iamthestretch

Speak to Thrasher about that. I believe he may be in the market for use in his next cocktail extravaganza. Why stop at goose liver?

So, can I tell a really, really shaggy dog story? (For those of you with little time to spare, we will eventually conclude that Corduroy rules, as if any more testimonials are required. Feel free to go back to “Today’s Active Topics.”) It’s like this. My good friend, let’s call him K, has been really scarce for a while, so I was happy when he called and suggested getting together up for few happy hour beers at RFD after he wrapped up a Friday afternoon meeting. It was a bit of a shock, then, when he mounted the bar stool next to me with a pronounced groan, ordered a water and proceeded to sweat buckets into my Paulaner Octoberfest - enough of a shock, in fact, to throw this whole narrative into the first person: “What the f*ck is wrong with you, man?” “Sorry, lunch was long and liquid.” “Where did you eat?” “Actually, I didn’t eat, and we were at Camelot.” “Camelot? For lunch?” “Um, yeah.” “As in: Drink and Strip and Spam-alot?” “Um, yeah.” “Well what were you drinking?” “Stoli Vanil and ginger ale, dude. So much of it.” “Thus establishing, against all available evidence, that you’re actually a lesbian. Weird, but I can process it. So, are we going to eat anything here?” “No, I’m going home to be really sick and nurse my self-hatred for a while. I have a serious date later on and I need to be ready. Can I pay in singles here?” (Horrible eyebrow waggle. What a catch! Exit K, stage right.) Left, then, with a perfectly serviceable married guy pass-out for the evening, and no one, however pre-basted, to share it with, I hiked a few blocks up to Corduroy to check out the bar menu. Which turns out to rule. (Didn’t we mention that at the beginning?) When you order spring rolls, and they’re on special for $4, you assume they’ll be bite sized at best, right? Not these. These are Filipino spring rolls, baby, the Ron Jeremy of pastry cigars. Three at seven inches, minimum. Tasty, too. And remember the goat cheese in crispy potato nests? Also $4 for a basket. The good wine by the glass list? Low, low prices. The great service? Everybody says: Hey, nice to see you again. Maybe some special bits and pieces appear. At which point you KNOW you’re not worthy. Save the singles. This is the hour that is the happiest. Your mileage will not vary. Stretch.

Had lunch at Jackie's today on my lonesome -- after various eG stalwarts refused to come along on the feeble grounds that they were busy trying to earn a living. It was well worthwhile. Tried the riblets with chili, scallions and black beans; they were tender and tangy, though the beans were a flavor note rather than a physical presence. Followed up with the day's lunch special -- a really surprisingly good Cuban sandwich with well-toasted French bread, a thick layer of juicy roast pork and about the right proportions of ham, swiss, pickles and yellow mustard. (Walking back to my car, I thought I had a knot in my shirttail or something that was rubbing annoyingly against the base of my spine. Turns out I've sprouted a curly little pink tail.) Business looked quite brisk for lunchtime on a first week open and Jackie's definitely seems to have tapped into a reservoir of goodwill among people who live or work nearby. "We're all so happy you're doing so well already," the woman at the table next to me gushed (sorry) to her server. "This is just so great!"

(On behalf of a somewhat disillusioned female friend.) Rule #88: While big tips and big tits may be only one letter apart, the quality of drinks can vary widely and should surely also be taken into consideration.

I imagine one of the best things about working for an alternative paper is that when you get a killer quote like that, you can use it. All of it. Brings to mind a true story. A friend of mine, some years ago, was reporting on a very contentious congressional committee meeting, at which a highly controversial bill was approved and sent off to the House floor by the narrowest of margins. After the final vote, he rushed to collar the bill's main opponent, a heavy hitter who had sunk a lot of time, effort and political capital into trying to derail it. The conversation went like this: "Congressman Y -- Tom X from the Daily Hardscrabble, what do you think of the way it went in there?" "What do I think? I think we just fucked the American people!" "I'm sorry, Congressman, I can't print that. I work for a family newspaper." "Yeah? Well, then write that I think we just fucked the American family, too!" I believe the final story simply noted that Congressman Y had "expressed disappointment and concern at the measure's potential effects on the economy and consumers."

I'm sorry to hear that. I used to go into the shop now and again when I worked in the City years ago to goggle at their selection. With Berry Bros. & Rudd just down the street, it could get really expensive, really fast to walk down that block on the way to the Green Park tube stop.

Oh please, please, please don't let it be Sox/Astros. The baseball as politics/politics as baseball metaphors will be laid on thicker than a Ray's ribeye. And then the wrong f*ckers will claim both titles and the top of my head will blow off and lazily flip over a few times and drop back into place back to front and the mullet tail will cover my eyes and I won't be able to see what I'm ordering and will be forced to eat nothing but tasting menus and that will just play holy Hell with my girlish figure. Edited to add: Because it's all about me, obviously.

I was in my local wine store today and decided to pick up some Scotch. I was in two or three minds about what to get until someone went in the back and pressed the above bottle into my hand. It appears to be a house blend from the well known London spirits merchants, though their Web site gives no hint this even exists. It tastes its age, costs all of $30 and it's bloody good. Has anyone else come across this before? Perhaps it's a U.S.-only bottling?

← It's been officially christened Pear of Desire, and we got a taste with lunch today. Wild. The unctiousness of the foie gras and the prickle of the ginger are a contrast you won't forget. Todd says they're selling like hotcakes even at $12 a pop. He's also got some more cool stuff cooking in his basement right now. Not to be unveiled until the time is right, but he did consent to let me take a picture of the creative process.

I like this one, Mike, as I appear to be praying very hard. Probably that there is still some Corison left to drink! Apart from a great meal, that was a master class in picking wines to complement food, wasn't it?

Oh, man. Not to be a gusher, but that was just great. Great food, great wine, great service, great value, great company. We should do this again. Just not for a week or two. (Rubs Buddha belly. Smiles inscrutably.) Edited to add: Big ups to Mike for organizing, Chef Power for expediting and Fero Style for making it all so smoooooth.

Belga Cafe will be opening for service "probably Friday or Saturday," according to the appropriately-accented person answering their phone this evening. You can sign up to their email list on the Web site if you want to be the first to know. So much great beer! I feel like a seal that's just won a lifetime supply of really oily fish in the annual rookery raffle.

I'm not sure, but I actually don't think she was being intentionally snide there. What we have here may be a failure to communicate. Anyway, yes, you could probably put together a decent meal from the vegetarian options. The soup of the day is often a vegetable preparation, there are some interesting salads and, if I remember correctly, a fair few small plates that don't involve meat. And if you do eat fish, you're well set. The same goes for avoiding pork if you keep kosher or halaal. And the catfish sandwich remains on the menu for the forseeable future, as far as I know. PS: No one yells. Honest.

After coming across this thread about the most expensive restaurants in the country this evening, I began to wonder if the above New Year's Eve dinner might not be the single fattest ticket on offer in D.C. given that it doesn't appear to include wine. (The brochure simply states the meal comes "with a champagne toast." Which better be Clos du Mesnil!) To be fair, given the evening in question, it's entirely conceivable that that's also covering some other entertainments as well. But still, to paraphrase Monty Python, mooooooh, ay? Mwoohohohohoo, ay? Whohohohohoho, ay?

Whatever else you want to say about Tom, the man is clearly not laying down on the job. 650 restaurant meals in the past year! (I hope to Hell he didn't mean year to date.) He's, like, the Wilt Chamberlain of cuisine. Tom Seatsomuch, we dub you.

Just got a stylish little brochure in the mail from the Mandarin Oriental which includes the Holday Celebrations menu for CityZen. It appears Eric Ziebold is going to work very hard -- but also become staggeringly rich. Which, incidentally, one would have to be in order to hit all of these little soirees. Christmas Eve. 5 course tasting. $130 pp excl. T&T. Best bit: Torchon of Moulard Duck Foie Gras, Flowering Quince Marmalade, Balsamic Glaze, Toasted Brioche. New Year's Eve. 9 course tasting. $225 pp excl. T&T. Best bit: Roulade of Dover Sole, Perigord Truffles, Pearl Onions, Pommes Rissoles. New Year's Day. First annual "Over the Top" brunch. $110 pp excl. T&T. "Traditional brunch items with an eclectic twist." Let us know what they were like, Rocks. (PS: Cafe Mozu is doing parallel 3-course dinners with slightly more Asian flavors and at a slightly more accessible $72 price point.)

Yeah, nice one mate. I chose the Lincoln memorial myself, but you can't go wrong with either on a beautiful fall night. All that shining marble and high sentiment, the moon over ruffled water, the faint tang of goose poop carried on the wind. You probably had a better dinner beforehand though, as we went to Kinkeads. Didn't know any better back then. Best of luck, anyway. Don't forget to be fruitful.

Does that make him a fun guy to be with?

Many thanks to all of you who took the time to respond to my query and help us have an extremely tasty time out in your beautiful, sunburned corner of the country. With a baby on the way in January, this was probably our last adult fling for, I guess, 20 years or so – and we tried to make the most of it. I won’t detail everything we ate (memory and modesty both forfend), but am happy to testify to the restaurants and dishes we particularly enjoyed. Best Dinners: Convivo – Easily the best food I’ve ever eaten in a strip mall. (Or strip club, for that matter.) Not much on ambience, but between the classy, imaginative cooking, good service and great value, I wish this place was somewhere up my street back at home. Standouts were the lobster tamale, flatiron steak with Roquefort sauce and an exemplary brownie with just a hint of chili. Oh, and the pleasure of drinking a Colheita roughly as old as I am for all of $10. How come this gem is still cropping up in the best-kept-secret category? Roaring Fork – A gut buster. Where do you guys put it all? But way too good to let any go to waste. The baked crab enchilada was an eye-opener and the beef short rib in Dr. Pepper BBQ sauce must have come from Paul Bunyan’s ox. Except it had the consistency of French butter. Sorry Babe… Best Lunch: Barrio Café – No debate. This place is fantastic. Everything said previously about the guacamole is true (POM wonderful!), and then some. Killer tacos – we tried the shrimp and the carne asada – and goat cheese churros that make you beg for mercy. “Why,” we beseeched the multiple paintings of La Virgen de Guadelupe. “Why can’t you send us just one cook like this?” Best Wine List: Cowboy Ciao – Massively comprehensive and quite insanely eclectic, this was as much fun to read as it was to order from. Hmm, shall we go with the Bulgarian merlot, the Bosnian Bordeaux blend or the Transylvanian cabernet? (Perhaps that last might be rather thick and salty?) You’ve also got to give major props to anyone who can assemble literally dozens of pages of wines both under $20 and over $200 on the same list. In between, very fair prices, I thought. Best Breakfast: Breakfast Club – Mmmm. Huevos con masa. Seriously addictive. They also serve a nice pot of South African rooibos tea, which brought back all sorts of memories in this old émigré. Biggest Omission: Pizzeria Bianco – I so wanted to go here, but it just never worked out. First we got caught in the backwash of [EXPLETIVE DELETED]’s motorcade on Wednesday night, when we were supposed to go downtown and try to get in. Then we got lazy and sun-struck and were always drinking beer and/or napping around sundown instead of heading off to get in line. Next time. Others: Pizza Picazzo (Sedona) – Caught this on a day trip. Decent ingredients, decent crust. 70th percentile pizza. Los Sombreros – Way ahead of any Mexican we’ve got in DC, but not in the same class as Barrio Café. Los Olivos -- Interesting building. Um, that's about it... The Good Egg – Decent diner. Malee’s – Eh. There’s worse Thai. Room service at the Phoenician -- How much did you say that was again? Holy cash flow impairment, Batman! Thanks again. Got back to DC this evening and, you guessed it, it was raining buckets. Oh well.

How much is wine going to figure into this? Because that's where the money goes. Or, at least, that's where my money seems to go. I lose track after the first few bottles...

Don't know about pinko, but I had serious deja vu this evening in downtown Scottsdale getting snarled up in Candidate X's motorcade. "Fuck," said my ever eloquent vacation companion. "This we could get back home anytime!" On the plus side, we're having dinner at Robert McGrath's place tonight, which is something we most definitely could not get at home. (OT aside: As staunch partisans of Candidate Y, we eventually had to pull over to let the aforementioned motorcade through, and clearly surprised some of the very polite Phoenix cycle cops manning that particular corner by being the only members of the small, instant crowd moved to shout: "You suck!" as it passed by. "We're from DC," my wife explained. "Ah," says the young patrolman, "You take it seriously out there, then?")

Is that what the 20lb brisket was for? How many football teams did you have to feed?

I bought the book on Amazon for a friend's birthday recently. He says it's full of bad words! Is there any guarantee Mr. Bourdain would respect our delicate DC sensibilities? As to format, how about a restaurant/bar crawl? Maximum chaos potential.

Additional nominee, best lunchtime performance by a sandwich special, Restaurant Eve. Today was braised beef with roasted onions, micro arugula and German-style mustard on grilled sourdough bread. Starts with a crunch of crispy crust, then offers up a little swirl of griddle grease, a big hit of buttery, mingled meat and onion and finishes with a tart pop of mustard seed between the choppers. Follow with apple fritters, toffee dipping sauce and some strong, dark coffee on the side. Be replete.

Actually, mine still might be. But that does raise an interesting corollary question: does DC have a superpremium sandwich standout? Something ridiculously excessive along the lines of the Bistro Moderne burger in New York that's stuffed with braised short ribs, truffles and foie gras? (Michael Landrum's hand-chopped sirloins-onna-bun with tartare deviled eggs on the side don't count, as they're not available to plebs like you and me. At any price. )