Spiral Stairs

My wife and I ate here for the first time on Friday and enjoyed it very much. Most enjoyable: There were loads of empty tables a little before 8PM, when we showed up. (Hope that's not a bad sign for the future. On the upside, it was significantly more full by the time we left.) My wife proclaimed the nutty goat flatbread "one of the best things [she's] ever had." (Also, by far the best word in the history of the whole world is hyperbole.)

For at least a couple months, a sign in Union Station (in the non-photogenic gate area, next to the Hertz counter) has announced the coming of Yogen Fruz as well.

To be clear, ol_iron said that the "distant southwestern" corner of VA is as far away as Boston, not that this restaurant is. By my rough Google Maps calculation, the trip from DC to the far southwestern corner of VA is, indeed, about 20 miles longer than the trip to Boston. Carry on... ETA: Johnb made same point faster. Curses!

Good god, sign me up. When I was living in New York, one of my favorite items, available at many neighborhood pizza places, was the less-fancy-pants-named "rice ball." They're hard to come by outside NYC.It's 9 blocks from my office to Taylor. Rain, rain, go away...

Ah, Denny's. In high school, I was vice-president of the Denny's Eating Club. We convened once a week at our local Denny's. Until, that is, the Shake Incident. You see, the Denny's menu (at the time, at least) expressly promised that, upon ordering a milkshake, the customer would receive not only a milkshake in a glass, but also some additional "left over" milkshake in the metal cup in which the shake was prepared. This was pictured on the menu and promised in words. Over the DEC's many meetings, countless milkshakes were ordered without issue, each of which was accompanied by left over milkshake. Then, during one of our weekly meetings, the waiter came over with only the glass. We said, "Excuse me, but we seem to be missing our promised 'left over' shake." The waiter said, "You get that only if there is some left over." We said, "But your menu says otherwise!" He shrugged and left. We left too, and the Denny's Eating Club thereafter conducted its weekly meetings at Applebee's. Never been to the one on Benning Road.

According to some online neighborhood scuttlebutt, Montmartre will be expanding into this now-vacant space.

So a place called Acqua al Due is coming to a space across 7th Street from Eastern Market formerly occupied by two clothing stores. (Just up the block from Montmartre.) (Here is a blurb.) Has anyone eaten at this place, the original of which is in Florence and an outpost of which is in San Diego? I can't imagine this is bad news, given that neither Dottie's nor A&A Athletic had attracted my disposable income while they occupied the space. But how good is the news?

We had unusually good barbecue at Earth Dog Cafe last weekend. It is on Route 522, just south of Berkeley Springs State Park (where the springs are). The meats are smoked right outside the front door, and my brisket was quite good. The sides were good too. My wife raved about the baked beans, to such an extent that I didn't get any. Our friend claimed that the burger was good in a thick, lettuce-and-tomato, serviceable way. We did take-out, and it took quite a while to get out the door. But that also gave us a chance to hang out in the very pleasant, friendly interior. We'll be back.

Mark me down as another very excited Hill resident. I can't imagine this will be anything less than extraordinarily successful. And Matchbox is so well-known and loved that perhaps other newcomers can ride its coattails. There is definitely still a lot of Barracks Row storefrontage that is ... less than optimally utilized. (Plus, the takeout news is very welcome, especially for this parent of a feisty two year-old.)

I ate at the one in Palo Alto some time ago. It had a sleek and hip but friendly vibe. I can't remember the details of the burger, except that the sauce I chose for it -- I think it was the peppercorn steak sauce, but am not sure -- was impossibly watery. It rendered the burger somewhat difficult to eat until I figured I just had to use it as a dipping sauce. I do recall liking the burger generally. (I believe I took it medium.) (Note, however, that I don't often run across a burger I don't like.)

Le Pain Quotidien.

After extensive experimentation, we simply decided to stop trying to find good Chinese food on the Hill. We channel our urges into Vietnamese (Pacific Cafe) or Thai (Old Siam).

Scotch Egg: Yes, please. As my two-year old would say, "More! More! More!" Fried Mac & Cheese on a Stick: Five (or so) little triangles of solid, deep-fried M&C on a skewer. Good, as all fried cheese must be, but the mac & cheese itself was disappointingly blah. Steak on a Stake: For an overcooked hunk of meat, tasty. Saved by a healthy dash of pepper. Fried pickles: My fave. Fried in spear form (as opposed to slice form). Cheese bread: Good, but not much different from something I would slide out of a Pepperidge Farm sleeve and slip into my own oven. Frozen chocolate-covered banana: Just about what it sounds like. Pretty good taste-bang for the health-buck, but I do regret not having the cheesecake on a stick. We got in and out on Saturday with no problem at all. Arrived at about 10:15 (shortly after it opened), cruised into a spot. Left at about 1:30, drove straight out. The back-up headed in was astonishing. Moral of the story: Get in early, get out early.

I, for one, would interpret "no cellphone use" to mean "no talking on cellphones." I understand the rationale behind such a rule -- people talking on cellphones tend to speak loudly and it can be distracting to others. However, I can't see any rationale for prohibiting people from typing on a Blackberry or phone. I consider myself a pretty courteous person and if I had been given those rules, I would not feel prohibited from typing an e-mail or text message.

Fascinating subject. I'll preface my thoughts by noting that I am not a journalist and know nothing beyond what common sense tells me about journalistic ethics. Even assuming a contract was formed after he received the slip of paper and decided to stay (which is pretty questionable), is it a canon of jurisdictional ethics that a journalist should not breach a contract? I would think not, and that instead the question is whether he breached any journalistic canon by disclosing facts that he learned while in the establishment. That seems unlikely to me. Further, so far as the column reveals, he didn't interview anyone. To the extent he received any request for confidentiality at all, it was from the establishment itself. As a matter of journalistic ethics, can an institution (rather than a person) be a "source" whose confidentiality can be protected? Change the circumstances a little: Imagine that Jason Wilson is a political affairs reporter, and that he is invited to a private political event. Once inside the door, someone hands him a slip of a paper that says "Thou shall not write about this." Yet he stays and hears a politician openly propose to invade Iran. Surely the reporter would not be prohibited from reporting this news because someone handed him a piece of paper. Indeed, some people might be seriously offended if he did NOT report it because he thought he was bound by that piece of paper. The fact that the stakes are lower in a column on alcohol doesn't change the fundamental circumstances. (It's a totally separate and unrelated question whether he acted imprudently in publishing this information, because he might jeopardize future access to sources. Beat reporters have to make judgments like that all the time, but they are exactly that: judgments, not ethical rules.)

I had my first Hell-Burger on Saturday. I had mine recommended, with epoisse and shrooms. Holy crap. I've never had a burger that rare before, and in some ways it was revelatory. I did not know a burger could be so meltingly soft and rich. I scarfed mine down in record time. I am glad I tried the epoisse, but am eager to try the aged cheddar next time, as I'm just more of a cheddar guy. The mushrooms could be a side dish on their own. I did have some problems with the burger's structural integrity. The issue, though, was more with the patty than the bun. It kind of fell apart half-way through. (This, I assume, is a function of the rareness. My wife's "cooked through" burger stayed together just fine.) I reassembled it and somehow was able to consume every morsel in any event. My wife, who weighs a buck-ten and routinely leaves more than half of her food uneaten, remarked on the way to the restaurant, "I'm not sure I'm hungry." Suffice it to say that less than thirty minutes after uttering that phrase she was burping in front of an empty plate. If I had to pick one basic food item on which to live (assuming nutritional sufficiency), I'd seriously consider choosing the potato. Thus, I can't believe I'm about to type this: I am glad they don't offer fries. The burger is such an absurd indulgence that fries really would have pushed the experience over the top. We had to wait briefly for a table, but were seated before our food came. I appreciated the fact that the staff tries to impose some organization on the table turnover process. Those free-for-all situations stress me out. When staff members grease the wheels and try to make sure the right people get to the right table, though, it's all good.

Ah, I remember when we could go to a restaurant with our son. Now that he's two, three things must be true in order to make a place sufficiently kid-friendly: (i) it must be very friendly, (ii) it must be quick, and (iii) it must be our home. We stopped taking Charlie out at about 19 months, because he started to throw food. We thought he had stopped, so we tried again a few weeks ago. No dice. Our next experiment is Woodlands, by far our favorite Indian restaurant, and a buffet to boot. In and out, nobody gets hurt. We used to go there every weekend with him, so hopefully he'll have fond memories (that don't involve throwing food).

This is beyond cool. It is important that this place succeed. I shall do my part.

Pursuant to Don's directive, I am posting about my last dinner. (Well, my last two dinners came out of boxes. But you don't want to hear about those...) It was my first time at Corduroy at any location. I'll start by saying all edible components of the meal were excellent. My lobster carpaccio was buttery and delicious. My scallops were among the best I've had in recent memory. The blueberry tart and creamsicle for dessert was delectable. (Which also meant that my wife's "just a bite or two" turned into a rigorous splitting down the middle.) And the two Thai Basil Mojitos that preceded the meal were really good. My group of four was, however, disappointed with the service. Though our reservation was at 8:30, we arrived at 7:30 so we could have some drinks at the bar. That we did. At about 8:20, the bartender/server came to our table and told us that our table was ready, so we could settle the bar tab. That we did. A little after 8:30, the hostess (insert prayer that I have not offensively assigned the wrong title) came to our table and said it would be just a few minutes. A few minutes went by. She came back and said a prior party was still at our table, and they were winding things up. More minutes went by. Finally, at close to 9:00, one of our party went downstairs to speak to the hostess. We had seen empty tables on the second floor and wondered why we couldn't be seated at one. The hostess said she had to speak to a manager. That she did, and we were soon given one of the tables on the second floor. (I now understand that the second floor is supposed to be for private or semi-private parties. But other small parties were seated up there after us. It doesn't appear that they were, in fact, blocked off for a party. In any event, I don't know what went on behind the scenes. Maybe heaven and earth had to be moved.) I guess what bugged me is that no one ever apologized to us. I know delays happen, and people linger, and customers sometimes are inevitably and unavoidably inconvenienced. But -- apart from simply not being seated until 20 or 25 minutes after our reserved time -- we sat for nearly 40 minutes after initially being told our table was ready, without drinks because we had been asked to settle up. (And we had a babysitter on the clock at home. But I digress...) Maybe it wasn't the biggest travesty in the world, but meals of this duration and at this price point are increasingly rare for me, and I was bummed that this one had a sour element. Anyway, food: very good. Service: somewhat disappointing.

And one letter, plus contraceptive mishap, from being a significant mother.

I made a special trip here (well, not that special -- one side of Capitol Hill to the other) today, but found it was inexplicably closed when I showed up, a little after noon. (I checked the website before leaving; according to the site, it opens at 11 a.m. on Sundays.) The only sign on the window said they would be closed from 3:30 to 5:30 every day. A couple other people were gathered outside, similarly confused. How about a fricking sign? Annoying. Time didn't permit a trip to Ray's (which is why I headed toward this place to begin with), so we had to settle for the decidedly less exciting Five Guys.

He's right. No one else is operating a burger restaurant located at 303 Pennsylvania Avenue, S.E. I really don't see how you can argue with that. I posted a mild defense of Spike upthread, and do still intend to eat his burger. But the "D.C. is a cowtown" attitude is getting a little grating. (I'm from Kansas City. I know whereof I speak.)

Has anyone taken a burger home? Various complexities of life may make it much easier for me to go pick up burgers and bring them home, rather than dine in situ. But the comments above about the juice vs. bun battle scare me. Will the burger become a meat cobbler? (Sorry if I missed a responsive post in the hurricane of commenting.)

I certainly agree that Spike has come off as arrogant in the way he has introduced himself to DC. At the same time, I can think of a well-established DC chef or two whom I find to be insufferably arrogant. Spike is being punished in this thread not for being arrogant, but for being arrogant without having first worn a locally-grown hairshirt. Ultimately, I'll eat the food and judge it as such, unless his farm-fresh arrogance affects my dining experience. (Of course, I'm probably inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt in light of desperation for decent options in my 'hood.)

Holy crap. I am going to have to secure my wife, a burger junkie, with wrist and ankle restraints before telling her this. p.s. Could I have fries with that please?