Nadya

A reservation for two on Wednesday night of this RW. All kinds of special requirements: nice table, celebrating anniversary, birthday, newlyweds, successful lobotomy, 20 years since ratification of SALT II and the kitchen sink. Bring some wine, flowers and card to table (all paid for.) Table for two, I repeat, for two. The party arrives, dressed to fourty-nines. "Hi! We have a reservation under XXXX. Oh, it's now going to be four." "Madam, I don't have a table for four and won't for the next 45 minutes." "But..but it's my birthday! And I really want to be with my friends on my birthday!" "Madam, your reservation was for two. I don't have a table for four and won't for the next 45 minutes. It's Restaurant Week." Glare full of seething anger directed at person at host stand. Attempts to push out a rather generous cleavage trying, in vain, to impress my manager who doesn't care. Polite smile with no teeth showing blooming on face of person at host stand. Attempts to square shoulders demonstrating perfect posture of Right Is On My Side. "Okay...I guess we will have to go some place else and my birthday is ruined." "I regret that, Madam, we are rather full tonight." Generous cleavage walking away, close to sobbing, in direction of bar, suddenly turning around. Here comes the kicker, folks: "Am I still going to get my OpenTable points???? Even if I don't dine here tonight? All you have to do is press the button, right??"

Danny, I can't effing believe you were being so saintly! Leaving the restaurant in the middle of the night to guide two arseholes! You are my hero.

Just another voice of praise for Tosca's pastas. You may think the appeal of great pastas is limited to cold, wintry days when one longs to be nourished by butter and starch; yet no soul of true pasta lover can be left unperturbed with what Tosca churns out. A week ago a friend and I hit Tosca on a Saturday night. Many details are now hazy in mind thanks to excellent wine suggestions of Darling Kathy Morgan and demolition-derby Restaurant Week, but I keep swooning to the memories of ricotta ravioli with sage, butter and raisins shamelessly pilfered from my friend's plate, and my very own rabbit pasta concoction. I can't wait for the fall and winter. I can't wait to have a miserable, long, painfull practice full of falls on cold ice - so that I can walk my bruised bottom into Tosca's door, settle comfortably on a barstool, and cheer myself up with fantastic pasta.

Hi Cathal, thanks for visiting! I am sorry I didn't have a chance to work with you, and I assure you that Legends of Cathal are still percolating at Bis. I ate at Eve twice at the bistro and once in the dining room, and think you are doing a fantastic job of making diners feel nourished by food and loved by service and ambience. With Todd's studboltly status, Eve sounds more seductive than ever. Am coming to eat at the bistro on Saturday night and very excited! To build on the previous question, can you talk a bit about places and people at DC's dining landscape that you consider notable? Who do you like? Who do you not like? What are the fortunate/unfortunate trends that you see around here? If relatives from Ireland was visiting and wanted to see what DC restaurants are all about in the space of one week, what program would you design for them? Thank you!

Nadya will be working tonight and tomorrow night. On Friday night, she will be enjoying her very own RW dinner - the only exception made after careful deliberation to overrule blanket boycotting of other RW venues. So....Ferhat baby, whatchy'all cookin' for Restaurant Week?? Yeah, you guessed right. That's where No need to answer, really

That's a great idea, I'll try it out tonight as I'm sure there's more where this came from. Hope to post a new story every night.

It's August 2005. And looking at the post above, it comforts my little heart to know one can always rely on certain events (such as Restaurant Week) to bring out certain reactions from certain people. So my phone rings at around 7.30 pm, when we have about 25 people to seat. And the customer wants to find out what our RW menu is. His timing, as you should know by now, is ^&(*&^ impeccable. "What are your specials for RW?" "Two entrees, rockfish provencale and chicken l'ancienne." "Tell me about your chicken." "It's a sauteed breast with braised leg with spinach, button mushrooms, lardons, dijon mustard and tarragon jus." "Okay...I'm really not on top of that...let me put my wife on the line, do you mind repeating it to her??" Loud sound of gritting teeth working my molars into bleeding stubs. "Why, I'd be happy to. Sorry about the sound, an awful lot of static on this line. Madam? Our chicken is a sauteed breastwithbraisedlegwithpinachshroomslardonsjonmustardtarragonjus." "Tarragon jus?" "Tarragon jus." "Is this, like, the sauce on top of the chicken?"

[Posted on eGullet in January 2005] If you like to eat out, But hate to be on hold when you call, If you are mostly a restaurant patron, But have enough imagination to understand what it's like to work there, Then for the love of Jesus, Mary, and all his apostols and cherubs, Take some advice from the person on the other end of this phone call, AND DO NOT CALL FOR A RESERVATION DURING DINNER RUSH OF RESTAURANT WEEK! Dinner rush happens at 6-9 pm, and lunch rush between 11.45 and 1.30 pm. And especially don't call during dinner rush hours and ask me to read out all the menu choices. Before you pick up the phone and call during these hours, this is what I would like you to visualize: I am standing by the host station, smile fixed in place, list of tables in my mind. We have over two hundred reservations on the book. At any given moment, there are at least eight people lined up in front of me who are waiting for their turn to be seated. Six more are walking into the door and need to be greeted, asked for the names, checked against the list, offered to take their coats, and dispatched to their assigned tables when their turn comes. Four more are walking out of the dining room and want to collect their coats and share their experiences. Ten more are on the waiting list milling at the bar and want to make eye contact every fifteen minutes to be reassured that their tables are indeed coming up. The second host is taking people to their tables as efficiently as possible without breaking into a trot, collecting menus and wine lists from the dining room, checking on progress of tables, adjusting the tables for the last-minute changes of party of 8 to 6, and trying to respond to a million requests as best she or he can. And we both like what we do and are reasonably good at it. And we need to remain cheeful and composed while we do it. This is exactly what is happening NON-STOP, without a break, during dinner and lunch rush hours of the Restaurant Week. The phone, meanwhile, is ringing off the hook. When I answer the phone, I usually put you on hold first because there are usually guests in front of me who need something, and I can't very well put THEM on hold while I read out the menu choices to you. This is why you will likely have to wait on hold for minutes on end, and if you don't hang up in frustration, you are likely already stressed by the time I can answer. Your calling experience is also likely to be "enhanced" further by being put on hold - yet again - in the middle of our conversation - because see above - there are constantly people coming to my station who are right in front of me and they all need me to make eye contact and do something for them - as soon as possible - unless we want to create a Cheesecake Factory-style crowd in the waiting area. And we don't. And oh, you will likely have to speak at the top of your voice. Because don't you know, the noise level near the phone is easily rivaling Gravelly Point. Now, I have a fabulous manager who sometimes steps in to bail us out with the phones during dinner rush. But that's the exception. Answering the phones is really not what managers do. He's got his hands full. It's Restaurant Week. And it's only Tuesday night! Is this really something that you want to do? Is this really an experience you want to have? So please do us all a favor. Call outside of dinner and lunch rush. How hard can it be?

I was looking forward to this RW and tried to pick a few places to book, but a little something held me back. Then, as of last Wednesday, we had around 200 covers on the books for dinner EVERY NIGHT this week, and I will manage seating on three of them. I had an epiphany. I am staying the hell away from RW places until it is over. Will give my dinin' dollars to Popeyes if I have to. Sorry if I offended anyone. RW brings out my outbursts like nothing else.

Last Saturday, I had planned a dinner in the company of three people. This was no ordinary date night dinner. Because instead of enjoying my food, my companion and a bit of footsie, my mission this time was to impress the hell out of two of them, a 60-something couple who had every reason in the world to scrutinize me. Enough said. So, for that reason, I needed to pick a place that had to be many things at once. Classy. Non-threatening. Quality. Non-crowded. Non-tainted by The Trendy People. Soothing. In short, something that would paint me as a woman of style and sophistication yet not someone who's unbearably fabulous. Corduroy hit home on all counts. Ferhat, Rissa and Chef Power all moved seamlessly to deliver a smooth, terrific, no-nonsense evening of great food and gracious service. The Evening Star: Lamb with mini goat cheese raviolis. This was a rare dish where the side shines as brightly as the centerpiece. My lamb was cooked perfectly medium rare in a simple sauce that gently enhanced its flavor yet did not interfere with the purity of taste. Goat cheese raviolis were simply fantastic in their homey, warm, comforting taste that had me mop up the plate clean. They also made it very difficult to keep my lovely, accommodating smile affixed firmly in place when I had to share a few forkfuls with Parties Who Needed to be Impressed. My longing gaze may have said it all. Other highlights: Beet and goat cheese salad. A dish that unfortunately has been picked up by many a clueless kitchen. I guess it sounds easy to make, but in my experience it's really easy to screw up, too. The Corduroy version was clean, flavorful and perfectly proportioned. Chocolate sabayon. I believe this dish has been already gushed over, but I feel compelled to do it again, because of its beautiful texture and incredible intensity of flavor where chocolate, not sugar, was a star. Fantastic service. Great wine recommendation, light hand, warmth, smoothness. Thanks again to Tom, Rissa and Ferhat for a beautiful evening that earned me many reputation points on one of the few days when I really needed it.

Does anyone know a Really Good Bakery in the DC area? I'm planning a menu for my birthday party, and even though I had baking ambitions to begin with, I'm looking over the menu right now and there's no way in hell I can cook AND bake for 30 ppl AND keep my looks and spirits as a hostess at least serviceable. So. Need to find a place where I can get desserts worthy of the rest. Will probably be looking for things like coffecake or streusel, not overly creamy or chocolatey. Will also need fancy brunch-y bread assortments for the table, so if I can get both, that'd be very convenient. Please help me out with suggestions, oh you who know better. Thanks a lot.

Jesus...what a triumph to obscurity, mediocrity and I don't know....lazy-ass researchers at FTV??

Muahaha. Do you suppose in the unlikely event I can show up for any on-a-whim gatherings, I should skip around the lounge on one foot, wrapped in my egullet avatar pretzelwoman pose? Muahaha.

Believe it or not, bubba, but Drew Trautmann at Sonoma told me the wild boar they use for their popular sausage with bucatini is sourced from my Mutterland, Mamita Russia, via one of the specialty purveyor. Since then, I've been having nightmares of uniformed D'Artagnan hunters descending upon wild forests in the heartland of Russia, guns and nets a-blazin', and innocent little wild piglets (kabanchiki!) peeling away, shrieking, wiggling their little bottoms and curly tails...brings tears to my eyes.

If Komi were a man, I’d stay with him forever. Not for good looks. Not for sublime attention to detail. Not for the kissyface. I’d do it for the incredibly consistent delivery of gastronomic experiences that are never predictable but always wonderful. You never know what’s coming, but you always leave giddy with delight. In short, Komi would be a kind of man who would blindfold me, tie me up, say “trust me”…and I would, with no hesitation. That’s love, baby. Last Saturday night, a friend and I put ourselves in the capable and brilliant hands of Chef Monis and the Fabulous Sebastian. The royal treatment began at the sole window table saved just for us. All the better to enjoy fabulous food and wine, knowing the high-heeled you and your handsome friend make an enviable picture for the Dupont denizens and clueless tourists slowing their stride to gaze at Where The Beautiful People Eat. The menus were handed out and promptly snatched away as we both went for the tasting menu. (I haven't been killing myself at the gym all these hours for nothin'.) And so I begin. A gigamoto oyster with crème fraiche and pomegranate vinegar. My first gigamoto was a delight – refreshing and acidic enough to arouse the senses yet with enough flesh for a few bites unlike its lesser siblings that just slide down your throat. Note again the best presentation in town – a single oyster with a wee dollop of crème fraiche nestled on top of a grainy block of ice rising out of a white napkin. Minimalist, pure and stunning. Watermelon with feta cheese and wild arugula with spiced crushed hazelnut and olive oil. This great little teaser is a perfect example of Chef Monis pairing the unconventional with terrific results – the flavors of every single ingredient are so pure and combine so well in your mouth without melting into each other. Spinach gnocchi with pancetta and browned butter. Moving into serious food territory now. Can gnocchi be dainty, delicate and comforting at the same time? They can if they live at the bottom of Komi’s pasta bowls. Hardly half the size of my little finger, they arrive under paper-thin and crispy slice of pancetta in a simple sauce. They were my friend’s favorite. A steaming heap of these little darlings can surely bring one back to loving life on a miserable cold night. Dayboat scallop with braised oxtail and anchovy paste. Did I mention Johnny’s talent for combining the unpredictable? Bet you’d never think you can have scallops and oxtail in the same dish? But the bed of shredded oxtail was a fitting setting for a sweet, firm, perfectly cooked scallop flesh. For mains, we were delighted again by two different dishes – all the better to filch from each other’s plate, to spoon-feed, to trade forkfuls, to and ooh and aah. My friend had the guinea hen with figs and foie gras, a beautiful concoction of flavors that were meant for each other. My main took my breath away. As if I didn’t just down five courses, I got a steaming plateful of roast suckling pig with brussel sprouts. I urge you to schedule a trip to Komi as soon as possible, and when you make your res, mention in a trembling, obsequious voice that you heard they are serving suckling pig and could they please reserve one for you? It’s tender. It’s cooked for six hundred hours over mesquite and something else (that slipped my boozy memory at the time) to intensify the flavor. It’s falling off the bone. The aroma could drive you to tears. It is also a perfect showcase for JM’s genius of extracting every last drop of flavor from an ingredient. Desserts were 1) milk chocolate semifreddo with ginger cannolli and bitter chocolate sauce for me, and 2) gelato with lemon shortbread for him. The desserts at Komi are getting even better thanks to pastry chef Robert Underwood, and for those of you who can’t make a dinner trip, consider stopping by for desserts and cheese. The combo of sinfully thick dark sauce and delicate semifreddo works very well, and adorable wee cannolli add texture to an otherwise very smooth dish. I haven’t tasted gelato – no room! – but it looked delightful as well. Desserts at Komi always make me wish I didn’t just have six courses and have more stomach capacity. Why no commentary on wine? Because I am a big ole lightweight, easily boozed up, who gratefully downed but never remembered Sebastian’s delightful selections – something I’m regretting as we speak. But sparkling, white, two reds and a dessert wine both made an appearance. Next time, I’m bringing pen and bloody paper. Service was impeccable as always, napkins folded, plates and glasses delivered and whisked away with a kind of quiet, competent magic with a few well-placed flourishes that Sebastian and team (especially assistant manager Anna) do so well, that looks easy but takes tremendous skill. Time and again, Komi delivers evenings to remember fondly and look forward to, the sort of experiences where you never know what’s coming, but you know you’ll leave happy, the kind of experiences that you love to share with the closest friends. I can’t wait to go back. And if it were a man….but you know that already.

Watch this space. As soon as I return from my skull-numbing staff meeting, this post will be replaced by more gushing of Komi.

A glass of water. Do you have any idea how hard it is to make it without throwing up? Surely is not natural for the sun to be so bright so early in the morning.

Hmmm. So can I link directly to my hard drive, or would I need to upload them to be available online? Can any of the resident genuises help me with this?

Emoticons not working??? Well, I'd be blasted. Once I'm done beating my head against the wall, I'll sink into one million depressions. But then...I'll get on the phone with Mutterland. And pay lots of Not working again? Pffft. Maybe I need to go all evil on someone. Maybe it's a secret hand of the Invisible Force? Maybe someone got tired of my two-faced postings? But I am hopeful that the resident genuises will finally figure it out so we can stop playing the same old same old . And everyone will go

One million depressions.

Want to throw two cents for Bistro Lepic that provided many opportunities to smooch and impress. Very grown up and has the whole French wine bar thing going on. Plus it is sort of off the beaten path, so a date tends to be impressed when you come up with this (seemingly impromptu) idea.

Oooh, I imagine putting someone on hold and getting back to them only to hear an automated recording: "You have exceeded Tom Sietsema's personal piss-off time limit. Have a nice day!"

Are you looking for a place to drink and smooch or for a place to eat and do same?

Hi Tom, First, I wanted to thank you for being such a delightful and intelligent writer. So many restaurant reviewers simply lack the writing talent and make the most intriguing restaurant sound like the recitation of the multiplication tables. Second, thank you for including my gripe about people who call for Restaurant Week reservations during dinner rush hours, it earned me lots of points I would adore it if you could comment on what isn't really a question but an observation about your work that I heard from one of the major restaurateurs in town. He said that he loves your restaurant review column for the same reason that many of us do. At the same time, he felt that in your Wednesday chat, you shift roles and become a sort of a consumer/customer advocate instead of remaining an objective restaurant reviewer which he feels you should be. In this way, he believes your credibility suffers. What do you think? Second, can you think of a less pretentious equivalent of "foodie"? Finally - I am sure you dealt with this many times - how would you go about converting friends who see food as fuel to someone who can appreciate food for the joys it brings to the palate? Or do you feel that this sort of thing is in the blood? Thank you for visiting.

Kotobuki is a delight, and getting a seat there should be more difficult, especially on a bloomin' Friday night. (Rocks, the sound you just heard is me pushing my selfish wants and needs aside, and blowing the wee trumpet for the joint.) The menu is small but well-composed, striking a balance of traditional hot dishes like kamameshi and unadon, and smallish, classical sushi selection that relies on freshness and good cuts of the fish - not silly-daft nonsense of wrapping gorgonzola, Cheetos, bread crumbs and anchovies in seaweed and peddling it to the gullible as, say, a 10.95 "College Park Roll." My highlights were the scallop and toro nigiri, which shared a fresh, fatty, pure quality that "melting in your mouth" seems too pedestrian to capture. And I applaud casting my favorite eel as a star of the menu - conveniently featured in so many dishes so I can get my fix whatever I order. This place should be patronized and coddled so it doesn't go away. Please don't give your sushi dollars to a jackass on your block who wants to sell you another crazy concoction that offends the tastebuds and the eye. If you have a car, there really isn't any excuse in not going.