Mennonites

Previously, any mention of the Mennonites (or the Amish, for that matter) conjured up memories of my late 1990s trip to Hershey, Pennsylvania ("The Sweetest Place on Earth"), where the organizers arranged a side trip to Amish Country to give respite from binging on Hersey's Kisses. From now on, I'll have at least one more image: the antique Mennonite (and Amish) crib quilts at the organic Restaurant Nora (2132 Florida Avenue NW).

On the off chance that the quilts (and the funky, futuristic infinity wine cellar in the back of the 19th century former grocery) are not enough to sell you on its mostly $30-plus entrees, here's a quick sampling of the refreshingly (though not self-consciously, ostentatiously or even overly adventurously) creative dishes that we sampled on a recent evening: Butternut squash soup with crunchy pepitas, toasted pumpkin seed oil and creme fraiche ($12, though ladled out gratis between courses during our visit); Spanish octopus a la plancha, with olive oil crusted potatoes, chorizo, gremolata (a garnish of minced parsley, lemon peel and garlic), watercress and a Romesco sauce that made me achingly nostalgic for the beloved Romesco wrap (egg, spinach, mushrooms and provolone cheese and a homemade hazelnut roasted red pepper spread) at The Edge (199 Wayland Avenue,
Providence, R.I.), my old haunt in Providence's Wayland Square ($15); feta cheese and beet salad with oranges, grapefruit, beet tuile ("a thin, crisp cookie," or chip, in this case) and pomegranate vinaigrette ($13); pan-roasted Maine scallops and cauliflower risotto with leeks, turnips, peas, kohlrabi (a member of the turnip family sometimes called cabbage turnip) and a brown butter emulsion ($32); and, nicely paired with the art, an Amish rabbit duo loin and confit, with a ramekin of mustard spatzel, braised red cabbage, Brussel sprouts, chanterelles, turnips and cherry stout jus ($35).

Speaking of Providence, here's a slightly cheaper option than Nora (excluding airfare): Mi Guatemala Restaurant (1049 Atwells Avenue, Providence, R.I.). It was not our first choice last night, but the disappoint of finding Chilangos and Mexico closed (and lacking the energy to drive across town to El Rancho Grande) quickly faded thanks to the incredibly homemade tortilla chips, salsas (sweet and chipotle) and black bean sampler and complimentary beefy sopita.

Home of the Sweet Potato Pie

I suppose I should have been ready for the question, "hot or cold?" Henry's Soul Cafe (1704 U St. NW) is the "Home of the Sweet Potato Pie," and apparently the hot or cold dilemma is an age old debate, and your answer depends in part on whether you're in an à la mode kind of mode, er, mood. Anyway, the place is the type of greasy spoon Jane and Michael Stern would (rightly) go on about. I just sampled the pie today (hot, and delicious), but I predict I'll be back soon. The $5 weekday lunch special, 10:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., comes with cornbread and two sides, such as fried okra or candied yams. Henry's opened in 1968. How have I not been there until today?

In My Shoes

I know the admittedly very creative mathematical ballet short has been the real crowd-pleaser among the widely hyped video essays submitted by this year's applicants to my alma mater, Tufts University, but allow me to cast a rogue vote for "In My Shoes." I say "rogue" not only because "Math Dances" has attracted 97,058 YouTube views while my nominee has logged just 25,541, but because I heard a Splendid Table segment this morning about hunting buffalo in the Alaskan wilderness and now I simply can't get Going Rogue Sarah Palin out of my mind.


[Listen here to an All Things Considered report on the Tufts video phenomenon, and if you're really into amateur, multimedia madness, here is one of the short travel videos I put together in Uruguay in late 2008.]

That new sound you're looking for?

My in-laws were in town tonight, those great patrons of Pipón.* (Since I moved to D.C. last July, they have sponsored trips to Ulah, Founding Fathers, Busboys and Poets, Grapeseed and countless Frederick joints.) Today's treat? Marvin (2007 14th St. NW).

Like nearby Eatonville, named for Zora Neale Hurston, Marvin is an homage to a great American artist, Marvin Gaye, who I'm told lived in the neighborhood. The menu, however, is not simply southern. Instead, it's also a reflection of Gaye's "two years in self-imposed exile in the small Belgian town of Ostend." Try the "Chicken Liver and Foie Gras Royale," served with sweet onion marmalade and toasted baguettes, and the lamb with fingerlings and salty broccoli rabe.

*They do not actually read my blog, but without them, Pipón would only feature my home cooking and reviews of the SAIS cafeteria.

My 'secret'

There's a funny shout-out to Pipón on a blog written by Scott Kingsley, a former photographer at The Providence Journal, where I used to do financial reporting. Scott apparently noticed that I'd posted one of his videos, the "Stimulus Package" rap, on Pipón. "Former business writer Ben blogs about food?" he wrote. "Who knew? Everyone has a secret."

Eye Bar cure

Keryn's Eye Bar (1716 I St.) hangover cure, frozen Tater Tots, a fried egg on an English muffin and Marie Sharp's. 

The Reef madness (Tell Your Children)

I was starving and freezing up there on the third floor and still dazed from the handful of Sam Adams that had helped me get through the male beauty pageant known as "Mr. SAIS," where surprisingly toned, Speedoed and Spandexed classmates gyrated on stage and made clever economics jokes ("If you got a problem set, yo I'll solve it/check out the graph while my TA revolves it"). Still, even sober, toasty and un-PTSDed, I would have appreciated the food at The Reef (2446 18th St. NW).

Adams Morgan on a weekend night is more fraternity party than foodie paradise. And The Reef, with its fish tanks, bouncers and low lighting, looks deceptively like a bar/nightclub. Still, it lives up to its boast that its chef, who favors locally purveyed, seasonal vegetables, free-range poultry and meats and fair-catch seafood, "keeps it real." I tried the bison burger ($12), six ounces of New Frontier buffalo from Virginia topped by caramelized onions ($0.25) and blue cheese ($1), and the special fries, seasoned with lavender and sea salt. Delicious.

Saints Preserve Us

Above, Saturday night's couscous with roasted sweet potato and carrots, and butternut squash pasta with gorgonzola. Below, Toll House cookies, the quickest path between hunger and sweet-toothed bliss.


If any of that sounds at all appetizing, try it out on the night you had planned to go to Saint-Ex.

It'd be way too generous to say that Saint-Ex (1847 14th Street NW) suffers, à la Obama, from unfairly high expectations. It is simply overpriced, overhyped and overrated. I'm not sure why it's so in demand, other then inertia and the long lines created by its frustrating policy of not accepting reservations. It's certainly not the "charming" ambiance. The basement is a shadowy bar; the main level, lacking a coat rack and adequate lighting, gets packed like a rush hour Metrobus. I tried the $36 prix fixe menu, sampling a special tortilla appetizer that showcased chopped, soggy chicken, and an overcooked steak. One of the fish entrees looked enticing, but our Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch app recommended "avoid." I'd say the same about Saint-Ex.