Stretch

Haven't we heard that somewhere before?

I think this circular firing squad is about ready to be disbanded. If you want to go, just go. If you don't want to go, just don't go. Otherwise, please, just let it go!

That's total bullshit. All of us take ourselves far too seriously.

This has been a definite problem there when they are busy. Too many pizzas going through too fast=sog city.

Got my Father's Day treat early yesterday in the form of a night on the town sans baby and better half. Met a friend at Oya, which is extremely cool, both literally (despite the fireplaces) and figuratively, and extremely expensive if you drink the (very good) cocktails. Sadly, they don't serve from the main menu at the bar and the bar menu is limited to sushi, so we broke for Poste and pounded a couple of Wagyu tartares and Delirium Tremens instead. Next stop was supposed to be Andale, but the bar was full, so we wandered over to Signatures, which didn't have that particular problem, for a baked mac n' cheese and a little vino. This led to a discussion about bar menus in general and bar menu value propositions in particular. Which led to a brisk walk up to Corduroy -- where we saw the Shorters dining royally and were very kindly welcomed with an impromptu, and delicious, scallop tartare. This was followed in short order by spring rolls, softshell sandwiches and a superbly beefy flatiron steak. Sadly, the house Margaux and the boring company had by this time begun to tell on my friend, who had to be decanted into a cab and sent on his way, clutching to his chest the doggy bag of shame. Being made of stupider stuff, I cleared my head with a long shamble across town to Firefly, where Derek immediately fogged it again by forcing a couple of coconut caipirinhas down my neck. Based on the available phenomenological evidence this morning, they put quite a lot of cachaca in those bad boys. After that, just the usual -- Johnny's Half Shell, Sette, BdC, forcible ejection*, yadda yadda yadda and this morning I got a food processor from the kid and a box of Raisinets from the dog. Fatherhood rules. (*Inserted for dramatic effect. May not be a representation of actual events. Celebrity voices impersonated.)

Second the fish tacos. They're great. I didn't know TP had a place in Ballston. Is that new?

Man, I say we just eat the lobsters and smoke the tea ourselves! Although not necessarily in that order...

The Komi thing's either a wind-up (Rocks?) or by far the most words ever wasted on one sentence worth of information. "It was very hot at Komi the other night." BdC -- Shades of Fawlty Towers Gourmet Night. "Sorry, duck's off!"

Well, I guess that's one of the two possible explanations.

What used to be in that spot, the Asian noodle place?

We're number one! We're number ... wait. What the ... ? Perhaps not entirely unrelated to this ancillary factoid. Shoulders to the wheel, peeps. Noses in the glass.

The application, or the attitude?

And all is not lost on the grilling front, anyway. A quick sear and then take the flesh the rest of the way via the indirect method.

That looks like a screaming deal. (PS: Could Johnny M. be any more suave?)

Doughlusions of grandeur?

Around $15 in stores, though available as low as $9.99 on the Intar Web, Raats Family Wines Original Chenin Blanc, 2004. From one of the better new-school South African Chenin producers. Unwooded and crisp, lots of citrus. I'm buying more.

Had a rose from the Cotes De Ventoux last night. Domaine De Fondreche, L'Instant Rose 2004. 100% Syrah. Very nice, buckets of strawberries on the nose and very refreshing, while remaining full bodied at 13.5% alcohol. $8.99 from Morris Miller on the DC line. It's a Robert Kacher import so should also be available elsewhere.

Now I feel really bad about eating those fruppies at the animal shelter benefit. Who knew?

Here be dragon tacos.

OK, I'm a foreigner, but what the fruck are "frickles"?

I am happy to report that the rare and elusive North American Well-Fried Catfish (Flakius Tenderus) can once again be observed in its natural habitat, the warm and fragrant oils of Colorado Kitchen, on Fridays at lunchtime. And so resound my happy, tartare belches...

You forgot: Oya(nother overpriced hipster zoo in Penn Quarter, just what we need.) The Ugly Mug (that's always empty because it's impossible to get any goddamn service.) Mie serving slop N Yu too fucking busy preening to notice, morons.

Meeeoooowwwrrrr.

This would also be sort of like the Ultimate Fighting Challenge for serially annoying restaurant customers. If you can pull your usual petty crap in Buck's Colorado Fishing and Camping Kitchen and escape without several severe beatings, your semi-conscious body shuttled back and forth on the conveyor belt for each chef to get a few good licks in, then you are well hard, sunshine.