Strikes no gutters

The wedding favors included a homemade cookbook with a recipe for the couple's favorite spinach, chiptole and lime dip. So for a pre-wedding, Mexican-style lunch on the lively, downtown pedestrian mall in Charlottesville, Va., I followed their recommendations. Sadly, Mono Loco was closed, and so was Cinema Taco. But the huevos rancheros at Bizou offered a soft landing, runny eggs on crunchy tacos crowned by punchy feta.

Closer to home, I've got a few more Darts & Laurels/Strikes & Gutters/"Fillet of Sole, De La Soul, Seoul (that place in Korea)" for you, only in honor of summer, only strikes today.

Strikes:

The portions at Carmine's (425 7th St. NW), in Chinatown, no match in quality to Pasta Mia (1790 Columbia Rd. NW), or Cafe Milano (3000 Whitehaven St. NW), at the Italian Embassy, but enough pasta to feed you for an entire weekend.
 
The girlie but refreshing "Sojutinis" at Mandu (18th/K NW), just $4 during happy hour.

The whole menu at Bar Pilar (1833 14th St. NW), where patrolling for an empty seat gives the meal a real hunter-gatherer vibe.

The fried chicken at Founding Farmers (1924 Pennsylvania Ave. NW), a "Man v. Food" kinda adventure, paired with the obligatory waffles, but also with viscous white gravy and syrup, mac ‘n cheese and Brussels sprouts.

The New Orleans sausages at Creme (1322 U St. NW), an inspired pick-me-up for poached eggs.

The fish taco appetizer at Perry's (1811 Columbia Rd. NW), with guacamole and cabbage, good enough to justify ordering Tex-Mex at that schizophrenic sushi joint.

The name of Ping Pong (900 7th St. NW) (I'm trying to be positive), the oddly popular dim sum restaurant in Chinatown.

Everything at Bodega (3116 M St. NW), in Georgetown, the best small plates I've had in DC, including the "Ensaladilla de Palmitos con Gambas" (hearts of palm, chilled shrimp, avocado and salsa rosa) and the "Dátiles con Tocino" (crispy fried dates wrapped in bacon). Bodega is tastier than the well-meaning Mezè (2437 18th Street NW) in Adams Morgan, with its strange fascination with mojitos, and even the exceptional Bar Pilar. It's so good, in fact, that you don't feel pick-pocketed afterward, the emotional hangover of a meal  at most small plates spots around town, like Agora (1527 17th St. NW) in Dupont.


The kielbasa and cabbage and meat pierogis at the Polish Embassy open house.

The arepas at the Sabor'a food truck.

The goat curry with jollof rice at the Ghana Cafe (1336 14th St. NW), where the fufu is as gloppy, and the groundnut soup as greasy, as tradition demands.

Any appetizer, entree or dessert on offer at Tastebuds (49 W. Ferry St.) in New Hope, Penn., in Bucks County, worth the journey to the Delaware, where all bridges, and Bridge Roads, lead to New Hope.

Chinatown, overachieving

In another installment in an occasional series of Pipón posts about the national Chinatown exceeding its high sodium, low quality expectations, I recommend the Mee Goreng noodles ($14), a "famous Malay–Indo style noodle dish" of stir–fried egg noodles, chicken, scallions and bean sprouts in a curry and peanut sauce, at Asian Spice (717 H. St. NW). Be prepared to fend off (or surrender to) a hard sell for the "Filipino Caramelized Fried Banana" ($6), fried fresh bananas coated in cinnamon and brown sugar and topped with honey and sesame seeds, but keep in mind that the marauding manager will generally be satisfied if you agree to a bowl of the creamy, crunchy, "tropical coconut" ice cream.

Ice fishing for pickled herring

"You don't think there are guys in Nepal who are, like, 'What should I do? Should I carry packs of heavy shit for Westerners to the top of the base camp of Everest? Or should I stay down here in Kathmandu and chant all day and check out chicks and pretend to be holy?' Why is everything cooler when it happens in a foreign country?" - Tao Of Steve

I've realized lately how vulnerable I am to this commonplace traveler's affliction. Particularly when it comes to food. When I was traveling in Southern France and Spain last May, I started wolfing down baguettes filled with  jamón ibérico as if the ingredients were not available at any decent market in DC.

Even less exotic travel can bring on a case of cooler-abroad-itis. I spent New Year's in northern Minnesota, and I would not say an unflattering word about the pickled herring my hosts generously dished out upon my arrival, let alone critique the delightful "stoup" ("soup" + "stew") of patiently simmered pheasant shotgunned by our host the previous fall; the tall stacks of Swedish pancakes at the Maplelag cross country skiing resort; or the "Lowden Zpecial" pizza at Zorbaz in downtown Detroit Lakes, slathered in peanut butter and crowned with pepperoni, jalapeños and cheese. ("Often Imitated, Never Duplicated.") Still, was Maplelag's creamy beef Strogonoff as heavenly as I remember it, or might I have been just a bit hungry from skiing the Sukkerbusk trail? Was the salsa at Juano's, in downtown Fargo, as sublime as it seemed at the time, or was I just overjoyed that the temperature was above freezing when we landed? Were the Knights of Columbus's French toast and breakfast sausages truly a religious experience, or was I just won over by the $3.50 price tag? (For the record, I stand by my awe over the deployment of cabbage in the minestrone at Capisce in Zephyr Cove, Nevada, a casual Italian joint I visited recently near Lake Tahoe that is run by a former Orioles prospect.)

This exercise in reconsideration has me second-guessing my excitement about a variety of recent out-of-town dining, in Boston and Austin (no relation). Specifically, my deep regret over every meal I've had at Baja Fresh in Dupont made me irrationally exuberant about a quick stop at the Anna's Taqueria in Coolidge Corner last October. Meanwhile, DC's underachieving Chinatown made me highly vulnerable to the charming waitress, brightly painted walls and bountiful amuse-bouche at Color, a Korean restaurant in Allston.

Similarly, I might have graded Austin on a curve (though I'm not the only one to be won over by its food scene). The chicken-fried sirloin, topped by creamy gravy, and fried okra at Threadgill's tasted a little less chewy and greasy thanks to the Sunday gospel brunch musical accompaniment and all the quirky memorabilia rescued from the historic Armadillo World Headquarters concert venue that once stood next door in the South Congress neighborhood. The migas and chorizo at Annies Cafe & Bar was a welcome break from an eggs Benedict brunch, but I'll admit I was predisposed to compliment the carne guisada at Guero's Taco Bar after a Texan friend, Grace, promised me that in Austin, "There are TONS of Mexican restaurants. In general they should all be like a 1000x better than anything on the east coast." The Peached Tortilla food truck serves its tacos with crunchy catfish (in a creamy, jalapeño slaw with bacon braised mustard greens) and vietnamese braised pork belly (pickled daikon and carrot salad, Sriracha mayo and cilantro) that puts to shame the local equivalent. But the best sidewalk bratwurst does not hold a candle to any decent choripán in the Southern Cone.

The lesson of all this rambling reconsideration? To show more love for local grub. Like the Heidenberger at the Mad Hatter (1321 Connecticut Ave. NW); the views of Woodley Park from the second floor window seats at Ipoh (2625 Connecticut Ave. NW); the small plates at Zaytinya (701 9th St. NW), good enough to ignore the tragic diversion of extra virgin olive oil into tall vases, and the Jamón Ibérico at Zatinya's sister restaurant, Jaleo (480 7th Street NW), cured ham from acorn-fed, black-footed, Spanish Ibérico pig; the patio at Hank's Oyster Bar (1624 Q St. NW), though I sat indoors on my only visit and somehow was hoodwinked into paying $23 for a lobster roll, more than even the Red Hook Lobster Pound gets away with charging; pretty much anything with raw fish at Raku (1900 Q St. NW); the entire menu at Indique (3518 Connecticut Ave. NW) and Sorriso (3512 Connecticut Ave. NW), which are good enough to convince me to move to Cleveland Park; brunch at Napoleon Bistro (1847 Columbia Rd. NW); dinner at Meskerem (2434 18th St. NW); and even though I was deprived of a partner for the whole fried fish at Bangkok 54 (2919 Columbia pike, Arlington, Va.), I can't hold that against the chef, who eased my pain with some crispy catfish curry and spicy roasted duck.

Public noodling

You're supposed to accept as an article of faith that the 7th Street Chipotle has got the only decent grub in Chinatown. I thought so for a while, after sampling some forgettable tofu at the mediocre (but descriptively named) Kanlaya Thai Cuisine (740 6th St. NW), and spending a few late-nights slurping the hot and sour soup at New Big Wong (610 H St. NW). But thanks to that voyeuristic, siren song, display window exhibition kitchen at Chinatown Express (746 6th St. NW), I can now recommend skipping Fuddruckers the next time you're hungry after a Gallery Place double feature. The fresh, "made on the spot" noodles, fried or in irresistibly gulpable broth, sell for just $6.50.

Where's the beef?

I don't know about you, but good sliders always put me in the mood for an adult-sized hamburger. This was especially true at Farmers & Fishers (3000 K St. NW), in the Georgetown waterfront, the other day, after munching on a pair of baby cheeseburgers assembled with ground-to-order, grass-fed beef, a thin blanket of Tillamook cheddar and a homemade butter bun, and served alongside homemade French fries. So you can imagine my dismay when my "Farmer’s Daughter" burger ($12) arrived (as provocatively named as Tryst) piled high with greens but with no burger in sight. The fact that this surreptitiously vegetarian entree was also missing its promised avocado, and that sliced Havarti was playing the role of the advertised brie, was just insult to injury. The lesson? Order carefully at Farmers & Fishers, or better yet, just stick to its sister restaurant, Founding Fathers (1924 Pennsylvania Ave. NW), because after sampling Farmers & Fishers and its neighbor, Tony and Joe's (3000 K St. NW), I've decided the best strategy for grabbing a meal while gazing at the Potomac River and Kennedy Center is to cook your own dinner and picnic on the promenade.


If you simply must go out to eat, try the double-cooked pork (see photo above) at the Great Wall Szechuan House (1527 14th St. NW), a casual and super cheap Chinese joint that has made it impossible for me to ever return to my trusted Oriental Cafe (1636 R Street NW), also in greater Dupont, where the plastic patio furniture had come to feel like home. If you simply must go out and Great Wall will simply not satisfy your Brewster's Millions spendthriftiness, then I recommend The Afghan Grill (2309 Calvert Street NW), in Adams Morgan, where the Badenjan Chalao ($16), eggplant sautéed with onion, garlic and tomato and served with rice and lamb, may leave you hungry, but also hungering for seconds.

Comfort food, fryalated

From the start, I had a bad attitude about Teak Wood (1323 14th St NW), in Logan Circle. I mean, given the delightful wordplaying at Thai Tanic, just across the street (and in Columbia Heights), and Thaiphoon, in Dupont Circle, I just couldn't imagine that Teak Wood would be all that creative in its menu either. It isn't. But neither is turkey and Brussels sprouts at Thanksgiving dinner.

I learned that lesson the other day when I helped two Canadian friends whip up and serve up poutine (French fries swaddled by brown gravy and topped by cheese curds) and I was chided for calling the dish, a classic Canadian comfort food, a "Montreal delicacy." A year ago, Calvin Trillin, in The New Yorker, wrote about the poutine phenomenon, noting that the dish, invented five decades ago in rural Quebec, may be "gross," disconcertingly squeaky and the go-to snack for late-night bar-hoppers, but it's also irresistible and rightly becoming a "national dish," arguably a bigger cultural force than even canoeing or moose spotting, and potentially an even more iconic Canadian foodstuff than maple syrup and Tim Hortons. (It's already so popular in Quebec that shopkeepers sell bags of cheese curds beside the cash register, and there's a restaurant in Toronto, Smoke's Poutinerie, that concocts 20 varieties of the dish.)

All this is to say that Teak Wood seems to offer a lot of familiar Thai curries, and that's good enough for me.

kg, on a roll

At top, Chinese sesame dumplings filled with cabbage. Below, souffle with smoked Gouda.

Planting cilantro at Monticello

Thomas Jefferson may have favored the French, adding a dome, 13 skylights and a wine dumbwaiter to his  Monticello mansion. But on my visit to Charlottesville, Va., last weekend, I came away most impressed by the Ukrainians, after running into a couple of Ukrainian scientists at a lakeside BBQ and inspecting the ridiculous bounty of mushrooms they had gathered in the nearby woods. And I'll say this, if Jefferson had ever visited the Taste of China (where the kitchen, until recently, was manned by the "mysteriously peripatetic" Peter Chang, profiled in March by Calvin Trillin, who chronicled Chang's career serving up inspiring Chinese eats in uninspiring strip malls in Virginia, Tennessee and Atlanta), he might well have trained his personal chef to cook Szechuan crispy eggplant and cilantro rolls instead of French delicacies. (From the The New Yorker piece, it sounds like Chang's restaurant draws crowds as large as those that used to gather in Jefferson's lobby, decorated with keepsakes from the Lewis and Clark expedition and, unexpectedly, looking a bit like a room in Neruda's house in Valparaíso.)

Other Charlottesville tips: An obligatory stop at Foods of All Nations (check out the Eastern European dips), and an optional visit to the Blue Moon Diner, known for its artisanal bacon.

Soft opening for a soft taco

I'd call it a "dry run," but it was drenched in Sriracha. TaKorean, DC's newest food truck, started selling its Korean fusion tacos ("Korean BBQ with a twist of Mexican style") in Adam's Morgan last night, around 18th St. NW and Columbia, and when I spotted them again tonight, I happily handed over $2.50 for a sample. (I don't know if I should be flattered that they chose my neighborhood for their "soft opening"; it makes me feel both special and small-time.) The Bulgogi steak taco (marbled cuts of beef marinated in a sweet and spicy soy-based sauce) was fresh and delicious, garnished with lively cilantro and sliced radishes.

It might be a good idea that these decidedly not Latino or Korean chefs are still hiding from food bloggers. The "kimchi" that comes standard on their beef, chicken and tofu tacos (all 1 for $2.50, 3 for $7) is distressingly unfermented, and any marinade that may have met the beef is completely subsumed by Sriracha. The entire concept, meanwhile, is unapologetically ripped off from-that-coast-that-brought-you-alfalfa-and-avocado-and-sushi-and-Snoop Dog, and has been long ago hyped on the Food Network and in The New York Times.

Still, the tacos are pretty great, and since the owner seems like a good, charitable guy, it will be bittersweet when this truck is ready for prime time, finding glory downtown and leaving us country, uptown folk behind.

Can Opener

For a minute, I truly contemplated okra tacos. But I flinched, in a moment of lame vegetable aisle wimpiness, and so sweet corn became the taco night headliner. "Sweet corn is an emotional food when you eat it picked fresh from the field, just full of feelings, you just sit and you weep" (A Prairie Home Companion). Perhaps at Lake Wobegon. Here in DC, the most I can say is it sure is cheap and crunchy.
   

Speaking of corn, I was excited to see Open City (2331 Calvert St. NW), the overrated Woodley Park cousin of Adams Morgan's underrated 24-hour Diner (2453 18th St. NW) and Tryst (next door to The Diner) trying to work some magic with creamed corn. You see, creamed corn was a childhood staple in our house, served with Heinz vegetarian baked beans and grated Parmesan. Open City's version? A concocted coconut creamed corn side sold for $3.50 a bowl. I'd hate to hate on the yellowy, gooey, crunchy gruel, since I'm a pretty nostalgic fellow, but I'm going to stick with the Gedan corn-and-beans recipe.

There are a few things that I can recommend. The beer flight at Meridian Pint (3400 11th St. NW, opposite RedRocks); the family style lunch specials at the shadowy Magic Gourd (528 23rd St NW, in Foggy Bottom); everything at Pho 14 (1436 Park Rd. NW, in Columbia Heights), the biggest food bargain in DC, and that's including the deeply discounted Morningstar products at the nearby Target; the happy hour cocktails at Bar Dupont (1500 New Hampshire Av. NW), but only out on the patio; the phoenix roll (shrimp tempura, spicy tuna and avocado) ($12), a nice mix of mushy mashed tuna and crunchy fried shrimp, at Perry's (1811 Columbia Rd. NW, in Adam's Morgan), but only up on the roof; the Texas Burger ($11), slathered with smoky chipotle BBQ sauce and topped by pickles, fried onion straws and coleslaw, but with the upper bun brilliantly held aloft by a toothpick, keeping it blissfully unsoggy, served alongside gimmicky but tasty Tater Tots, at Tonic (2036 G St. NW, in Foggy Bottom); and finally, arguably the best meal in South Dupont Circle (other than the once-a-year free burgers and hot dogs and pizza served up in the Circle by the DC police), the barbacoa burrito at Tomatillo Taqueria, the Mexican takeout lunch stand at The Big Hunt (1347 Connecticut Ave. NW), served best with the spicy tomatillo sauce, fresh pico de gallo and guacamole (it's an extra $1 for the avocado) and sauteed onions, but it's cash only and closed from August 9-13.

NBW

I gave Cashion's Eat Place (1819 Columbia Road NW) a hard time recently for its awkward name (it sounds like it was "poorly translated from Japanese," I wrote). So it's only fair I mention two other marketing missteps I've also encountered around town: New Big Wong (610 H St. NW) in Chinatown, where the 5 a.m. closing time (on weekends) and the tasty $1.75 hot and sour soup do not begin to make up for the sexual innuendo; and Moby Dick's House of Kabob (1300 Connecticut Ave. NW) in Dupont Circle, which has 14 other locations that all carry the same inexplicable non sequitur.

Please pass the Colonel Mustard

I'm hardly a Super Bowl traditionalist. (I only learned who was playing on Friday on line at the Safeway on Columbia Road when I asked the woman in front of me whether she considered a jar of cocktail onions a key part of her pre-storm food supplies.) Still, I was surprised to hear that my friend Rob Margetta, of Congressional Quarterly fame, was planning to make tacos for his Super Bowl party, provided he could hire a "dog sled team" to transport him from Alexandria. From a native of Fall River, Mass., I would've expected fried chicken, cold cuts and sour cream and onion dip.




The menu sounded similarly atypical at Julia Schiff's Super Bowl gathering in Adam's Morgan, highlighted by homemade pork and beansprout Thai egg rolls, made by Art Jirut, whose love for Kuan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy and Compassion, means she just-says-no to beef.


In a nod to more standard Super Bowl fare, however, Art also whipped up (in addition to a pistachio cake) a pot of turkey chili with scallions, kidney beans and Fritos. The hostess, meanwhile, balled some peanut butter and dipped it delicately in chocolate, and also sprinkled Americana throughout her sitting room, including a hard cover copy of David McCullough's 1776, published volumes of her father's photographs of Cincinnati and even a DVD of the 1985 movie Clue, an American classic even if Wadsworth does have a British accent.

UPDATE: My old roommate, Brian Chelcun, reminded me that the peanut butter treats are called "buckeyes," an Ohio specialty apparently designed to resemble the nut of an Ohio Buckeye tree.

Slurping away Snowmageddon

Given the 25.5 inches of snow in Washington, President Obama's warnings of "Snowmageddon," Amtrak's "widespread cancellations," the shutdown of all runways at BWI, Dulles and Reagan National, the promise from The Washington Post that its "list of what's open" would include "mostly grocery and CVS stores," and the Post's Going Out Guide's warning that "cancellations are piling up like snow," I was pleasantly surprised to see how many restaurants on 18th St. in Adam's Morgan and along U Street were open today.


As you can tell, after failing to secure a table at L'Enfant (2000 18th St NW), we ended up at DC Noodles (1410 U St. NW), where the $12 noodles in soy soup (I ordered mine with beef and wide noodles) helped defrost all but my damp and frigid toes.

Greater U Street

Breakfast: Busboys and Poets (2021 14th St. NW). I ordered the Mahi Mahi, blackened with a lemon-pepper aioli and served with sweet potato fries ($10), and sampled the Sweet Fuji Apple sandwich ($7.50), served with Gorgonzola and a fig spread on walnut raisin bread. The OJ is freshly squeezed.

Lunch: DC Noodles (1410 U St. NW). I ordered the "noodles in spicy soup" ($12), served with ground peanuts, chili pepper, bean sprouts, carrots, cilantro, spring onion and my choice of noodle (I had the wide variety) and "meat" (I had the tofu, hence the quotation marks).

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.

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).

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.

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.

Double (veggie) burger

It's not that I felt guilty munching on my salmon-and-scallion and tuna-and-avocado maki rolls at Spices (3333 Connecticut Ave. NW, in Cleveland Park) alongside a handful of MHS alumni (and a lawyer from Chicago who got ticketed recently for "colliding" after he rearended an unmarked police cruiser and then chose not to dispute the unusual violation because, he explained, "you don't tug on Superman's cape"). I even got a strange thrill watching a waiter carve a small, roasted duck at a nearby table. But I was also inspired by the dogged vegetarianism of two dining companions, Alex and Emily, who interrogated our server to make sure their vegetables would not even smell like fish. So in their honor, I sauteed four Morningstar veggie burgers for dinner, tossed them on two toasted, sesame rolls and topped them with sauteed onions, Dijon mustard and Sriracha hot chili sauce. (If you're wondering, that glistening is not a photographic anomaly, but rather evidence that I poured way too much olive oil into the wok.)