Waitman

I'm not even going to give it a second look until Nadya signs off.

Ah, different wavelength. We've usually on a "big night out, lets get something good" program and so looking for something a little more elegant. Though if Full Kee had beer...

I beg to differ. Perhaps they keep later hours when there are MCI events, but a quick buzz thgrough open table and a couple of websites certainly makes it appear very difficult to get something beyond mini-burgers and tapas (go Jaleo!) in that 'hood after 10 PM on a weeknight. Certainly we've called the Zatinyas and Postes of the world on the way out of the KC and gotten the old "if you can order in 15 minutes" spiel, which generally foreshadows an unfortunate dining experience. I'll always treasure the way the windex at Bistro d'Oc - as they wiped down the other table around us -- added a new layer of experience to their fine french food.

I'm not going to say that no one from Roanoke can actually be super hip -- but I will grant that nobody who calls themseleves "super hip" can actually be super hip. I cut them a little slack because, if I lived in Roanoke, I'd be pretty stoked to get a decent meal at someplace like Rasika's too. (You know, every time I end up at a "hip" restaurant or even most clubs, I always seem to end up surrounded by young-ish lawyers, Hill staffers and GS12's in boring clothes, trading business cards. "Geez," I'll whine to Stephanie, "these people are no hipper than me." I'm calling on all you younger DR folks [it's too late for me] to get working on your haircuts and attitudes. Next time I'm in Penn Quarter and everybody looks bussed in from Manasses or like they're in a "Young Professionals Networking Alliance," there's likely to be trouble.)

Who would admit to going to see Coldplay in a public forum? (Back on topic) Suprised Kliman didn't figure out himself the challenge of noshing before an event and then dining properly afterwards -- there are damn few restaurants open late. Mrs. B and I often try to get out after the Symphony and, at 10:30 on Friday night we're pretty much limited to BdC, Bistro Francaise, Notti Bianchi and Circle Bistro. I can't imagine what would be available at 11 or 11:30 on a Wednesday. Now, we've had lovely meals in CB et al, but it would be nice -- since we don't get out much -- to have a few more good places to choose from.

Cooking a good omelette is about 100 times more difficult than cooking risotto. And, with a good buzz on, ten times more rewarding. Back in the day, when I lived just on the Dupont side of the P Street Bridge, I'd occasionally stagger home from Garret's (sp?) past the 7-11 on the Georgetown side of the bridge and pick up all the sleazy makings of a late night omelette. God damn those things are good.

Marcel's.

You get the fish, fail to look it over, decide it sucks, freeze it and then trot back to the store days (weeks?) later and demand a refund and you're amazed that they didn't fall all over themselves to throw money back at you? I'd be a little skeptical, too, if I was management. A suggestion -- for anyone near Great Wall, in Virginia - -get your fish there. The thing's swimming until the moment you buy it. Even on the second day, it will be the freshest snapper you ever snapped. Cheap, too. Don't forget to tip the guy who guts it for you.

Mrs. B makes an inspired version, on occasion. More important, though, don't you mean pumpernickle and not rye?

Montmartre? French, on the Hill, cozy. I don't think it's the best Indian Food in the city -- though I think it is very good Indian Food -- but the Bombay Club oozes subdued elegance. If you don't think Bis is ever really quiet, I'm having a hard time picturing anything on Penn Quarter that will do -- maybe one of those rooms in Zola? Or Paradou?

At least we now know why Landrum is so cranky.

Someone once gave me a hard time for praising Fat Tire, not obscure enough, I guess. But when I lived in Denver I loved the stuff.

VACE!

Whole. Looks cooler and I don't want to get little bits of raw garlic in my drink.

My notes call for three cloves of garlic and twelve sprigs dill per liter. It should sit at least a week and can go as long as you want (Marcus Samuelsson at Acquavit says to wait at least six weeks, but I get impatient), and you can taste and adjust at will. (No other flavorings, Heather)

I once made a liter of garlic/dill acquavit. It made a hell of a bloody Mary and later became so addictive that I started drinking it iced, out of small glasses.

I spent a few days in Boston and came away impressed more by the expense than the quality. That being said, a couple of courses in No. 9's cafe were spectacular (gnocchi with truffles, steak tartar) and the chef dropped by the table to say howdy and sent out a bite. I imagine the dining room would be well worth the expense. Do NOT go to the Union Oyster House for Dinner. Go at an off time, sit at the historic bar (where Daniel Webster sat) for oysters and beer, and then go someplace good for dinner. More here.

Chosing a restaurant is like an algebra equation. On the one side, you have the quality of the food and the graciousness of the service, plus your own random variable (which explains why so many of us like BdC and, indeed, Rays) and craving factor (must have pork belly). On the other side there is the expense and the hassle factor, including making and confirming reservations, parking, getting there, having to give up your table at a time certain and so on. You add up both sides, and you make your call. We all have our buttons. I almost never eat at places that don't take reservations because I loathe standing in line, for example. Someone else doesn't like having to call to confirm -- they're not necessarily assholes (though complaining about it on line raises suspicions). There are a thousand restaurants in this town, one for almost everybody.

with a little careful shopping you can get two quite swell bottles of wine (I'll bet Riley would recommend something) which, given your level of alcohol tolerance ,would keep you buzzed for a week.

Head down to the docks at Maine Ave. All the bivalves you can steam!

Thor gets tired of hanging out in Vlahalla and decides to go clubbing one Friday night. Being a Norse deity and all he is in the arms of a comely brunetter within minutes and back at her place within the hour. They go at it hammer and tong for hours, days even, until finally during a smoke break he remembers his manners and decides to introduce himself. "I just wanted to let you know, I'm Thor," he says. "You're thore? I'm tho thore I can hardly pith."

Wimp.

Window seats at BdC. Onion soup.

That you have a mustache onyour face, a puka shells around your neck, seeds in your dope and, when you're making your move on some "fine lady," America or Seals and Crofts on your turntable. Diamond Girl, sure shine Diamond Girl, glad you're mine....

The Fox, unfortunately, has TV's on every wall these days, making it one of the most annoying barrooms in the city. I'd go to the Raven, though, or maybe Nanny O'Briens. I might stumble by Biddy's in the ex-Dupont Circle Hotel (don't know what it is, now). In its previous incarnation, Stephanie's, the floor to ceiling windows offered a spectacular view of the circle in the snow. Don't know about now. Tabard and the fire are an obvious choice; maybe The Fireplace for a gas fire and a rousing singalong with the boys (free associating here); the bar at 2 Amy's because maybe it won't be a fucking zoo for a change; anyplace with Pho.