Archive for the 'Food-ay' Category

Fahrenheit

January 11, 2007 | Filed under: Food-ay

” We should look for someone to eat and drink with before looking for something to eat and drink…” ~Epicurus

Kimber is the type of person you’d want to be friends with in the event of untimely serious issues or when you really want to drink and smoke inside of a bar (the horror! And no longer, because it’s illegal!) but not alone because when you drink alone, people consider you an alcoholic. She’s been my best friend for going on four years and knows things about me that I would never readily admit to anyone, including that when I lived alone I only did dishes when I finally ran out of cups and even then, I only did the cups and we’ve had more than one serious conversation about the state of the Middle East with her on the potty and the door open.

Since graduating, the time I used to spend with any friends of mine which once thrice daily culminating with wine at a Georgetown bar, has since been reduced to the occasional get together that needs to be planned weeks in advance because suddenly we’re all very busy; very busy with my Netflix queue and blogging of course. Even when planned well in advance, someone always ends up canceling because of this whole necessity to have Dental Insurance and a 401K. Financial stability is all the rage and at times trumps friendship.

This means that I haven’t seen Kimber since my birthday, in October. And since Kimber enjoys Movado and Coach bags that could fit a small child, she’d also enjoy a meal out that isn’t quesadillas and especially at the Ritz Carlton with the bathroom attendant and heat lamps under the taxi stand and warm towels with which to dry ones French manicured hands. Now that it’s January there really is no better time to meet up with people that you haven’t seen since 1978 for it is Restaurant Week, don’t you know and nothing screams, I will shed these unwanted pounds like a Mushroom tart that involves a flaky buttery crust and melted smoked gouda courtesy of Terrence Feury at Fahrenheit.

I’ve gone on ad nauseum about how I love Jeff Tunks and Geoff Tracy, because I feel comfortable in their restaurants and of course there is trepidation with eating at the Ritz, because do they allow people with roughly $8 to their name at the Ritz? I doubt it. But I do it for Kimber and also because I saw the aforementioned Mushroom tart on the menu. I’m a sucker for flaky crust of any sort especially when it melts in your mouth and I am also obsessed with mushrooms. My hat goes off to anyone who can sear scallops – mine usually come out in the rubbery form that forces me to question any chance I have at becoming a good housewife who can make scallops. The scallops were tender and set in a bed of some sort of tomato salsa concoction which was spicy yet sweet with a hint of pepper and gave the scallops this delicious tangy flavor despite not being deep fried. There were also potato sticks involved and if I hadn’t been in the Ritz, I would have licked the plate.

Shockingly enough, I ran my fingers over my dessert plate while Kimber went to the little girl’s room and then of course snuck a bite out of her key lime pie. I contemplated the Panna Cotta but instead opted for the chocolate tart. Chocolate crust with apool of dark molten chocolate in the middle that spilled over the sides when it’s chocolate dam broke. Right into hazelnut and butterscotch gelato. It was a chocolate butterscotch river and never have I prayed so fervently for a canoe to tip over in such a mixture, because I would gladly swim around and enjoy.

My thing about eating out is not only the food, but also the service and the atmosphere, because what else are you paying for?? Upon Kimber’s arrival she found me sitting in the lobby with a glass of Spanish Tempranillo and the man who would be our server was smiling ardently and we were already the best of friends and he’s now invited to my wedding. I’m a cranky person who is also impatient and so I like to be taken care of immediately and if I have a glass of wine before my ass warms the seat, then damn, I’m happy. Given that I couldn’t even remember one of the restaurants I went to for Restaurant Week the last time, I would say that writing about the melt in your mouth crust at Fahrenheit and it’s impeccable service, makes this Restaurant Week a success.

*Don’t forget, still delurking week. So delurk or risk eternal whore-dom.

*I should mention that people always ask me, because apparently I know these things, when RW is. I do not have some super insider information. I just actively stalk DC Foodies.

Acadiana*

December 15, 2006 | Filed under: Food-ay

(Another stab at food blogging. Work with me here people)

“Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity.” ~Voltaire

I made the decision to drag the Wry one to Acadiana the other evening under the guise that because it’s owned by Jeff Tunks and Gus DeMillo, then it must be excellent. While Geoff Tracy holds a very special place in my heart and has been with me through thick and thin for five years, I cannot pass up what I’ve dubbed the Oysters of Love™. The oysters are still in the shell and I’ve dried before to explain the way they swim in a sea of garlic butter and are broiled with parmesan cheese on top, and how looking at them and dipping the loaf of French bread into the garlic butter makes my heart melt. It’s probably not perfect by any means, but I’ve never been an avid oyster eater this a manifestation of my lack of sexual prowess. But still the oysters that I consumed prior to the redfish - that really isn’t worth the mention, a) because I don’t remember it (due to alcohol consumption) and b) it just wasn’t that good – were as always mouth watering. I feel that if I can recall a dish weeks – nay months – later and still reminisce fondly about how every time I see these oysters I salivate, then that it is a good thing and that makes a food worth it. If all I can remember about the red fish was that it was light and probably good enough that I ate it, then one could say that it was just average and not worth three prolific pieces on how much in love I am. But that’s just me.

Despite the omitted and possibly repressed fish, it’s always nice to be able to go into a restaurant and be comfortable. It may have been the company; because there really is nothing better than drinking with the Wry one and imitating Citizen Kane (“Rose…bud”) and discussing whether or not Joe or Steve is better (JOE!), but I digress. There’s just something comforting about the atmosphere there, which is unpretentious. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not all that pretentious, especially when it comes to my food (have I mentioned the filet-o-fish yet? Yes? Really?). But I enjoy going into a restaurant and having that nice atmosphere. I think that’s why I always loved Chef Geoffs, not that the food was perfect – though they did have banana wontons with caramel ice cream for years and that was beyond perfect – the service worked for me because most of the servers were my classmates and I felt rather at home there.

Though I’m beginning to think that I feel at home at places when I’m with people that I adore and restaurants that I frequent. And really I’m not sure where I’m going with this, except to say that OYSTERS. I repeat: OYSTERS.

And because I’m nosey, I would like to know a few things:

a) Your favorite restaurant (name, location)

b) Your favorite dish there

c) If you had to choose between Grey Goose and Tonic and Wine, which would you choose? Because I chose the former and regretted it for 36 entire hours until I had my first mojito last night.

*fuuuuuuuuck and it’s Blog Crush day and Ummm I forgot, but was just reminded. So, who do I have a crush on? Jonniker (Close runner up: Schnozz). I will write more about her later, and by later I mean Monday (ish) which makes it rather moot, but whatever, I try.

Olives*

November 15, 2006 | Filed under: Food-ay

“Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity.” ~Voltaire

I went through a white wine phase during which I consumed copious amounts of Pinot Grigio on the daily coupled with grilled cheese or a hearty meal from Steak N’ Egg. When I learned that a glass of red wine is good for the heart, I started in on the Yellowtail Shiraz and haven’t looked back since. I have a Wine for Dummies book and keep lists of the Argentinean Malbecs and the South African Syrah, but you are sorely mistaken for thinking that I should give up my day job to pursue life as a Sommelier. All of this means that I drink red wine with everything, including Yellowfin Tuna which totally deserves a white, and I know better and look classy (sorry ‘Klassy’) when ordering Cabernet Sauvignon with my very light fish. And well, it pretty much goes down hill from there. Hell, I think that a fillet of fish from the good ol’ golden arches is a treat and will gladly talk about how well the flavor of the cheese plays off the tang of the tartar sauce. You’re drooling, I’m sure.

Last week, I went to Olives for the first time. The second I put my fork into the Falling Chocolate Cake and the fudge oozed out into a pool quite near to the raspberry coulie as the vanilla ice cream melted on top and it was all a swirl of chocolatey goodness and I died; well I wanted to write about going to Olives. But then I had the sad, sad realization that writing “The chocolate was everywhere and despite the mix of red wine and the olive and goat cheese pasta, I totally didn’t puke on the table” wasn’t exactly a quality food review. In fact, I’m probably the lamest foodie ever, what with the red wine with fish combo and all, and thus decided that Jason is far better at it than I’ll ever be; for this is a man, who beyond all of his other awesomeness, has a favorite gnocchi and knows about the different ‘notes’ in wine, whereas I only know that the gnocchi from Trader Joe’s* tastes like pure ass and that last night the two buck Chuck, gave me a tummy ache. And that my friends, is about as good as it gets. Henceforth, my dreams of writing about the deliciousness and the way the Butternut Squash Tortelli melted in my mouth (despite the tad undercooked dough), were dashed towards the wind. Though seriously people, the secret is that there are finely ground amaretto cookies mixed into the squash that gives it that melty sweet I-will-die-right-now taste.

A smart woman would stop there with full knowledge that she will never compare and Food and Wine will not be calling anytime soon and well Top Chef? Out of the picture. In my next life though, I’ll be Oprah and someone else can make and execute the perfect meal with the perfectly paired wine and know what goes with what. While I sit on my ass and relish in the glory that is a perfect four course meal that involves expert pasta making, some sort of cheesecake, and anything that involves gruyere.

*Umm yeah, food blogging? Not so much
**Oh wait, later this week a special on what HB should make for Thanksgiving that doesn’t involve, shirataki noodles, edamame, guacamole and veggie burgers.

Arch Nemesis

February 16, 2006 | Filed under: Food-ay

An open letter to my former friend turned arch nemesis…

I have no recollection of our first meeting. I remember the walks that my grandfather and I would take to see you, but other than that, those first few years remain a mystery. What I do know is that since then, my attraction to you has been more than troublesome. And sadly for you, something that cannot and will not continue.

I will admit, that at first I found our relationship to be quite normal. Our visits were about two to three times a week. Knowing what I know now, I can’t believe I have survived this volatile and unhealthy relationship. As the years went by and I saw what you did to others, I wondered to myself why I hadn’t been warned of your apparent adverse effects. It’s quite scary really and I was wooed by you. I craved you. Hell, I still do sometimes. But on Friday when, in a hurry, I stopped by for a visit, I ended the evening feeling cumbersome and crappy. It was then that I realized that I need to have will power. I need to stand up to you and say no more! You don’t even offer anything for me, I’m only limited to enjoying just one aspect of all that you claim to offer. Why I kept going back is beyond me, but now I know that there will be no more of that.

Our relationship has been going on for almost 20 years. And though at times you have been there for me when I needed you, I’m afraid that this is now over. Though every time I see you-because, let’s face it, you’re everywhere-I will think of our past and will think of my Grandfather and our Saturday evening walks.

I’m sure we will meet again but for now, it is good bye old friend. Mostly because you are no longer my friend and haven’t been for awhile and I’ve been too naive to notice, but instead an enemy, but I promise, I will miss you and often hunger after you.

With Fondness,

Heather B.