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.

Nexus of the universe

I realized that the Times's potato leek gratin and The Argula Files's tortilla española had virtually the same ingredients, and that revelation gave me a taste of the serendipitous thrill Kramer experiences when he ventures to Lower Manhattan. "Hey, I'm on First and First. How can the same street intersect with itself? I must be at the nexus of the universe!"

Above, roasted eggplant and red pepper with melted Gruyere and locally pickled vegetables from Delicias Market (3702 14th St. NW, by Spring Rd.) on a toasted baguette. Below, Kramer.

Sweet Tomatos®

Improvising from a recent Food Wanderings original (improvising = cutting out "expensive" ingredients like arugula and avocados), I roasted some late-season cherry tomatoes, eggplant and garlic, and served it in an open-faced sandwich with kalamatas, fresh mozzarella and Olde Cape Cod honey mustard. Delicious, though next time, I might just save up for the avocado, or at least a goat cheese log.

New Jack Hustler

To clean up a sizable Pipón backlog, I say a few more Darts & Laurels (h/t to CJR) are in order.

Laurels:

The salmon tartare at Poste (555 8th St. NW), served in an ice cream cone, over crème fraiche, is so inventive and refreshing (and the Summer Selection of Farmstead Cheese, with thinly cut raisin-walnut toast is so lovingly assembled) that I have forgotten all about the whole mustard-ice-cream-in-the-gazpacho incident.

The remarkable beer list, scrumptious fries (with a highly recommendable chipotle mayo dip) and general just-hip-enough vibe at Granville Moore’s (1238 H St. NW) more than make up for the eye-popping price tag on the humble bison burger.

The traditional triumvirate in New Orleans: beignets at Cafe Du Monde (see photo), the red beans and rice at Mother's (see photo of hot sauces), and the Bananas Foster at Brennan's, a highly unoriginal, yet hard to resist culinary itinerary.


Darts:

The supremely lame, albeit understandable, no Wi-Fi on weekends policy at Tryst (2459 18th St. NW), from the same penny-pinching philosophy that leads Chef Geoff's (1301 Pennsylvania Ave. NW) to corral its happy hour crowd in a cramped quadrant by the bar.

The general laziness at Dos Gringos (3116 Mount Pleasant St. NW), a self-consciously quirky lunch spot that never offers Wi-Fi (social engineering), regularly runs out of ingredients (a supposed sign of freshness), and uses the microwave like it's going out of style. 

Red faced, not from the marinara

As if my unsophisticated palate, low food budget and amateur cooking skills did not make me insecure enough about publishing Pipón, I heard a great Marketplace segment the other day about the "food paparazzi" and the restaurateurs who, er, do not exactly love them. (Apparently, we food bloggers are famous for publishing photos that are "under-exposed, or taken mid-meal, bite marks and all" and for critiquing food "without really knowing what they're talking about.") And yet, here I go again, with a few Darts & Laurels (h/t to CJR) for some Washington restaurants.


Laurels

The toppings at The Pita Pit (616 23rd St. NW), in Foggy Bottom, including feta, avocado and tzatziki sauce.
Pretty much everything at the Thornton River Grille, in Sperryville, Va., in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, just off the Shenandoah National Park's Skyline Drive, one of the best thought-I'd-come-to-a-greasy-spoon surprises I've ever encountered, where the eggs benedict is served on a homemade baguette, the vegetable omelet special (there it is above) involves, count 'em, five eggs and all dishes get a pick-me-up of fresh fruit and the option of a few drops of the local pepper sauce, Chileman's.
The name (I didn't actually try the food, since the beer alone is bankrupting) of The Star and The Shamrock (1341 H St. NE), an Irish-Jewish pub.
The sauteed beef and onions at El Rincon Espanol (1826 Columbia Rd. NW) in Adams Snorgan (any chance that will catch on?), so tender you (almost, sometimes, when the door is mercifully closed) forget about the booming nightclub upstairs.




The "Sloppiest Joe" ($13) at Ted's Bulletin (505 8th St. SE) (see it above), part of the cloying home-style trend but way more exciting than an overpriced grilled cheese, so much so that it makes up for the poor service at this new restaurant and its odd decision to write "Breakfast Anytime" in large letters on the menu, followed by a small print advisory, "coming soon, we'll keep you posted." On the other hand, the $3 homemade strawberry pop tarts (see one below) are already on offer, as are a great $4 side of blue cheese Brussels sprouts (see one above) and TVs playing classics such as The Wizard of Oz and Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Finally, Laurels for the sliders at Bar Dupont (1500 New Hampshire Av. NW); the Five Guys at Nationals Park, where they do inflate the price a bit but still honor their all toppings free pledge (including the grilled onions, grilled mushrooms and jalapeno peppers); and the $12 "Tacos de Borrego" (slow roasted lamb with garlic and Oaxacan peppers) at Casa Oaxaca (2106 18th St. NW) in Adams Snorgan, where the menu inspires so much confidence, in its refreshingly small size and multicolored mole offerings, that I might actually one day, given enough mezcal, try the "Cazuela de Chapulines," the Oaxacan cheese fondu and grasshoppers appetizer.





Darts

The burgers (see one above) at Nellie's (900 U St. NW) are no joke, with free caramelized onions and only a $1 charge for blue cheese. Still, given the $10 price tag, you'd think they could afford to serve their mimosas in something other than a plastic cup.
The large chili con carne ($5.40) at Ben's Chili Bowl (1213 U St. NW) is good, no doubt, but it does not quite live up to the hype, or the description "large" for that matter. (Why does criticizing Ben's feel like blaspheme and a culinary conventional wisdom echo chamber at the same time?)

Toledo

As I explore the DC food scene, there are a few mysteries I cannot yet unravel:

1. Why do so many Chinese fast food joints serve subs?
2. Why do so many Mexican restaurants, including the highly regarded but surprisingly high-priced Mixtec (1792 Columbia Rd. NW), serve waffles?
3. Why do so many people wait for so long to eat at Pasta Mia (1790 Columbia Rd. NW)? (My best guess: crack in the marinara.)

While I dig into these eccentricities, here are a few things I have figured out over the past few days:

1.  El Tamarindo (1785 Florida Ave. NW) is now abierto las 24 on weekends, joining The Diner (2453 18th St. NW) as an Adams Morgan source of decent late-night eats.
2. On Wednesdays, the grimy but hip Toledo Lounge (2435 18th St. NW) serves up mediocre but cheap grilled cheese sandwiches ($3.50) and $2 draft beer. (It appears likely that the cheese in the grilled cheese, Toledo's top seller, comes to the bar pre-sliced and individually plastic wrapped, if you know what I mean. But the bread is nicely buttered and browned, and the onion rings are fat and 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.

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.

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.

Tiny hot dog buns

I have had neither the time nor disposable income to explore the D.C. restaurant scene, not even the Latin restaurants that line 14th Street by my apartment. (A few exceptions: I've grown to accept Baja Fresh as a serviceable substitute for Chipotle; I was unmoved by La Frontera Cantina, a small Mexican restaurant with pleasant outdoor seating and homemade tortilla chips on 17th Street, by Dupont Circle; I was pleased to find the biodegradable entrees and packaging at Sweet Green, on Connecticut, only slightly overpriced, the mix-your-own greens salad selling for $6; and I enjoyed the curry peanut sauce at Bua, a Thai restaurant on P Street, between 16th and 17th.)

Lately, however, I have managed some good eating, mostly thanks to visits from my wife and in-laws. Outings included a scallops feast during a Bethesda Restaurant Week trip to Grapeseed; an Ethiopian lunch on U Street, around 10th; and a banquet at Founding Fathers, on Pennsylvania Avenue by the IMF, where we ordered, as appetizers, the cornmeal battered fried green tomatoes with herb goat cheese and homemade "green goddess dressing," the homemade potato and cheddar cheese crisps with onion dip and a pimento spread, and the grilled oysters with homemade BBQ sauce (afterward, I meekly attempted to conquer the "Farmhouse Mixed Grill," made up of pork ribs, "Barackwurst" sausage and fried chicken, served alongside watermelon and coleslaw).


All delicious, but I was ready for some home, vegetarian cooking. So the next day, we stopped by Whole Foods and then Keryn whipped up a refreshing salad, with fresh mozzarella, local heirloom tomatoes and arugula.


She also boiled up some, er, I think it's called "Casarecce" (a pasta shaped like "tiny hot dog buns"), with a medley of sauteed mushrooms and Parmesan.

Wisconsin

You know your roommate is from Wisconsin when he gets back from a business trip to his home state and you find bags of cheese curds all over the kitchen counter.