Just a squirrel, trying to get a (pistachio) nut

I keep eying the pistachios at Harris Teeter, lured by some strange, deep-seated desire to attempt a pistachio pesto or freaky, green tapenade. Alas, I ended up chopping plain old pine nuts last night with the basil, garlic and Parmesan.




I was not much more creative the other night with my eggplant, red bell pepper penne, but at least I roasted the vegetables instead of sauteing them, a minor, but tasty twist. The minor and not-so-tasty twist for my caesar salad? I squeezed every last drop of juice from half a lemon, and no amount of olive oil, crushed black pepper or mayo could rescue me.




Now these actually were a bit creative, and not because of some tragic, lemon accident. The latkes my mother-in-law fried up in our kitchen mixed potatoes with yams.

Julienne, my dearest

I don't recommend entering through the back entrance of Luna Grill & Diner (1301 Connecticut Ave. NW), on 17th St. and N, by the Starbucks, and strolling through the kitchen to the dining area, wondering the whole time if you're trespassing and should start julienning some carrots to stay undercover.


I do recommend the 8 oz. burger, and the sweet potato fries, and the veggie chili fries, with kidney beans and lentils.

Vetoed

I had bright ideas for a feta pizza with arugula and kalamata olives ("dark eggplant color" with "a flavor that can be rich and fruity"). But I was vetoed, so to protest against the alternative ingredients (shredded mozzarella, caramelized onions and bottled tomato sauce), I did an embarrassingly poor job kneading my Harris Teeter dough.


At the very least, the carbs in today's lunch, refried beans tacos with diced plum tomatoes and shredded cheddar and Monterrey Jack cheese, were served perfectly flat. (Side note: though it sells made-to-order papusas, the new Latin market on Ontario and Kalorama does not yet carry fresh vegetables or even queso blanco.)



Chopped salad: Cucumbers, vine-ripened tomatoes, endive and sunflower seeds.

Hot List

Ages ago, I edited the august Mamaroneck High School Globe. Our best-read feature: a monthly "Hot List," known for its witty rankings and category titles. For this post on a few D.C. eateries I've visited lately, I'll borrow my favorite "Hot List" titles, coined, if memory serves, by my friend Marianne Fichtel.

De La Soul: Montmartre, a classy French joint in Eastern Market (327 7th St. SE). It's not cheap; my brunch panini (above), with prosciutto, spinach, bell peppers, roasted tomatoes, mozzarella and pesto set me back $12. But it has a great patio, and it's just half a block from all the handicrafts.
Fillet of Sole: El Paraiso, Salvadoran pupusería south of U St. (1916 14th St. NW). I've visited twice, and I still have not had time to even read the entire menu. Recommendation: the half-priced appetizers in the late afternoon, including pupusas revueltas con queso and yuca con chicharron curtido.
Seoul, that place in Korea: Spice Express Indian Bistro (1020 19th St. NW), south of Dupont. A decent, quick and cheap option (two curries with basmati rice cost $7) if you want a break from burritos. If you don't, try The Well Dressed Burrito in a nearby alleyway. I haven't stopped by yet, but everyone seems to love its menu, or at least saying its name.

De La Soul: Penang, Malaysian eats (1837 M St. NW). I don't normally hype chain restaurants, but this one just opened and it's in Harvard Square as well, so it got me nostalgic. The decor is frigidly modern, but the complimentary soup at lunch today more than compensated. Lunch entrees include a choice of appetizer, including Penang satay.
Fillet of Sole: Saki (2477 18th St. NW)/Kababji Grill (1351 Connecticut Ave. NW). Both mediocre, but together, I suppose, worthy of a "filet of sole" ranking. Sushi is half-priced in early evening, but not memorable. Kababji is a bit expensive, but I'm told it's a hip global chain, so I suppose, as a foreign affairs student, I should just say I dig it.
Seoul, that place in Korea: La Frontera Cantina (1633 17th St. NW), Dupont East. I gave a second chance to this pretty unremarkable, somewhat overpriced, heavy-on-the-melted-gloppy-cheese Mexican restaurant. There will not be a third.

Sockeye, perhaps

I did not have nearly enough salmon during my trip to Alaska this past summer, so I was pretty stoked to see that my wife, Keryn, had fished out a few fillets from Harris Teeter last night. She glazed them with extra virgin olive oil, honey, balsamic vinegar, soy sauce and dried basil before roasting them. Sides: roasted zucchini and yellow squash and a salad of micro greens, avocado, cucumber and naval oranges.

Costa Rica 1

My wife, a biologist who has spent time in Costa Rica, warned me that every día it's the same plato del día, typically gallo pinto, or black beans and rice.


After one day here, it seems she is on to something. Breakfast by the Río Sarapiquí: following a glass of chilled, fresh fruit juice and a selection of papaya and watermelon, a plate of gallo pinto accompanied by roasted plantains and scrambled eggs.


Lunch, at the Pozo Azul restaurant: a buffet featuring red beans, rice, steak and chicken.


Dinner, in an outdoor mall in downtown San José: casado, essentially a kicked-up version of gallo pinto, paired with steak, fried egg, roasted plantains (maduros) and a small salad.

Tapas

The photos turned out almost as wacky as my homemade pita chips, with garlic-infused olive oil, paprika and irredeemably burned undersides. But trust me, there was also Raclette and goat cheese, marinated artichoke hearts and cornichons, sauteed mushrooms, green beans and broccolini.

Toast, in Thailand

Earlier in the night, I had a few bowls of endive salad with orange bell peppers and chopped, raw, red cabbage. So I wasn't particularly hungry when I arrived at a friend's apartment in Van Ness on Saturday night. That's how I know the "Thai toast" was a bona fide treat, not only merely delicious, but really most sincerely delicious. Prepared by Naureen Kabir and Art Jirut, it had ground turkey, scallions, eggs, garlic and fish sauce, and it was served with a refreshingly crunchy cucumber, red onion salad dressed with white vinegar, sugar, salt and water.

Red cabbage recommended

I suggest, now and again, raw, chopped cabbage for your tacos. Red recommended.

Bisontennial

I go in with the best intentions. Salad fixings, like an avocado, cucumbers and a "spring mix," that's all that's on my shopping list. But last night and again tonight, Whole Foods, that evil temptress, lured me to its butcher shop, where the buffalo meat is deeply discounted, and delicious.


Simmering some ground bison beef last night, I made a meat marinara and a pound of pasta, and I hoped that would be the end of my flirtation with at-home omnivoring. After all, after a year of eating almost nothing but steak in Uruguay, I have been trying to transition to tofu. Ah, but tonight the bison skirt steak caught my eye, and so I gathered up some green beans and onions, raided my roommate's Thai sauces and marinades, boiled yellow rice with frozen peas, and soon I was munching on the flesh of my childhood friends from the Bronx Zoo, those furry, lazy, regal creatures that my father, since July 4, 1976, has always called the "Bisontennial."

Mook

Forgive the hyperbole, but on stardate Oct. 10, 2009, I encountered one of the most impressive feasts I've ever seen. The delay in posting the photos is evidence not that I'd forgotten about this unforgettable Korean smorgasbord, but rather that without help, I simply could not identify a single dish. Now, thanks to the beautiful and talented Sarah Yun, one of the chefs and my culinary translator, I'm ready to relive this meal, and to kick myself again for being too shy to swipe some sobras.


At top, "japchae," sweet potato noodles sauteed with vegetables; "dduk-boki," sticky rice cake and fish cakes cooked in red pepper paste; and "bo ssam," steamed meat wrapped in cabbage. Above, "dooboo" (tofu), cooked in spicy soy sauce.


"Jun," egg-battered, meat and zucchini mini-pancakes.


"Mook," Korean jelly made with green lentils, topped with soy sauce, seaweed, sesame oil and herbs.


DVD (er, slide show) "special features": The chance to see Sarah and her fellow chefs, including Regina Kim and the hostess, Kee Hoon Chung Ju Hye Ki, and to discover another dish from the Korean bounty (spicy garlic chicken, a Korean/Chinese fusion) and another Sarah Yun specialty, served up more recently at a mini-Korean encore feast (two types of "rice fists," translated literally because they look just like fists, one with tuna and the other with "kimchi").

To celebrate Halloween, try chewing a thrupenny bit

I invited a friend tonight to an "Irish Halloween" dinner, and though his official excuse was being out of town, I'm not sure he'd have come if he'd been home and dying of hunger. "It is actually kind," he replied, "even if the two English words that scare me most are probably 'Irish' and 'Halloween,' and I've never even seen them in such proximity to one another."


I have also taken a few cheap shots at Irish cuisine in the weeks leading up to this dinner, hosted by my friend Iseult Fitzgerald, an Irish diplomat who seemed so worried about feeding guests Irish cooking that she nearly put together a Georgian menu instead.


Oddly, Halloween inspired some Irish national pride in Iseult, who not only insists the Irish invented the sweetest and spookiest of holidays, but she says there are traditional Irish dishes (not candy corn) cooked but once a year in October. No, it's not brown bread, though Iseult did bake a tasty loaf and served it with slices of smoked salmon. No, it's not beef stew, either, though I was happy to find that Iseult had filled her cast iron pot with red wine-stained onions, carrots, celery and meat.


Courtesy of the Irish pagans, the Halloween specialties we sampled were colcannon, a floury potato casserole with curly kale, and melted cheddar cheese; barmbrack, a raisin loaf flavored with cloves and allspice; and a sweet Irish crumble fruit pie.


Nothing sounds particularly crunchy, right? But be careful as you chew. In another Irish Halloween tradition (would it be so hard to simply dress up and trick-or-treat in Dublin?), the host hides coins and trinkets in the brown bread and colcannon. Your teeth are not the only thing at risk. Sure, a coin is good luck, a ring means you'll marry in a year and a piece of miraculous medal could win you a spot at a nunnery or seminary. But be careful not to spit up a pea, or you'll be doomed to a life of bachelorhood, or a piece of rag, a harbinger of poverty.

That's pretty heavy stuff from the people who brought us green beer, parades and kiss-me-I'm-Irish pins.

Providence pork tacos

Continuing my tradition of blogging memorable meals that I can't quite remember (either because I was not invited, unable to attend, or simply gulped one too many glasses of sangria), I'm posting (above and below) photos my wife, Keryn Gedan, shot of our friend Andrew Altieri's pork tacos. They're slow cooked in a crock pot with salsa and seasoning, accessorized with fresh fixings including home-pickled jalapeño peppers and other vegetables, chopped red cabbage, onions and cilantro, shredded cheese, refried beans, yogurt, lime and fresh corn salad, fired up by Chulupa and Marie Sharp's hot sauces and served in either corn or flour tortillas.

I'm not surprised to see the elaborate bounty, even though Andrew has two young daughters; Keryn's biologist buddies know their way around the kitchen, including her thesis adviser, renown for his annual cook-what-you-study gala, the Argentine scientists who have toured every butcher shop in New England looking for the best meat for their regular asados, and Andrew's wife, Sharon, whose Saint Patrick's Day feast makes even the historic O'Rourke's Diner, in Middletown, Conn., seem like an IHOP by comparison.

Estilo Salvadoreño

Lest you worry that I popped into Delicias Market tonight simply to check out some bull bits and pieces (or because it was dark out and I was terrified to walk a block down 14th St. to Panam), here is the real reason for my trip: Salvadoreño-style tortillas, hand-made and sold fresh. I filled them with refried beans, onions sauteed in Goya's salsita sauce (with lime), salsa fresca from Giant, locally pickled vegetables, avocado and queso blanco.

Note: The actual tacos were quite a bit less orderly than they appear above, but I saw an episode of Top Chef yesterday at the gym, and apparently "deconstructing" food is all the rage these days.