iamthestretch

I lived in Amsterdam for a while and the prevailing theory about Febo was the automat format was primarily adopted to protect its staff from interaction with late night customers in the kind of biochemical state you have to be in to decide to eat at Febo in the first place. That said, I miss croquettes. Also all night beer busts at De Doffer and entrecote met roquefortsaus for breakfast. Also strapping women in skirts on bicycles, but this is getting waaay off topic...

He was in spirit!

So, who's who then? (Left to right. If you please.) Front: Middle: Back:

OK. I've put up a gallery of pictures here. Unfortunately, you have to view them in reverse order to get the sequence right, 'cause I didn't know ImageGullet rather perversely sequences things that way. Plus, did I mention how worthless I am this morning? I'll put some group shots in the main thread, so that people can edit the captions and identify themselves if they choose to.

Whimper, moan, hurt, cry. Bang, bang, bang goes the hammer. Clang, clang, clang goes the bell. "Sure, why not bring two bottles of wine. We'll never get through it, but what the hell, eh!" "Sure, come on back to my house. I've got a good bottle of Scotch in the cupboard somewhere. We'll just have a wee drop!" I'll post some photos when I can actually see again. I do remember some GREAT food, though.

Since I'm closer to Wheaton, where is this Max's Deli then?

And that's without all those that disappeared after a few moments of reflection. Paging Winston Smith...

Try not to think of it as "poor"; think of it as "authentically French" instead. It also really helps the overall experience to drink a lot.

So is Firefly the appointed spot for the softening up process after all, and what time are the clans going to gather?

All right, the new Chick-fil-a in Silver Spring is open and cooking. I went in for a chargrilled chicken sandwich today and continue to maintain it kicks about as much ass as a fast food sandwich can reasonably be expected to kick. Fresh, whole-grain bun; two slices of tomato, not squishy or mealy; one lettuce leaf, not limp; one grilled chicken breast, tender and juicy if not wildly flavorful. Add small sachet of honey roasted BBQ sauce and eat in five bites or less. My waffle fries, I have to say, were lousy -- even before I put sugar on them by mistake instead of salt. The place is so new it still smells more of long-chain plastic polymers than of grease, but I'm sure time will take care of that small imperfection. (Edited to add: Since you asked, it's at 825 Ellsworth Drive. Take first right off Colesville Rd after the intersection with Georgia Ave, then second left. Must be my day for directions.)

Looks like it may be so long from Crisfields, at least the one in the Lee Building at Georgia Ave. and Colesville Rd. There's three big signs up in the windows there saying "Restaurant Space For Rent." I wonder if rising rents due to the Sprung-ification of the area have something to do with that? Haven't driven by the original location further down Georgia recently, but presume it will keep carrying the torch for old-school, butter-drenched seafood as it has done for 50 years or so.

If you're coming across the river from Virginia, take the Memorial Bridge to the Rock Creek Parkway and continue North past the Zoo and Peirce Mill until you get off at Blagden Ave. Take that until it ends on 16th St. Turn left, proceed North a few blocks and start looking for parking. I recommend the 1400 block (first right off 16th) of either Madison St. or Longfellow St. Just past the tennis amphitheater. If you're coming in from the Beltway, get off at the Georgia Ave. exit and take that South a mile or so until 16th St. forks off to the right. Take that for several miles past Walter Reed Army Hospital and over Military Road, then look to park as above. CK is about a two block walk at 5515 Colorado Ave. If you prefer public transport, take the Green Line to Columbia Heights Metro station and transfer to the 52, 53 or 54 bus going North on 14th St. That'll drop you at the corner of 14th and Colorado, a block from the restaurant. Or there's the Red Line to Silver Spring and the S2 or S4 bus to 16th and Colorado, but that's a longer ride and walk. Did I miss anything?

Ah, yeah, what Heather said: The Quarry House. I can't go down there anymore without expecting to see Terry Quinn having a few beers after knocking off work at the bookstore across the street. I suspect George Pelecanos himself drinks there -- may even have worked there back in his burger flipper/bar back days.

Jim Harrison is a gem, and so is his article in this issue. If you haven't read "The Raw and the Cooked" yet, you really should. Some people find the rampant egotism hard to take, but I think it just adds spice to an already hearty stew.

Bistro D'Oc is quiet and flatteringly lit and friendly and, if you sit in the back left corner, so discreet that you could probably make like this guy should the mood take you. Food's good too.

Wow, really? That's a bummer. Was it dinner each time? The reason I ask is we always go for lunch, to beat the crowds, and I'm wondering if sheer overload has been taking its toll in the evenings. Our mileage is as good as ever, though there has been some occasional slight variance in the pizza crust as they've brought in new guys at the oven. (Jeez, what a geek I am. )

There are some other bits and pieces on the place scattered around eGullet here and here. The Two/2 thing does make searching a bit tricky. I'm a total devotee, but agree with sweetfreak that the pancetta can be overpowering. If you don't want that much kick, substitute the excellent house-made sausage. (When it's on the menu, do not miss the special sausage pizza with hot and sweet peppers. Oh mama!) Also, if you like beer with your pie, try the La Chouffe, a Belgian golden ale they have on tap.

I just had the leftover mac 'n cheese, cold, as a restorative breakfast -- mixed with the leftover tomato risotto, also cold. It was awesome. These avant garde dudes should stop screwing around with foams and airs and pay more attention to the taste and texture possibilities of the congealed state, says I.

Anyone else thinking of hitting Firefly this evening for happy wino hour? It's Weird Italian White night. Please identify yourself with the following code phrase: "So, a lawyer and his elk try to break into a bar..."

Won't be their first DC-area store, but the others are either on university campuses (Howard, AU and UMD) or in godforsaken wastelands like Ballston Common. (I keed, I keed!) By far the best fast-food sandwiches and salads out there, but don't take my word for it. They were interviewing prospective hires outside the mostly-finished SS shop front a few weeks ago, so should be up and frying soon. We usually end up stopping in at the Bowie location next to the Baysox' stadium for a road food treat when escaping town for the beach on Route 50. Last time, I forgot it was Sunday and they were, in line with their founder's convictions, closed up tight observing the day of rest. I honestly thought my hungry and hormonal wife was going to cry. (There was a happy ending. We made it to The Boatyard in Eastport where the fish and chips restored her spirits and the beer they batter it in restored mine.)

Have to say, I thought the one "chisel it on my headstone" quality quote in the piece was from Mark "My Way Or The Highway" Furstenberg: "Nothing I do with customers is considered funny by rational people."

Can't believe the Nectar guys didn't use the umbrella story...

I've got a nice cool, dank stone cellar under my house that you can use for free as long as you tithe me the odd bottle and promise not to park anything so rare that it would require doubling my homeowners insurance.

Spoon Fed Adults. A cool guy. Show them some eGullet love. I definitely also want to test out his claim to have, "the best full-size burgers on this block."

Man, why will no one ever admit to having been seen with me? JPW is right about the food; last night the pizza was even better than the burgers, which isn't always the case. He modestly omits mention, though, of his valiant effort to talk the owner of the new Five Guys franchise across the street out of proposing to his girlfriend, which led to a certain amount of manly Carpe Diem philosophizing, which led to some truly humungous vodka shots. Proving my theory about the essentialy malign nature of the universe, I went to walk those off with my dog at Carter Barron this morning, only to find the Petworth firemen had got there first and were doing their morning PT to the tune of the Marine Corps Anthem being played, and not well, on the frickin' bagpipes. This I cannot recommend.