jca76

Maketto had been on my list for the past few months, and we finally made it (somewhat unintentionally) on Friday about two weeks ago. When we were quoted a 45-minute wait at Ocopa (for a 4-top), we left a name and headed across the street for a drink. Maketto had a table available immediately if we wanted food, so we figured that we'd do a round of drinks and snacks and decide at that point whether to abandon the Ocopa plan. (Spoiler: we didn't.) We only ordered from the small plates section, mostly because there were more pesca-friendly dishes that appealed there, but also to avoid committing ourselves to a full meal from the get-go. Fermented vegetables were unmemorable, some sort of thinly sliced white root vegetable (I don't think we were ever told what exactly, and I didn't care enough to ask). I'd hoped for an interesting assortment of pickled vegetables, but no such luck. The red snapper crudo was in a tasty sauce -- sort of like a very light Thai curry -- but the fish itself was a bit too fishy for my taste. We were fans of the leek steam buns except the bf (who thought they were just okay). Basically what you'd expect if you're familiar with the pillowy carb delivery vehicle, but I enjoyed the vegi-friendly take on what's usually only a carnivore's option. The bf and I loved the generously portioned scallion pancake -- more bready and less greasy than you'd find from a mine-run Chinese restaurant, veering less Asian with the addition of fantastic scallion compound butter. The oysters on egg omelette was the other table highlight -- thin and slightly stretchy (from the addition of some sort of flour? an effect about which we were warned), the oysters' creating almost-creamy pockets in the egg. Nostalgically reminded me of a late-night hawker stall meal in Singapore back in college. By far my favorite drink was our pregnant friend's turmeric "drinking vinegar" (so hot right now) with palm sugar and soda water -- like an exotic Italian soda. (They'll also mix the vinegars with booze, and I bet it would be great with the suggested bourbon pairing.) The bf's Mala Colada -- basically a spiced pina colada -- was delicious (he loved it), but a bit heavy for my non-on-a-beach taste. Prego's husband's Pink Kao (an intriguing-sounding combination of Kaoling, ginger, Aperol, honey, lemon, and Angostura bitters) just tasted disappointingly flat -- everyone's least favorite. I can't recall the name of my brown-liquor cocktail, but it tasted like a twist on an old fashioned that was good but read too wintery for the weather. I enjoyed our experience, but it wasn't quite as good as I'd hoped/expected from the hype. After the one round, the vastly superior cocktails and more interesting (in my opinion), consistent food at Ocopa beckoned us back across the street. For now, Maketto is a better-than-H-Street-average addition to the neighborhood -- I'll definitely happily return -- but Ocopa is the better restaurant. (I'm still confused by Maketto's concept, despite the discussion on this board and actually having eaten there, walked through the space, and even purchased some ridiculous socks (as an joke gift) from the front store. Do they actually expect people to be buying $80 shoelaces, or is it just an occasionally self-subsidizing decorative scheme?)

I'm surprised that there hasn't been more posting on Kapnos Taverna; I didn't expect to have to dig so far back to find this thread! Maybe that's a reflection of mixed experiences similar to what I had last night. It had been on our list for awhile now because we've liked Kapnos for dinner and brunch (a general lack of respect for reservation times and a few bad dishes aside), and this more seafood-focused effort sounded right up our pescatarian alley. So when a visiting vegan friend said that the menu looked vegan-friendly enough, we trekked out there during last night's deluge. Our waiter was very nice, but service was a bit inattentive. This made sense at the beginning of the meal, when the restaurant was pretty full and we were preemptively and apologetically informed that there were only two servers on the floor, but it became frustrating when the room emptied out and our waiter still didn't come back to ask after our empty drink glasses. Of the spreads, we ordered the favosalata (yellow lentils, scallions, black garlic - $7 and vegan), taramasalata (carp roe, caviar, cauliflower - $11), and melitzanosalata (smoky eggplant, roasted peppers, walnuts, feta - $8). Sounds like goodeats and I had pretty opposite views on the two we both ordered. The eggplant was excellent and our clear favorite -- good smokiness, nicely contrasting crunch and creaminess. No one really loved the lentils, although they were fine. The drizzle of black garlic (syrup?) was a bit oddly sweet, while the lentils themselves were bland (they could have use a bit of salt, I think). A little gremolata-ish dollop in the center was surprisingly spicy and would have been better if we'd figured out immediately to spread it around instead of eating our way to it from the outside of the dish. I liked the taramasalata more than the bf did; although it's definitely inferior to Nostos's lighter, whipped version, I wasn't as bothered as he by its greater fishiness or runniness. I appreciated that when we asked for crudite, we got two flatbreads and one crudite plate without charge instead of three flatbreads. However, the drizzle of olive oil on top of the sliced tomatoes and cucumbers was unnecessary and weird given that we wanted the vegis for dipping; I'd have asked them to leave it off if I'd internalized its mention on the menu. (As others have noted, the trio for $21 seems like a terrible deal; we would have saved $5 ($4 from the most expensive spread on the menu) and gotten what appeared (from our view of another table's order) to be about half the amount of food.) The main lobster flatbread (lemon yogurt, caper, dill - $17) was very tasty, but exactly what you'd expect from the description. The lobster itself was nicely tender, and the portion was large (although it would have been easier to eat if the half-a-square triangles had been halved again). The most disappointing dish of the meal was the taylor bay scallops (apple, grapefruit - $16). Five little shells each held a pretty mound of cubed scallop, apple, grapefruit, julienned radish, and dill, topped with a slivered disk of green chile (I'd guess serrano). Other than the chile, I could only identify the components visually or from the menu description. The overall impression was of moist, cool blandness followed by a punch of flavorless heat. Badly in need of salt, the later bites were better once we requested some. My first thought on reading the description of the crispy eggplant (spicy honey, orange pith puree - $9) is that pith puree sounds disgusting, but I am happy that I risked it. I loved the orange and honey combination -- I didn't get spice, but it did have a slightly burned-in-a-good way flavor that reminded me of Gypsy Soul's excellent carrots. In contrast to Cooter's view, my complaint about the dish was about the texture of the eggplant itself. Although the outside was nicely crisp, the insides of the half-inch-thick slices were just unappealingly mushy (which didn't seem whipped to me). Better were the smoky roasted oysters (ras el hanout, pastirma - $10); the four oysters tasted more raw than I'd expected from the "roasted" description, but they were delicious. (However, after the fact I am potentially annoyed: I'd asked the waiter what "pastirma" was, and he said a spice blend, which I found kind of funny at the time given that the dish also listed ras el hanout, but I took him at his word. Google suggests that it's actually a cured meat, which means that (1) as pescatarians, we inadvertently ate meat, and (2) it wasn't even good enough that we realized we were eating meat. Maybe they just use the spices that would normally go with the meat -- the way that you can find pastrami-spiced non-meat things, which would explain why we didn't see/taste anything meaty. And now that I write this, I assume that pastirma and pastrami have to be etymologically related.) Our vegan loved (and I liked) the roasted beets (walnut, orange coriander dressing - $8), particularly the dressing. (I found the beets over-roasted into softness.) The horta (kale, chard, chickpeas, baby tomatoes - $9) was odd, its broth so salty that my friend worried from the smell that it couldn't be vegan, although she was assured that it was. It was basically a mound of wilted greens, chickpeas, and grape tomatoes (cooked to the point of softness but not yet popped) in a briny puddle. It made me long for Jaleo's superior, hearty spinach and chickpea stew. Excellent cocktails. I started happily with the papa-bear (bourbon, cardamaro, cinnamon raisins infused sweet vermouth, pimento bitters, alleppo) -- a bit sweet, the cinnamon strong, kind of a winter-breakfast-in-a-glass thing going on. The bf went first with the hannibal (mezcal, cointreau, lime, ginger, harissa), which was nicely smoky while remaining light. I liked the lucky charms (flor de cana 4yr rum, lime, allspice, mint, angostura bitters) -- heavy on the spices flavor, to the exclusion of really picking up on the lime and mint -- but preferred the shepherd (beefeater gin, mountain tea, grilled lemon juice, oregano). (Grilled lemon has featured in Kapnos: Original Flavor cocktails that I've liked.) Dinner was good, but didn't reach the same heights as Kapnos (or Zaytinya) have, and we had nits to pick with most dishes. I want Kapnos Taverna to be better than it currently is.

a coworker and i just went to beefsteak for lunch, and unfortunately i'm not as enthusiastic as sheldman. it's a very confusing concept, with so many vegetables, sauces, etc. in the selection and no clear idea how they would all fit together even as we were staring at the mise en place. i went with one of their set options (the eden) because i had no idea how to approach all the options and figured that i might as well experience it through one of the vetted combinations. roasted garlic yogurt and cilantro sauces were poured on a bed of quinoa. snowpeas, edamame, green beans, asparagus, and broccoli were flash-boiled (in the fryer contrapion that sheldman mentioned) and piled on top, then dressed with lemon honey dressing (which had no discernable flavor to me) but not otherwise seasoned. cold toppings (a small pile of what-is-this-doing-here shredded romaine, a few spoonfuls of diced cucumber salad, a tiny bunch of sprouts, and a sprinkling of scallions) were segregated off to one side of the container, and then the entire dish gets a dusting of sesame seeds. the first bites of the vegetable layer were disappointingly plain, until i stirred it all together to incorporate the delicious sauced quinoa on the bottom. (my friend commented correctly that everything should get tossed together at the end like at a salad place.) the result was enjoyable -- and very filling -- but i never forgot that i was virtuously Eating My Vegetables, which i am able to forget with a good sweetgreen salad. if i had been home and had a ton of vegetable odds-and-ends that i was trying to use up, i would have been very pleased with myself for producing this lunch. but as a restaurant concept, it's not something that i can imagine craving or rushing back to eat again. if you're looking for a healthy lunch that isn't sweetgreen across the street, beefsteak is worth trying, but on balance i'd rather just have another rad thai. (if i do go again, i'd definitely opt for something with more aggressive flavors, like the kimchi one that sheldman enoyed.) a couple of tips: (1) if you construct your own, get more than one sauce, as the vast majority of the flavor is coming from that. my friend only went with one and was quite underwhelmed, while my sauce-soaked quinoa was my favorite part. (2) consider asking for a sprinkling of sea salt if you generally like your vegetables well seasoned, especially if you go with one of the set options. it's an option next to the "crunchy" toppings that my friend wisely requested, but my container was lidded and passed to the cashier before i thought to do the same.

recently made a reservation to take friends who are visiting from london in may, as a long overdue wedding present for them. can't wait!

It's been awhile since I've had one, and it's not the chunks-of-vegetable variety but rather a vegetarian alternative that doesn't mimic meat, but I have enjoyed BTS's Haight Asbury (Crispy Falafel Patty, Pickled Vegetables, Feta, Cilantro Raita).

If you've bought your tickets with some notice so that you can get a reservation, walk the additional two blocks past Washington Circle and go to Rasika West End. (I have had luck with very early reservations on short notice, or grabbing seats at the bar, so that could also work.) They've got a 3-course pre-theatre menu before 6:30.

FYI: Little Serow is doing another all-fish menu this week. Only two of the seven dishes are repeats from the last pescatarian menu (the gap kai buu and pla som, in my review above), both of which I loved and am looking forward to eating again. (Here's hoping that my flagging this doesn't increase the line when I go! )

Thanks, good to know -- will have to pay better attention when we're next there.

China Chilcano still seems to be in a soft opening-ish stage; I was informed when I called to ask about walk-ins that they were limiting capacity for table seating but that we would be welcome to try for bar seats. Luckily we snagged two about five minutes after arriving at the half-empty restaurant at around 9:00 p.m. on Tuesday last week. The space is larger than I'd expected, similar in vibe to the remodeled, cooler Jaleo, with a slightly nautical air thanks to heavy coils of rope hanging from various ceiling fixtures. (I wasn't a fan of the rope; it weighed down an otherwise pretty airy space.) We started well with the Papas a la Huancaina y Ocopa (Potato, ají­ amarillo sauce, huacatay sauce, fresh cheese). A very plated version of what I understand to be a classic Peruvian dish: two rows of tiny, perfect halved potatoes,one dressed with yellow pepper sauce (a bit mayonnaise-y for my taste, but just a personal preference) and cheese, the other with a green huacatay sauce (black mint, an interesting herb that I'd first tried at Ocopa) and garnished with chopped nuts (walnuts? pecans?). Boiled quail egg halves also dotted the plate. Excellent overall, and I particularly liked the vibrant huacatay sauce and crunchy nuts. Next arrived the Chupe de Camarí³n (Shrimp, fresh cheese, Peruvian corn, potato, poached egg, rice). In Andres restaurant tradition, the broth was poured tableside -- or, in our case (for understandable space reasons), barside while still on the waiter's tray, which deprived us of a view of what was in the bowl before it was submerged. Much less stew-like than I'd anticipated, I couldn't really distinguish any of the listed ingredients except the head-on shrimp and rice. The thin broth was tasty but needed more salt and acid to really make it pop, and the rice bed at the bottom of the bowl tasted underseasoned. We were thoroughly disappointed by the Jaladito Norteí±o (Hamachi tiradito-style, ají­ amarillo leche de tigre, Peruvian corn, huacatay). The hamachi was so fishy that we sent it back, and the leche de tigre on the one bite that I tried was surprisingly bland and needed acid. (We are generally loathe to send a dish back unless there's something truly objectionable about it, but we both realized that we had no interest in eating more than our first bite each.) Maybe just an off night/batch of fish, but not good. The Tiradito de Concha Abanico con Kumquats (Live scallop in half-shell, kumquat leche de tigre, masago pearls, tobiko) was much better. The scallops tasted very fresh (as you'd expect from the "live" description), and I liked the sour-sweet of the kumquat. The pile of scallop slices was thickly ringed in jewel-red tobiko, which added salt when combined, but I found the scallop slices to be undersalted if not balanced with enough roe. We were told to dredge the scallops in a tiny dish of masago rice pearls (presumably for texture?), which I found weird because then the first thing to hit my tongue was their unseasoned, bland rice flavor. I liked but didn't love this dish; dishes with disparate components that require me to combine the elements just right to get proper seasoning and flavor are a pet peeve of mine. Another high point of dinner was the Uni (Nigiri-style potato causa, fresh sea urchin, wasabi, masago pearls, yuzu). Little rectangles of potato (with a pleasant surprise of jicama in the middle) were rolled in rice pearls (better here than in with the scallops) and topped with uni. The uni flavor was more of an ensemble member than the star that I'd expected, but the overall combination was delicious. We really liked the Raspadilla de Chicha Morada (Shaved purple corn ice, lemongrass menjar blanco, pineapple), which prompted our neighbors at the bar to ask what we'd ordered when they saw the mound of vivid purple-red shaved ice. Tasty in a fruity sort of way that wasn't noticeably corn flavored; if you'd told me it was hibiscus, I also would have believed that. (Upon writing this, I think this purple corn might be the same thing that's used in the limeade-y drink that starts meals at Ocopa.) The menjar blanco tasted like dulce de leche custard, which I love (although I didn't pick up on lemongrass). A refreshing sweet end to dinner. The drink list isn't as extensive (or enticing, to me) as Ocopa's, but I enjoyed my Déjame Quererte (Quebranta Pisco, persimmon, cinnamon, lemon). It was nicely acidic, not too sweet, and the cinnamon made it feel seasonally appropriate despite its otherwise light fruitiness. The bf wasn't drinking so went with the Agua de Loco (Crazy man's water flavored with apple and cinnamon), which tasted pretty much as you'd guess from the description. I liked it more than he did. As the second Peruvian restaurant to open in DC in five months, it's impossible for me to write about China Chilcano without comparing it to Ocopa (as this post reflects throughout). Maybe that's unfair, given that Ocopa has had more time to establish itself (and I've eaten there three times to CC's one), but fair or not, I cut such a seasoned chef and restaurateur as Chef Andres less slack than I would give to someone opening a first restaurant. I'm always happy to go to Zaytinya, think barmini is fantastic, have had many excellent meals at minibar, Jaleo, and Oyamel over the years (and still miss Cafe Atlantico for brunch) -- all of which contribute to my expectations for any new addition to the empire. While I found a number of things to like about CC -- and I liked it well enough that I'll go back in a few months -- it's currently clearly the inferior of the two Peruvian options in town on food and drinks. (In contrast, my first meal at Ocopa back in September left me excited to return, and our recent third was the best yet.) I'll definitely keep an eye on others' reports in the months to come.

I really the grilled prawn paste rice paper wraps (107, I think), which are basically shrimp patties grilled on skewers of sugar cane (which the bf loves to chew on). Sounds a bit strange, perhaps, but we ordered it originally on the waitress's rec and now it's a go-to. It's three skewers (I think?) and plenty filling if you also use the vermicelli and vegis. (Plus, when family visited from out of town, they got a kick out of the process of wetting the rice paper and rolling our individualized rolls.)

How is this choice presented? (And when was the last time you experienced this?) I don't recall choosing the entree course since they did away with menus years ago, although they will ask about likes/dislikes. (I'm pescatarian, but have almost always been accompanied by meat eating friends.)

I hope that's what it was; the place was completely packed when we arrived (although the crowd had thinned considerably by the end of the meal). The food was excellent, and it's great that DC diners are already flocking there. I'm rooting for them to smooth out the service wrinkles!

Friends and I had no trouble getting a reservation for four at 8:00 p.m. last Friday, made a few days in advance. It was so mobbed when I arrived -- and I overheard the hostess apologetically tell multiple people who had been waiting thirty minutes to an hour that it would be another thirty to forty-five minutes more -- that I worried that our reservation wasn't going to mean much. Luckily, we were seated by about 8:15, almost immediately after the last of our party arrived. That was the only smooth service interaction of the night. The food, like at Bangkok Golden, was excellent, but the service was comically bad. We were seated for twenty-five minutes before we finally just flagged down a passing waiter to request water and order drinks and appetizers. As it neared 9:00, one friend, frustrated with our empty water glasses, simply got up from our table, walked to the bar area, took one of the water pitchers, filled our glasses, and returned the pitcher. No one on staff seemed to notice. Like at Little Serow, the meal began with pork rinds (cucumber slices for the pescatarian bf and me), sticky rice, and a spicy sauce -- sort of like a spicy Asian BBQ sauce (not like LS's funky fish spreads). It didn't hurt that I was pretty famished at this point, but I thought it was delicious. I particularly liked the purple-tinted, black-rice-flecked sticky rice with it. Unlike at Little Serow, no one seemed to notice when we'd run out of cucumber slices or sticky rice. The vegetarian naem khao (crispy rice, coconut, lime, green onion, peanut, cilantro, lettuce wraps) was outstanding -- probably my favorite dish of the night. Better than I remembered the crispy rice salad's being at BG. Different sorts of crunch from the rice, peanuts, and lettuce, bright with acid and herbs. Just fantastic. The shrimp yor khao (summer roll with peanut sauce) were good, standard-seeming summer rolls, but the least interesting dish of the meal. (The peanut sauce isn't the thick peanutty puree that I'd have expected, but rather a sweet clear sauce filled with peanut chunks. A preferable pairing for the light rolls.) Our tam muk hoong (green papaya, cherry tomato, lime, chilies, shrimp paste) was MIA. The wait between rounds was so long that the melting ice in my (delicious) Thai iced tea and the bf's pandan soy milk (a bright mint green color!) -- both ordered as a preemptive hedge to combat the spiciness -- created a visible watery layer on the surface of our drinks. The waiter came by at some point (well after 9:30) to ask if we needed anything in a manner that suggested that he thought we'd already received everything that we'd ordered. We said we'd like the rest of our food, including the papaya salad, and one friend ordered a second beer. The waiter seemed surprised, was apologetic (as he was multiple times throughout the meal), and returned quickly to say that the kitchen was "just working on our order." (Code for "I just put it in with a rush because a ticket got lost"?) When it finally arrived, the salad was very, very good -- spicy without being overwhelming -- although I could have done without picking the squeezed lime wedges out of the salad. (Dishes had a fair bit of heat, but nothing like what we'd experienced at BG (or LS, which I think has gotten less spicy than it was originally); our back-and-forth with the waiter on spice levels (and how it compared to BG) resulted in an appropriate translation of "medium, but, like, white-people medium.") Both the papaya salad and the long-time-coming second beer didn't show up on our check, which was nice. Recalling a lhollers's recommendation, I ordered the moak pah (steamed flounder wrapped in banana leaves, curry paste, dill); heavy on the dill, it was deliciously different from dishes Lao (or Thai) fish dishes that I've previously had. Although we'd ordered the koi pla dib (rockfish ceviche), a shrimp ceviche arrived. (Given the service snafus, we didn't bother to ask what happened with our rockfish and just dug in.) No matter, as it was excellent -- the spiciest dish of the meal, but so fresh with apple matchsticks and lots of acid. The tofu laab (minced salad, toasted rice, garlic, scallion, cilantro, mint) was another favorite. Our friends liked the seafood orm (curry stew, Thai eggplant, dill) more than I did; I couldn't detect any eggplant, and while good, it wasn't as outstanding for me as other dishes. (In another funny service moment, the bowls that we had requested to facilitate eating the soup finally arrived about two minutes after we all declared ourselves too stuffed to eat any more.) We ordered three appetizers and four entrees among four of us; we could have probably done with one fewer entree quantity-wise, but our ordering left just enough to take home one leftovers lunch. It was 10:45 by the time we'd paid the (refreshingly small -- under $30/person pre-tip for a lot of food) bill. The silver lining to the service issues is that they were the sort of bad (and the staff seemed so overwhelmed) that I'm willing to chalk it up to opening kinks. The food was so good that we'll definitely be back . . . but probably not until they've had some more time to find their groove.

I didn't get around to writing about our dinner on Wednesday as quickly as I'd hoped, but better late than never. I feel like a broken record whenever I rave about how much I love Johnny Monis's food -- or how wonderful Anne and the rest of the Little Serow (and Komi) staff are in the front of the house -- but he is just so talented. As Gadarene mentioned, the menu ($10 more than usual, due ingredient costs) featured all new dishes, and we loved it. I've pasted the full menu at the bottom for posterity. First up, the gaap kai buu (coconut husk/mud crab/shrimp paste), smeared inside a wedge of burnt coconut husk, served with the usual sticky rice and basket of brightly colored raw leaves and sliced root vegetables. We loved the wallop of crab, spice, and funk. The second round included our favorite of the night: yum hoy khohm (snails/snakehead fish/rice paddy herb). The first note of each bite of glass noodles and seafood was bright lime, which hurtled into spiciness -- which was expected, given the spatlese Riesling pairing. (The bf said immediately that it read almost Italian, evocative of spaghetti with parmesan, basil, and tomato.) Just an incredible, vibrant dish. The rice powder on top (bizzaro parm) added a great je ne sais quoi -- I'm not sure what it would taste like on its own, but it was definitely adding dimension -- and the snails (of which we're often not really fans) created subtle, slightly chewy-rich pockets amid the more pronounced chunks of fish, noodles, and herbs (cilantro and rice paddy, i.e., the un-basil). (Something in the sauce tasted vaguely tomato-y, but that could have just been our imaginations from the acidity and slight reddish hue of the sauce, which we ate with rice when the noodles disappeared.) The khai luuk khoei (steamed eggs/tamarind/crispy anchovy) -- crunchy-crusted egg halves topped with miniscule fried anchovies and tamarind caramel -- arrived at the same time as the noodles, and we made the mistake of eating them first. A tasty snack-like bite but not mind-blowing on their own, I think I would have appreciated the fudgy richness of the yolk more as a contrast to the acidity (and way to cut the spiciness) of the accompanying yum hoy khohm. My second favorite of the night was the pla som (fermented fish/lobster roe/yellow bean). Loved the creamy, coconut-heavy dipping sauce with the hot crispy fried catfish. Unfortunately, the otherwise delicious coconut basmati rice that came with the hoy prik thai (clams/green peppercorns/lime leaf) was a bit overpowering for the delicate sauce on the kaffir-accented clams (good but probably my least favorite dish). I preferred it with the regular sticky rice. Finally, the pla thua (whole fish/tamarind/basil) arrived, skin-on (although I removed it when I filleted the fish because I'm not a fan of fish skin when it isn't crispy) and prettily strewn with chilies and basil. Another delicate sauce -- lemongrassy? -- that was lovely with the moist white fish, but not as intensely exciting as some of the earlier dishes had been. We ended with fascinatingly strange little pastry knots, salty-sweet with garlic, fish sauce, and palm sugar, and a bizzaro bubble tea of sweet coffee with tapioca pearls. (I'm a lifelong coffee hater, and I actually drank this!) Here's hoping that Little Serow repeats this all-seafood experiment in the future. gaap kai buu coconut husk / mud crab / shrimp paste yum hoy khohm snails / snakehead fish / rice paddy herb khai luuk khoei steamed eggs / tamarind / crispy anchovy pla som fermented fish / lobster roe / yellow bean hoy prik thai clams / green peppercorns / lime leaf pla thua whole fish / tamarind / basil

Just gorged on Little Serow's delicious all-fish menu, special this week. I'll do a more full write-up tomorrow (time permitting), but for anyone who has avoided going to Little Serow because of meat-related dietary restrictions, go this week. As a pescatarian who monitors the online menu regularly for weeks with only one or two meat dishes and then just skips them, being able to enjoy every course tonight was long-awaited pleasure.

Thanks so much! (This is one of the great things about this forum -- allowing diners to connect with the chefs whose food we enjoy, and I really appreciate you and the others in the industry who are so responsive.) Can't wait to attempt them myself. Happy almost-Thanksgiving!

To RJ's credit, the service that we had on a recent weeknight dinner was excellent; I wish I could recall the female server's name. She was attentive without being intrusive, friendly, and very helpful with suggestions, including, after we told her that we are pescatarian, recommending that the shrimp and grits would still work without the sausage. We hadn't thought to ask about that, and they were great (loved the unexpected onions). We also really appreciate the thoughtfulness of the nonalcoholic cocktails on the list; the bf wasn't drinking that night due to a medical issue (not that anyone needs an excuse not to drink, but we've recently become attuned to nonalcoholic offerings because it's a recent-onset thing), and his toasted coconut mocktail was as excellent as my boozy order. (Bryan is such a great talent, we've had many enjoyable drinks at SpiritsBar/Rogue 24!) And those honey-orange glazed carrots, mmm -- I'm going to attempt to recreate them for Thanksgiving this week. (RJ, you should put out a cookbook and share your secrets!)

I bet Gypsy Soul would do a great Thanksgiving (they appear to be open and have reservation availability on Opentable); the Southern-inspired menu seems like it would translate well to a hearty holiday meal. (I'm going to attempt to recreate their delicious honey-orange glazed carrots for my own Thanksgiving!)

I'm not entirely sure. The corn salad and two potato dishes (we tried one -- potatoes, queso fresco, a delicious spicy sauce) are vegetarian (as far as I could tell); the salad and one potato dish would probably make enough food for a (smallish?) meal, but without much choice. If the chef is willing to be accommodating, I think a vegetarian version of the quinoa fried rice would still be fantastic. It's also possible one of the causitas would be worth getting, or the sides from another dish I haven't tried. Maybe try calling to see if they are able to do any vegetarian accommodations?

I'm surprised there hasn't been more commentary on Ocopa on this board, given how good the food has been on my two visits (the last this past Saturday). Ocopa is the first restaurant I've been to on H Street that makes me actively want to return to the neighborhood to eat (which isn't convenient from where I live in NW, but where I end up periodically to visit friends who live in the area). Fair warning, the space isn't conducive to groups, because there are only a few tables that can comfortably accommodate groups of four or more (probably six max at one table). On my first visit, we sat at the kitchen bar, which made conversation from end to end a bit difficult, but was compensated for by the chance to see the kitchen action and chat with the chef (who is extremely personable, in addition to being talented). However, last time we were initially seated at a counter attached to a wall (near the bar), which was so narrow that I'm not sure how we would have managed the dishes (not to mention the weirdness of staring at the wall). Luckily, after we asked to be moved, a real table in the front of the restaurant opened up before we even ordered, making both conversation and sharing of dishes much easier. Both the classico and Nikei (tuna -- more Japanese in flavor from the soy) ceviches were delicious, although I preferred the dishes involving the excellent leche de tigre (so the classico and a razor clam dish that was essentially ceviche canapes on the shell). A bay scallop ceviche special was a little too fishy for our taste; it was the only dish we didn't finish. The ensalada de maiz is fantastic, full of fun texture (I particularly like its use of choclo, the giant, starchy corn kernals that show up on a number of dishes) and dressed in a bright vinaigrette. Asian-inflected dishes, reflecting Peru's significant Japanese and Chinese populations, are sprinkled throughout the menu. I loved the quinoa fried rice, an haute version of the Chinese restaurant staple, which got great texture from the crunchy quinoa (although I'm not sure the lobster added much; shrimp or another protein likely would have worked just as well at a lower price point). We also really liked the well-fried pescado frito, although the soy-and-sesame-heavy sauce was a little one-note (albeit a delicious one), so I was glad we were sharing among four people because I wouldn't have wanted to eat the entire generous portion on my own. The causitas (balls of whipped potato topped with protein) were too similar to recommend ordering more than one (we inadvertently got the smelt after having ordered the rockfish, so tried two), and while good (particularly the rockfish, with a tangy sauce that shows up in other dishes), they were much simpler and less exciting than the other dishes we tried. Meat-eating friends loved the pork belly dishes that they ordered. There's no dessert menu, but tiny powdered sugar-dusted cookies sandwiched with dulce de leche, presented with the check, were a perfect little sweet bite. (When we asked about dessert on our first visit, we ended up with an order of fried squash rings with a sort of honey dipping sauce, a weird sweet-and-sour dish that I couldn't decide whether I liked but would have probably worked better not as a dessert. Not sure whether this was a one-off or if there are dessert plans in the works.) Service is friendly but prone to hiccups. On both occasions, a dish or drink or two were wrong, which is particularly problematic when so many dishes look similar/have unusual enough ingredients that it's not obviously wrong until you taste it (smelt can't be mistaken for rockfish!). Staff was nice about bringing the correct dish (and there were no bill mistakes, luckily), but I'd rather have the server write down our orders and get them right than attempt and fail to remember everything. The cocktails are interesting and excellent, but as JoshNE mentioned, the wait for drinks is inexplicably long -- a problem that the restaurant seems to realize; our second round was comp'd for the delay without our even saying anything. A very nice gesture, but the food and drinks are too good for the service issues not to be fixed so that this can be a truly fantastic dining experience. Ocopa's style of food is very different, in a good way, from any other restaurant I've been to in DC, and I will definitely keep returning to (hopefully) watch it grow.

I suggest that you just explain the diner's limitations in advance and leave it to the kitchen to do the best that they can -- and in my experience, they're great at handling dietary restrictions. I'm pescatarian, which has never been an issue, and on trips over the last year they've accommodated one friend who doesn't like seafood (so no fish/roe/urchin/etc. for him -- his loss) and another who was pesctarian but pregnant (so nothing raw).

I had a very enjoyable dinner at Crane & Turtle on a recent Friday night. We didn't have a reservation, but despite the hour wait time that we were quoted at around 8:00, I got a call in about thirty minutes that a table had freed up (causing us to hurry back from the bar where we'd ended up!). The space is beautiful, airy high ceilings, white-painted wood walls, and lovely blue accents. Both the host and our server were very friendly, and our server expressed opinions when we asked, which is so appreciated (I hate when you get an ambivalent "everything is good" or "x is popular"). We opted to have the tuna tataki done with toro, and we kept dipping into its fantastic satay sauce (fishy in a good way from tuna scraps cooked into it, a bit nutty from peanuts, complex with spices I couldn't identify) with our empty chopsticks long after the fish and crispy socca chips were gone. Even better was the hiramasa (a type of yellowtail) tataki and its fantastic vinegary-miso nuta dressing. Sea trout carpaccio wasn't surprising -- avocado mousse and dill creme fraiche tasted as you'd expect, but the briny/creamy combo is classic for a reason -- and I loved the smoked flavor on the salmon roe. The monkfish entree was artistically plated with the white monkfish on its white bed of flageolet bean puree occupying the left half of the plate and the ink-blackened squid on the right, but the monkfish seemed bland in comparison to the great smoked squid. Much better to ruin the pretty plating by getting bits of olive saltiness and smoky flavor with each well-cooked bite of fish. Delicious. We weren't wowed by everything. The cherry gazpacho was lush and velvety in texture, but I didn't particularly like the contrasting jolt of raw cherrystone clam bits and thought the crisp kakiage (fried strips of leek) were sufficient to cut the sweetness of the soup. The tomatoes in the marinated heirloom tomato salad were gorgeously ripe, but the fried green tomatoes on their own were undersalted (a problem solved by the valdeon). It was a lovely summer salad, but the subtlety of the charred eggplant oil made it less interesting than I'd expected from the menu description (and the strength of the amuses de mer). The roasted summer squash filled with corn, cherry tomatoes, okra, and a garam masala yogurt-almond chutney (which mostly tasted of cumin to me, but was delicious) reminded me pleasantly of a lightened take on vegetarian chili, but it wasn't quite good enough to make forget that I was eating a vegetarian entree. We finished strong with excellent cheese and dessert. Well-done classic gougeres were filled (unclassically) with tangy-tart ground cherry mustarda that cut the richness of a gooey pool of Pont L'Eveque cheese sauce (a washed-rind soft cheese) in which the gougeres sat -- essentially a plated cheese course. (Ground cherries are the tiny, not-so-sweet orange-yellow globes with a papery casing that I've always known as husk cherries.) A moist black sesame cake got fresh sweetness from roasted peaches and buttermilk ice cream. I appreciated that the beverage list included a number of cider options, but left it for a future visit to sample them. Instead I enjoyed both a Black Manhattan (made less standard by the inclusion of Amaro) and a White Negroni made with Suze and Cocchi instead of the standard vermouth and Campari. (I'm not usually a Negroni fan because I don't like Campari, but the waiter correctly assured me that this wasn't nearly as bitter.) Thanks to the charming atmosphere and a number of hits on the menu, we'll definitely be back to see how it evolves.

On timing, I've pretty routinely gone on weeknights with the bf at around 9:00-9:30, and there's basically never longer than a thirty minute wait (sometimes no wait at all). Also, they tend to brutally overestimate quoted wait times (especially for larger groups); I assume it's because some parties ahead of me in line get scared away and go elsewhere (their loss). On at least two occasions (one a Thursday, one a Friday) the wait for a 4-top was about an hour shorter than the initial quote. I also want to applaud GM Andrew (who I believe handles wine) for his list and how great he was for chatting with us about it when we were in last week. Rose's has always had an interesting assortment of glasses and bottles, and now there is a separate (slightly pricier?) bottle list that includes some more unusual options. We loved both an all-sauvignon blanc orange wine and an old, vintage white Rioja.

I love Rose's -- I make it there at least once a month, by far the most often I return to any DC restaurant, because it's basically my restaurant happy place -- but I'm having a hard time rationalizing the price tag on trying the rooftop. Could someone who has done the roof experience and eaten regularly at Rose's highlight what, if anything, sets this experience apart/makes it worth doing? I realize "worth it" is such a subjective thing when it comes to dining experiences (especially expensive ones), but the stellar reviews on this thread have highlighted things like service and quality/quantity of the food, all of which have been fantastic downstairs. It would be one thing if they were doing a truly separate menu on the roof, but it sounds like it's an assortment of things that have been, are, or will be on the regular menu? Given that you can order the entire regular menu for slightly under $200, which would be excessive for four people, it seems like a pretty hefty mark-up for the convenience of getting a large-party reservation. (Just last week I ate downstairs with three friends for about $125/person pre-tip, which included three excellent bottles of wine, two orange and one vintage white Rioja; props to GM Andrew for the (new?) extended, very interesting separate bottle list.) Maybe this is more a reflection of the fact that the regular Rose's menu isn't priced as expensively as it could be, but at only $10 cheaper than Komi for rooftop, I'm not sure I'd rather not just go back to Komi if I'm splurging or eat twice off the Rose's a la carte menu, but I'm open to being persuaded otherwise.

If you're a fan of Milk Bar's desserts, the cookbook is absolutely fantastic. Whatever I make out of it -- the cornflake-chocolate-marshmallow cookies are a particular favorite -- is always a hit with friends/coworkers. (A small part of me is sad that once Milk Bar opens here, all my local friends will realize that my baking glories are just my basking in the reflected glow of Tosi's genius.)