Lettres de mon Moulin

[DonRocks]

La chèvre entendit derrière elle un bruit de feuilles. Elle se retourna et vit dans l’ombre deux oreilles courtes, toutes droites, avec deux yeux qui reluisaient. C’était le loup.

Énorme, immobile, assis sur son train de derrière, il était là regardant la petite chèvre blanche et la dégustant par avance. Comme il savait bien qu’il la mangerait, le loup ne se pressait pas; seulement, quand elle se retourna, il se mit à rire méchammement..

- Ha! ha! ha! la petite chèvre de M. Seguin! et il passa sa grosse langue rouge sur ses babines d’amadou.

Blanquette se sentait perdu… Un moment en se rappelant l’histoire de la vielle Renaude, qui s’était battue toute la nuit pour être mangée le matin, elle se dit qu’il vaudrait peut-être mieux se laisser manger tout de suite; puis, s’étant ravisée, elle tomba en garde, la tête basse et la corne en avant, comme une brave chèvre de M. Seguin qu’elle était… Non pas qu’elle êut l’espoir de tuer le loup - les chèvres ne tuent pas le loup – mais seulement pour voir si elle pourrait tenir aussi longtemps que la Renaude…

Alors le monstre s’avança, et les petites cornes entrérent en danse.

Ah! La brave chevrette, comme elle y allait de bon cœur! Plus de dix fois, je ne mens pas, Gringoire, elle força le loup à reculer pour reprendre haleine. Pendant ces trêves d’une minute, la gourmande cueillait en hâte encore un brin de sa chère herbe; puis elle retournait au combat, la bouche pleine… Cela dura toute la nuit. De temps en temps, la chèvre de M. Seguin regardait les étoiles danser dans le ciel clair, et elle se disait:

- Oh! pourvu que je tienne jusqu’à l’aube…

L’une après l’autre, les étoiles s’éteignirent. Blanquette redoubla de coups de cornes, le loup de coups de dents… Une lueur pâle parut dans l’horizon… Le chant d’un coq enroué monta d’une métairie.

- Enfin! dit la pauvre bête, qui n’attendait plus que le jour pour mourir; et elle s’allongea par terre dans sa belle fourrure blanche toute tachée de sang…

Alors le loup se jeta sur la petite chèvre et la mangea.

-- Alphonse Daudet, from La Chèvre de Monsieur Seguin

Lutter contre le loup.

[DonRocks]

Today it was lunch at Café Atlantico with two ladies from France who barely ever drink, one of them the size of a munchkin, the other one in her early 70s; naturally we started with a round of outstanding mojitos, and after the meal they proclaimed themselves drunk and laughed hysterically while weaving down Pennsylvania Avenue. A lobster quesadilla special was heavyhanded and filled with what seemed like Monterey Jack cheese which overwhelmed the lobster, but this was more than compensated for by a wonderful dish of scallops with crispy rice in a buttery squid-ink sauce. Shrimp with tamarind oil and shaved pineapple was good (if a bit overcooked), but quail done two-ways with stuffed mango-anchovy raviolinis soared off the plate, and was the highlight of the lunch. Manager Manuel Iguina was his usual professional, charismatic self.

After many years, I’ve finally gotten comfortable with not loving Pizzeria Paradiso. The crust is simply too thick, dense and dry for its own good, having more in common with the insides of an overcooked soft pretzel than anything else I can think of. And yet it’s precisely this type of crust that works with their interesting bottarga pizza, which features a sunnyside-up fried egg sitting in the middle of it – think of it as an overblown oeuf à la coque with little ripped-off pieces of the crust used as the mouillettes. Also, I’ve found that one of their simple green salads accompanied by an order of their fine bread makes a great light meal for under $10.

Cheers,

Rocks.

[sara]

Ok....well somewhere along those(?) lines, I'm trying BDC for lunch for the 1st time tomorrow...

[Mark Sommelier]

"Letters from my mill"?? A cute story about goats and monsters? WTF is this about?

[Mark Sommelier]

Ok....well somewhere along those(?) lines, I'm trying BDC for lunch for the 1st time tomorrow...

Sara,

Make sure to order the Moules Poulettes (either large or small).

[JPW]

"Letters from my mill"?? A cute story about goats and monsters?  WTF is this about?

Don't know if I would call the rather overwrought parable about struggle against a predator "cute". Only in France would a seemingly "child's story" show blood and guts and lupine predation so graphically.

But the analogy is apt viewed from the link to the ovarian cancer foundation. Hence, Don's label on it -- "Fight against the Wolf"

Edited April 28, 2004 by JPW (log)

[DonRocks]

Nectar has gotten a lot of attention in this forum, but I want to stress yet again how fine their cheese service is. Five cheeses, served in a logical progression from mild-to-strong, all perfectly ripe (but not overripe), and at the proper temperature. HOOLIGAN was in charge of cheese service at the Michelin three-star Gordon Ramsey in London, and as far as I can tell, Nectar is still the only place in town to get a world-class cheese course. Their suspended crème brulée is now served with Armagnac-soaked prunes - served in two face-to-face earthenware bowls like a bowl of miso soup with a lid on it, the joke's on the diner when they pick up the top bowl and find themselves holding the crème brulée in their hand.

I cannot think of another time in recent memory that I walked out of a restaurant because of bad service, but a quick visit to the bar at Gabriel left me sitting there, unattended. There were two people working the bar, and about four patrons there. When I arrived, I asked if they served their regular dining room menu at the bar, and the bartender said "we're really busy, let me go ask the chef," then came back five minutes later with a menu, didn't take a drink order, and then went to the other side of the bar to wash glasses, not to appear again. I took a quick walk through the dining room, saw that they were about half-full, and that there wasn't any food on the tables. Then I walked back into the bar, noticed something on the bar menu served "with Heinz," asked myself what on earth I was doing there, and then left.

Cheers,

Rocks.

[DonRocks]

What a difference a week makes (from my most recent visit to Sushi-Ko). Sunday night I had dinner at Raku in Bethesda, and ordered the chef's choice sashimi. It was utterly mediocre, and bordering strongly on being just plain bad. Nothing tasted fresh, not the salmon, not the tuna, not the flounder, not the giant clam, not the yellowtail, not the sweet shrimp: nothing. Nothing was quite inedible, but everything was past its prime. Unsauced, raw dishes such as this leave no room for anything less than perfect clarity and freshness, and this sashimi plate was the culinary equivalent of an aging stripper, wrinkled and girthy, going through the motions and pretending that everything is as it once was.

Thai Square in South Arlington is the best Thai restaurant that I know of. I have been going there for several years, and have been known to drive almost an hour roundtrip just for carryout. From simple sauteed bean curd with basil and chilis to shrimp with bean threads, tomatoes and onions through slices of roasted duck in a spicy red curry with pineapple (yes, pineapple) and basil to pig-knuckles, long-stewed with herbs and pickled lettuce, everything last night was in keeping with the informal, inexpensive greatness that is so representative of this fine ambassador of Thai cuisine. I love Thai Square.

Cheers,

Rocks.

[sara]

Heard about Thai Square many times--where exactly is it in Arlington?

[DonRocks]

It's on the northeast quadrant of the intersection of Glebe Road and Columbia Pike, right down from Papa John's pizza. It's hard to believe, but they have valet parking in back, amongst the dumpsters, in an alley: a guy is back there waiting for cars to pull up even when it's not crowded.

I even found a web site for them here.

[DonRocks]

It doesn't get any press, but Tesoro next to the Days Inn on upper Connecticut Avenue offered up a pretty decent hunk of lasagna with spinach, veal and ricotta. Plus how many restaurants have the owner taking your order behind the bar? I have a strange and rare medical disorder causing me to require a glass of red wine with lasagna. So after enjoying a Peroni, I ordered a bottle of inexpensive red from the cordial Ignazio Bonanni, who actually downsold me, urging me to order a glass of his house pour from Piedmont, assuring me it was a wonderful wine, and saving me about $17 in the process. No, the wine wasn't all that great, but the gesture was, and he even gave me a generous refill on the house.

It was chef Drew Trautmann's night off, but Mendocino Grille and Wine Bar still served some first-rate softshells. Billed as crispy softshell crabs, with wild mushrooms, orecchiette pasta, garlic chives, greens and pan sauce, this dish grew more remarkable the further into it I went. Anything but crispy, this bowl was a joyous, liquidy, sloppy, juicy celebration of the succulence of the great molted blue crab, the crabs being floppy, and the "sauce" being a broth that grew thicker and more complex as the softshells were cut and slowly integrated their flavors into the rest of the dish. Not at all cheap at $26 for two small softshells, it was an unlikely entree, perhaps an accidental execution from the kitchen, but a fascinating interplay of dynamic textures and temperatures that I'll remember long after this season has come to a close.

Cheers,

Rocks.

[tomdc]

My one experience at Tesoro about a year ago was a keeper. I ordered the Saltimbocca, it arrives accompanied by some pasta, I ask for some fresh, grated parmesan cheese, waiter goes to get some, returns to tell me they're out of parmesan, would I like some fresh, grated mozzerella instead.

Mind you, it's 7:30pm, the restaurant is across the street from Calvert Woodley, Giant Food and, in a worst case scenario, CVS for the cardboard stuff. Someone can't make a cheese run !

As I'm eating the Saltimbocca, the lack of cheese is eating at me. The waiter walks by and I stop him to ask that he relay my annoyance about the cheese situation to a manager. He looks at me and says "don't blame me it's not my fault"!

Haven't been back since,

BTW, the Saltimbocca was pretty good.

[dcfoodie]

I knew I should have taken French instead of Spanish in high school.

[DonRocks]

On hamburger notes, I'm please to report that the last time I went to Matchbox, the miniburgers were as great as they have ever been in the past. I ordered them medium-rare, and they came out medium-rare. Juicy, delicious, and with onion straws that were cleaner than they were on the previous visit, it was a pleasure, a reminiscent pleasure, to go through a platter of six of these jewels one more time. Matchbox at its best. Congratulations to Chef Graig Glufling for maintaining (restoring?) the excellence that these miniburgers put on display a year ago when they first made their debut. I adore them, and the only ones I've had in town that compare are those offered by Restaurant 701.

Cheers,

Rocks.

[John W.]

Lots of talk about burgers here, especially the well-deserved compliments on Palena's and Matchbox's offerings. My experience with the wagyu burger at Citronelle's Terrace deserves mention as well. Not cheap at $24, it is very simply served with toasted brioche bun and a smear of aioli. No cheese or anything else to hide the quality of the hand-chopped meat, which absolutely shines. Add the wine stylings of Mssr. Slater, and you've got quite the anti-Helix lounge happy hour.

[DonRocks]

Tonight it began at the end, and ended at the beginning.

And when it had ended, one question remained:

At what point does the soul of the chef depart from the body, swept down into the green rush of current while struggling to look back over his shoulder, trying desperately to twist and turn and right himself and paddle upstream, seeing the rapidly fading party of skeletons behind him, sitting around the bar, smiling and laughing, clanking their glasses, not even knowing they’re at his funeral, not even knowing they’re mourning his loss, not even hearing over

their own merriment the

vanishing cries of

the soul that is

being swept

away.

[morela]

Rocks, does it have to be so morbid? Food sustains us and the meal started at home, but selling out isn't death. There are so many more evil things, so many more. What about the dudes that are smarter than the dude you encountered tonight?

Plus, if everything were as it should be, I wouldn't be drinking. yoyoyo, keep it real.

[hillvalley]

Rocks, you need a vacation. Might I suggest France or some place where you can smack a few tennis balls around?

[mnebergall]

Rocks, you need a vacation. Might I suggest France or some place where you can smack a few tennis balls around?

I think the guy is on one perpetual vacation. He just got back from a vacation in AZ and he's already bummed out.