babka

there's a great place in brookland--cracked orange vinyl seats, best grits & fried egg combo in town, and the godawful coffee that only tastes good in a diner....it's across the street from the meat market, maybe?

for new year's eve crush, it was damn good. donrocks is right about that parsnip soup. had the sunnyside farm beef (in my self-guided course on becoming a carnivorous chef, that's the one steak I've ever cooked--and it was very, very good, and very, very rare in my kitchen...raw, you might even say), which was lovely...and holy cow but that wine list kicks some serious .... happy new year's everyone!!!

Thanks DonRocks--will be either delightedly enjoying your recommendation or questioning your imperviousness to bribes this evening.

interesting--I had no idea it was a chain. Made my selection based on which bakery had the longest line, and that was it--and the chocolate macaron (sp?) I had on the way out the door confirmed that the lines were there for a reason.

That must be it!! Not least because I have a little box of buchettes from Paul's sitting in my fridge at the moment--my chosen souvenir of France (was only in paris for 50 hours, including a bit of sleep.) Many, many thanks.

I spent a surreal saturday evening stumbling through Les Halles--I'd gone over there to poke through Dehillerin and, after 30 minutes of wonderful browsing and feeling very, very poor, I went back out the door and started walking around. I wound up on a lovely little pedestrian street--white bricks which were glistening in the rain, white christmas lights strung over head, and block after block of food--produce shops, meat shops, breads and pastries, Italian, olive oil, wine--mixed in with a few clothing stores and a couple of small bistrots. It was everything I'd imagined a French market street to look like--and was just realistic enough to believe had been largely surpassed in, say, the last 40 years. I was cold and soaked and tired enough to just enjoy the beauty of it without thinking to ask anybody for the name of the neighborhood--or even to read the street sign. Does anybody have any idea where I was???

After scanning the posts here, I nearly skipped l'atalier--but it was late, and my first night in Paris, and we were wandering through the Latin Quarter after visiting the Orsay, and boom, at 6.30, I looked down the street and there it was: L'Atalier Joel Robuchon. so we went. and wow. We ordered a flight of 8 little dishes: we each chose one, then asked the waiter to make suggestions for the other 6. We were the only english-speakers in the place, and they gave us the one english-speaking waiter, which was very helpful--my french is up to small discussions, but not large ones. I'd say half the dishes were executed perfectly--the langoustine ravioli, the jambon with tomato toast, the sauteed scallops, the seared foie gras, and something else I can't remember all stunned us into silence. The other dishes were simply very good. The waiter was also very good about recommending glasses of wine with every other course. I've never been to a two-star in France, so I don't have any basis for comparison there, but if other visitors are scanning this post, trying to figure out whether or not to go, we certainly had no regrets.

Comet Deli on Columbia Rd., a block off of 18th street, will sell you frozen H&H bagels from NYC--they're boiled and mostly baked, and you pop 'em into your hot oven for 12 minutes (I think) to finish them off. I also like the bagels from the Georgetown place across the street from Dean & DeLuca--can't remember the name, but they're _good_.

I use my palm pilot as my traveling book o' recipes, transferring anything and everything useful from the web to my Palm's "Memos," which move handily into the kitchen for cooking. which is to say, I've got a jumbo of too many memos to count on the little doo-dad, and I need organizational help. Has anyone seen a reasonable cookbook utility for the Palms? I want something simple--copy recipe from web, paste into file, and sort by title, dish type, main ingredient--ideally with an option to upload back onto my desktop and then print out requested recipes.

How did I miss this??? Maggie, the little pile of 45 g Fournisseur Brevete de la cour wrappers, which was intended as a birthday present three weeks hence, is hereby dedicated to you...well done!!

After 2 weeks of Atkins, I lost my target of 10 lbs and learned lots and lots about cooking good fish and meats. Previously, I'd eaten anything at all when out or when served, but all of my kitchen skills were focused on vegetarian dishes. I saw the diet as a good excuse to expand my cooking horizons (okay, and prepare for a much-beloved friend's wedding this weekend. :). I'm currently sitting here enjoying a whole new body: There's the brand new scar tissue between the fingers of my right hand from night 5, the slow healing burn on my right index finger from night 6, the itchy and slow healing splattering of burns on my chest and neck from night 7, the bruise-burn on my left ring finger from night 9, and the brand-spankin' new case of salmonella from night 14. As of today, Atkins has been replaced with the strict vegetarian regime of Saltines and Ginger Ale, on which I'll apparently be remaining through the wedding. (The funny thing is, I thought my basic skills were reasonably good--I can whip up a decent version of almost any vegetarian or bread-based dish that you'd like--but meats and fish require a different set of basic skills for which I haven't had practice. and I do mean _basic_. pat fish very dry before placing in pan. learn how to tell when the oil is the right temperature without relying on the scent of onions or garlic. when they say to "make sure the juices are clear, not pink," they really mean "buy a meat thermometer and use it on your first forays, dolt.")

Good woman. Er... woman? according to the hips...yep. I once--ONCE!--pulled a girly-girl on a dead mouse. I was running very, very late for dinner, with ten guests arriving in two hours. I arrived home with bags and bags of groceries and started to pile them onto a chair when I saw him. He had decided, in his old age, that the ancient trap was beneath his dignity, and so he had chosen to exit this world beneath my dining room table instead. Maybe if I hadn't had guests arriving and four courses to prepare...maybe if my friend the carpenter had been home when I called...maybe if it hadn't passed beneath the table... But since those maybies weren't options, I dropped the bags on the sofa and ran across the hallway to knock on my brand-new neighbor's door. We hadn't had a chance to properly meet yet, but I did introduce myself as his neighbor before inquiring as to how he felt about dead mice. He stepped back a bit from the door. Dead mice? he asked. I explained. I felt more than a bit self-conscious but was somewhat reassured in the knowledge that, at that moment in time, it was either get help or lose my tenous grip on sanity altogether. He gulped, said Okay, and came over with a broom, dustpan, and box in hand. He cleaned it up while I hovered in the far corner of the living room. A month later, over several scotches, he said that he was rarely called upon for vermin duties for damsels in distress. He rather considered that rarity to be quite the perk of being a gay man.

I relocated for the afternoon to let the mouse have its sabbath while I had mine. I sat outdoors at a Greek deli where, while reading the paper, I watched two 8-year-old boys claim the table beside me while clutching one ice-cream cone, one 7-11 slurpee, one plastic sack filled with 7-11 candy, one large sack of Doritos "Cool Ranch" potato chips, and, leaving the booty on the table for a moment, place an order for a large fries. Then they ate it. All of it. I decided that my stomach could better handle the concept of a mouse in my kitchen, and that my hips could certainly handle a baklava first. Many thanks for the suggestions and then some. I think I'm going to try the humane trap on top of the stove--haven't had much luck in the past with it, but since I know where the good guest is living, and since he will continue to live after devouring the peanut butter I'll deliver for him, it seems like the best option.

A mouse has taken up residence beneath my stove-top. We've reached a friendly accomodation, the two of us: I clap twice before entering the kitchen to let him know that the giants have arrived. He, in return, clanks the rangetop before emerging, alerting the giants that the mouse would like to move. He inspires me to keep the kitchen spotless for us both, and I've avoided squabbles over food by removing all potential sources of quarrel to the freezer. Really, it would be the ideal host-houseguest relationship if I weren't trying so desperately to murder him. Any suggestions? He refuses to walk upon the nice gluey carpet that we've laid for him beside the stove, and the lack of food hasn't yet inspired him to move out. I haven't yet laid a trap on top of the stove, where we know he walks, because I couldn't face a dead mouse on top of my stove without coffee or whisky, both of which are on the far side of the oven.

Living in D.C., I wind up doing this a fair amount....have to find something to trade for home-made tandoori, bonitsa, mueseli, kitfo....aie. so I start with the regional stuff. Very little of the food that I like has filtered up to a national food--we're a big country, with enormous variation in both agricultural and cultural roots. Beginning with national, for me, would be a bit like trying to learn about Germany by asking for "european" food (and that's coming from a place [iowa] with enormous Germanic influences. Barbeque. preferably vinegar-based and tomato-based, dry-mustard-based too if we can find it. Crabs: Maryland-style hard-shell, soft-shell, crab-cakes. Chili. my mom's recipe, which is probably Chicago-style. Hush-puppies and fried catfish. (foist hush-puppies off on any visitor...you'd be amazed at the places from which you receive requests for cornmeal afterwards. :). Roasted New Mexican chilis in anything. Pupusas. Sedar dinner. and yes, Thanksgiving dinner with all the fixins....for the last few years, I've co-hosted dinner for 12 to 20 people, asking everybody who would like to to please bring a favorite dish, while I and the one or two other Americans in attendance squabble over what's necessary. Always, though, we have the turkey, a squash gallette, cranberry sauce, pecan pie, green bean cassorole with fried onions....okay, that's what I make. can't remember what the others say are necessary. edited to add: just re-read thread. Corn on the Cob too, but only if there's been a traveling connection to Iowa recently...don't care what the genetics are, it's not the same. Also, three fun cookbooks on this: Frugal Gourmet Cooks American America: The Vegetarian Table by Deborah Madison Frugal Gourmet on our Immigrant Ancestors (only place I've found my step-father's Bostonian Portugese recipes written down.)

probably not authentic, but I drain the pasta pre-al dente and then drop it in the sauce for the last couple of minutes of cooking. and if you're making it for a strict veggie, a friend tipped me off to miso instead of anchovies--adds a similar richness to the dish.

perhaps my sense of bar etiquette is skewed in favor of finishing a book, but I end up stopping someplace nice on my way home from a bookstore about once a month. Personal preferences are: The bar at TenPenh. Comfy chairs, comfy bar seats, superb bartenders who are quick with a drink when needed, and yet slow to ask questions until a chapter is clearly finished. The back corner is usually fairly empty, even when the restaurant itself is full, so you can linger by the windows until you're done. The bar at Cafe Atlantico--early in the evening, it's got lots of space, even on a Friday. Kind bartenders who pay attention when needed and ignore you when needed. Also, others at the bar tend to be engrossed in their own conversation groups--not nearly as likely to get hit-on as one is at Zaytina or Jaleo. Levantes on 19th street in Dupont--most of the food is awful, but the lentil soup is superb and has been nursed, together with a glass of white wine, through the first half of several purchasing expeditions from Olsson's. It's pretty and serene, and usually has more than enough room in the windows area to take up a table without guilt. The servers are kind to readers, and even the bar makes for lengthy-okay-reading. (you just have to growl a couple of times at any overly-friendly neighbors. ). I don't know if it's open in the evenings, but the upstairs vegetarian Indian place at the far end of Georgetown (Amma's kitchen? Aditi's Kitchen?) is lovely for daytime reading--some wonderful dishes, white tablecloths, bright windows, and they'll leave you alone until you're done. I wish Palena's could be added to the list--it would make that 45 minute wait for chicken go so much easier!--but it's so formal and full that I would feel uncomfortable without a dining companion. The same, actually, is true of most of the restaurants in Cleveland Park--have tried to find a nice place to sit and read late at night, when I'm on foot and have missed the once-an-hour opportunity for the H-2 Bus across the park, but without luck. It's either chat with strangers in the bar, eat a gelatto while strolling the block, or sit on the curb outside the 7-11 and read by the light of the street-light. (or give up and hike home in the dark. :).

in other words, my formerly vegetarian kitchen just ain't gonna accomplish it without an investment or two, apparently. oh well--thank you for the thoughts on the magic. guess it's only a half hour walk to Palena.

My mother's visiting from Iowa, which means we're playing in good D.C. food. I offered to make her some scallops tonight, and she asked for Zaytinya. (have a lingering feeling that I should feel insulted, but am far too full and happy to follow through on that.) anyway, I took her to Palena last night, where I'm infinitely grateful for the bar menu--can think of few other really delicious restaurants where I can comfortably invite someone regardless of who is footing the bill --zaytinya and jaleo, too. I finally ordered the chicken at Palena and, after the 40 minute wait, we both, quite literally, stopped eating, drinking, and talking for quite some time to speculate, quietly, on the magic that had produced such moist dark meat attached to such richly moist white meat beneath a dry sheath of crispy skin. Does anybody have any thoughts on the basic techniques involved? The hostess kicked in a brining from a clove bath as one step, but I've never pulled off quite that good of a brine for both light and dark meat. And then there's the skin, floating above the meat in a crackling package that's so crisply delineated that it could have been sprayed on...aie. How on earth is it done???

thank you so much! unfortunately, my partner in escapism just came down with the world's worst cold, so our weekend away is off until early October--have dutifully copied down your kind suggestions, though, and will content myself with cold pastrami tonight instead.

newby query from a month-long lurker? Through the most lovely combination of events, I am going to the Inn at Little Washington for dinner on Friday night in a convertible that I don't have to give back until Sunday night--and there is supposed to be SUN all weekend!!! We're booked into nearby B&Bs for both Friday and Saturday night, and I'm feeling overwhelmed with the long, long, long list of farms and vineyards within toodling distance. Every time I try to research a particular spot, I add two more. I know quite a lot about farming vegetables, some about meats and cheeses, and very little about wine, so I'd like to take advantage of the time and the car to learn lots about wine, some about meats and cheeses, and eat a couple of tomatoes off the vine. Has anyone had any experiences with the agra-tourism in the region and have any suggestions to make?