dmwine

Mikulski Rosé de Gamay Burgundy 2005. I had this at Hook and it was fantastic, but I can't seem to locate it at any of the usual retailers. Anyone familiar with it?

The Vineyard in McLean carries it.

Calvert Woodley currently has it for $9.99. And yes, it's very nice.

Very good prices, both, compared to Northern Virginia! I think this one is worthy of a write-up!

Flossy would mean stringy. Maybe there are cooked greens meant to be stringy, but I'm not registering what they might be.

My Webster's defines flossy as "downy, light, fluffy," so I think he's OK there. "Deems," ... no.

For people who are not familiar with Constellation Brands, this is the company that absorbed the Robert Mondavi winery several years ago when it tanked, including its lucrative Woodbridge division.

Ed Sands of Constellation told Marvin Shanken in a Wine Spectator interview shortly after the acquisition that Constellation wanted Mondavi specifically for the Woodbridge line, because it filled a (much needed) gap in their portfolio. They didn't care about the quality stuff.

Sad. So sad.

I second the rec for Aged Tawny Ports above. 10 year olds are fine, but they hit their stride at 20.

LBV - Late Bottled Vintage - ports are a possibility with chocolate, too.

And don't forget sherries - amontillado is moderately sweet, oloroso more so. PX (Pedro Ximenez, the grape) is very sweet, and some dessert sherries are made with Moscatel, which can be luscious. Lustau is a high quality bodega.

We ventured out to Monocacy Crossing in the once rural Urbana, where neither of us had been since the 1970s when the Peter Pan Inn stood amidst the corn fields serving up fried chicken that made KFC’s look like Michele Richard’s Central. It was well worth the trip.

My parents used to drag me to Peter Pan, up the old Highway 70S! I don't remember the food, just that they made me wear a damn clip on tie and that the waits were interminable .... Evans Farm Inn was SO much better. And closer, too.

OK, Hook's food is salty AND bland?

The snippet Mike posted from Jonathan Gold over in the deviled eggs thread reminded me of the Hook comments in Tom's chat:Whenever I hear a dish described as "bland," I wonder whether it actually needed seasoning or whether it just wasn't tarted up enough for our jaded, overseasoned palates. Why would a seafood place emphasizing the pristine quality of its wares be interested in tarting it up?

Gold's quote applies to American tastes in wine, too ... but then, you almost need a tarted-up wine to pair with the tarted-up food ...

Has anyone been here? It's supposed to be really good.

Eve Zibart and Todd Kliman have also written rave reviews. I live nearby and went several times after they opened, but haven't been for awhile. My seven-year-old walked in and went, "Ooooooh, stinky!"

As a young person I'm sympathetic to concerns that young diners might be treated with less than full respect at fine restaurants ....

I used to think my wife and I were getting this treatment at Kinkead's always stuck upstairs in the corridor to the bathrooms. Then I realized that was the only place they had two-tops! I stopped taking it personally after that, and just enjoyed myself.

Think Mark will wear the medal now instead of the tastevin?

And the Best Chef Mid-Atlantic, drum roll please ...

ETA: Or, at least one of them ...

Mark will probably slam me for posting this, but so be it. From DC magazine, April issue, which nobody reads, and with good reason:

How the hell am I supposed to put that in my mouth? The thought bubbled up as the waiter placed the hamburger before me. The meat was shaped more like a baseball than a patty, and the glistening, airy brioche bun added even more height. But the aromas of broiled beef, tangy cheddar and hickory-smoked bacon couldn't wait, so I tamped down the sandwich with the palm of my hand, hoisted it off the plate and opened wide.

Sploosh! The burger rolled nearly out the far side of the bun, the bottom portion of which was now sopping with juices and useless as a vehicle for conveying food from plate to palate. My date giggled, but she was lucky I'd had my pinkies in position to catch the burger or she'd have been wearing it. At the next table, Michel Richard shot me a quizzical look and a hand wiggle: Thumbs up? Thumbs down? Thumbs sideways?

I responded by holding up my knife and fork.

... with confusingly oily bread. Maybe they're using greasy hands to move the bread onto the burger.

It's called brioche. It's an inherently buttery bread.

Dave,

I remember having lunch with Jean-Louis Chave not too long ago and asking him the cepage of the Hermitage White. He said it was impossible to know the exact percentages of Rousanne-Marsanne because the vines were so old and they were mixed together. Re-planting is the only way to be absolutely certain about the vineyard make-up. I think most Cote-Rotie today from better producers still includes small percentages of viognier - 3-8%. The original AOC regulation allowing the 13 grape varieties in the South in Chateuaneuf-du-Pape was to accomodate the co-mingling of the vines in the field blend, is my understanding.

I believe you're right - and thanks for busting my chops over my careless use of the word "blend"! Considering I've just quit a paying publication because of errors they insisted on inserting into my articles, I should be more careful even in quick posts.

I love the so-called "field blends" - my favorite old zins are some of those cuvees where they don't really know what else is in there, or how much. And it makes for greater variety, which is always a good thing.

OK, I stand corrected. Picky maybe, but as it says in the link that Mark posted:

Gigondas is in the region of the Rhône Valley Côtes de Rhône wines, as well as having its own outstanding appellation, Gigondas. (my emphasis) I don't normally see a wine referred to as a Cotes du Rhone, Gigondas. But then I'm not an expert on French wines. I just know that I do have Cotes du Rhones, and I have some Gigondas.

However, I stand by my contention that it is unforgivable that there are no vintage dates on the list. I would expect that from someplace like Outback, but not from a restaurant that is "serious" about wine.

The Rhone has a confusing appellation hierarchy. At the bottom is Cotes-du-Rhone. Then Cotes-du-Rhone-Village, then seven towns that can put their names over Cotes-du-Rhone-Villages (eg., Rasteau, Sablet, Muscat-de-Beaumes-de-Venise, etc.) Next up are towns that have their own appellation, such as Chateauneuf-du-Papes, Vacqueyras, Cornas, Hermitage, and Gigondas. Cote-Rotie, while not a town, would fall in this category. These may say "Red Rhone Wine" but won't say "Cotes-du-Rhone".

All these appellations will have their own character differences. Mark's north-south distinction is the most important, though, as southerners are blenders and northerners keep to the Syrah.

After four (4) visits to Central. I agree with Kilman's two stars more than I do Tom's three.

Tom gave it 2-1/2, I believe. DC magazine's former restaurant critic gave it three, despite panning the hamburger everyone here raves about. That review also included the line, "Vegetarians run screaming from this meat-heavy menu ..."

ETA: I stand corrected (by Joe H below). I'd been equating Tom's 2-1/2 out of 4 with DC's 3 on a 5-star scale. So I guess Tom did rate it higher.

Why not introduce them to American wines? They can get Spanish wines at home.

If I ever get to Barcelona, I ain't eatin' at McDonalds!

How do y'all keep your starter alive? I had some several years ago that turned funky pretty quick, and feeding it every few days used a ton of flour for no good purpose, since I tossed most of it each time. I bake weekly at most, and have had great results using an old-dough method - saving a golf ball sized hunk of dough just before shaping the loaves, and freezing it in a plastic container. Next time, thaw out and build a 3-stage dough, adding yeast at the final stage. (This method in Baking with Julia, from Steve Sullivan of Acme Bakery.) Mixing up the flours every once in awhile adds interest, and as the "starter" dough ages a little bit, it adds more and more character each time. (I liken it to the solera system of sherry, where the cask is topped off with new wine, but the contents might "average" many decades old ...)

Looks so delicious I wanna dive right in .... and eat the place setting

You raise an interesting point here. I wonder what the reasons are for the buzz differential.

Michel Richard?

Months of publicity/anticipation for Central, while this place sneaked up on us?

The Willard's reputation?

I reckon she done been corrupted by them fancy big city folk.

I believe she still lives here.

We visit D'Acqua next Saturday. I have a bit of familiarity with Italian seafood houses. This is a post of mine from last Fall which only makes me more eager to visit Francesco's new restaurant.

I applaud the ambition of D'Acqua. The bar is set pretty high however. I look forward to our visit.

Definitely go for a salt-baked fish. The best strategy is to let Enzo or Francesco give you a "tour" of the fish "market" and then tell them what if anything you're allergic to. Pastas are very good (squid ink tagliatele), appetizers (wan fritto misto) and salads (too-sharp dressing) can be uneven. Desserts are good, if you have room. Wine list provokes sticker shock, but there are some very good selections; they tend to push a Falanghina with the seafood menu - inexpensive and an ideal pairing.

Be careful what you say. People will hear you tables away, and you'll be able to eavesdrop, too.

As Far as 1990 Jose was probaly still cooking at El Dorado Petite! Not anywhere near the Penn Quater. The Jaleo on 7th was all the Idea of Roberto Alvarez and no one else (maybe Ann Cashion was involved). The Props of Revitalizing Penn Quater should be givin to only Roberto Alvarez not Jose R. Andres!

The early history of Jaleo may have gotten murky in the celebrity-chef personality cult of Jose Andres. Who, by the way, is a friend of mine, whom I consider a culinary genius. Or madman, if there's a difference. He's also one of two restaurant chefs who I've actually dared to cook for - the other being Ann Cashion, who, if memory serves, was the original chef at Jaleo. Previously she had won acclaim at the original Austin Grill, which was owned by Rob Wilder, who became Roberto Alvarez' business partner in Jaleo, later Zaytinya and the empire. (Roberto, a longtime human rights activist, has since gone on to a diplomatic career as the Dominican Republic's ambassador to the Organization of American States, where, so I hear, he is distinguishing himself again, as one would expect.)

Roberto Alvarez spoke often and movingly of his desire to open his restaurants in neighborhoods that were run down but prime for revival. That's why he moved Atlantico from Adams Morgan to what later became Penn Quarter, and why he and Wilder opened Jaleo where they did, and later Zaytinya. Say what you want about Bethesda and Crystal City. So yes, the Alvarez-Wilder team deserves credit for the revitalization of Penn Quarter. But so does Abe Pollin. So do the Wizards, and the Caps.

Jose is indeed a great restaurateur. But he's had the support of two other great restaurateurs - Alvarez and Wilder. And he's had a wonderful supporting cast - Tony Yelamos, for example, who oversees the empire from a management perspective and has been in charge of the wine lists for years. He helped expand the retail market for Spanish wines by pointing importers to up and coming producers whose wines he wanted to feature at Jaleo.

There are others - Todd Thrasher and his wife, Maria, are perhaps the most notable on this board, who have come through the Proximo/ThinkFoodGroup network (OK, they open great restaurants, but they suck at corporate names). And there will be others.

Now I'll get off my soapbox and return to my usual, circumspect lurking ways. But you guys are talking about friends of mine, so I wanted to chime in.

ETA:

dinner at Big Wong!

Hmm, sounds like a worthy restaurant review for DC magazine's "lust" issue in June!

ETA:

Sheesh, I who'd like an owl in that first graf ...

From today's review of EatBar: My reaction when I first read this was that it was among the more bizarre sentences I had ever read. After reflecting on it for a couple of minutes, I realized that Tom intended "the seeds and sprouts crowd" to denote non-meat-eaters. But that's still bizarre. And "gets some stroking"?

Perhaps he's auditioning for DC magazine. Or Capitol File.

That being said, of course, Central should strive to ask how a diner likes his or her buger cooked ....

I like mine fresh-picked.

Geez, louise, people, maybe the server forgot to ask! I was asked when I ordered it. And I dinn ....

... Even at Central, such incredibly minor slips can happen. Why, when I was at Citronelle last, I was INCENSED that Mark Slater didn't inquire if I preferred my Puligny Montrachet at 57 or 59 degrees, because, as everyone knows, 58 just don't cut it.

Beard nomination indeed.

ETA: JLK, you and I think alike.

It looks like it might be a good option for brunch in the suburbs with family (you know, keep the cost down, have options for kids, and offer a variety from more healthy to not-so-much.)

That's a very good description of what this place is. The food is fine, just don't lift your expectations too high. Think neighborhood café with a chance to have lunch/brunch and socialize. Don't expect to be raving or talking about the food too much afterwords, except maybe for the weird (but not gross) waffle sandwiches. The chef/owner is French. He worked many years at Ridgewells.