though it was still a couple of years before the fake balsamic began showing up at the local Safeway.

I'd suggest that buying out-of-season berries bred for their ability to travel by truck, rathert than for their taste, is a bad idea. If you must persist -- and we all cave every now and again -- simply go to the expedient of sniffing at the berries before you buy. If they don't smell delicious (usually the strawberry perfume is better than than the taste with these guys) even through the plastic, don't buy. On a related (kind of) subject, the other day I bought some Golden, not Red, Delicious apples at the farmer's market and they were, well, delicious. Very different from the Grocery store stuff. What a difference choosing the right source makes. Finally, on another related (kind of) topic, isn't amazing how good Jersey produce can be, despite all the crap they get? I had a fried who made a project of teaching me that New Jersey was indeed the Garden State, and not just the land of refineries and The Sopranos.

because the idea would be to teach them the vocabulary and skills that would help them improve -- elevating their abilities -- rather than lowering the level of the recipes.

Well, periodically you get an article about the government dumbing down army field manuals or manufacturers writing assembly direction at a fifth-grade reading-level. Now it's cookbooks. "When the country's top food companies want to create recipes that millions of Americans will be able to understand, there seems to be one guiding principle: They need to be written for a nation of culinary illiterates." Article here. Seems counterproductive, no?

Come now, surely someone can come up with one example of a restaurant where this is not true? If I was touring through, I'd hate to waste the view... ← I am, like, 0-for-5 on restaurants with a Med/harbor view, with 4 merely mediocre and one aggressively bad (and brutally expensive), though the sunset made up for it. On one of these threads mentions a great restaurant with a view in, I believe, Eze, but at this point I think "caveat diner" is a good motto. The view is, indeed, too good to waste -- my wife almost began crying at the sunset we watched quaiside in Villefranche (I didn't cry until I saw the check) -- so I will be delighted to be set right. In the mean time, I'll wager that there are exellent picnic spots to be found and the quaiside cafes are perfect for an apero or three after a hard day of sailing or touring.

Thanks Busboy. Guess I will have to check out Bailleau sur Mer and Les Agaves. Although we don't mind some "Big City" exposure as we'll have our fair share of rusticity in Ille de Lerins and Ile de Porquerolles. Is there a particular reason to avoid QdA? Poor service? Poor value for money? ← Re: QdA I dined there one evening and found the food utterly unremarkable -- and have heard from others that this is par for the course. I just think you can probably do better. In my limited experience the "never trust the food at a restaurant with a view" has been pretty accurate in and around the harbors of the Cote d'Azure.

I'll second Menton on Beaulieu. When I went to the Cote a couple of years back I had several friends' eyes get wide when I told them that I "had" to stay in Beaulieu instead of Monaco -- surprisingly enough, they, too had stumbled across it amidst the more famous towns in the area. They all remembered it as a spectacular little place, and so did I. It's also a nice change from the "Big City" feel of Nice and Monaco. There's a friendly, if not astounding, restaurant right by the railroad station called Les Agaves. And Monaco, if you have reservations at Louis XV, is a 10-15 minute cab ride away (non-rush hour) and 15 minutes by commuter train in rush hour. Quai des Artistes, btw, should be avoided (except for drinks -- lovely harbor view).

You can buy chicken feet in the Latino markets in my neighborhood, but I don't know how their being prepared (I suse them for stocks). And I seem to recall Bleudauvergne making and photographing a French versionfor eGullet.

I once read a piece by a caucaso-American who had moved to Shanghai and was warned by friends to pack all the Cheerios and "American" foodstuffs he could carry. She, of course, laughed them off, "I was adventurous, open-minded, versatile, fearless." Apparently it was the deep-fried scoprpion that pushed her over the edge, but that was far from the only challenge. (unfortunately, you have to pay for the article so I can't link to it.)

Traditional "Soul Food," the cuisine of the African American slaves, would use the castoff pieces like pig ears, trotters, and tripe. ← As do the Greeks and the French. I do see a lot of pigs ears and other less popular parts in shops that have a large African American clientel.

I'd ring Johnney's or Hanks Oyster Bar-- separated from one another by a mere three blocks -- for crabcakes. Not sure if Hank's does lunch, though. The Palm does a decent corporate crab cake and a fine martini, as long as you're on vacation. You can just sit at the bar. And I believe that the Old Ebbitt Grill, across the street from Treasury, puts out a decent cake, as well. Jaleo is great and near the mall; walking distance. I continue to be befuddled by Zatyina's reputation -- fine food but far from extraordinary IMHO.

Brooks, I want you to know that -- if it truly would be cheaper to fly to NO and back with the bread as checked luggage -- I'm sure I can round of several volunteers for the occasional Berlin Airlift operation. As nice as it is to see that we won't be getting inferior po' boys in DC, it's better to see pictures of people in New Orleans able to earn a paycheck at a functioning buisness. I promise to do my part to support the effort in the near future.

I don't like going to "tourist" restaurants becase, almost by definition, the food is lousy (though in both France and Greece, where I've spent time, it is dam easy to walk into a restaurant or cafe and be the only American in earshot, and still get a lousy meal). Beware the place that offers menus in English. I don't like going to restaurants full of tourists, for the purely selfish and egocentric reason that it spoils the illusion of having broken the surly bonds bonds of the U.S. I prefer the local language: every syllable is a message that I am on vacation, far from home, immersed in mystery and delight...no matter if they're actually discussing plumbing fixtures or, having overheard my table, tsk-tsking about U.S. foreign policy. Any other European language is quite tolerable. Accents from the British Isles are acceptable, but not optimal. As for Americans -- if I wanted to hear American spoken, I'd talk to myself, or travel in the U.S. (which I do). Guests at my own table get a by.

Nice threads here, and here. I will, however, second La Merenda. Like Mr. McShane, my wife and I are hoping to hit it the evening we touch down in Nice this summer, this time with the kids. And, it may be apostacy to say so, but there is much to be said for great pizza served in an old piazza with a sea breeze and a starry sky, as you can do about two blocks from Merenda, at La Petit Romarin in Place Rosetti. In fact, if you want to save your euros for a big blowout or two, Nice is famous for its low-priced street food, so (it is said) you can eat cheap there and blow the budget somewhere else.

Before I hit 40, had two kids and married a nice Catholic Girl (not necessarily in that order) I committed many an un-abstentious act during the forty days between Shrove Tuesday and Easter Sunday (ironic but meaningless aside: the French word for Lent, “carême” is the same as the last name of one of France’s greatest chefs, Marie-Antoine Carême, an individual surely not known for the austerity of his cuisine). But, in retrospect, the indulgence most likely to land me in Hell if I talk to St. Peter before I have an opportunity to repent is the dinner I ate at Michel Richard’s Citronelle last week. This was my third visit in recent years and the restaurant -- already spectacular, just seems to keep getting better. A bit of context. Because I live well or because I was kind in a past life or because I just get stupid lucky sometime, I was taken to dinner at four of DC’s best restaurants last week, giving me a chance to compare what Michel – with the able assistance of Sous Chef Cedric Maupillier -- is doing, to the work of some extremely talented chefs in some very good dining rooms. And the context is this: Richard is virtually in a league of his own. The chasm between his four stars and the three – or three-and-a-half -- starholders in town is vast and obvious. He’s just playing in a different league than a lot of people who can more than hold their own on the regional and the national stage. I don’t want to go through a blow-by-blow of the whole meal; there were four of us, we all shared, and 12 or 16 adjective-packed paragraphs gets a little boring about half-way through. But some highlights: A second amuse including a puree of haricot verts tossed with herbs and flying fish roe and served in an eggshell. Green beans and fish eggs not being a combination that comes naturally to me, I was surprised when I found myself begging, to no avail, that my dining companions share with me. The Mosaic Surf and Turf, which is set before you like a pane of backlit stained glass, as though Tiffany were in the carpaccio business; two dozen translucent rounds of impossibly colored eel and beef and scallop and whatever, as subtle on the palate as they were brilliant to the eye. Best presentation ever. Lobster “Begula (sic) Pasta,” a caviar tin bearing butter-poached lobster hidden beneath a classic Richard trompe de l’oile, “caviar” made from Israeli cous-cous colored with squid ink. It goes without saying that the lobster was delicious; what pushed it over the top was the textural interplay between the lobster and the caviar. As one companion said: “It was the best thing I ever put in my mouth.” Read into that what you will. The Scallop with cauliflower cous-cous and egg porcupine. Poached eggs, or in this case, sous-vide eggs, are the new black, it seems. I hardly call it an appetizer anymore unless I have egg yolk running over my tripe/frisee and mushrooms/scallops. This one was more exciting, though, dipped as it had been in fibers of phylo-like pastry and deep fried, giving it a surprising crunch and the appearance of a particularly excited baby hedgehog. After a brief interlude, marked by Flintstone-sized shrimp, we dug into the entrees. Sablefish (aka Black Cod) arrived crisp and creamy, melting away in a pool of sauce just assertive enough to underscore the fish’s own meaty, if delicate, taste. There were shrimp the size of a baby’s arm, with a sauce that almost seemed like barbecue, backed with absurdly compelling onion “carbonara:” long strips of onion imitating your favorite pasta dish. And the lamb. Just a perfect serving of perfectly cooked lamb, with sunchoke edamame and a little cinnamon beet sauce – yet another demonstration that Richard’s kitchen, rather than relying on bells and whistles, on visual puns and surrealist whims, uses those things to support nuts and bolts and bolts cooking that is virtually perfect. For dessert, the standouts were the Coco Puffs (yes, Coco Puffs) rolled in more chocolate and serve in a bowl with bergamot ice cream and mint-infused milk, and a meringue mushroom that was almost as magic as the other kind. It’s not just that Richard’s kitchen puts out extraordinary food. It’s that it has a sense of fun about itself, and ability to combine humor and creativity in ways that enhance, rather than obscure the exceptional quality of the ingredients and skills of the brigade. As the Cat in the Hat said: “it’s fun to have fun, but you have to know how.” Citronelle does, and so do I: eat at Citronelle. It would be rude and wrong not to acknowledge Sommelier Mark Slater, aka “Mark Sommelier,” into whose hands we put ourselves completely and who responded with the best night of wine-drinking this poor boy has ever had – and who enthusiasm for both the food and the wine is infectious. My wine descriptions are utterly suspect, but here goes: Mark started us with a Champagne Veuve Fourny Cuvée R, a blend of three harvests by a very small house in Champagne. Tasted to me like a vintage with a couple of years on it: nutty, a restrained mousse, distinctive, delicious. Savennieres Clos de la Coulée de Serrantes, Domaine Nicholas Joly 2002 : A Loire wine that combines a floral nose and an almost viscous quality with a little of that good Loire acid. Goes with anything, but especially our apps. Delicious. Latricieres-Chambertin Grand Cru, Domaine Rossignol-Trapet 2001 : Just a great red Burgundy, an increasingly rare commodity in my life. Try it with the lamb (though delicate enough not to overwhelm the sablefish). Condrieu Domaine du Chene 2003: We got this by accident. My wife asked for a glass of Condrieu and but when Mark brought the bottle over to see if it was acceptable (as if), we all decided we wanted some (this is why the dessert notes are less detailed) and it was, to my mind, the hit of the evening. Floral enough to be a dessert wine but not even really off-dry, just unctuous and heavenly. The perfect finish to a spectacular meal. Thanks to Mark, Cedric and Michel.

Red Meat. Red wine. Cold gin. Cute waitresses. A smoke.

The critcs love Dukem (12th and U) and Etete (9th, between T and U), and I like them, too. My daughter and I like Abiti (9th). And the slightly upscale Ethiopian-of-choice is Meskerem, on 18th St. in Adams-Morgan.

I woulda' picked you for more of a workboots and DeKalb Feeds gimme cap kinda guy, kinda like the guys in the Cafe Scene in Easy Rider. Aren't the white shoes more of a Midwestern thing. Bobmac -- I like Circle Bistro quite a bit. The chef there, Brendan Cox does and excellent job and is a good guy, to boot. And, if you're on your own dime (don't know if your wife gets a per diem), you'll probably find it noticeably less expensive than, say, Pigalle or a similar Boston restaurant.

Don't forget the Old Bay. I once infused vodka with garlic and dill. That made a hell of a Bloody.

I'm not saying tourists are bad -- I'm a tourist myself on occasion -- but it is true that waiters here in a lot of places (and perhaps any big city) tend to be distrustful and disdainful of the sneaker and fanny-pack crowd. The fact is, in a lot of parts of the country, lower tips are standard and prices are lower -- not a few people take out their sticker shock on the waiters. And in spring, they come here by the busload, ready for the monuments but not, perhaps, for the Thai food or the $6 beers. The differential between "traveller" and "tourist" I laid out was a bit tongue in cheek. But two people could live next door to each other, have the same income and tastes, but let one wear a windbreaker and white loafers to dinner while his buddy wears a blazer and slacks, there's a reasonable chance the latter will get better service than the former. Shouldn't be that way, but it is. I remember a trip to Boston where the hotel has a sign saying "Gentlemen are requested to wear a jacket in the lobby." The Ritz, maybe? Ethiopian can be -- perhaps should be-- quite spicy, though there are places that offer less firery variations than others. Zed's in Georgetown, for example. But they tend not to be critics' favorites. What "distinctive DC food" is has been hotly debated, with little tangible result. You migh tend toward seafood (though that's hardly unknown in Boston) and a little southern/soul food. Cherry Blossoms peaking last week in March, btw. If your here, and they predict a sunny morning, go before breakfast and beat the crowds, then walk over to the Bread Line (near the White House) for a great croissant.

Couple links: Eating in the Dupont Circle Area Threads within threads about DC dining, including some Ethiopian links (our best in-town ethnic; if you don't live near a Vietnamese area and have a car, a journey to the 'burbs for some pho may be in order).

What city are you coming from? What restaurants are you going to? Personally, I think if you have a decent sport coat, leather shoes, a nice shirt and jeans without holes you'll fit right in at 90% of the places in town. The main thing is not to look like a "tourist," which is different from a "traveller" in that tourists dress funny, tip poorly, and say things like "don't you have any normal food in this restaurant" (except when they're eating at a tourist restaurant), and are secretely sneered at by many waiters; whereas travellers spend big, eat exotic stuff and tip standard and get good advice on where to go for drinks from their waiters. So, the the "USS Pascagula" baseball hat, sweat shirt reading "YOU DON'T KNOW ME federal witness protection program" and white shoes of any variety, should stay in the hotel room at dinner time.

Lotta good stuff in this thread, from gourmet to grits (not that they're mutually exclusive).

← I'll let you know. Keep in mind the old saying that obne should watch neither laws nor sausage being made - and Bismark hadn't even seen my kitchen when he said that!

I would also check Arrow Wine in Arlington -- they have an excellent selection of cheeses, and their cheese guy is very dedicated. The C-W operation is more high-grade grocery store in attitude and approach, than a real cheese shop, whereas Aldo at Arrow is a dedicated cheese dude. Aldo used to work at Dean and DeLuca, which does a pretty good job, as well. For good Whisky check "The Wine Specialist" which, despite its name, seems dedicated to fine distilled spirits as well. They are on New Hampshire and M and worth a call.