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.

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.

Slow cooking in the Jewelry District

I'm no expert on the Providence barbecue scene. I went to LJ's BBQ once, and I was less than wowed, and not just because it's in a shopping center on the Pawtucket line. (After all, Providence's best Indian restaurant, Rasoi, is next door.) Since then, I haven't even gotten around to trying Wes' Rib House, known mostly for being open until 4 a.m. on weekends, or United BBQ, even though it's a few blocks from my apartment and its delivery vehicle is a hip, little Smart Car.


As of tonight, however, I can say that I have finally hit up Rick’s Roadhouse, at the site of the old Big Fish in the Jewelry District.


It was not life-changing, surely not remarkable enough to set me off replicating the pace of red meat binging I kept up last year while living in Uruguay. But the preposterously large Chicken Grande Nachos appetizer ($9) was tasty and colorful (though the BBQ chicken was more chopped than pulled); the Steak on a Stick skewered, marinated and grilled beef appetizer ($7), served with a homemade bourbon steak sauce, was light and perfectly cooked; and the Texas Beef Brisket & BBQ Pulled Pork plate ($15), served with two sides (I recommend the Cole Slaw and the All World Baked Beans) was super tender and pleasantly sweet.

But don't take my word for any of this. The Providence Journal, my employer, has reviewed all these BBQ joints. Read about Rick's here, United here, LJ's here and Wes' here.

Pregnant cousin, oven roasted tomatoes

I've never really considered making sun-dried tomatoes, and I'm still not sure I will, given how time-consuming the process appears. But it's apparently not a particularly complicated operation. The caterer at a baby shower for my wife's cousin let me in on the recipe for her "oven-roasted" tomatoes. It seems she just halves tomatoes, adds some olive oil and seasoning and roasts them at super low heat for a few hours, flipping them once. Even without any marinating, they were delicious, topped with crumbled feta. (For the record, I wasn't invited to the actual shower, but I sneaked some leftovers the next day.)




Summer Hill Catering, in Madison, CT, also served up lox with dill sauce as a passed hors d'oeuvre. For dessert: intricately constructed, absurdly sugary, double frosted cup cakes from a local pastry chef.

Chayote empanadas

Mostly as an excuse to go to C-Town, the famous Latin grocery in Pawtucket, R.I., we decided to cook up some empanadas, turnovers with a savory filling that resemble the Indian samosa. Though Providence, R.I. has become super Latino in recent years, none of the local supermarkets carry empanada shells. (Surprisingly, even at C-Town, the only shells available were frozen.) For the fillings, we chose canned corn-shredded cheese-sauteed onions and roasted chayotes-roasted eggplant.


For an appetizer, we had Mexican tostada casera from Charras ("El Real Sabor Mexicano") and queso blanco from Wisconsin. Our friend Paco from Buenos Aires brought over a bottle of 2006 Trapiche Broquel Malbec.

C-Town's motto: "El Gigante de Pawtucket!"

Brother Jimmy's BBQ

I've long been a fan of anything pickled and anything fried, so you can imagine my excitement when a friend, David Steinvurzel, recommended I order the "Frickles," with horseradish dipping sauce, to accompany my Samuel Adams Summer Ale at Brother Jimmy's BBQ in New York City. I'm not sure he thought it would specifically go with the beer's promised "background tropical fruit note reminiscent of mangoes and peaches," but it was fantastic advice.


For extra measure, we also ordered the fried okra "Beginning," as Brother Jimmy's calls its appetizers, and we were rewarded with a complimentary, ice cold scorpion bowl with plenty of vodka and sour mix. We found all this fried food and cold drinks at the original Brother Jimmy's at 1485 Second Ave., between 77th and 78th. But there are five other locations in NYC.

Photos by New York photographer Jacob Silberberg.

UPDATE: ABC News reporter Scott Mayerowitz, a former colleague of mine at The Providence Journal and an occasional guest-blogger at my Latin American politics blog, Small State, did some Zagat sleuthing about Brother Jimmy's. Here's what he dug up:

"Young and loud" but "tasty as hell," these "guy-oriented" BBQ joints serve "not-bad" eats to "beer-soaked frat boys" lured in by "cheap" tabs, "fishbowl"-size drinks and "hot little waitresses" flashing "bare midriffs"; in short, "if you're over 30, have it delivered."

CORRECTION: I'm told that the photos were taken by David Steinvurzel, who shoots for specialty foods importer Roland. The camera, a Canon 5D Mark II with a 35/1.4, belongs to Jacob Silberberg.