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Amen, crackers. Dinner was just what a gal should expect for a half month's rent. The food was breathtaking, and so were the wine pairings--that technique of cooking the meat at a low temp for days produces a sublime result, and rare is a place that can match a wine so beautifully with asparagus or bruleed foie gras (!?!). The service... Weeeell, the bartender was super, but the dining room service was a bit stand-offish for my taste. But hey, that's just me.

In October, I snapped up a reservation at Citronelle for the one night my brother was in town that the White Sox had an off-night in the Championship Series--a Tuesday, I think. Imagine my horror when I got the voice mail confirming our reservation for Monday. Nooooooo! screamed the voice in my head. Did I really click on the wrong day on Open Table?? He'll kill me! He'll kill me and we'll have to miss either the game or the dinner! I called back. "I just got a message confirming our reservation for tonight, but I thought I made it for tomorrow--I meant to make it for tomorrow--please can I eat there tomorrow???" "Let me check... Oh--I'm so sorry! Yes, we have you down for Tuesday. My mistake!" And lo, there was baseball one night and dinner the next, and all was well in the land.

Blue Diamond is closed? The one on 18th and ...T-ish, was it? Aw. That place sustained me when I first moved here...

Rocky's... Catfish and sweet potato fries, bluefish salad and a Brooklyn Pilsner to wash it all down... Sigh.

Say what you will about them, but I've been fairly impressed by some of their menus, which seem to artfully encapsulate the answer to the question, "So what is American food anyway?"

The use of Flash is also stupid because this is Washington. Many people work for the government. Many government workers view these sites from their office. Many government workers do not HAVE Flash and can't add it in because they work for the government and are accessing from the office. Ta da.

You know, I have this same issue with Tom Seitsema sometimes. Once, in a chat, he mentioned having dinner at a "popular Adams Morgan restaurant" where a CAT-SIZED RAT scurried across the dining room. He would not name the restaurant. (Okay, well I hope he at least called HHS.) He'll also mention gross violations of cleanliness or food safety and not say at which restaurants they occurred. Now, as much as I appreciate knowing that Restaurant A has insipid creme brulee and that Restaurant B's wine list is snootily Old World, I could figure that out myself without, you know, getting salmonella. I'd much prefer to be informed that Restaurant C is a petri dish for ecoli and roaches and that the chef doesn't wash his hands after using the facilities. I guess Seitsema doesn't review those places because after one meal he wouldn't return. But as a resident of Adams Morgan--home of the Sketchy, Popular Restaurant--I feel I'm missing out on an important facet of restaurant reviews: where NOT to eat because it might kill you.

Actually, you don't need to go through A la Carte for Spices--they deliver on their own. As does sister restaurant Nooshi--which is closer to OP's area. The food is always attractive and at the appropriate temperature. For soups, they even send broth in one container and mix-ins--noodles, bean sprouts, etc--in another. A bit expensive, but worth it. Famous Luigi's, a couple of doors down, also delivers, but their area is limited (and I recently moved a block out of it... drat!).

Sprinkling crap--whether it's parsley or spices or whatever--around the edge of the plate is trite. And uncreative. And ugly. And it gets on your shirt cuffs.

The producer culls questions for the host out of the pack, but the host chooses which questions to answer... Or at least that's how it's been described on other post.com chats.

What I want to know is if Tom takes criticisms so well, as he says he does, why does he always have to follow one (like today's, which I actually thought was a good question and not an attack) with five or six messages that say how great he is?

Of course you're right. My head was stuck in the vermouth thing.

A "martini straight up" is a martini without ice, not without vermouth. That would be a vodka straight up, with olives. Thank goodness my parents raised me right.

Barbara, they are the same people who smoke in the bus stop shelter. Mealy apples to them all!

We were allowed to order at restaurants when we were kids, but what we were going to say was discussed at great length with our parents before we were allowed to talk to the server. And it was quite clear to us that if we acted out or order something that hadn't been approved, we would either get no Shirley Temple or be forced to sit in the car alone while they finished their meal. (Of course, they never made us go sit in the car; the threat was sufficient.)

I made my first trip to Busboys and Poets for a long lunch with a friend on Friday. I am decidedly pleased. The place has a bookstore with a range of interesting titles not common in the burgeoning Acme chains around town. It also has a really intriguing schedule of events, from poetry open mikes to a night of performances dedicated to Ken Saro-Wiwa. (See schedule on their Web site.) Both of us had the catfish, both of us were mightily satisfied. A huge sauteed filet lays atop a buttery corn cake and a pile of collards. The sauce (which must have had a couple of sticks of butter as its base) had a nice tart ring to cut through the richness of the elements. Very nice for $11. The whole menu, in fact, is nicely priced. Great beer and wine selection, and though the wine is cheap, the beer is not (lots of $6 bottles there!). Service is out there. We must have had at least five different guys serving us, and not in a coordinated fashion. One server committed the cardinal sin of pouring my beer at the table and then trying to take! the! bottle! away! when! it! still! had! beer! in! it! The service issues, however, were mostly forgivable considering that they all seemed genuinely to want us to have a nice, tasty time. All told, this is a promising place to have a meal, see a show, or just hang out. I'll definitely be back.

No kidding, logan. This quote, from a mother complaining about the "inside voice" rule, floored me: "You go to a coffee shop or a bakery for a rest, to relax, and that you would have to worry the whole time about your child doing something that children do." Now, I don't have any kids, but when parents need to rest, do you seriously take your kids out in public and let them loose? And then it's my fault if I can't "rest and relax" with your kid under my table, drooling, screaming, and kicking me? Crazy lady. I'd go to that guy's shop every day if I could, in solidarity. Power, brother!

Other people's kids are why I often eat at the bar.

Mmmm... I love Alberto's. May have to splurge this week on a pie. They have a terrific ceasar salad, and they're the best delivery I've found in the city... but yowza they're expensive. With tip, it's $35-40 for a salad and large pie! And, obviously, even more expensive if you have to buy a new tooth, too...

Alberto's has reopened? Any menu changes?

Actually, Michelle Pfeiffer is married to David E. Kelley of TV's "Boston [insert modifier here]" fame. Please don't hate me for knowing that or feeling that it was necessary to share.

Starfish is quite right. I like to talk to people at bars, but I find all too often that a pleasant chat can turn into an uncomfortable expectation, which is why I often stick to bars where I know the bartender or where the bartenders are attentive to these types of issues...

But, alas, Eve is in the suburbs, and I live and work in DC central. One of my weaknesses is an utter inability to leave the city of my own volition. It was a big step for me to sign up for the Ray's dinner lottery!

Good call! I also recommend Aroma for an IPA and a slice from Vace.

As a recent convert to nonsmoking, I'm finding bars to be less and less pleasant places to eat. However, early in the week, the Reef is reasonably smokefree and good bar eating. And the Tabard has a good bar that's smokefree until dinner service is over. Oh, and though it's been a while, I seem to remember Ten Penh as having a comfy bar to eat at--I think the low stools make me feel less precarious.