Requiem for a city

I've been trying to write this post for days. And the words won't come. How best to pay tribute to the city I love on the anniversary of the natural and political disaster that changed it forever? How best to evoke the place, its lyrical sound, its spicy flavor, its sassy people, its aura of home? Should I write with hope for the future, bitterness and anger about the failures of a year ago, or sadness for the city that will no longer be?

Photo by Thomas Neff

Maybe I should write of the innumerable meals I enjoyed in that city, some in places that are once again open for business, others in places that may never welcome another guest. Or perhaps I should write of the heartwarming outpouring of support by chefs and restaurants throughout the country a year ago, and again now.



But really, Louis Armstrong said it best:

Do you know what it means
to miss New Orleans
And miss it each night and day
I know I’m not wrong...
this feeling’s gettin’ stronger
The longer I stay away
Miss them moss covered vines...
the tall sugar pines
Where mockin’ birds used to sing
And I’d like to see that lazy Mississippi... hurryin’ into spring

Restaurants for Relief 2

If you're dining out this week, you have an opportunity not only to eat well, but also to do good.

Consider dining out on Tuesday, August 29, the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's devastating tear through the Gulf region. And consider one of the many area restaurants participating in Share our Strength's Restaurants for Relief 2, including Louisiana-inspired Acadiana Restaurant and Ruth's Chris Steak House, founded in New Orleans.

Participating restaurants nationwide will contribute a portion of their proceeds from Tuesday's sales to hurricane recovery efforts throughout the Gulf region, including rebuilding school cafeterias and providing assistance to affected restaurant workers.

It's about the people, Part IV

It's only fitting that I should say farewell to my friend G, as he moves across the country, in the same way we became friends five years ago -- over food.

G's not one of my "food friends" -- he and I share common roots (southerners born and bred!), went to the same law school, and have worked together for a large part of our careers. (If I didn't know better, I'd worry that I might pick up and move across the country in the next year or two, just to keep our streak of things in common going.) But what cemented our friendship wasn't any of these things, it was our very first conversation, almost exactly five years ago.

I had just moved to Lafayette, Louisiana, to spend a year clerking for a judge. I was replacing G, and he and I had a few days of overlap for him to show me the ropes. But after a few minutes of learning the ins and outs of the computer system, and how the judge runs his chambers, I had to ask the important question: where can I get good food down here?

G's quickness to answer, and the enthusiasm with which he made so many suggestions, told me I had found a friend. Did I want Thai food? Skip the locals' favorite, and go to Mae Sone Noodle House, the tiny hole-in-the-wall run by an immigrant family. Middle Eastern? Try Cedar Grocery, the carry-out/grocery within walking distance of the courthouse. Biscuits? Check. Meat and three? Check. Po-boys? Olde Tyme Grocery makes the best ones in town, if not in the whole state. Anyone who could rattle off this many varied suggestions (in a small town not known for its culinary variety) was a winner in my book.

So when G suggested I join the group heading to dinner the next night at what he termed one of the best restaurants in the area, I accepted without hesitation. And thus, over barbecued shrimp, crawfish cornbread, gumbo, and etouffee (not to mention a tasty slice of chocolate pecan pie), a friendship was born.

During my year in Lafayette, I'd call G for restaurant suggestions throughout southern Louisiana, as I explored the region. He'd give them, and express jealousy at the good meals he was missing. When I moved to DC, we shared our favorite food finds here... and regularly reminisced about our Lafayette favorites.

So this week, I guess it was only fitting that we bid him farewell over soju, kimchi, mandoo and bulgogi at Han Sung Oak, home of some of the best Korean food I've had outside of Korea.

And as I told G the next day, the one good thing about him moving to Phoenix is that I now have another city in which I can eat well when I visit!

Mae Sone Noodle House
4807 Johnston Street
Lafayette, LA
337-406-0850

Cedar Grocery
1115 Jefferson Street
Lafayette, LA
337-233-5460

Edie's
1895 W. Pinhook Road
Lafayette, LA
337-234-2485

Dwyer's Cafe
323 Jefferson Street
Lafayette, LA
337-235-9364

Olde Tyme Grocery
218 W. St. Mary Boulevard
Lafayette, LA
337-235-8165

Cafe des Amis
140 E. Bridge Street
Breaux Bridge, LA
337-332-5273

Han Sung Oak
6341 Columbia Pike
Falls Church, VA
703-642-0808

DC restaurants play musical chairs, Kliman reports

In today's chog, Todd Kliman gave us a few more tidbits on the supposed upcoming Palena move to the Westinghouse Mansion in Dupont.

Plans for that project continue apace; I’m hearing that the new space is going to include a café and shop on the first floor, a restaurant on the second, and offices on the third.

He also gave downtown denizens the bad news that Galileo will be spending a year in Crystal City:

The latest buzz is that Galileo will be vacating its outdated, dimly-lit space in early September for a year while its building undergoes renovation …

… and setting up shop in Crystal City …

… in the space currently occupied by [restaurant I am not currrently at liberty to divulge] …

… which is apparently eyeing the space being vacated by Andale, which closed last week.

What this means to me is, I've got to be sure to get to this week's Galileo Grill -- offered Wednesday and Thursday -- because the shlep to Virginia won't be happening once they relocate.

Oh, and if intel about [restaurant Todd is not currently at liberty to divulge] is correct, Gallery Place would indeed become a mecca for a certain local chef, who would have a number of places within blocks... Keep an eye on this spot for updates.

Bistro at Restaurant Eve

I think I'm in love.

And, much to my mother's chagrin, it's not with a nice young man.

But I think she'll understand, because she was with me the night I was swept off of my feet by the atmosphere, food, and service that combine to make up the Bistro at Restaurant Eve. (And I think she may have fallen a little bit in love as well. I won't tell Dad.)

We weren't celebrating anything other than being together, but from the moment we walked through the door we felt as if we were being welcomed into Meshelle and Cathal Armstrong's home for a special occasion dinner. Warmly greeted at the door, we were escorted past the bustling kitchen, peeked into the gorgeous Tasting Room, and were delivered to our table in the cozy and comforting Bistro.

And that was merely the beginning of the exquisite care we were shown throughout the night. From General Manager and Sommelier Todd Thrasher's recommendation of a bottle of 2002 Catena Alta malbec, to his identification of the greens we were curious about that accompanied Dad's escolar, to his provision of a bowl for the shells from Mom's prawn dish (and his replacement of that bowl midway through the meal, when it was full); from the care he took in ironing the tablecloth at an empty table nearby, to his enthusiastic dessert recommendation (that we didn't take) -- it was clear that he loves this place, and shares the Armstrongs' commitment to creating a welcoming and comfortable place for people to enjoy a delightful evening.

But as nice as that is, the Bistro would not have stolen my heart, were it not for the amazing food coming out of Chef Armstrong's kitchen. And oh, was it amazing. To start, we enjoyed a variety of tomatoes (including sungolds, my new absolute favorite, they scream SUMMER!, bursting with sweet juicy tomatoey flavor in our mouths) with mozzarella, and basil fresh from the garden. We also tried the crabcakes, a dish my mom makes a point of sampling during her summer visits to DC (as they are far better here than in the locales further south where she spends most of her time). We were all duly impressed with the meaty version offered here, served with a slightly spicy remoulade sauce.

And those tastes were a mere hint of the delights that were to come. Mom's prawn risotto had a depth of flavor I didn't expect, and was so good that when I leaned across the table for a second bite, I was shooed away with the words "you've already had your taste." (Huh? Who ever heard of a mother withholding food from her daughter?!) This dish is not for the squeamish, as the prawns are served head-on, but this didn't faze us one bit. (The three of us have a combined seventy years of living in Louisiana under our belts -- it'll take more than a few shrimp heads to raise our eyebrows...)

I had Chef Armstrong's take on my favorite summer combination -- duck and peaches. But the version at the Bistro was unlike any I had sampled before, because it introduced me to what I've now decided is the best kind of peach for this dish. A Muscovy duck breast was served with slightly sweet pearl onions, slightly bitter chard, and the piece de resistance, a sweeter-than-sweet, peachier-than-peachy donut peach. My only complaint? That there weren't more of these delicious peaches on the plate for me to enjoy. (The serving was perfect for normal folks, it's just that I'm a bit of a glutton for peaches.)

But the dish that really showcased Chef Armstrong's talents, and made it clear to me why he was featured as one of Food and Wine's Best New Chefs, was Dad's escolar served with beets and a lemon vinaigrette, over a bounty of greens. Although the fish was cooked perfectly and melted in our mouths, it was the greens that made the dish -- each bite was different, and delicious. In one forkful, you noticed the mint; in another, the baby cilantro; in a third the pea tendrils. The flavors not only complemented each other, but also worked well individually, so every bite was divine, a bouquet of fresh verdant flavor in our mouths. (Yes, Dad let me have more than one bite.)

By the time dessert rolled around, Mom was back in a sharing mood, and we enjoyed a warm blueberry cake with a possibly-too-precious dollop of coffee foam, and the kitchen's interpretation of a s'more -- oh-so-rich chocolate ganache, house-made chocolate ice cream, and a house-made marshmallow. Delicious, but when I return I'm trying Todd's recommended crema fritta, or the pink-iced birthday cake I saw heading to a nearby table.

Perhaps someday I'll make Mom happy by falling in love with a nice young man again. But for now, I'm delightedly looking forward to my next date with the Bistro at Restaurant Eve.

Restaurant Eve
110 South Pitt Street
Alexandria, VA
703-706-0450

It's about the people, Part III

Who would've thought that food would serve to remind me that I'm smart?

I used to know I was smart. As smart as anyone else out there. Maybe smarter, even.

Then I went to law school. At a place full of really smart people. And for the first time, I questioned my smarts. Nothing was coming as easily any more. I had to work hard, really hard, just to keep up. But I did work hard, and I did keep up. And I graduated, believing even more that I was smart, as smart as anyone else out there -- because now I had faced a real challenge, and succeeded.

A few years as an associate at BigLawFirm, though, rid me of that knowledge. A combination of factors (analyzed well in this article) chased me out of BigLawFirm, and (fortunately) into a far more satisfying legal career. But they also left me feeling as if I wasn't smart enough to cut it in BigLaw. As someone else expressed it, “It affects your self-esteem. You start wondering if you are not a good lawyer. You internalize it.”

And internalize it I did. I questioned my abilities as a lawyer, and, by extension, my intellect. I grew tentative to voice my legal theories, doubting their soundness. My confidence was shaken, and the years between myself and my BigLawFirm life weren't enough to rebuild it.

But sharing a bottle of wine with some food friends this weekend was.

There I was, listening to my friends talk about wine, a subject about which they are passionate (and ridiculously knowledgeable). We engaged in what L calls the "Socratic method of learning about wine," in which I listen and try to understand everything they say, and ask questions when I don't. And I loved it. Always the student, I learn at every turn, even when enjoying a glass of wine in the warm post-midnight breeze on a roof high above the District.

And then, somehow, the conversation turned to L's theory of constitutional law. And I don't know whether it was the late hour, my comfort level with these folks, or a little too much delicious red wine, but the light bulb went off. You know, the light bulb that, if I lived in a comic strip, would pop up over my head and say in a thought bubble "A-HA! I know something about this, and what I have to say is intelligent. BigLawFirm shook my confidence, but no more! I will expound on the law!"

Or something like that.

So expound I did, and we had a fascinating and intellectually stimulating conversation about constitutional law and the role of law in organized society. And I remembered, finally, that I was smart. Thanks to people outside of my profession, who I would never know, were it not for a shared love of food.

L probably didn't give that conversation one more moment's thought after he left the roof that night. So he probably has no idea the impact it had on me. Someday, over a good bottle of wine, I'll have to thank him.