PS7′s Restaurant

PS7′s Restaurant (the name comes from a combination of the owner/head chef Peter Smith and the address at 777 I St NW) has made a name for itself as being one of the haute coutre restaurants and bar scenes in DC in the recent years. The very name of the restaurant has evoked a very fanciful experience to me, having heard about it for many years (the doors opened in 2006 after Peter Smith left Vidalia).

The truth is, Restaurant Week really gives an opportunity for local residents to check out places to dine that wouldn’t normally occur to them on any given day.  So after making our reservations on Open Table for 9:00pm, Jen and I headed over to the restaurant for a nice dinner after a long day for both of us.

We arrived just a few scant minutes after 9, and were politely informed that our table would be ready in about 20 minutes.

Really?  20 minutes after a reservation time?  Already, PS7 was not making a favorable impression with either Jen or me.  We generally arrive already on the border of famished, and this was the first time we’ve been asked to wait for such a long period of time.  Isn’t that what reservations are for?

So, having no other option than to agree to wait, we found a small table at the bar section and entertained ourselves through amateur anthropological studies of DC socialite scene, a veritable bacchanalia in full swing.  A giraffe was discussing the finer points of wearing seersucker in the summer with a rhino. A fawn gently played a pan flute for a maiden with long, golden tresses and emerald eyes. A republican eagerly hammered out the details of a universal healthcare plan with a democrat. Then again, I might have been hallucinating from the hunger pangs I was experiencing.

25 minutes later, we were picked up by the hostess (literally, the 100 lb. girl grabbed the two of us, powercleaned us simultaneously, and carried us)  and we were off to our table.  The reservations were late enough that we were catching the last few lingering patrons on the restaurant side, but it was still considerably packed given the time.  We quickly put in our orders, and were off to our evening’s gastronomical adventure.

First up, the bread basket:

Er, bread duo.

While the breads were pretty chimerical in themselves, one being a bacon laden biscuit, we were disappointed in the fact that there was more butte delivered to us than actual bread.  The photo here might not exactly do it justice, but each roll wasn’t more than two inches across.  I probably should be grateful for food gratis, but this simply wasn’t a good sign.

For appetizer’s, Jen ordered Sarah’s Salad and I ordered the Tuna Sliders; the former, a mixture of mixed field greens, candied hazelnuts, dried cranberries, and mascarpone lemon dressing; the latter, a trio of spicy tuna tartare in sesame seed buns with white miso aioli, and cucumber-cilantro slaw.

I’ll admit that the tuna sliders were about the size I was expecting, somewhere between a bite and two bites for each, but Jen’s salad wouldn’t be considered sufficient for an anorexic jackrabbit with a bad meth habit.  A Victoria’s Secret model would have sent it back demanding more being put onto the plate.  As we sat there, contemplating eating the rest of the butter (until the waiter came to clear the plates and the butter, damnit) the restaurant began to clear out considerably, with the patrons likely heading to other destinations for the evening.

So we sat there, and contemplated some more.

And some more.

And we waited some more.

Normally, I could understand an overwhelmed kitchen, but really, the din of the establishment had died down to intimate conversations at several tables, including ours.  I didn’t put a stopwatch on, but I did consider running over to McDonald’s down the street and getting a Big Mac in the interim.

With a small fry on the side.

Because I’m trying to watch what I eat. Y’know.

After what seemed like a semi-enternity, our entrees arrived.  I had been deterred from my original order of the Pan-Roasted Rockfish after being notified that they were out, so I was pleased with the a comparable substitute, the Pan Seared Trout, served with root vegetable “ribbons” and thoughtfully decorated with a bacon Coca-Cola gastrique.  Upon inquiring what exact a “gastrique” was, the waiter described the technique of harnessing ancient medieval alchemical techniques to fuse the powers of white wine with the sugar acidity of Coca-Cola.

So…you’re telling me you tossed some white wine in with a can of Coke in a pan and boiled it down over an open fire? Neat.

I’ll say that the portion of fish was much larger than I was expecting, but maybe that’s because I had already been set with the precedent of micro portions from everything that had been delivered to us thus far.  The fish was perfectly prepared- tender, flavorful, and just the right amount of sauce.  The ribbons were well executed as a presentation, although, this dish for all intents and purposes, was completely devoid of a side to complement the fish.

Jen’s Risotto with Mushroom (which does not appear on the normal menu) seemed to fall a bit short of expectations.  The dish would have honestly been a better side dish, perhaps to my Pan Seared Trout.  But as an entree?  It was glorious.

Another disappointment for Jen, and she finished this uninspired dish in but a few minutes.  If I haven’t explained this before, Jen’s a very light eater.  It really is no exaggeration that it takes no amount of food to make satiate her appetite, and all the food up until now had done nothing for her.

But wait!  There’s still dessert!

However, the desserts aren’t listed on their website online, so I am given no other option but to make something up in its place.

If I remember correctly, Jen ordered what amounted to a gourmet Snicker’s bar.  The soft chocolate exterior housed a cream chocolate mousse inside, topped with a light cream and sprinkled with crunchy candied bits.  Again, a great execution, with fantastic presentation, but staying the course, this dish simply did not satisfy in the manner that even a grocery store candy bar would.  The light textures and ingredients gave no gratification whatsoever.

I had a deeeelightful creampuff with a vibrant and cherry reduction that was pleasing to the palette, but somehow remaining unremarkable otherwise.  To be quite frank, had I not taken a photo, and given the lack of dessert descriptions on their website, I would not be able to recall exactly what I had for dessert.

Suffice to say, Jen also finished the dessert with ease, and for her to go through four courses without feeling overly full, well, that’s a rare occurrence, and not necessarily a celebrated one.

Me?

I followed up this meal at Jen’s with a protein bar, a bowl of cereal in almond milk, a bit of beef jerky, a few handfuls of macadamia nuts, and half a pint of ice cream.  Ps7, for all it’s hype, fails to rise to the occasion.  The dishes, while well prepared, take a good amount of time to perfectly prepared, and the portion sizes, for the majority, lean towards the diminutive. For $90 (without drinks), you’d expect more out of dinner for two.

I do hear that PS7′s bar scene is much better though.  Not being a drinker myself, I can’t vouch for it, but at least you could go somewhere else for a good meal afterwards.

See PS7′s on a map here.

Recommended for:

• Hyper-light eaters
• Time Killers
• Scenesters

Not Recommended for:

• Everybody else