Mike Isabella, the former head chef at Jose Andres’ Zaytinya, has found himself at the celebrity chef’s table after a very strong performances on Top Chef and Top Chef All-Stars. He’s taken the momentum and opened up his first restaurant, Graffiato, on the east side of the Verizon Center and Chinatown.

The restaurant offers small plates, pastas, and pizzas with locally sourced ingredients, a promise that I find appealing given my localvore leanings. Farms are listed proudly on a chalkboard at the upstairs dining room over the kitchen.

There’s a lot to like about the menu for Jen and me, so much that decided to go right in with the tasting menu for two to get a sampling of Isabella’s favorites. The cheese plate, to start, is an excellent selection of locally sourced dairy. We sampled a cow, goat, and sheep cheese that’s accompanied by a generous serving of sweet, tangy mustard. Three for three great cheeses and not a single one being a letdown on the plate.

Jen’s longstanding campaign against peppers precluded her from trying the Blistered Sweet Peppers with me. Seasoned with smoked paprika, capers, and topped with microgreens, the sweetness plays well against the acidic background and the smoky undertones. I really wished I had a hotdog to go with all of this.

Jen did split the Honey Glazed Cippolini with me. A sweet, roasted, medium sized cippolini onion, cooked with whole honey glazed garlic cloves, served with rosemary and onion seeds, I found myself scarfing down the cloves while Jen took down the onion.

We started in on the pasta dishes, first with the Sweet Corn Agnolotti. The pasta is very similar in preparation to ravioli, but traditionally smaller in size. Each pasta bite rewards your mouth with the sweet taste of corn, mixed with pine nuts, chantrelles, and of course, incredibly fresh pasta. A dish like this meant to be shared, but I found that I wanted the entire plate to myself. Jen’s pretty good at paying attention to what I like and how fast I start eating it, so she took didn’t hesitate to go in right after me.

The Roasted Potato Gnocchi is an absolute must, with braised pork shank and burrata cheese. The kitchen was accommodating enough to separate out the meat for Jen but still serve the pork on the side for me. WIN WIN. You mean I have to eat twice as much pork as I normally would because my girl’s not gonna have any of it?

OKAY.

Burrata’s a delicate, almost creamy cheese, much like a softer mozzarella. A great cheese to go with the chewy texture of the roasted gnocchi, and the tender pulled pork shank is unbelievably delicious.

The pizza menu is full of exotic selection, and none seemed more exotic to the both of us than the Countryman Pizza. Made with black truffles, fontina cheese, and served with a duck egg, the wait staff breaks the yolk tableside and spreads it evenly across the pizza canvas for an exceptional pie. Given the fact that I tend to only eat pizza at some of the better pizza places in DC due to my paleo eatin’ ways, I’m pretty happy to say that this pizza is right up there with that crowd. If there’s one problem I can single out with this, it’s the pizza stand. The pizza stands are horribly unsteady, as we saw at least two other tables have their pizzas topple over as the last few slices were taken and the balanced weight of the plate came crashing down to the table.

The sole meat dish delivered to us was the Chicken Thighs in Pepperoni Sauce with cherry tomatoes and basil. Holy hell, what’s up tender chicken? Several chunks of moist, tender, juicy, dark chicken in a hearty (and meaty!) tomato sauce, and another home run for Mike Isabella. Chicken tends to be the ‘safe meat’ (kind of like safe word, but then, totally not) on most menus, but here, it stands proudly as appealing of an order as any of the other meats on the menu.

The closing dish, which we dug into before I remembered to take a photo, is the house 24 Carat cake – a carrot flavored panna cotta that comes chilled and served in a tumbler. Who knew carrot tasted so good with a cold cream?

There was some sort of mixup between our waiter and the kitchen, as we sat with the check and I did the math in my head, the individual plates we got as part of the tasting menu simply did not add up to the cost of the two people eating the tasting menu. Both Mike Isabella (who came personally table to table to to talk to us about our meal, and his pretty badass collection of tattoos) and the GM worked it out with us, and we were both pleased at how accommodating and easy it was to work out with the two of them. The service otherwise was great- empty plates were quickly taken away, there was never a significant lull without another plate being delivered.

There are several dishes we sampled that I’d love to have again, but the menu offers enough variety that I’d have a hard time not trying out some of the other dishes, like the Pork Ribs, Octopus, or the Jersey Shore pizza, served with fried calamari, tomato, and a cherry pepper aioli. The pizzas are by the best value on the menu, and you won’t find yourself disappointed.

See Graffiato on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Vegetarians
• First Dates
• Summer Dress
• Localvores

Not Recommended For:

• Weight Watcher Wandas
• Vegans
• Organic Orangutans
• Cheese Eatin’ Surrender Monkeys

Brasserie Beck is a Belgian inspired bistro by Robert Weidmaier, the mastermind that’s also behind the French/Belgian restaurant Marcel’s. The interior of the restaurant certainly feels European, almost like a fancy train station where you can catch a quick cup of espresso, pick up the latest International Herald Tribune, and run off to catch your train.

The fare here is very well executed, with a strong focus on sauces. The Fricassee of Mushrooms with Spatzle served with a Toasted Baguette and Poached Egg is a standout for presentation and taste, and a great way to start out a meal. This unique dish really melds a variety of tastes and textures well, from the selection of mushrooms swimming in a rich, buttery sauce, to the crispiness of a warm toasted baguette, with a single, perfectly poached egg perched on top. I love poached eggs, the predecessor of  molecular gastronomic gels, the way you can open one filled with a thick yolk to soak up with bread.

Jen ordered the Tomato Bisque with Goat Cheese, Gnudi, and Fried Basil to start- a hearty bisque without the traditional emphasis on cream in the soup is a nice change, and something to warm your soul on the coldest of days. A really fantastic way to start your meal off on the right foot, the whole leaf basil crisp is a nice touch to bring some color and texture to this soup.

Being the diligent foodie, I doubled down appetizers and got the Mushroom and Spinach Crepe with Gruyere Cheese as well. Well, to be truthful, I ordered this as my original appetizer, but the waiter brought out the Fricassee after I had posed a question about it before he took our order. Nothing short of being completely accommodating, he quickly went to put in an order of the crepe for me. Absolutely class.

The downside? The gruyere was molten lava hot. I had to catch myself from forcibly ejecting the first bite from my mouth it was so hot, and rather unpredictably so. Maybe the steam rising from my first incision should have tipped me off. Maybe this satchel of mushrooms, spinach, and gruyere magma wasn’t what I was expecting when I ordered the crepe. I could say maybe about a number of things, but I really just didn’t enjoy this dish and its play on a traditional expectations of a crepe. With the cheese being as hot as it was, it really made this hard to eat, leaving me with a parting gift of a burnt palete.

Don’t let anybody ever tell you being a foodie isn’t dangerous work.

The dinner menu does not offer a wide selection of vegetarian plates for entrees, unfortunately, with the number of options to choose from hovering somewhere around zero to none. The kitchen does present the option of creating something for herbivores, which looks something akin to the plate below. A mix of sauteed squash, cauliflower, green beans, and other assorted garden greens, showered in a generous application of salt and served with a small handful of fresh frisee. The dish still holds an exceptional elegance about it, but vegetarians may find this dish lacking in substance. Not turrible for being an off the menu accommodation, but then, not so great, either.

I ordered the Braised Lamb Pappardelle for my main course, which was exactly as the menu described. Braised Lamb. Pappardelle. Two things I really enjoy eating.

As it turns out, they’re not are things I enjoy eating when they’re served together.

Braised lamb in itself is wonderful, the way the meat tears with a gentle pull of a fork and without the need for a knife, cooked for hours on end to break down the protein structures to make it tender. With pappardelle, I really dig the wide cut noodles, the way that they swim in cream sauces and stick together if you fail to add the right amount of oil. In other words, a giant block of pasta, much like a noodle kugel. But the pappardelle here doesn’t turn out that way, rather, it’s a heaping mound of pasta served in a thin tomato based sauce, piled high with chunks of lamb, pearl onions, peas, tomatoes, fresh grated cheese and chives. That’s it. I didn’t feel like the texture of the wide noodles on this plate were really the other flavors of the meat or the tomato sauce. It was simply a large plate of food, which is fantastic if you’re absolutely voracious, but does little in the way to make you reflect and think, “Wow, that was a really good dish.”

True to Belgie form, the restaurant also specializes in a variety of mussel pot preparations, along with an encyclopedic listing of beers and wine. I can’t say we had a single dish that didn’t at least have some thought put into it, and the wait staff was overwhelmingly accommodating, if not a bit stretched thin covering tables. As good as everything looks on paper and on film, I can’t shake the feeling that this is the sort of place that you go for the alcohol first and the food second, not the other way around.

I’d love to hear the opinions of a Belgian expat or tourist to get their take, but I doubt we’ll ever end up going back.

See Brasserie Beck on a map.

Recommended For:

• Bougie Beer Drinkin’ Bromances
• First Dates
• Mollusk-uclear Gastronomy
• Meeting Your Significant Other’s Parents For the First Time

Not Recommended For:

• Vegetarian Valeries
• Frugalistas
• Kickball League Pregaming Four Loko Fantatics
• Meetup Location to Plan on Rioting After Your Hockey Team Loses

For Jen’s berfday, we headed over to the fanciest of fancy raw vegan restaurants in DC, Elizabeth’s Gone Raw (EGR). Well, I don’t really know of any other raw vegan in restaurants, period. So keeping an open mind and walking in through the french doors of the restaurant, I looked forward to my first raw vegan meal.*

The pre-seating event involves servers floating around with plates full of delicious appetizers, usually served on a gluten free cracker using alternative flours such as flax seed or sesame. I saw everything from dill to olive pate, roasted peppers, house made pesto, and even a savory sweet melon shooter.

Every person checks in at the front door with their reservations made in advance, and you’re brought to your table upstairs which may be shared with other diners, and leads to meeting some interesting and likely equally health conscious people, such as two lovely ladies that sat across from us. I’d suspect that if you pressed the reservationist over the phone, you could finagle a private table for two for a special occasion.

EGR  serves titanic bowls of  kale chips, baked with some sort of spicy vegan cheese like mix. These kale chips are definitely pro level chips, and the bowls of kale come as fast as you can eat them. Thankfully Jen and I had other people at the table with us, or I’d have taken every almost emptied bowl and tipped it to get all the crumbs at the bottom into my mouth.

The first course was a salad with a spring mushroom blend (yellow and blue oyster, beech, hen of the woods, and royal trumpet) tossed with boston lettuce and sunflower sprouts. Who knew sunflower sprouts could be so good? It’s topped with a truffle vinaigrette made with shallots, garlic, celery, macadamia nuts, coconut milk, apple cider vinegar, truffles, EVOO, agave, and nama shoyu, and finally topped with a smattering of gluten-free crackers. The complexity of jumbled textures and tastes of this salad is something of experiencing a symphonic explosion in your mouth.

The main course is an olive cannelloni with parsley salad, served with dressing and a heirloom tomato-basil relish on the side. The cannelloni itself is made with coconut water, coconut milk, and flax seed, wrapped around an olive filling made with scallions, lemon juice, macadamia & pine nuts, celery, and nutritional yeast. The relish, a classic combination of tomatoes, red onion and garlic tossed with red vinegar and chives, accentuates the flavors of the fresh parsley salad.  Finally, a semi sweet dressing made of apple cider vinegar, agave, and EVOO bring it all together to make, despite whatever the restaurant wants to call it, a vegan burrito. I know burritos have rice and beans stuffed inside, and those might have even helped this dish out a bit. While it was made with incredibly fresh ingredients and impressive to be completely dairy, gluten and meat free, this one wasn’t as good as either Jen or I had hoped. For me, it was the fact that it was just wasn’t satisfying; for Jen, it was because she despises olives.

Dessert is a generous slice of cacao layered mousse cake with goji berries and topped with a reishi mushroom powder, once used in tonics for emperors and kings. The cake is made with almond milk, agave, maple syrup, vanilla extract, coconut oil, almond powder, cacao powder, maca powder, and goji berries, while the chocolate mousse layers are made with vanilla extract, almond milk, maple syrup, and cashew flour. While I really liked the chocolate mousse layers, I found that the actual cake layers in the cake were too rich and heavy for me, without necessarily being sweet. In that sense, I did like the fact that it wasn’t over the top sweet, but I ended up scooping out and eating all the mousse and leaving chunks of the cake on my plate. I looked over, and Jen had done the exact same thing.

I knew I liked this girl for a reason.

The menu here changes seasonally as fruits and vegetables become available, speaking to the freshness of the ingredients, and the creativity of the kitchen. While the entire meal kept its promise of being gluten, dairy, and meat free, it does not fall short on flavor or quality of many of the upscale restaurants in the District.

We were constantly doted on by a number of people including the owner, Elizabeth Petty, herself. The service, however, is a mixed bag. Plates are cleared and accommodations are made, but there was considerable confusion with having all the wine glasses for the wine pairing brought out at the same time; Jen had two wineglasses “refilled” with water, which we had to send back on two separate occasions. Having numerous attentive is something of a nice luxury, but the hustle and bustle of them darting around as fast as they can seem a bit madding. Overall, I’d say it’s very good here, with an opportunity for a bit of refinement. It probably doesn’t help to the fact that dinners are only served once a week, but that makes each meal here at Elizabeth’s Gone Raw that much more special.

Wine pairings are available at each dinner, which are organic, biodynamic, and delicious. That’s right, I called wine delicious, like a six year old calls a glass of grape juice. Deal with it, fancy wine drinkers.

See Elizabeth’s Gone Raw on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Raw Vegan Rhondas
• Hemp Growin’ Harriets
• Organic Only Olivias
• Meeting New People

Not Recommended For:

• Raptors
• Buffet Line Barons
• Frugalistas
• Quiet, Romantic Dinners

*Okay, I had a ton of beef jerky before we left for the restaurant. I may or may have not  stored several chunks of jerky in my cheeks. What? Don’t judge me. You never know.

I never grew up thinking salad as being a satisfying meal until I became an adult. Maybe it’s because we’re served such crap salads when we were kids. Iceberg lettuce, shredded carrots, maybe half a tomato. In fact, airlines do their best to keep the tradition alive on long flights, serving you the exact same salad on long flights.

Well, screw that.

Chop’t is a salad company that’s recently celebrate their 10 year anniversary, with several locations spread throughout NYC and DC. Their salads are a bit on the expensive side, but they don’t skimp one bit on the ingredients or portion size. My favorite part? The recent switch to antibiotic free, hormone free, free range chicken in all their locations. I find myself drawn to getting a salad at least once a week as a treat, building it from the ground up with ingredients such as ancho chile chicken, goat cheese, fresh cherry tomatoes, spinach, arugula, and a regularly rotation selection of dressings that only ever use honey or agave nectar for sweetners.

The owners swap in seasonal ingredients and pre-selected salad combinations for the indecisive types, but I highly recommend experimenting and making up something that’s all your own.

And the best part about the salads? They’re hysterial.

Find a Chop’t near you here.

Of course, for all of you salad haters, you could make your salad DOUBLY paleo by adding your own meat.

Eatonville celebrates the life and works of 20th century African American writer Zora Neale Hurston, can be found directly across the street from Busboys & Poets, all part of the Andy Shallal restaurant empire in DC. The restaurant proudly offers the most southern of southern cuisine in an eclectic atmosphere of graffiti murals, delicate chandeliers, and rocking chairs for you to rock away the sweltering summer heat. Or at least rock away while people walking outside in the summer heat with the enormous windows that look out to the busy sidewalks of 14th street and beyond. The nuances of this restaurant just might make you reckon that you’re fixin’ to have a meal in somebody’s backyard, with picket fences, mason jar cups, and wood siding reminiscent your great great gran-ma-ma’s house.

If your great, great gran-ma-ma wasn’t some sort of ruthless dictator’s wife in Eastern Europe, that is.

The gumbo, made with crab, rock shrimp, andouille sausage and rice touts a little bit of kick with the faintest taste of peppers. The soup itself isn’t very thick and stays closer to a soup rather than a proper roux, but that suited me just fine. A bowl here is just enough to whet your appetite, but it lacks the heartiness, leaving you pining for more.

Jen ordered the Almond Crusted Charleston Toast, an impressive stack of thick cut bread, coated with slivered almonds and powdered sugar, then topped with a Grand Marnier fruit compote and a creamy dollop of sweet mascarpone cheese to match. I really liked the house’s rendition of the traditional french toast order, making it wholly their own, with a casual yet thoughtful presentation.

I’m a sucker for fried chicken, so I didn’t hesitate to take on the Callahan- a fried chicken breast served on a buttermilk biscuit with jalapeno-sausage gravy and accompanied by a serving of extra sharp cheddar mac’n'cheese and collard greens.

This dish was good, but, fell a bit below my expectations. Biscuits tend to be a bit on the dry side, which is expected, but I didn’t have any bit of jalapeno-sausage gravy to soak them in. That’s like throwing your three year old into a giant 200 gallon baby pool you’ve dragged home from Wal-Mart because it was on sale (ROLLING BACK PRICES, EVERY DAY!) but failing to filling the damn thing with water. Disasterous. I was expecting a giant pool of sausage gravy, and instead, I have the sub Saharan desert taking up an third of my plate.

To their credit, the mac’n'cheese is pretty good, as are the braised collard greens. I’ll make the most of a bad situation.

While I really like that Eatonville takes creativity and inspiration to their dishes, and even though I really want to love this place, I can’t say I’d wholeheartedly recommend eating here unless you’re a gambling type- dishes are very hit or miss. The service here is very good, and there always seems to be ample seating both indoors or out, if you prefer to soak in the sun. You can even come here and think about how the Eatonville, FL of Zora Neale Hurston’s youth is the home of everybody’s favorite Disney mouse today.

See Eatonville on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Gospel Grubbers
• VIVA LAS VEGAS!
• Panoramic Peoplewatching
• The South’n Hospitality

Not Recommended For:

• Biscuits’n'Graaaaaa…great expectations
• Paleoheads
• Sillystring Showdowns
• Freegans

There’s an old saying that I’ll horribly butcher for the purpose of making it fit for my own use. You can take the barbecue out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of barbecue. Welcome to Hill Country, the big city interpretation of the famed Texan style barbecue markets. This New York City based restaurant boasts in-house smoked beef brisket, snausage, and both beef and pork ribs. That’s not to mention their fixin’s bar- a cornucopia of every kind of southern side dish you could think of. Add in long neck bottles of beer, bourbons, whiskeys, tequilas, and plenty of live bands, and you might just have carved out a little bit of the Lone Star state in the District.

A first visit to Hill Country can be completely overwhelming, especially if you don’t know what you’re in for. Patrons are not allowed into the dining area without a card, and you’re not allowed to leave without a card (or a $50 fee for a lost card). So the #1 rule here is, don’t lose your card. Think of it as your meat wallet. Your passport to Meatlandia. Your visa to the Commonwealth of Country BBQ. Everything you order here at Hill Country is going to be marked on this card. Servers have rather untraditional roles here – they’ll take your drink orders and clear your table, but you’re on your own to order and pick up your food.

Once you’ve decided what you’re going to order from the 42903482 menus adorning the walls or on your order card, you can head to the back of the restaurant, where you’ll queue up to the butcher station and pick your meats. Meats can be ordered by the pound, but if you’re looking for a preselected variety, you can order specials that let you sample a number of things for a slightly reduced cost. For instance, the Pitmaster’s Combo gets you 1/4 lb of Lean Brisket, One Pork Spare Rib, One Beef Spare Rib, a Quarter of a Chicken, and two 8 oz sides for $24.

Your meat order is then dutifully wrapped in brown waxed paper, and you’re set to carry it off neatly on your plastic tray. Or if you happen to go with the four person combo, be prepared to bring bag a tray loaded with a enormous bag of wrapped, smoked meats.

The sides bar is loaded with plenty of choices, and the server will happily let you try any and all of them to your heart’s content. I highly recommend getting at least an order of the baked beans and the corn pudding, although the collard greens and the potato salad aren’t too shabby, either.

The smoked meats here are amazing, and they damn well better be at the prices they charge, which range from $8/lb for the market chicken, all the way up to $22/lb for the web brisket. A little bit on the oil tycoon end of things, but I guess it’s cheaper than a round trip ticket to Austin, TX for dinner.

Every order of meat comes with your choice of free bread or crackers, which I don’t quite understand. My group, unable to turn down anything free, opted for the bread, which is readily stocked in completely loaded shelves. My recommendation? Skip both.

There’s no shame in rollin’ up your sleeves and goin’ to town on your ribs with a good slather’n of barbecue sauce without the bread, anyways. The brisket is juicy and tender, and the pork rib is some of the best I’ve had in town. The chicken and beef rib, however, could get a pass from me on my next visit. I’d recommend splitting your order between the two aforementioned meats and skipping on the rest.

If you’re still feeling a tinge hungry after all of that, there’s always dessert. Loaded with everything from bread puddings, cupcakes, cookies, sheet cake, and crisps, I had a hard time making the pick for the “best” options here. Thankfully, I was tasked with picking out three for my table rather than just one, making the job an easier one.

You can’t go wrong with size. So the first thing to hit the plate was the five layer red velvet cake. Standing at least five inches high, watching a slice get placed on a plate is like watching a redwood tree get chopped down in the forest and then slathered in frosting before being handed off to you to eat. Extremely moist, rich, and not for the faith of heart.

The sweet potato bread pudding was an interesting twist on a traditional favorite of mine. Topped with a meticulously melted marshmallow and served in a tiny mason jar, this’ll win over any bread pudding fan with ease.

Last, and unfortunately, least of all, is the house Texas sheet cake. While a good bit more appealing in the case and hovering somewhere between a brownie and a cake, this dessert turned out entirely too rich for the tastes of everybody at my table. The generous scoop of hand scooped Blue Bell Ice cream was a nice touch, but still not enough to save this dessert. Skip this and head for the bread pudding or the red velvet cake instead.

A little bit of country and little bit of rock’n'roll, Hill Country Barbecue is the perfect mix of a little bit of wrong and a little bit of right. While the implemented ordering system is a bit complicated for newcomers, regular diners who haven’t suffered a coronary from regularly visits will love this Texan outpost that sits in the middle of the touristy streets of Penn Quarter. Service is very friendly and accommodating, and you’re encouraged to stay as long as you like.

Better come in those stretchy, elastic banded eating pants of yours. Don’t wanna put out any eyes with a button popping off.

See Hill Country Barbecue Market on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Homesick Houstonites
• Brisket’n'Brew Barbecue Bromances
• Legbound Landmark Visitin’ Tourists

Not Recommended For:

• Fancy Nancys
• Serve Me Sallys
• Vegetarians
• Frugalistas

Fiola is the new Italian restaurant in DC by Fabio Trabocchi, famous for his creations at Maestro in the Tyson’s Corner Ritz Carlton before the doors closed last year. Despite a slight mixup with the hostess losing our reservation, Jen and I were seated reasonably quickly for a weekend night. The buildout of the restaurant is of very high quality, with custom chandeliers, stone facade walls, and paneled wood walls as far as the eye can see. Despite the restaurant being given the high end treatment, some of the smaller details just didn’t work. Our first clue in was with the menus, with a sueded leather binding and thick, textured pages in between, neither Jen nor I ignore the fact that these were quite possibly the most flaccid menus we’d ever seen. The menu droops in your hand like…well, a sad flower (coughcoughpeniscoughcough) and the ink fails to adhere to the paper, leaving them virtually useless.

Thankfully, we received a different set of menus at our table than we did at the bar, ones a fair bit more legible. I’ll be the first to say that neither Jen or I would consider ourselves large, or even average sized Americans, but getting into the booth seating in between tables is virtually impossible unless you’re a size 0 as a woman, or, well, a size 0 as a man. I graciously took the chair seating at our table instead.

The bread service is a nice treat, a spiral shaped rolled bun that’s very reminiscent of a super fresh croissant, possibly the best bread service I’ve had in a long time. I’m sure the restaurant is quite aware of this, as you only get one to carry you through your meal, with just a tiniest bit of olive oil to accompany it. The olive oil to bread ratio is slightly disparaging, possibly due to the fact that I soaked up the entire puddle with one deft swab of my bread.

After several minutes of pouring over our menus, we decided to split the fried mozzarella balls, which turned out to be more a duo of mozzarella balls. These aren’t your Costco brand mozzarella digs. You know the kind I’m talking about, heavy on the bread, with a 75% chance of biting into… a hollow mozzarella case. Don’t you hate that ish? It’s like the stupid company that produces them should be selling “PARTY SIZED MOZZARELLA AIR BALLS” instead. Ridiculous.

Where was I? Mozzarella balls. Right.

These are fully and completely stuffed with a warm, chewy mozzarella, served in an sweet, aromatic tomato sauce and topped with just the perfect amount of parmesan. Absolutely amazing, although take care not to inhale these or you’ll miss out entirely.

Jen ordered the baby artichoke salad, which turned out nothing like either one of us had expected, not to say that’s a bad thing. The baby artichokes tasted like a cross between a typical artichoke and a radish, julienned and served with cheese (pecorino? manchego?) and a zesty green sauce of some sort.  A really fantastic salad, unlike any we’ve had before.

I ordered the Crostini of Cod, Tomato, and Oregano, served Fisherman style, based on the waiter’s recommendation. A trio of crostinis, each served with two hearty chunks of cod. A good balance on flavor, ingredients, and presentation, but I couldn’t help but feel a little bit underwhelmed after having devoured this dish. Maybe it was the fact that the waiter said it was possibly the best thing on the menu.* Maybe it was the fact that I was expecting a giant side of cod on a massive raft made of bread.** Maybe it just wasn’t that amazing of a dish.

Jen ordered the Pappardelle with oyster and royal trumpet mushrooms, a complete vegetarian’s delight. This dish carries itself like a meat pasta without the meat. Wide ribbons of pappardelle are mixed with chunks of sauteed mushrooms, then served in a savory brown sauce fit to satiate even the meat-eatiest of meateaters.

I had the Cacio & Pepe, a spaghetti chiatarra served with sheep’s milk based cacio cheese, crushed black peppercorns, and what amounted to a white sauce without the cream. Heavy without being overly decadent, and a well executed spaghetti dish, despite my initial reservations.

We skipped out on ordering desserts, but the kitchen graciously delivered a trio of sweets to each of us, with from left to right a chocolate chip macaroon, a mini gingerbread and caramel sammich, and jelly and shortbread biscuit sammich. All delicious, but both Jen and I agreed on the chocolate chip macaroon being the best of the three.

I’m at odds with the service here. While we never waited too long to order, to have our food delivered, or to have our water glasses refilled, our waiter never offered on a second glass of wine for Jen or bring plates for our either of our two rounds of appetizers without me expressly asking. The service has potential, but still needs a considerable bit of polishing and work. Despite a few gaffs, the overall experience was very good. Patrons tend to be on the well dressed side, so wearing at least a button down shirt if not a sports coat is advised for attending gentlemen. The damage is actually fairly reasonable for an upscale DC dining experience without the stuffiness, and despite entering a sea of Italian restaurants already flooding the streets of the District, I have a feeling that Fiola will do just fine.

See Fiola on a map here. (entrance on Indiana Avenue).

Recommended For:

• Pastafarians
• Vegetarians
• Paleoheads (there’s a ton of meat dishes here, too)
• Special Occasions

Not Recommended For:

• Thriftmasters
• Codependent Carls
• Stripclub-bound Downtown Hounds
• Zone Dieters

* He didn’t actually say that.

** I did actually hope for that.

DC is blessed with a gastroculture that can accommodate nearly all varietal tastes. Finding a niche cuisine that hasn’t already been overdone or given the title of “The best **** in DC.” is a challenge in itself, so it’s nice to find a place that attempts to do things a little differently.

Kushi Izakaya & Sushi Bar requires a little bit of background history and explanation to fully appreciate it’s contribution to the food scene. I’d assume that most people know what a sushi bar is, but the mentioning of izakaya conjures up visualizations of quirky anime comic strips and a giant fire-breathing lizard that stomps out the buildings of Tokyo.

Or maybe right now you’re thinking of a dance off with said Godzilla against and equally gigantic personality.

An izakaya refers to a Japanese establishment that focuses primarily on drinks, especially after work, but still serves food. Think of it as a place that falls somewhere in between a full on restaurant and a full on bar, or even as a Japanese tapas house. While the concept is a fairly popular one in Japan, it’s not necessarily one that might stand up on its own here in the states, so the inclusion of a sushi bar is a pretty smart plan.

The izakaya portion of Kushi seems to center around bite-sized skewers of meat, which vary between chicken, pork, duck, and beef.  Each skewer comes out on with a pinch of sea salt and seasoning, so you can adjust the flavor our your meat accordingly.

Unfortunately for me, I came in on the last day of a local promotion, and a number of dishes I chose with the served seemed to be popular, and therefore, completely sold out.

Me: I’d like to order the wagyu beef skewer.

Waitress: We’re out of that.

Me: Okay, I’ll take the pork belly, the pork rib, and a chicken with scallions skewer.

What came out were two pork bellies and a chicken skewer, which was pretty close to what I ordered. Y’know, except my pork rib. C’mon, where my pork rib? I mean how much for just one rib? Eight dollars? GOOD LAWD.

The same story went for my salad.

Me: I’d also like to order the seaweed salad.

Waitress: Oh, we’re out of that too.

Me: Okay, well I guess that leaves me to the house salad  instead.

At least the house salad wasn’t a giant bowl of iceberg lettuce with some shredded carrots. The bowl of mixed greens comprised of spinach, arugula, and cherry tomatoes with a ginger dressing was a nice substitution, although clearly an issue for people like Jen if the only other available vegetarian options are the pickled vegetables on the menu.

Me: I’ll have the wagyu hot plate as my main course, please.

Waitress: We’re…out of that, too.

Sweet merciful crap, does this restaurant keep anything in the fridge?

Thankfully, the fish here are flown in daily, and the expertly cut slices exude freshness, most notably in the saba (mackerel), my favorite of them all. Saba tastes amazing when it’s fresh, but it gets a distinctively fishier taste the longer it’s been sitting on the shelf. The addition of sea scallops and sea urchin were a nice, unique surprise, as these rarely make their way onto a sashimi plate.

And just to make sure I got everything out of this lunch, I put in for an order of the eel, too.

Kushi still has a couple of wrinkles to smooth out with handling large promotions, but it’s not something I really fault them for, as almost no small business knows just how much they’ll get slammed on the last day before a coupon expires without having experienced it firsthand. The service is average- friendly, but not 100% on point in communicating with the customer or the kitchen. The restaurant has opted for a fairly minimal decorative theme, with enormous paper lanterns that dangle from rafters, a few odds and ends placed up on the walls, but nothing substantial. In retrospect, it would seem that the build out is much better suited for turning the place into a giant bar at night, which is very likely the case, given the name.

If you haven’t had izakaya before, this is certainly a nice introduction to a part of Japanese gastronomic culture, but it’s far from inexpensive here. The izakaya averages out to be about $3/bite, which is high for even urban pricing standards. A lunch will easily run you upwards to $50 with tip, and that’s without the inclusion of drinks. The quality of food is absolutely superb, but I’d be hard pressed to find a reason to go back again, given the prices.

See Kushi on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Sakebomb Sallys
• Business Jerk Powerlunches

Not Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Frugal First Dates
• Agoraphobic Amys

Café Asia could almost be considered a DC institution of restaurants, with a location in Arlington (Rosslyn) and one in DC, of which this writeup focuses on the latter of the two. I’ve been to the restaurant on a couple of occasions, and while it didn’t break any new ground in dining experiences, it was modern, exuded a sleek, club like persona, and had been a reasonable pleasure to dine at both during lunch and dinner.

Jen and I headed over on a Friday night, and immediately upon entering the front doors, it was evident that something was quite different. The dimly lit ambiance was replaced with the lighting scheme of something that’d be more appropriately found in a study hall or a library. I ordered a selection of rolls from the sushi bar for the two of us, an appetizer for myself, and an entree for the each of us. To the credit of the restaurant, our sushi rolls came out to our table within 10 minutes of our order. To our dismay, the rest of our dishes arrive not more than five minutes later. It was quite possibly the first time I really gave thought to the fact that a good server will pay attention to when you dishes come out and control the cadence of delivery, an absolute shit server will let everything come to your table at once.

As for the food, the fried calamari is a good value and the various sushi rolls are slightly above average. The noodle bowls here display a decent array of noodles, but these tend to be disproportionately light on ingredients aside from the noodles and very heavy on the sugary sauce. Jen’s Pad Thai arrived with minced chicken, and despite the menu clearly stating this fact, we had overlooked it in hunger. Jen asked him for a vegetarian version, to which he blankly stated was impossible with the Pad Thai due to the sauce being pre-made, likely stewing in a giant vat from the start of the day. We asked the server to take it back, and did so begrudgingly.

While I wouldn’t call Café Asia the best of restaurants, I can’t say I’ve had a complete disaster of a meal like this before, so bad that I’m willing to say I’ll never eat here again. As it turns out, both restaurants have changed ownership in the past year, a change that is clearly not for the better. The restaurant has all the personality of an ironing board, the service of a half star Parisienne restaurant, and the much needed updating of an appropriately descriptive name, like Cafeteria Asia. Hey guys, don’t forget to bring your algebra books, we’re gonna cram before midterms over here before we go streaking across the quad.

Map? Your money could possibly be better spent buying $40 of scratch-off lottery tickets and huffing a plastic tub filled with gasoline for an hour while you engage in a political debate against a half dressed mannequin on the merits of electing a white-faced saki monkey in a tie and a diaper to Congress.

Indian food isn’t the first thing I think about when I think of Easter. I tend to think of rabbits and eggs, and wonder how this German tradition beat out the resurrection of Jebus in popularity. Easter is also the first real holiday that the ladies can step out in sundresses and ridiculous hats, and boys posing as men can walk around in pants with tiny embroidered animals all over them, paired with a seersucker jacket and consider themselves fashionably prep.

Speaking as someone who doesn’t currently own a screaming child of my own (I’m worried the layaway payments will kill me), it’s hard to find an Easter brunch, and a buffet at that, that doesn’t come chock full of screaming toddlers at every adjacent table. Bombay Club, one of the finer dining Indian cuisine restaurants, does so beautifully.  The restaurant serves a hard to beat price for their buffet brunch ($25 a person at the time of this writing), with an option to upgrade to a bottomless champagne brunch ($35 a person at the time of this writing), and a 80 year old man banging out the best in classical music on the piano to boot.

The selection is high quality, but options are limited to two tables, with each table hosting about 8-10 choices of food and dessert. For the price, atmosphere, and childless crowds, this is a deal that’s nearly impossible to beat on any Easter or Mother’s Day Brunch.

See Bombay Club on a map here.