DonRocks

The outcry over American Berkshire pork being peddled as Kurobuta seems downright muted (read: nonexistent) when compared with the furious backlash over American Wagyu beef being peddled as Kobe. Snake River Farms seems to be a major culprit behind this marketing scheme. As far as I can tell from their website, their "American Kurobuta" pork has nothing whatsoever to do with Japan (Berkshire pigs originated in England). Their seminal "American Kobe" steers were at least imported from Japan ten years ago (and crossbred, incidentally, with Black Angus muff, so this beef can't even be properly called Wagyu). I'm not saying it isn't any good, just call it what it is, and stop calling it what it isn't. Cheers, Rocks.

Al Crostino was showing some promise for a few months, but now seems to be heading in the wrong direction, as I sat at the bar all I could think about was the techno-thumping music blaring in my ear, and the glass of red wine which was served at eighty degrees and needed to be stuck in the freezer for ten minutes, while the entree pricing is still seductive, an unadorned, overcooked Broiled Salmon ($14) just isn’t worth the trouble of eating, and the Ribeye Steak, Tuscan Style ($15.50), a tremendously gutsy and satisfying dish the last time I had it, now seemed like a cafeteria-inspired afterthought, note to management at Al Crostino: lose the pulsating music if you want to be taken seriously as a restaurant, you’ve probably never heard of Andrew Policelli, but file the name in your memory, because he’s the latest in a remarkable string of pastry chefs at Bistro Bis, sometimes I’ll start my meal with a dessert (well, why shouldn’t I?), and Policelli’s Gâteau au Chèvre ($9.75) was one of the best cheesecakes I’ve had all year, a cylindrical goat-cheese cake, served at nearly room temperature (which is crucial) with an earthy fall fruit compote and candied walnuts, nuts thrown onto a dessert plate can be annoying, but in this case they were a vital part of the plate, if you like the fried chicken at Flavors Soul Food in Falls Church, you’ll love Carlos’ Fried Chicken ($10.99) at MADAM’S ORGAN, billed as their “house specialty” and served with two sides - in this case collard greens and mac-and-cheese - it comes with a warning that it takes awhile to prepare (always a good thing with fried chicken), so I ordered, and waited for what must have been thirty minutes, all the while figuring I’d eventually receive an outsized plate of greasy food, but what showed up was the best surprise I had all week, not only was the chicken masterfully seasoned and fried, the collards and mac-and-cheese weren’t gloppy at all, while this plate of food must have weighed five pounds, it came across as greaseless and darned near refined, you might think of Madam’s Organ as a total dive (which is exactly what it is), but someone in this kitchen is putting out some surprisingly good cooking, I can’t say that PS7 wins the gold medal for the single biggest flop ever to open in Washington, DC - that honor currently goes to Agraria, with Zengo bringing home the silver - but it’s certainly trying to vie with Indebleu and Oyamel for the bronze, the latter seemingly a victim of speculative real estate as much as anything else, and yet I’m naive enough to think that PS7 can eventually right itself, mainly because of the culinary skills of Peter Smith, almost universally respected by chefs around town as a major talent in the kitchen, but for now I just don’t like what I see here, most recently an overpriced Spicy Tuna Tartare ($12.50), marinated with yuzu lime and sweet soy, cucumber lemon grass granité and sesame cracker, a tortured little plate which, on the palate, came across as not much more than a small mound of very ordinary tuna with a cracker, even more disappointing was the Popcorn Crusted (uh, hello?) Halibut ($23.00), with tonka-bean emulsion, arugula flan, honey cap mushrooms, and cipollini onion ragoût, the halibut being geographically separated from the flan, mushrooms, and ragoût by a large and intimidating ridge running down the center of the plate, the halibut itself was dried out and overcooked, but all three vegetables on the other side of the mountain range showed amazing refinement and execution, with well-cooked fish, a more integrated presentation, and the silly popcorn idea jettisoned, this could still be a great dish, but it’s also a microcosm of the fundamental changes that will need to be made if PS7 is ever to take its place among the city’s great restaurants, in my next life I’m coming back as a restaurant consultant: I’m certain that someone who knew what they were doing could have spent just a few hours here early on and saved this establishment a million dollars in mistakes, decent lunch options are few in Potomac Village, but you could do worse than grabbing some take-out from River Falls Seafood Company, about half of which is a prepared foods counter, better than your average Whole Foods and about on a par with Balducci’s, a Grilled Tuna Burger with an Asian Glaze ($7.95) is served cold, without bun, and tastes pretty good if, and only if, you like the taste of refrigerated, veal-based meatloaf, I defy anyone tasting this double-blind to identify it as tuna, River Falls Seafood has branded its crabcakes ($9.95) as being from the “Cadillac Crab Cake Company” and is shipping them via the internet, they’re large and pretty good, and you’ll get a choice of cocktail sauce or tartar sauce when you order, the very good housemade tartar sauce is the way to go, Cee is the new Thai restaurant that opened in the old China Gourmet space (remember this was Peter Chang’s last stop), the wine list here is surprisingly decent, almost at the level of what Paya Thai’s used to be, and the beer list is even better with twenty to choose from including Eggenberg and a couple from Weihenstephen, the owners came from Crystal Thai in Falls Church, and that imprint is very much on some of the dishes which tend to gravitate toward being sweet, Steamed Dumplings ($7) were slices of shrimp-and-pork sausage, stuffed into a good, tough dumpling with dipping sauce, Pad Thai Chicken ($11) was a good version, fairly clean and not too sweet, it benefitted from a bit of hot sauce, Roasted Duck in Curry ($15) is remarkably similar to the version I remember from Crystal Thai, a very good dish with slices of duck bathing in red curry paste with pineapple chunks, basil leaves, a bit of chili pepper, tomatoes, and coconut milk, Fried Bananas and ice cream in syrup ($5.50) were miniature bananas in funnel-cakey batter with a drizzle of honey and a scoop of store-bought ice cream, somebody pumped some money into this restaurant, and for now, Cee appears to sit right alongside Paya Thai and Crystal Thai as good, solid examples of westernized Thai food in northern Virginia, Bob Kinkead recently said, in the new DC Chefs magazine, that “I’ve taken some things off the menu in the past and I’ve been accosted on the street,” and it’s true that he has chosen for the menu at Kinkead’s to be stuck in time, catering to the expectations of tourists and the unadventurous, people searching for reliable comfort more than any sort of groundbreaking culinary event, which is why I was so dazzled and overjoyed by the Shaved Tennessee Ham with Deviled Eggs, “Croque Monsieur,” Frisée Salad and Dijon Dressing ($11), the single greatest dish I’ve had at Kinkead’s in years, as simple and traditional as it may sound, it’s also downright trendy, taking the charcuterie and egg crazes to a new level and more importantly, it was delicious, well conceived and executed, and an absolute pleasure to eat, a perfect dance partner to the Italian Wedding Soup with Barlotti Beans, Mustard Greens and Basil Pesto ($9), which by itself is dull albeit homey, these two dishes together were superb, and I hope the “ham, egg, and cheese” makes its way onto the regular menu for all eternity, Lobster Medallions in a Sherry Marscapone Cream with Baby Roasted Bell Peppers and Four Cheese Agnolottis ($17) felt like driving home after the fireworks were over, partly because I didn’t need any more food, but mainly because the lobster medallions were overcooked and tough, why go to the outlying suburbs for a hideous strip mall when you’ve got one right here on Sangamore Road, Praline Bakery and Restaurant opens at 8 AM for breakfast and has a pretty good pain au chocolat and butter croissant, both made in-house and both some of the better versions in these parts, I like everything about the pissaladière except the name, because it isn’t even remotely close to being a pissaladière, rather, it’s a french-bread pizza with tomatoes, cheese, olives, onions and anchovies, and it’s also quite good, it reminds me of pizza I’d used to see at Ann Amernick’s old bakery in Cleveland Park, I’m not crazy about the ambiance of the downstairs area of Praline when it comes to lollygagging over a newspaper, and the baguettes are purchased from The Baguette Factory in Vienna, but the early hours and the pastries are enough of a draw to come here and enjoy breakfast, I hadn’t been to TIA QUETA since the 1980s, and now I remember why, it’s a charming little cantina with a rooftop deck, but the atmosphere is where it all ends, you’ll start with a basket of round, industrial tortilla chips served with a salsa that was made - or perhaps I should say “opened” - earlier in the day, Queso Fundido ($5.95) was an intensely herbaceous, gelatinous blob of gooey cheese and sausage bits, served in a hot mini-skillet, but with the same lousy chips, Crema de Frijoles Negros ($3.25) was thin, watery, and bland, the most palatable dish was the Puerco Yucateco ($13.95) which was fairly large chunks of pork (it’s difficult to ruin chunks of pork) in a citrus-based tomato sauce and a little pile of refried beans adorned with, guess what, yep, two of those same lousy chips, and then there’s Palena, the tonic for whatever culinary atrocities might have recently been thrust upon you, the front room was slammed at 7:30 on a Saturday night, and burger-after-burger was coming up from the kitchen, as good as the burgers are at Palena (and they are indeed the best in town), it pains me to see people continuing to order them at the expense of all the other glorious dishes here, dishes which show Palena in all its florid splendor, dishes which work out to only $15 each based on the five-course menu, dishes such as Tartar of Wild Long Island Rockfish, with citrus, capers and olivada crostini, an astoundingly refreshing first course with a hefty portion of rockfish that tasted like it had been in the sea just hours before, there were only several fried capers but they were ridiculously good, the Charcuterie ($14) this evening was outside the norm, two terrines with Scottish hare and pork liver, served with a fantastic polenta and an amazing side dish of mostarda and marinated greens, and then came what was arguably my favorite dish of the night, basically a bowl of Pho under the guise of Petite Pot Au Feu, a consomme containing brisket, veal tongue, crepes (for the noodles), slivers of foie gras and fall vegetables, the consomme alone could have made my knees buckle, but the dish as a whole was easily Michelin two-star quality, I just sat there shaking my head in disbelief while eating it, and then the polar opposite arrived, a bowl of Pumpernickel Bread Soup, a rustic soup made with house cured cabbage, homemade pumpernickel bread, a round of housemade testa in the center, and a drizzle of fonduta, it was a fascinating, hearty soup, and to this day I can’t quite figure out what it was based on, if I can find any fault in Palena’s cooking, I can sometimes find it in the fish dishes, and though the Merluzzo (Mediterranean Hake) may have been the weak link of the evening, that’s like saying someone finished in fifth place in the Olympics, it was served with honshimeji mushrooms, cardoons, and most importantly, razor clams, that having been said, the Spanish Loup de Mer and Gulf Shrimp was a stunning piece of fish, slow braised in olive oil (yeah, baby!), and seasoned with homemade fennel pollen and rosemary, served with fennel, glazed turnips and figs, I only got a taste of this dish and wish I had ordered one for myself, and of course nobody’s life is complete without venison, Forest and Farm is pan-roasted New Zealand venison with a generous slab of housemade bacon, served with a fan-tas-tic duchesse potato, braised red cabbage, and a prune-Armagnac sauce, I was waving the white flag when it came time for dessert, and mercifully received Ann Amernick’s Peanut Butter and “Jelly”, a small plate of peanut-butter truffles (really, a dollop of homemade peanut butter sitting atop peanut cookies), and served alongside pear pâtes de fruit, I ended up rolling out of Palena, stuffed to the gills, and as I was driving home I thought to myself that so many people calling themselves “chef” should be ashamed to use that term, they should be ashamed when culinary artistry is capable of being produced at this level by someone who neither seeks the limelight nor insists on stamping an oversized ego onto his work, by someone who chooses to remain behind the scenes, quietly cooking and composing dishes unlike anyone else, by someone who is revered by his peers and who will long be remembered as one of the most talented and hardest-working cooks Washington DC has ever known, the great master, Chef Frank Ruta, how was your week.

neighborhood gatherings, not regional assemblies. Plus I have my swat team working on something more visually appealing than "NG" for a prefix. ]

This is not the "juicy gossip" referred to last week, but I've just heard a rumor that Proximo Restaurants has their sights set on three Los Angeles area hotel restaurants within the next couple of years, and that Jorge Chicas, head chef at Zaytinya, may be heading west. Also that Katsuya Fukushima - Chef de Cuisine at Cafe Atlantico and part of Promixo's "Delta Force" - may eventually be spending some time there also. This is unsubstantiated, but the source was fairly credible, so if any journalists or bloggers want to investigate further... Cheers, Rocks.

Lest you think sake can't become heat-damaged, I submit as evidence exhibit A: the EIGHTY DOLLAR bottle of Wakatake Daiginjo "Onikoroshi" that I bought last year at Daruma in Bethesda. This isn't sake; it's bukkake.

I guaranTEE Tom's piece of gossip isn't as juicy as what I heard today. Wow. And nobody has asked me to keep anything quiet yet, either...

Who does more for music knowledge, Britney Spears or Yo-Yo Ma?

[Let's have one ongoing thread per neighborhood - doesn't matter how many there are. Cheers, Rocks.]

The Olive Garden wine buying team.

Hellish January column fff (finally fucking finished), pretty much. Donny Rocks is going to be drinking well tonight, my brethren! If anyone sees me in a gutter at 3 AM, just throw a blanket on top of me.

I would go to all three.

I may start issuing insta-reviews of new places just so Tom and Todd stop. Those two are better served being the critics of record, not being first out of the block. Tom's review of Le Paradou should be a model for him to follow in the future. A police officer once told me, "you can't outrun a radio," and I think the public would benefit if Tom and Todd would both stop trying to do so. Not to mention that restaurants wouldn't be putting on the 90-day push, only to drastically change when the initial review season has ended. Who cares how good BLT is right now? It's six months from now that really matters. And print journalists have only one shot to get it right. Best for them to be leisurely and accurate than quick-to-the-draw and wrong. Cheers, Rocks.

Say it ain't so.

[Yep!] (I see you heard from Amber Pfau today also.)

Sunday nights are a good choice to visit Ray's The Steaks, since Ray’s The Classics is closed that evening, there’s a good bet you’ll see Michael Landrum here, seafood-based appetizers here were better under the skilled supervision of Michael Hartzer, but the Hanger Steak ($19.95) was as it always is, long-aged, flavorful, and perfect with Bearnaise sauce as a foil, order it rare or medium-rare tops, the housemade bread here is always a pleasant surprise, it’s critical function being to sop up whatever sauce is left while tearing through your meal, Ray’s The Steaks remains one of the quirkiest and most important neighborhood restaurants in town, a destination and a local treasure, even when Buck’s Fishing and Camping misses, it misses honorably, Buck’s “World Famous” Mussels ($18) are as good as it gets in these parts, usually mussels sitting on top are dry, and ones in the bottom have drowned in a pool of whatever, but these seem almost individually brushed, Crispy Cornmeal Oysters with Creamy Spinach and Dill-Lime Mayonnaise ($22) were too thickly coated and not hot enough, and the Mayonnaise was too acidic and dominating, but the oysters themselves were great as always, Wood-Grilled Fresh Shrimp and Spicy Sausages with Byrd Mill Grits ($25) tasted too much of char, but the grits were world-beating, nobody makes better cakes than Greenwood, and the Very Good Chocolate Cake ($9) was a rich, evil ganache-like thing that could take down Grendel, but the amazing Caramel Apple Cake ($9) is what I’ll be ordering again, Buck’s can get expensive, but it’s always honest and satisfying, even on the occasion when it isn’t excellent, and nobody supports local, sustainable farming more than Carole Greenwood, “No, no, no,” you have to get the SUPER Grilled Cheese, a friend once told me, after I groused about the lousy grilled cheese sandwich at the old Stoney’s Bar and Grill, so this time, I did, despite it’s dubious location across from Whole Foods on P Street, the new Stoney’s still manages to carry a pretty nice, even a semi-divey, feel to it, the beer selection is well worth investigating, and if you can accept that you’re eating American cheese, the Super Grilled Cheese ($7) really is a great sandwich, made with onions and bacon on thickly sliced Uptown Bakers bread, the very friendly, loquacious Tony Harris has been co-owner of Stoney’s since 1968 (he also co-owns Tunnicliff’s on Capitol Hill, by the way), and he insists that the large uncut blocks of American cheese he gets are vastly superior to the pre-cut, pre-wrapped versions, fortunately the sandwich is also available with cheddar which is what I’ll get on mine next time, the French fries are what you’d find in a bowling alley, I had nearly written off Willow based on two previous visits, but no longer, when I dipped the Fried Fontina and Proscuitto Fritters ($8) in their tomato and smoked-paprika fondue, I nodded to myself in approval, but things kept getting even better, if you’re looking for a great gnocchi dish, look no further than the Potato Gnocchi and Little Neck Clam Gratin ($9), Tracy O’Grady’s riff on clam chowder that’s elevated through the ceiling, spiked with potato, sweet garlic, parmesan and chervil, and served with a couple thin pieces of grilled ciabatta for dunking, this dish was so good that I’ll go back just for a double-order with a glass of Entre-Deux-Mers ($8), while the complex potato-wrapped rockfish entrée ($24) was another winner, with its endless strand of potato spooled around the fish keeping in heat and moisture, the highlight of the meal may have been the outstanding server Yves, a gentleman who worked for Gerard Pangaud for five years, dating all the way back to the days of the Ritz-Carlton in Pentagon City, it was a hearteningly good showing for Willow, which is now fully and squarely back on my radar, I always pull for the little guy, and I almost got up and did a little dance when I tasted my Vialone Risotto ($16 for a half-order) at David Craig, made with lobster, prosciutto, artichokes, fava beans, and parmesan, it’s as good as it sounds, all the pastas here are housemade, and the Wild Mushroom and Ricotta Ravioli ($14 for a half-order) was a bowlful of good, firm, al dente ravioli sitting atop a pool of brodo spiked with parmigiano reggiano and charred rosemary butter, the pastas here are not optional, and on this evening they fared better than the main courses, the better of which was a Whole Roasted, Herb Crusted Loup de Mer ($26), served with braised fennel, local (?) tomatoes, and a caper beurre blanc, it was very good fish that I’d order again, but I can’t help but feel this could have been outstanding and it wasn’t, the big miss of the evening was the Braised Veal Cheeks ($26), enormous, garlic-ridden cheeks sitting atop a parmesan semolina gnocchi which came across as stolid and dull, sitting in a dark veal reduction which was too citric and bitter for its own good, so it was a mixed evening for David Craig, but good enough overall so that I’ll happily return, and I’ll be supporting an independently owned business instead of a soulless, corporate chain when I do, I always cringed whenever I walked into Oyamel and saw the “little old ladies” making tortillas in the Station Of Exploitation, Oyamel is gone, and so are the little old ladies, but now we have Roberto Donna himself in their stead, putting on a show for the customers at Bebo Trattoria, bar service has graduated from indifferent to clueless, with my bartender insisting that my Risotto of the Day ($13.50) was made with pistachio and gorgonzola, even when the orange-colored rice was sitting right in front of him (it was made with butternut squash, mascarpone, and pork sausage, and would have been very good had it not been overcooked), the Veal Scallopini ($15.50) is a satisfying dish, and a better deal than the Polpettini ($12) which come out to three dollars for each small meatball, the wine list at Bebo is fantastic, full of well-chosen, well-priced wines, and would be reason alone to come here even if the food weren’t as good as it is, as I was sitting at the bar, I couldn’t help contrasting Roberto’s smiling stage show with what was really happening in the kitchen: Amy Brandwein was in there yelling, sweating, orchestrating a small army of line cooks, and handling so many dishes that she looked like she was playing some sort of amped-up speedball-induced hypersonic version of Whack-A-Mole, make no mistake about it, this is Roberto’s restaurant, but on this night the kitchen was 100% Amy Brandwein, as I was walking out, I knocked on the window and waved hello to a friend, then walked past a neighboring restaurant, the one with Chino’s picture in the window, and thought to myself how refreshing it was to see someone as famous and talented as Chef Donna present and accounted for at his restaurant, how was your week.

If you like the pies at Cassatt's, you can get the exact same ones ("Ram's Kiwi Pies," they're called) at Arax Café - an Armenian bakery / ice-cream-shoppe / coffee-house down on Washington Blvd, just down from the original Lebanese Taverna. Arax serves them a la carte (to go if you'd like), and charges $5.25 for them. Cheers, Rocks.

The cream always rises to the top.

More importantly, I'm still undefeated.

I strongly disagree and will, in fact, go a step further: All cats should be fed only organic foods and free-range meats. That way, when you fricassee them you won't be getting all those harmful additives in your system. Cheers, Rocks.

I would try Firefly.

Yes it's possible

Ms. Rodier was the Maitre d' at the original L'Auberge Chez Francois. She also opened Jacqueline's on M Street, and Nicolas in the Mayflower Hotel. Ms. Rodier passed away last Tuesday. Todd Kliman has written a remembrance of her here.

[speculation... brief respite.]

Here's your weight-loss plan: You can eat anything you want each day, but you have to wait until the above .pdf file downloads into Adobe Acrobat first. Damn_The_Triglycerides_Full_Speed_Ahead.pdf

My My Stretch, I want to say this to you It was me it's my shame Mini Bites I'm to blame Because my notes aren't full reviews I chose this term which lit your fuse And yes I will add although it's not right I fucked your sister up the ass last night.