Eat

What a Catch!

It’s a few minutes before 4 p.m.—on a rainy Saturday afternoon—when we walk into BlackSalt Fish Market & Restaurant, in the Palisades. It’s quiet, save for the fish monger and some bustle at the back bar. So this is what all the fuss is about (and those hours spent on the phone wrangling dinner reservations for my former boss), I’m thinking, after examining the fish carcasses on ice and prepared foods/dressings/sauces that bedeck the counter and fridges in the market. We make our way to the bar, where we discover we’ve arrived “just in time for happy hour.” Or, we can wait an hour for dinner service, with its menu of toe-curling prices. Hmm…which will Emily choose?

Oh, the joy of an unexpected dozen raw oysters, for $1 each! I’m giddy, as I use the tiny seafood fork to dab horseradish, vinegar, lemon, and cocktail sauce on a cold and slippery mollusk, taking a few three chews before I slide it down my throat. Follow this with a nice swish of bubbly (only $5) and I exhale with that satisfaction of discovering a great, great thing.

The happy hour menu is enthralling…and cheap. We order with abandon, which makes the experience not-so cheap when we pay our bill. No worries. The oysters are the highlight, for me at least, but the rest is memorable: fresh, jumbo Gulf shrimp for $1 a piece; Rhode Island calamari with chipotle remoulade ($7) that employs an almost perfect combo of smoky creaminess, crispness, and chewiness — without any attribute overwhelming the whole. And I can’t stop stuffing my mouth with finger-fulls of the thinly-shaved BlackSalt and vinegar chips ($3).

I only taste the Provencal seafood stew (market catch, mussels, shrimp, and saffron; $9), but it seems like a great bargain, piled high with fresh seafood; my friend seems to love it, practically cleaning the bowl. The drinks aren’t a bargain as happy hours go ($5 drafts; $7 martinis), but that 16 oz Allagash White tastes pretty darn good when sipping in tandem with bites of calamari. We also splurge on the key lime pie, an $11 indulgence that somehow seems okay in our drunk-on-fresh-seafood opinion…and it is awfully good.  Bottomline: Order lots of food and savor those drinks. We’ll be back, when a car allows it.

Best Dumplings in DC

Having a friend move to Rockville was life changing for me. Seriously. You’ve heard me rave about it before, but every time I visit, I’m wowed again by the culinary prestige on the Pike. Lest you think I’m being sarcastic, let me tell you about the dumplings:

China Bistro, like all great Rockville eateries, is in a strip mall. Florescent lights reading “Chinese Food,” “Coffee,” and “Bubble Tea” sizzle in the window. We take a seat at a four-top that’s miraculously cleared of its guests the minute we enter. “Can I get a beer?” our friend asks. Our server (who is also the co-owner) shakes her head. No booze here.

Patten makes his way to the bathroom, located deep in the kitchen, and disappears for what seems like an hour. Apparently he’s made friends with the cooks and they’re showing him how to make dumplings. He returns with the chef’s suggestions: Mama’s Special Dumpling (stuffed with pork, shrimp, chives, and nappa cabbage; $7.95), Beef Celery dumpling ($7.50); and Chive Shrimp Dumpling ($8.25). We order all three, but only get one plate fried. “Steamed much better for you,” says the owner. Clearly we’re not here for our health, but we listen anyway.

Our dumpling plates arrive within minutes. The pan-friend dumplings are savory and delicious, but there’s something unique about the steamed version: clean and supple, yet intensely flavorful…as if the lack of oil sharpens our taste buds. We dip the plump dumplings in a vinegar/chili oil concoction, which we’ve created ourselves with the condiments on the table. We’ve also ordered the tomato egg drop soup ($2.95 for two servings) per Yelp’s recommendation. It too is clean and flavorful–and fresh. This is not the gelatinous stuff you’re used to. Here, they use a clear broth and mix in an egg and fresh tomatoes, to order.

After scarfing down the dumplings and the soup, our friends are stuffed. Patten and I need more, however. Not because we’re hungry. We just don’t want this to end. We try the veggie tofu soup (per our server’s recommendation), and bubble tea, red bean flavor. The former is chock full of fresh veggies and tofu (Wow, I could eat this every night,” says Patten), while the latter is laden with sugar and giant tapioca balls. It is quite delicious, but veers from the healthy. Again, not that we’re here for our health, but we’re starting to think the low-cal stuff—at least when it comes to China Bistro—is best. What a revelation! We pay our forty bucks (for four guests!!!) and leave with yet another Rockville high. Foodie heaven, yet again.

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China Bistro; 755 Hungerford Dr., Rockville, MD; (301) 294-0808

It’s All in the Name

It’s Saturday night, a little after 7 p.m. We’re leaning on Little Miss Whiskey’s purple sparkling counter-top, chatting up the bartender we have to ourselves. Save for that couple to our left, we’re the only ones in here. But likely not for long. Apparently this place gets packed “late night.” Katie asks for their special drink, a mason jar filled with a stiff mix of frozen iced tea vodka and peach schnapps. Patten opts for something Belgian. And I order a Duckrabbit Milk Stout: the only beer on the list who’s name fits in a place like this. After all, we’re here at Little Miss Whiskey’s Golden Dollar for one reason: its name…and I’m not going to order something generic.

I have only just learned of this bar, minutes earlier, from a friend of a friend. We had no intentions of visiting tonight, but the hour wait at Granville Moore’s encourages us otherwise. We’ll kill the hour drinking. Brilliant.

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There’s no sign on the exterior of Little Miss Whiskey’s—”Just look for the purple lights,” the host tells us, and sure enough, we see the white rowhouse on 11th and H Street NE, with purple flood lights illuminating its facade. Inside, I’m taken with the decorations: velvet wallpaper, golden chandeliers, Louis XVI-like mirrors, and black lights that flood the room in purple. We tour the second floor, the garden, the bathrooms. Our bartender tells us it’s been open since August, and we start thinking about all the nights we haven’t spent here. And then we take a more proactive approach: planning birthday parties, after-work happy hours, summer nights on the patio, where we’ll feast on burgers off their grill.

Thinking of, I’d like a snack. But the only food available tonight is a Jimmy Dean sausage sandwich. I ask the bartender if he’s kidding. “No, but you can’t have one now anyway. I only bring those out after 1 a.m., when you’re drunk.” I guess I’ll have to wait for mussels. In the meantime, we fill up on our bartender’s stories and dream about our next visit.

Photos by Patten Wood

German Feast

My favorite meal as a child was a gigantic plate of veal wiener schnitzel from The Bavarian Chalet, one of Ogden’s best (and most expensive) restaurants. I’d go there most birthdays, sometimes more if I could convince my parents. My mouth still waters at the thought of that meat (and accompanying spätzle)—drizzled with lemon juice I’d squeezed myself using their metal wedge squeezer and smothered with a rich gravy. It was heaven. It was the sole reason I took German in high school. It’s mostly to blame for my lifelong obsession with food and restaurants. And now it’s gone, dead for a decade.

I’ve yet to find wiener schnitzel as good, not even in Deutschland. But in my surprising little gem of a city, I’ve finally found a solid competitor. Tucked in the back of a German grocery store in the office land that is downtown (13th and H Streets, NW), Cafe Mozart is odd from the get-go. After you make your way through the florescent store stocked with German foodstuffs, a back door opens into a small bar—deeper in, through another door, you’ll find the dining room, with its low ceilings, booths, and German posters pasted about the walls. If you come on Tuesday, you’ll also find Sylvia, the talented musician who serenades you all night with her accordion and wooden spoons.

The menu is exhausting. I think it took us a good 30 minutes to order—too many choices and it all looked good. I settled on the pork wiener schnitzel ($23.95; mostly because it was $4 less that the veal), but was distressed about the menu’s absence of gravy. I told the waiter my Bavarian Chalet story. He listened politely then said: “We’ll serve yours with gravy.”

Deep into our pitcher of creamy Hefeweissen, food was served. For me that meant a giant plate of schnitzel, spätzle, pan-fried potato pancakes, a thick lemon wedge (sans metal squeezer), and pork gravy. A meal to satisfy a King. I couldn’t have been much happier. Patten ordered the Debreziner ($16.95), a spicy pork sausage served with sauerkraut and German potato salad. Once he finished his, he ate half of mine and ordered more potato pancakes. He hasn’t stopped raving about his meal, telling all that “it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had in DC.” Our dining friend ordered the Viennese Beef Goulash ($21.95), which was hearty and tasty in its own right, but seemed to get too rich after a while.

Cafe Mozart is not cheap, but it’s the type of place you leave fulfilled. We practically skipped home, with visions of sausage and schnitzel dancing in our heads. Yeah, it made us that happy.

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BTW: Apologies for the month-long break. In short, life got in the way—but City Sifting is back. I love you all, and keep reading!

Baltimore’s Farm-to-Table Darling

A local restaurant with two mentions this year in Bon Appetit? We had to see what all the fuss was about, regardless if it meant an hour’s drive to northwest Baltimore, with a token mile-drive through The Wire territory. (Yep, that is what Baltimore really looks like). Woodberry Kitchen is located in a renovated foundry complex (not far from said territory), replete with lofty ceilings and sustainable frills galore, Dwell-style. We were seated upstairs in 3-sided rectangular booth, which was awkward at best. All of us faced out, as if we were the panel for some contest. The judgment? Cocktails and appetizers merit a visit, but skip on the entrees, which are too big, too expensive, and ultimately too boring.

To be more specific:

Things began wonderfully: I ordered the Farmer’s Daughter cocktail (cucumber-infused vodka and watermelon juice; $10)– it was probably one of the best cocktails I’ve ever had. Not too sweet, fresh, clean. I was also impressed with the other three cocktails at the table, especially the Gov’t Mule (vodka, housemade ginger beer, lime-ginger syrup; $10), which was served in a copper mug.
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Then came our spread of appetizers. The buffalo soft-shell crabs and Chesapeake-style oysters (baked, with crab on top; $15; pictured above) were divine. The chicken wings were moist and flavorful, if not terribly inventive, and the pork buns were just so-so—think: miniature BBQ pork sandwiches with too much of a bread/pork ratio.

Entrees were a big disappointment. The burgers were a hit (and a value, $15), but my fish and chips ($21) were bland as could be. Fresh fish, but just very boring. Fellow diners weren’t wowed by their entree’s either. The suckling pig was fine, but forgettable; the $31 Kansas strip steak was flavorless.

Desserts were okay. The carrot cake ($9) was the table favorite—3 golf-ball sized squares of warm cake with homemade rum-raisin ice cream in the middle—but I probably could have done without.

Quick Look

I need to visit Osteria Bibiana a few more times before I give you my full-on review, but I can say this: The Bucatini pasta dish (with guanciale, red onion, red chili, and pecorino) was delicious. It actually made an appearance in my dream last night, along with a $107 steamed lobster, but that’s another story…

My fears for the new Pizzeria Paradiso oven have been allayed. Not that I’ve actually tried the crust from their new oven, but I have tried the crust from my own GE oven and it’s pretty darn good. Without further ado, here’s Patten’s recipe:

Ingredients:

Bag of dough from Pizzeria Paradiso ($5)
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
1 Tbsp freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 half medium-sized bell pepper
2 large tomatoes
2 cloves garlic
5-6 fresh diced basil leaves
1/4 poblano pepper (optional)
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup olive oil

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1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Dice bell pepper, one tomato, poblano pepper, and garlic. Saute over Medium/Medium-Low heat with olive oil and salt for 10 minutes. Set mixture aside.

3. Toss pizza crust with Patten’s pizazz (see below). Spread dough on greased cookie sheet, then brush the edges with olive oil. Cook crust for 5 minutes. Remove from oven.

4. Spread sauteed mixture on crust. Cover with mozzarella cheese. Slice remaining tomato, then place on top of cheese, along with diced basil.

5. Bake about 10 minutes, or until golden brown. Add Parmesan cheese to taste. Buon appetito!

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Pizza Toss from Emily King on Vimeo.

Coffee Shop for Workers

Now that I’ve spent three afternoons inside DC’s newest coffee shop—Mid City Caffe—it’s time for the report:

Coffee: Excellent. Latte’s are really strong, if that’s your thing. I personally love their pour-over ice coffee, as pictured above.

Food: Unless you’re okay with a sticky bun or spice cake for lunch, don’t come here hungry. As of now, they only offer sugary carbs, which—don’t get me wrong—are quite delicious, but they don’t constitute a healthy meal. I’m hoping they start serving sandwiches soon—even pre-packaged ones would be fine for the time being. Maybe they could coordinate with Cowgirl Creamery?

Ambiance: This is a worker’s heaven. Lots of tables, and (so far) respectful guests. Lunch time is busy and loud, but afternoon’s quiet down and I become VERY productive. There were some air-conditioning issues last week—i.e. the place was about 85 degrees at 4 p.m. So… dress in layers should that be a chronic problem.

Service: Despite other reviews, I’ve really liked the service. I mean, they are still trying to figure out the nuts and bolts of running this place, but they’ve been very accommodating. Their WiFi stopped working last Thursday, and instead of acting too busy to fix it, the manager immediately picked up the phone and solved the issue with the cable provider.

Price: $4 lattes, $2.50 for coffee, $5 pieces of cake. Not cheap by coffeehouse standards, but quality is good… and if you’re staying around for a few hours to use their WiFi and workspace, it’s definitely appropriate. Prices include always-full pitchers of ice water, an amenity much appreciated for those of us in it for the long haul.

Bottom Line: All around, this is the best spot for those who want to get a bit of work done. I like Big Bear too, but it’s too much of a hike for me. Busboys and Poets is another good option (especially if you’re hungry), but sometimes you can get caught at a table with chatterboxes. Tryst? Music’s too loud to concentrate. Steam Cafe? Their coffee is bad, despite their great work tables. Mid City would be just about perfect if they’d serve a little food, so maybe we can coax them into it…

Oven Proof?

Mostly everybody knows about this imminent, just-a-few-doors-down move, but I called today to get a few more details. They will be moving in “the next few weeks,” (she was very vague), and when they do, both outposts will be closed for 1-2 days. My fears were confirmed when I asked about the oven. “No, we’re not taking it with us.”  They’ve installed a new one, which seems obvious considering the size of these beasts, but I had to ask.

Does an oven matter? Anthony Mangieri seems to think so. (I’ve posted his video below.) Clearly, Tony’s a bit obsessive, but maybe it is all about the oven. Call me crazy, but I think Paradiso’s P-street location serves a better pizza than their Georgetown outpost. Will this new oven churn out the to-die-for crusts that P and I often crave??? I’m worried.

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Weekend Escape

I’d never heard of Poplar Springs Inn (or its accompanying Manor House restaurant), but a friend invited me to tag along for a one-night getaway to Casanova, Virginia, 52 miles (1.5 hours) southwest of the city—and you know me, I can’t pass up a trip. Perhaps the hellish traffic on the way makes the 200-acre property seem all the more bucolic: Rolling hills dotted with rickety barns, cornstalks, mossy lakes. Whatever the case, the acres of green offered such a healthy dose of nature, I’d wished I was staying for a week.

The inn itself was modest—22 rooms, furnished nicely, but not as luxurious as expected per the $200 + nightly price tag. (Then again, I suppose you’re paying for all this land.) As we learned when we checked in, complimentary appetizers were served in the bar from 3:30-5 p.m. The waiter seemed just as confused as we were when we showed up in the stone-and-leather Casanova Bar, but once we mentioned the snack time’s official name, Afternoon Temptations, he knew exactly what to do. Expecting some sort of faux-fancy chicken-on-a-stick, my eyes popped when the waiter walked in with two glass plates (pictured left), each topped with a plump seared diver scallop, a demitasse cup filled with yellow gazpacho, and a perfectly shaped oval of apricot sorbet. I was even more impressed when I tasted the beauty before me! All of a sudden, dinner in the cavernous dining room (replete with soaring prices) seemed like a good idea. This chef was the real deal. So we booked a dinner reservation at the restaurant and—hell, while we’re at it—morning appointments at the spa.

Manor House Restaurant

Dinner exceeded expectations. I opted for the 3-course plan: two firsts and a main for $65. (Yes, I had buyer’s remorse before the food arrived.) After a curiously heavy amuse bouche (a slice of lamb atop mushrooms), the first first arrived: lobster vichyssoise topped with Maine lobster salad and caviar. The first few bites were heavenly, but an entire bowl of cold cream can get overwhelming. And I got overwhelmed, unable to finish a portion too large for its own good.

Next up was the dish of the evening, the dish of the month, the dish I can’t stop thinking about: egg yolk pappardelle pasta with braised rabbit and a mustard cream. (pictured above) Every so often—for me, it’s only a few times a year—one will taste something that seems to capture every taste bud, that emulsifies as you chew and ushers in flavors so rich and pleasing that you’re literally overcome. I tend to make guttural sounds and turn my head slowly, from side to side, as I soak in the experience. Such was the embarrassing moment for my dining partner who watched me do this grunting table dance between my forkfuls of food.

The palate-cleansing, homemade peach sorbet arriving post pasta-gasm served its purpose, calming me down enough to approach the third and main course: seared moulard duck breast, served with pan-roasted apricots, herb gnocchi, and a roasted vidalia onion sauce. (pictured right) This was the least complex of the dishes, but still perfectly pleasing: three simple items cooked well. The duck was surprisingly tender, and I loved the pleasant aesthetic trickery of the golden-brown pan-fried gnocchi, which looked more like tiny garlic breadsticks than pasta. At this point, I was too stuffed to remember the after-dinner chocolates (or signing my bill) and I waddled my way to the room to pass out.

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