Salvadoran singeing

Lessons from experimental taco night:

1. The "International Progreso Market" in Mount Pleasant hides the aguacate behind the cashiers.
2. Lazy cilantro chopping leads to chewy tacos.
3. Jalapeño peppers do not mellow after roasting, and anything roasting nearby, including whole poblano peppers, ends up gums-singing hot.

Risotto, baked not stirred

Asparagus and green peas risotto, baked not stirred. Thanks to Pam Anderson's Perfect Recipes for Having People Over, I was saved from hours of risotto tending on the stovetop. Instead, I simply toasted the risotto in a Le Creuset Dutch oven, then poured in some vegetarian chicken broth and sauteed garlic and moved the Dutch oven into the actual oven, after sealing it with tin foil and the pot's heavy lid. I added the shaved Paremsan, sauteed asparagus and peas just before serving.

Fredcation

I did a bit of traveling around the region this weekend, mostly in and around Frederick, Md., where my wife grew up and where my in-laws still live. There was some eating out, including a Christmas Eve dinner at Bangkok Thai Kitchen (1031 West Patrick St., Frederick, Md.), where we were the only customers, the TV was tuned in to a prerecorded "Larry King Live" broadcast that had Larry King wearing a safari vest and handling wild animals, the tom ka gai (chicken and coconut soup) artfully balanced sweet and spicy, and the ped krob (stir-fried boneless duck in chili and garlic sauce) was topped with delicate, flavorful, crispy basil, a flourish I'd love to replicate at home.


Sunday night, we grabbed an early dinner downtown at Brewer's Alley Restaurant & Brewery (124 North Market St., Frederick, Md.), a beloved brew pub operating out of Frederick's original City Hall, completed in 1769. If you ever find yourself on Market Street, odds are you'll be heading for the super trendy Volt, made famous when Volt's chef/owner Bryan Voltaggio appeared on "Top Chef" and (spoiler alert) finished second behind his brother, Michael. If you can't get a table, or you're frightened off by Volt's prices, try the winter stew and the oatmeal stout at Brewer's Alley.




A final Market Street tip: Pretzel & Pizza Creations (210 North Market St., Frederick, Md.), a fusion ice cream, sandwich and gourmet pretzel shop.




In a brief interruption of our Fredcation, somewhere between the Thai soup and the oatmeal stout, my wife and I hopped over the border to W. Virginia, staying at the Bavarian Inn, an alpine-style hotel in Shepherdstown along the Potomac River. The Christmas dinner menu ($45) included a wild game terrine of boar, elk and venison and a 7-ounce filet mignon (Hereford beef) served alongside a Cabernet reduction and allegedly accompanied by a "sweet potato dauphinoise," oyster mushrooms and "melted" leeks. (I only detected the mushrooms and some pickled red onions.)

As always, there was also some home cooking in the Fredcation. Sweet pan-seared, Soy Vay-ed salmon for 1 dinner. For 1 breakfast, a vegetarian version of Giada De Laurentiis's "Mini Frittatas," the role of sliced ham played by sauteed broccoli, red onions, sweet potato and red bell peppers.

National Chinatown

I didn't find much Chinese food in Washington's Chinatown after seeing "Invictus," just a lot of clothing and home furnishing shops with translated signs. What I did find was not worth the hunt. The roasted duck and noodle soup ($5.50) at Full Kee (509 H St., NW) was not nearly hot enough to obscure the fattiness of the duck or the blandness of the broth.

A recent attempt at upscale Asian was no more successful. The highly regarded Sushi Taro (1503 17th St. NW) in Dupont Circle, an elegant Japanese joint nestled above a CVS, offers intriguing, but ridiculously expensive, kaiseki (a multi-course, mostly-cooked, chef's choice menu), omakase and poison blow fish adventures. The seaweed salad is an enterprising mix of seaweeds worthy of a petri dish in my wife's ecology lab. However, the nigiri, despite the unique fishes on offer, does not live up to the expectations raised by the price tag. I'd also avoid the "pickled radish roll," which is pleasantly crunchy but unpleasantly bitter.

I hate to be such a downer, particularly in this jolly time of year. Fortunately, I was a big fan of Zed's Ethiopian Cuisine (1201 28th St. NW), and not just because the owner has managed to be photographed with a impressive number of potentates. The restaurant is all windows, offering great Georgetown streetscapes and people-watching, and its unavoidably mushy vegetables are reasonably priced, given the zip code.

Liberty or tyranny, the mashup

Food Inc.

I finally got around to watching Food Inc. No big surprises, having heard many an interview with Eric Schlosser (Fast Food Nation) and Michael Pollan (The Omnivore's Dilemma, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto). Still, it's always good to be reminded of the "highly mechanized underbelly that has been hidden from the American consumer with the consent of our government's regulatory agencies, USDA and FDA." Seriously. It's easy to mock the "locavore" movement and pretend that "agroindustry" operations resemble traditional farms with pasture that just goes on and on. It's actually more like a cleaner, more efficient but no less terrifying reprise of the nightmarish, mass-production food factories in Sinclair's The Jungle.

Fortunately, my sister-in-law, Marni, cooked only veggies for us while we watched the documentary. Her gingered and curried lentils include lots of baby spinach, canned tomatoes and chopped celery.

Crabby

Two quick, capsule restaurant reviews.

The other day, I recommended Penang, a Malaysian joint on M St. (1837 M St. NW). I tried a very nearby, non-chain competitor last weekend, Malaysia Kopitiam (1827 M St. NW). The menu is extensive and apparently pretty authentic. The roti is pleasantly cheap and chewy. The beef rendang, on the other hand, is bland and dry, not at all what you'd expect from meat "simmered in thick curry gravy with coconut milk and various spices." Props to the Vegetarian Curry Laksa Noodle Soup, however, which is hilariously voluminous and features slow roasted eggplant.

Even on a snowy night, with many restaurants shuttered, I don't recommend finding safe harbor at Ulah Bistro Bar and Lounge (1214 U St. NW, see map above), as I did last night. The bait-and-switch facade is all "Bistro," but inside, it's all "Bar and Lounge." Gaudy, multicolored Christmas lights. Bright flat screen TV. Long bar just inches from the tables, complete with barflies loudly cheering the Dallas Cowboys while following other games on their laptops. In Ulah's defense, the upstairs, as photographed for the restaurant's Web site, looks beautiful. Still, not even the second floor couches could have saved the wood-fired, Ulah pizza, a disappointing pairing of lump crab meat with cherry tomatoes, olive oil, garlic, fresh basil and shaved Parmesan ($15). Fortunately, I was in generally good spirits anyway, happy to be out of the snow and pretty pipón after polishing off the enormous fried calamari appetizer, served with a rich and spicy orange-horseradish marmalade ($9).

How the sausage patties crumble

In the rush before yesterday's snowpocolypse, Harris Teeter ran out of a key staple of our Saturday morning breakfast: Morningstar veggie sausage patties. So we settled for veggie sausage "crumbles," introducing an unwelcome guest, cursed caraway seeds, into our scrambled eggs. As for the decision to go with Aunt Jemima (instead of Eggo) for our blueberry waffles, that was just Keryn's lunacy. I did manage to pull together a pot of roasted tomato soup (not pictured), that was well received by our downstairs neighbors. One misstep worth Pipónerating: I neglected to decapitate the unpeeled garlic gloves, and they ended up black as night and hard as rock, if you'll pardon the cliches (and the amateur cooking error). Thankfully, the roasted tomatoes, broth and heavy cream held their own.

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.

Bolas del chancho

I discovered tonight that my neighborhood butcher, at Delicias Market (3702 14th St. NW, by Spring Rd.), sells "criadillas de toro," bull testicles, or "bull balls," as the sign translates it. In case you're wondering, they sell for $3.29/lb. And while we're on the topic, here's one of my all-time favorite Uruguayan expressions, for expressing frustration when you're forced to sit by the bathroom on a long bus ride: "Atrás como las bolas del chancho," ("in the back, like the balls on a pig").

Greek lamb and orzo stew

Tanya insisted that she was not much of a cook, blaming her mother, who she described as the only Greek woman in South Africa who fed her family with take-out every night. But there were signs Tanya knew her way around her tiny, Dupont Circle kitchen: the dozen cookbooks on her bookshelf; the heavy duty, cast iron cookware from Le Creuset; and the photo album of her dinner at El Bulli, the Barcelona monument to "molecular gastronomy," open only 7 months a year, with reservations accepted just one day a year.


Not surprisingly, the "peasant food" Tanya served up was fantastic. Greek salad, accented by feta and multicolored grape tomatoes. Orzo and lamb stew. And a Greek take on eggplant parmigiana.


Dessert was somewhat less creative and significantly less authentic, but no less tasty.

Pickled tacos

I've had a hard time locating empanada shells around D.C., striking out at both at the Whole Foods on P Street and the Giant by the Columbia Heights Metro stop. (Truthfully, I couldn't even find an employee who had heard of an empanada at either market.) Hunting down fresh tortillas, on the other hand, is a good deal easier. Today, for my black bean tacos, I bought a stack of white corn tortillas from Delicias Market (3702 14th St. NW, by Spring Rd.), where I also picked up some fabulously pickled vegetables ($3.99 for a tall jar), including chopped cabbage, onions, carrots and jalapeño bottled in Virginia. I sauteed onions, cooked up yellow rice and frozen peas, sprinkled on top a bit of cilantro and added fresh salsa (including diced cucumber) from Giant and a bit of Sriracha hot chili sauce.

White chili, by jfs

This photo, shot by Elizabeth H. Eiseman on her Blackberry, hints at toxicity. But really, Joshua Frens-String's famous white chili is downright delectable. Plus, since I bought the ingredients last night, I can at least offer some hints about his family recipe. Psst, it's got green bell peppers, roasted, pulled chicken breasts, liters of heavy cream and chicken broth, sauteed onions and garlic and celery, white beans and minced jalapeño. To find out about the spices, you have to meet jfs and charm him by complimenting his neatly trimmed beard.