Breakfast + lunch

I wish we'd had the time to linger at Peg's Glorified Ham N Eggs, a brunch hotspot a few blocks from the riverside promenade in Reno's otherwise tumbledown downtown, because my favorite thing about the restaurant are the giant, circular metal trays that play the part of plates. But even after a few minutes at the counter and a to-go order of Peg's Glorified Huevos Rancheros ($9), served with hash browns, a black bean and corn salsa, a cabbage slaw (vinegar, not mayo), fresh pinto beans and warm tortillas, Peg's earned a spot on my go-to, best-of brunch list. (After breakfast adventure? J.R. Johns and his dog Skippy climbing ropes at the casino and indoor carnival at the Circus Circus hotel.)

Peg's in good company. Sound Bites (Somerville, Mass.). Olga's Cup and Saucer (Providence), the Brickway (Providence) and Modern Diner (Pawtucket, RI). Threadgill's (Austin). Loveless Motel Cafe (Nashville). Mother's (New Orleans). Thornton River Grille (Sperryville, Va.). Breadmen's (Chapel Hill, North Carolina). O'Rourke's Diner (Middletown, Conn.).

Animal Boy

Between "Super Size Me," "Food Inc." and "King Corn," and Matt the Electrician's ode to the homegrown ("My ancestors grew something/Real food is all I know/We’re gonna grow a little boy/Just like 100 years ago"), I feel a little guilty (like the gnawing, "McStomach" feeling "Super Size Me" groans about) whenever I Piponerate only about eating out.







So here are few pizzas, including a pie with brie and orange bell peppers, and other treats we've been whipping up lately, like roasted kale chips and curried fingerlings with melted havarti, and Dark 'n' Stormy cocktails and fried mashed potatoes (Somerville, Mass.-Sound Bites style), with great help from our Radix Farm farmshare; from another of Tanya's beloved South African BBQs; and from my friend Art Jirut, whose Iron Chef competition last Sunday inspired an eggplant loaf (served alongside vanilla bean ice cream and crushed walnuts); eggplant tempura; sauteed eggplant polenta with sausages; eggplant and yellow squash tacos (sprinkled with turmeric and slathered in fresh mint raita); pureed eggplant bruschetta; and stuffed chicken breasts with diced eggplant, couscous, sundried tomatoes and capers.

¡Creepy crawlers!

I thought I was courageous when I braved lunch lakeside at Honduras's Lago de Yojoa, a beautiful body of water where the fresh catch is said to be seasoned by heavy metals. (I was not brave enough for the pescado entero, however, so the fish you see below, beside the fried plantains, was picked clean by my driver and lunch companion.)

The real fearless eater? My buddy Nicole Firment, who crunched on some cucarachas (grasshoppers, actually) in Mexico in December. Photo (above) and video (below) by Julia Oliver.



Looking for bugs closer to home? I remember that La Laiterie, in Providence's Wayland Square, used to serve up some insects every Halloween.

For still creative but not creepy-crawly fare, I recommend the "lamb slider trio" ($18), with curry and coconut organic lamb, lime yogurt crème and rosemary and Parmesan fries, paired with any dessert, at Co Co. Sala (929 F St. NW) in DC's Chinatown, and the Cascade Cafe (6th/Constitution NW) in the National Gallery of Art (10 percent discount for federal employees, free view of the cascade waterfall for all comers). Avoid maoz (1817 M Street NW), in Dupont, where the grammatical errors in the mission statement hint at the carelessness in the food preparation. Amsterdam Falafelshop (2425 18th Street NW), in Adams Morgan, and even the Old City Cafe (1773 Columbia Rd. NW) and Shawarma King (1654 Columbia Rd. NW), are better options.

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.

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.

Bossa no thanks

Maybe my expectations were too high, since I thought picanha was so good it'd be tasty even run over by a bullet train. But it turns out, the best thing The Grill From Ipanema (1858 Columbia Rd. NW, in Adams Morgan) has on the menu is its clever name. The caipirinhas ($7.50) are poured too short, the picanha ($21) is cooked too long, the onions in the linguiça a palito ($10), mixed in with the spicy sliced sausage, are basically raw, the black beans are practically unseasoned and the farofa, ground yuca roasted with garlic and butter, looks like a flavor-packed S. Asian spice, but tastes like pencil shavings.

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.

Under my skin

It was no cod sperm or squirming, "freshly dismembered octopus," nothing that would impress New York City's "Gastronauts." But I'd say dinner last night at "El Pollo Rico" (932 N. Kenmore St., Arlington) was equal parts developing world deliriousness and first world deliciousness. This is not the haute Peruvian eats you've been hearing about lately on Pipón. "El Pollo Rico" (I love its inexplicable, but very Latin American, use of quotes) is about as simple an operation as the sidewalk fried chicken stand I fell in love with in Ghana a few years ago: there's just rows of chickens rotating on several charcoal rotisserie ovens and an assembly line at the long counter, including a man armed with a meat clever ready to quarter or halve your chicken, another ladling out the two sides (fries and coleslaw) and a third handing over the two sauces (a yellowy mayo and a pureed green chili sauce that go great together). You can order white or dark meat, and both come superbly spiced (beneath the skin). There is a stream of grease in the parking lot, a drab facade and a line out the door. As someone put it on Yelp, "El Pool Rico" has "all of the elements of a great hole in the wall. It's dirt cheap, it's got kind of awful atmosphere, and it's cash only!"


Unrelated, but perhaps of interest: I was eying the osso buco (braised veal shanks) at Cesco Trattoria (4871 Cordell Ave., Bethesda) the other day and I wondered (aloud, unfortunately) why the dish included gremolata. I was curious only because I was convinced gremolata was some kind of Italian ice cream. Woops. It's actually a "garnish made of minced parsley, lemon peel and garlic," an Italian chimichurri, and it is a traditional ingredient in osso buco.

Alpaca on a plate

Intrepid Pipón correspondent Julia Oliver, self-portrait virtuoso, summited Machu Picchu the other day, hunting alpaca with a bow and arrow for lunch. I exaggerate. But after "eating my way through Lima," Oliver did survive a train derailment aboard Perurail to get to Cuzco, where she climbed to some Inca ruins and worked up an appetite for bacon-wrapped alpaca loin, topped with chimichurri and accompanied by mashed sweet potatoes.




Photos, including the passion fruit close-up below, by Julie Julia Oliver. More images of Peru's delicias culinarias here.


UPDATE: Megalomanical Me somehow missed the "copy" Ms. Oliver submitted with her great Peruvian photography. Here it is: "Alpaca are ubiquitous in the highlands of central Peru. They are employed not only as producers of soft, warm sweater material, but also as tourist gimmicks -- bait for a propina -- and gardeners to the Incan gods. This alpaca loin wrapped in bacon and drizzled with a salty chimichurri sauce is set off nicely by the sweet potato puree. Prepared by the Tree House, a charming and rustic restaurant high on a hill below Machu Picchu, this rendition was sampled with a glass of Peruvian red wine -- not the sweet stuff, but a dry Tabernero malbec. It was the perfect end to a mist-shrouded hike overlooking Peru's maravilla del mundo."

En brodo

I owe Pipón capsule reviews of a handful of restaurants we've visited lately, including El Rincón Español (1826 Columbia Rd. NW), a great tapas joint in Adams Morgan; Mama Ayesha's (1967 Calvert St. NW), a popular Middle Eastern restaurant in Woodley Park; and Thaiphoon (2011 S St. NW), a mediocre local Thai chain that competes with Thaitanic (locations in Columbia Heights and Logan Circle) for the most clever Thai pun. (kg has promised some penitent guest blogging after ditching me for great meals at The Diner (2453 18th St. NW), run 24 hours a day by the good people at Tryst, and Volt (228 N. Market St., Frederick, Md), that most talked about of Frederick attractions.)

In the meantime, we've done a bit of cooking. Above, my new 30 Minute Meal, cheese tortellini, sauteed mushrooms and onions and baby spinach served in vegetable broth (en brodo) instead of red sauce.


To get people to drink some wine with us up on the roof, our Argentine friend Lara mashed up some gnocchi and kg whipped up some crème brûlée. Below, proof that Lara has not become too American to make make gnocchi, at least on the 29th, and kg's newest pizza eccentricity, toppings underneath.

Dupont's edible esoterica

I'm proud to say ("proud" might be overstating it) that I've now lunched at Dupont Circle's two worst-kept secrets: The Well Dressed Burrito (1220 19th St. NW) and the Brookings Institution cafeteria (1775 Massachusetts Ave. NW). Both are vaguely hidden, a la the nightclubs featured in Swingers. The Well Dressed Burrito serves up its large, marinated beef burritos ($6.50), using actual pulled meat instead of cheap ground beef, in an alleyway; the Brookings Institution cafeteria is, you guessed it, inside the Brookings Institution.


Neither, however, is truly obscure. The Brookings lunch experience, for example, has been deconstructed on Yelp, where one reviewer judged its food to be "just like its politics," that is, "middle of the road." As for The Well Dressed Burrito, here's a Pipón tip: the staff must be used to regulars since they neglected to remind me that the burrito "platter" is just $1 extra and includes homemade enchilada sauce, beans, Southwestern rice and some greens; when I visited, I was so busy dissuading my friend Lauren Miller from ordering a salad that I missed the listing on the menu.

If you want to eat somewhere truly "off the beaten path," try my sister-in-law Marni's garden-level apartment, where I tried the turkey meatballs and Israeli couscous and roasted broccoli the other day.

Burrito photography by Lauren Miller.

'Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice'

Is this the recipe for the inescapable, greasy and scrumptious choripán found at every intersection and outdoor market in Montevideo?

"Food beyond compare, food beyond belief, mix in the mincer and pretend it's beef. Kidney of horse, liver of a cat, filing up the sausages with this and that." - Les Misérables

Don't Panic

Chipotle may just be the most lovable of big, corporate restaurant chains. First, there's its above-average burritos and salsas, including roasted chili-corn. Then there's the super interactive Web site. Next comes its unexpectedly substantial attempts at sustainability, including buying meat from farms that favor "old-fashioned animal husbandry" over mega-industrial efficiency. That means, for example, that Chipotle's pork comes from pasture-raised, antibiotics-free pigs fattened up on purely vegetarian feed. In fact, Chipotle even helps promote Food Inc., a disturbing documentary about U.S. agribusinesses that does not exactly leave you with a big appetite. My new favorite Chipotle quirk: the sign on its closed Chinatown shop reads, "Don't Panic. We are closed for remodel construction. Order will restored to the universe in a few weeks." Apparently, "Don't Panic" (all caps but without an exclamation point) is a corporate slogan. During a big snow storm, one Chipotle shop that locked up early put up a "Don't Panic" banner that urged disappointed customers to "wander around the block or just loiter here on the sidewalk."

Belgium to the left of me, Belgium to the right

In Adams Morgan, there's L'Enfant Café & Bar (2000 18th St NW) and its expensive Belgian beers on one side of 18th and there's Locolat Café (1781 Florida Avenue NW) and its expensive Belgian chocolates on the other side. Here it's clear, I suppose, why a chicken would cross the road. It's also clear that now and again, you'll want a break from Belgium. If that day comes, there's no need to leave the intersection (or settle for a giant slice of pizza). Instead, try El Tamarindo (1785 Florida Ave. NW), a Salvadoran/Mexican joint with funky, original art (for sale), a long list of margaritas, refreshingly fresh salsa and tortilla chips and tasty, though generally uninspired, specialties such as "Carne a la Parrilla" ($12), grilled tenderloin topped with ranchera sauce and served with rice and refried beans. Compared to other Latin food joints I've sampled around Washington, I'd say it's far superior to La Frontera Cantina (1633 17th St. NW) in Dupont, but less authentic than Taqueria Distrito Federal (3463 14th St. NW) in Columbia Heights and El Paraiso (1916 14th St. NW) by U Street.

I was less impressed by a recent dinner at Medaterra (2614 Connecticut Ave. NW) in Woodley Park, where I met up with a few cousins the other day for a Happy Hour appetizer feast. We sampled sausage and eggplant, hummus and falafel. Not very memorable.

Cafe Salsa

Cafe Salsa (1712 14th St. NW), bites off a lot, promising a "nuevo Latino cuisine" that is "inspired by the diversity of Cuba, Puerto Rico, Caribbean and South American culture" (emphasis added). After an admittedly small sampling, I'd say it generally pulls it off. The complimentary, fried, Asian-style noodles and Provençal -style tapenade make for a strange starting note. But Cafe Salsa shines when it counts, as with the ropa vieja and the bistec with sauteed onions.

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.

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.

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.

Red cabbage recommended

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