DonRocks

The following posts have been split into separate threads: Steamers Seafood House (brr) Hunter's Seafood (lackadaisi) Ernie's Original Crab House (ohstate)

Et voila.

The following postings have been split off into separate threads: Rock Creek (Demvtr)

Does anyone besides me feel like they're smack dab in the middle of a Tarkovsky film? I don't mean watching it; I mean in it.

I have yet to get a straight answer on the difference between a fruit and a vegetable.

Sooner is better than later.

Last time I was at Terry's, he served me that Schloss Gobelsburg sparkling Gruner Veltliner double-blind. Okay, now in my lifetime, he has served me approximately 4,719 sparkling wines, and every single one of them has been a Champagne. What was I to think? Well, one thing I did notice is that the mousse wasn't that fine, meaning that the bubbles seemed a bit large, and they rose to the top of the glass quickly - not to the degree of some Cavas and Proseccos, which are often club-soda fizzy and coarse, but still enough so that I noticed. Nevertheless, I thought sure it was a Pinot Meunier-based Champagne of pretty high pedigree, mainly because it had this caroway thing going on in the nose. I loved the wine, and remember commenting that only a Champagne could be any better than this. Cheers, Rocks.

Some things in life make so much sense that you slap yourself and say, "Why didn't I think of that?" This seems like a brilliant move both for L'Academie de Cuisine and also for Gerard.

I had no idea Mark Hellyar (ex Chef de Cuisine at Nora) was back in town and sousing here.

The following posts have been split into separate threads: H.I. Ribsters (NotQuickDraw) Rocklands Barbecue and Grilling Company (JasonC)

I had thought about this previously. That can't possibly be the Wendy's they refer to - it has no drive-thru, virtually no parking, and even Kreskin wouldn't know to turn onto Veitch Street, much less to follow it all the way to Courthouse. Cheers, Rocks.

[i hadn't looked at this topic in a couple of days, but it was just brought to my attention. NO PERSONAL ATTACKS OF ANY TYPE ARE ALLOWED HERE. Thanks, Rocks.]

Good Monday morning everyone, I just sent out this email to everyone who hasn't signed on for the past year. If you've been viewing the website as a guest for longer than 12 months, how about signing on one time just to let us know you're still with us. Thanks, cheers, and don't get unsettled when the number of members drops by a couple hundred people. I'm not worried about numbers or statistics; merely keeping the community alive and vibrant. Rocks. --- Dear donrockwell.com member, If you're getting this email, it's because you haven't signed onto the website for the past year. In order to keep our membership list current and vibrant, we're going to be "pruning" members who don't sign on at least once a year. If you've forgotten your screen name or password, just flip an email to me at donrocks@donrockwell.com, and I'll write you back with the information (I'll need to reset your password if you've forgotten it). Just sign on sometime during the next few days, and you'll be good-to-go for another year. Thanks again for joining, and we miss you on the site. I hope to hear from you! Cheers, Rocks.

RJ, can you still cook off-menu for people here who want you to get super creative? What's the best way for people to request that, and how much does it normally cost? Cheers, Rocks.

What kind of lobster? Frozen or fresh? When was it last swimming? What part of the lobster? How is the roll prepared and where is it baked? What type of mayo? What type of celery? Any other type of seasonings or spices?

It had closed at 1 AM, unfortunately.

You may have noticed a new sign for Wendy's near the N. Lincoln Street overpass of I-66 eastbound, just before Exit 72, Spout Run Parkway. If the mere existence of this sign wasn't bad enough, once you've already committed to the exit ramp, there's a second sign concealed by a tree, basically saying "tee hee hee - it's 2.0 miles from here." Worse, it doesn't tell you which way you're supposed to turn! If you take a right, you'll be thrust into Rosslyn with no Wendy's to be found. So where is it? Incredibly, the sign is apparently for that nasty, decrepit Wendy's near the intersection of Lee Highway and George Mason Drive. You have to take a left onto Lee Highway, then fight two miles of traffic running opposite to the way you were coming from on I-66. On the way, you pass Pasha Café, Arrowine, Lebanese Taverna Market, Crisp and Juicy, Café Parisien Express, Heidelberg Bakery, and maybe a couple others I'm not thinking of, not to mention The Italian Store which is virtually at the bottom of the exit ramp in Lyon Village shopping center. To add insult to injury, there is no hint of any reentry onto I-66 eastbound from that Wendy's. You either need to continue down to Sycamore Street, or head back up to Glebe Road. Any way you slice this up, you're looking at a potential thirty-minute detour just to fight your way to some seriously disgusting food. Why did Wendy's get to have this billboard posted on I-66? Do they have some sort of contract with FHA? VDOT? Cheers, Rocks.

!

I had dinner at Circle Bistro this week, and came away more convinced than ever of one thing: If you go there for happy hour, and order just from the bar menu, you're cheating yourself. I sat at the bar, but ordered off the regular dinner menu: For a starter, I got the refreshing and elegant Sweet corn and yellow pepper soup, with Chesapeake crabmeat and basil oil ($7). For my main, I had what was simply one of the great dishes I've had this year: Line-caught Alaskan halibut, with glazed baby corn, Path Valley beets, and arugula pistou ($26). We justifiably revere the famous chefs in this town - Richard, Trabocchi, Ziebold, and a whole host of others are worthy of all the respect and awe we can heap upon them - however, I'd like to propose that nobody, but nobody, can possibly put together a fish dish that was any better than this. It was great! Is it always? Barry came out afterwards and basically said, 'if you come here on a slow night, we have the time to make it perfect.' All I know is this: it WAS perfect. Thank you Brendan for doing this chat! It's really nice to see your kitchen firing on all cylinders right now. Cheers! Rocks.

My friend and I were nursing a glass of sake when the rest of our party arrived. The GM came back to the table - a small, intimate six-top - and addressed them directly. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked. One of the new arrivals replied, "I think for now we'll get some glasses and have some sake." She looked as if my friend had just committed a crime. "You're going to share theirs?" With a slight shoulder shrug, he gave a simple, innocent answer. "Yes." Inexplicably, she returned with two more glasses for the three new guests. My friend asked, "Could we get one more glass?" "You want three glasses?" For the next few minutes, we had some sake and looked through the menu. A kaiseki was $60, and we had decided to get five of them. The chef himself then came over from the sushi bar, holding a pad of paper and a pen. "Are you ready to order?" We closed our menus, and said "we'll have five kaiseki menus," turning ourselves over to him. He didn't miss a beat. "Which kaiseki?" For a couple of seconds we weren't quite sure what he meant, but one of us asked, "What do you have?" Without any emotion, he stood there holding the pen up to the notepad, and said, "Eighty dollars, one hundred dollars, and one hundred ten dollars." It was an intensely uncomfortable moment. Not everyone in our dining party knew each other, but at that point we all knew one thing: We had reached a critical juncture in the meal. We had come to Sushi Kappo Kawasaki to dine, and to dine well. The way the chef phrased the question, it was clear that if we went low-end, we were getting table scraps. As the chef stood there, waiting, with pen pressed against notepad, our table fell silent for what seemed like an eternity. We took turns looking down, then looking at each other. Finally, one of us composed himself, and looked around toward the chef who was standing directly behind him. Politely, quietly, and with an almost sheepish deference, my friend said, "which one has the toro, the shima aji, the aori ika..." The chef blinked twice in succession but otherwise showed no response. After a few seconds of silent consideration, he looked down at my friend with the same stone-cold detachment that an assassin displays in the split-second before he pulls the trigger. "One hundred twenty dollars," he said.

Shortly after I sat down, the second person in our party arrived at the nearly empty restaurant. We finally got the GMs attention, and when she came over, I said we'd like to order a bottle of sake. Did they have any junmai daiginjo? She left and returned a few minutes later, with an angry look on her face. "We have one junmai daiginjo tonight." I nodded my head, meekly, waiting for more information. "It's two hundred forty dollars." A slight exhale of tension and an even slighter smile on my part. "That's too expensive. Do you have a list of sakes I could see?" She looked me right in the eye with scorn, shook her head, and said, "No." "What sakes do you have," I asked. She pointed at the bar, said "the ones over there," and then stormed away from the table. When she returned several minutes later, I asked her if she had any junmai ginjo, the next level down from junmai daiginjo. She said they had one, and walked away yet again. She came back several minutes later, this time holding a bottle. "This is the junmai ginjo. It costs one hundred eight dollars." Thinking about the rest of the evening, I didn't question any further. "Okay, we'll take it," I said. And take it we did. To be continued...

There will be Emmaus brochures at the dinners that people can take home with them - this way people can volunteer or donate at their leisure, if and when they choose. Cheers, Rocks.

I walked into a silent Sushi Kappo Kawasaki, empty except for one table. I waited a bit, and then wondering if I perhaps hadn't yet officially entered the restaurant, moved two steps closer to the bar. After a time, the GM approached. I had a reservation for five, I said, but my friends weren't here yet. "Name?" At that point, I fumbled around, saying something like, 'I'm not sure who called for the reservation, so I don't know which name it's un...' She leaned forward and said, angrily: "What?" This was not the type of 'what' that means, "Excuse me, but would you please repeat that?" This was as if I had walked up to her house on a Sunday afternoon, rang the doorbell, and said, "Maam, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I have some terrible news: I just ran over your dog with my pickup truck." "WHAT??" I didn't realize it at the time, or should I say I wasn't willing to accept it at the time, but there's no doubting it: This was a "Get the hell out of my restaurant" what. To be continued...

Those damned decal scrapers! They don't make them like they used to. India Curry House managed to scrape off every Queen Bee sticker from the inside of the window, but then the contraption must have broken right before they got a chance to scrape off the one that says "Zagat Rated 2006." Cheers, Rocks.

I was here last summer and couldn't quite figure out who owned the restaurant - it's a big, sterile place, but it didn't quite seem like a national chain. It turns out it's owned by Louis Cheng, who has owned Cheng's Oriental Restaurant since 1988. I can't vouch for the catered fare, but the dine-in food is what you might expect at a big, standalone, Tiki-themed restaurant sitting in the parking lot of a Sterling strip mall. Cheers, Rocks.