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.

Rasika finds itself at the forefront of notable Indian restaurants in DC, and with one step inside, it’s easy to see why. Contemporary furnishings abound, a departure from the metal framed chairs with soiled walls that some other Indian restaurants have (which is not say that places like that can’t serve you an amazing Indian meal).

The scene at Rasika is one of a city hotspot, much more so after having been recognized recently in the Washington Post’s Fall 2010 Dining Guide as a place to get your Bolly on*. The din inside takes a raised voice to carry on a conversation across the table. A large bar holds up the left portion of the restaurant, with seating for the restaurant to the right, and a small private dining room sealed off by a patterned sliding door.

Once we were finally seated, Jen and I poured over the menu, along with our server’s recommendations. We started with the Cauliflower Bezule and the Palak Chaat; the former, a plate of deep fried cauliflower, cooked with mustard seeds, curry leaves and green chilies; the latter, fried baby spinach leaves served with sweet yogurt, tamarind, and date chutney. Both of these dishes had more spices than a British all-girl pop band, with less unpleasant aftertaste, too. The flavors of the Cauliflower Bezule create a spicy, savory harmony, and is highly recommended. The Palak Chaat also holds its own, serving up a unique blend of textures with the crispy spinach, intermingled with the creamy sweetness of the yogurt, tamarind, and chutney.

Most of the entrees can be ordered in either a small or large portion, depending on your appetite. For our main course, I ordered the duo Tandoori Lamb Chops for myself, and the small order of the Dal Makhani for Jen.

Here’s where things get ugly.

I’m not going to say that the pork chops tasted bad, because nothing could be farther from the truth. The meat was tender, succulent, aromatic, flavorful, and the size of a golf ball. It’s as if the restaurant decided that only the smallest animals could be used for not only their prized deliciousness, but because who doesn’t like cute, minature objects?

People with Godzilla-like appetites like me, that’s who.  People who eat an entire pig and a chicken family for breakfast, and then wipe their mouth on the closest standing…y’know, cotton…producing…animal…around.  What IS the animal cotton comes from called, anyways? I’m totally blanking. Cotton…mastiff. Whatever.

The whole mini-portion philosophy that many haute couture dining establishments follow annoys me to no end. A top rated restaurant should not only be able to produce high quality dishes to delight patrons, but as a restaurant, I feel I should be able to leave with satisfaction as well.

To further highlight my point, my lamb chops (which would have been better described as lollipops on the menu) came with a dipping sauce, along with the Garlic Naan and Truffle Naan that we ordered.  Jen and I continued to talk, and I waited for her dish to arrive before eating.  That is, until Jen started spooning my dipping sauce onto a shred of naan.  Her lentil, tomato, fennel, and fenugreek dipping sauce entrée.

Whoops.

To be clear, entrees do not come with a complimentary side of rice or naan, which both must be ordered separately.  I made sure to check, having ordered an extra basket of naan during prior occasions, only to be served more naan with my entrée.  No such luck here, which isn’t necessarily a good or bad thing, just a fact to be cognizant of.

We were also informed by our server that the restaurant employs a man whose sole purpose and focus at Rasika is to make naan, custom to order.  The emphasis our server put on this fact seemed slightly ludicrous, and to me, a bit odd; myself being a jack of trades, considering someone whose life choices brought him to become a  master of naan.

The food at Rasika is decidedly superb.  Top ingredients are chosen for a staff who expertly combine textures and tastes into a brilliant execution.  Prices are reasonable per plate, but portions per plate are not.  Staff, everyone from the host to the servers, are accommodating despite an overwhelming crowd.  Making reservations should be considered, and even then, you could still be in for at least a 10-15 minute wait.  I would venture to guess that opting for a table full of small dishes and forgoing the entrées entirely would have done a better job assuaging my hunger.**  That would require making another visit to Rasika, something I’d be more than willing to do.

See Rasika on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Soccer Mom Social Hours
• Paleoheads
• Vegetarians
• Celebrity Singh-ers

Not Recommended For:

• Frugalistas
• First Dates
• Zone Dieters
• Hungry Jack’s

*Not Tom Sietsema’s actual words, apologies to Tom and the WaPo, but hey, it makes for good lol.

**Optionally, you can walk through Chinatown and stop into Eat First like I did, and order the pan fried dumplings, and the Chinese Roasted BBQ Pork.

Jen and I had to really keep an eye out in trying to find Aditi at night. The evening air was electric with life in Georgetown. We almost passed by the restaurant twice in our search for the place, with a tiny awning just above the front door barely proclaiming its existence, squelched to barely a murmur next to the bright lights of Georgetown Cupcake across the street. I’ve roamed up and down M street (the main street that cuts through Georgetown’s Business District) many times, and I can’t say I’ve ever seen or heard of this place. My lack of knowledge, however, should not speak as the brevity of Aditi’s existence, as their menu states that they’ve held their very location for well over 20 years.

The first floor you come to greets you to a hostess stand, with a short set of stairs up to a bar. Another flight of stairs leads you farther up to the main dining area, lined with more floor to ceiling mirrors and dimly glowing lights than a porn star’s bedroom at night. Jen noted that it gave the space a much larger appearance, while I noted that it was great for people watching as from our seats, you could see every single other patron in the room.

Nobody’s going to come running up behind me to stab a knife into my back.

I ordered the Majaraha Platter (natch), a cornucopia of meat, which the French would kindly call “La Degustation”.  Everything from lamb, chicken, beef, and shrimp, this was probably the best way to sample all of Aditi’s meats.  Nothing extraordinary, but the quality was good, with nary a dry meat offering on the plate.  The sauteed vegetables were fairly mediocre, but the fact that the order comes with a small basket of naan makes up for where the vegetables and rice lack.

If I had realized this dish came with it’s own bread, I don’t think we would have ordered a separate basket of mixed breads as well.

Stacked with enough puffed grains covered in butter to give a flock of pigeons all coronaries, the breads here are very good, especially to wrap the meats in the Majaraha Platter.  I particularly liked the onion bread, but given that I don’t eat breads or grains at all during the week, this stuff was little more than a basket of delicious crack to me.

What?

What do you mean crack’s not delicious?

Jen went with her Indian cuisine favorite, the Chana Masala.  I think she’s the region leading expert on Chana Masala by now.  Her verdict?  The dish was good, but it lacked any sort of spiciness that she was expecting.  In fact, it turns out this version of the chickpea dish was about as spicy as a glass of milk.

The service here is reasonable, with several wait staff always hovering about, quick to fill your glass of water and attend to your every need.  The location is also great for that post shopping meal when you’re looking for something slightly more ethnic than pizza, but just ever so.  The indian cuisine here has been dulled down to the basic ingredients and offerings, with none of the exoticness of true Indian fare.  It’s not to say that any of the food here is bad, but the dishes do their best to be as inoffensive to the palette as possible.

The portions and prices here are, however, quite appealing, and it’s nice to have something different than what you’d expect to find in the neighborhood.

See Aditi Indian Cuisine on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Plain Janes
• Vegetarians
• Bread Buffs
• People Who Own Rotating Beds

Not Recommended For:

• A Party In Your Mouth
• Palette Discos
• First Dates
• Wedding Receptions
• People Who Like To Play Bloody Mary

Dupont Circle once was the darling neighborhood of DC.  Businesses crammed themselves into every available space, and the various streets leading into the circle- Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, P, and 19th, are filled to the gills with an array of restaurants adorned with neon signs and shielded by faded awnings.  Jen and I stopped into Taj Mahal, which had it not been our destination for the evening, would have never been something I’d even consider visiting.  The restaurant does little to garner the attention of passing pedestrians such as myself, but the problem arises from the fact that the restaurant’s public facing signs are only visible if one is constantly looking up while walking down the street.

We climbed the flight of stairs to the second floor, where the restaurant sits with a view to Connecticut Avenue below.  We were quickly and politely seated, and left to peruse our menus.

Our first appetizer, a set of Pakoras, is an assortment of vegetables coated in chickpea batter and fried to perfection, then served with a pair of chutneys and ready to go.  These things were awesome!  Not too heavy nor greasy, and the flavors of the vegetables were heightened rather than dulled by the chickpea batter.  A highly recommended dish to start your meal.

We also split an order of the assorted bread basket, a triple stack of naans, baked with onions, garlic, and assorted herbs.  In retrospect, Jen and I should have waited to eat this with our entrees, but we were so ravenous that we took down more than half the bread before those dishes even arrived.  We asked for a yogurt dipping sauce to go with the bread, which was a fantastic accompaniment.  I have to point out that the yogurt sauce here is thick, rich, and fresh, and completely unique in comparison to the yogurt sauces I’ve had in many other Indian restaurants.

Jen’s entree and perennial Indian cuisine favorite, the Chana Masala, looked and tasted great.  The dish seemed to come swimming in a more curry based sauce rather than a tomato based sauce like most restaurants prepare it, but it didn’t negatively impact her enjoyment of it.  Not particularly a lively dish, but nothing bad about this one, either.

I wagered on the Lamb Madras – large chunks of lamb coated in a fragrant and moderately spicy coconut curry sauce.  The waiter did his best to evaluate my tolerance for spicitivity before taking my order.

Waiter: On a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being not spicy at all and 10 being the most spicy, how much can you handle?

Me: About a 6 or a 7.

Waiter: (Nods approvingly) Then you will enjoy this dish.

I should have removed a matchbook from my pocket and extinguished a lit match on my tongue, all while staring him in the eye, but mayhaps such a display of arrogance would have been a bit over the top for a simple question like this.

He was probably envisioning something more along the lines of…

My take on the Lamb Madras?  An excellent dish.  The curry was spicy but not searing, and the lamb was tender, tearing at the slightest pull of a fork.  Watch out for the peppers sitting on top though, that’s like eating a small stick of dynamite.

Considering this was a cheat meal, Jen and I had to get the puddin’. Awww yeah.

Bear in mind, this is no Kozy Shack pudding that you used to eat back in the day.  The rice pudding here is definitely spiced and mixed with almonds and raisins, but still very much a delight.  Thankfully, Jen declined to get into a spoonfight over the last bit in the cup as we plowed through this dessert, but I’ve got my eye on her to stab me in the neck with a spoon the next time I’m not looking.

The decor inside the Taj Mahal Restaurant unfortunately does not reflect the name.  Wood paneled walls and paper place settings hardly evokes an atmosphere of grandeur, and prices here are a bit on the higher end because of the proximity to Dupont Circle.  However, the dishes are well prepared and tasty, but not quite extraordinary.  The service we were treated to was possibly the best service we have had in months, and in that respect, perhaps the restaurant does in a way find a way to make it befitting of its namesake.  Dinner here is good, but it would seem that the big draw is to come in for their lunch buffet, as long as you can make it past the food coma that succeeds it.

See the Taj Mahal Restaurant on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Four Star Service
• Curry Consumptionaries
• Vegetarians
• Indian Afficianados

Not Recommended For:

• Frugalistas
• Carbophobes
• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters
• First Dates

Jen and I took a trip to Miami over the weekend, and had the great opportunity to sample a number of restaurants of all walks of life.  Miami Beach, for not being a gastrocentric culture, certainly has its fair share of restaurants that proliferate the main thoroughfares of Collins Ave, Washington Ave, and Lincoln Road.  We were in search of Indian food, to which Jen had only had previous dining experiences at a more upscale Indian restaurant that seemed a bit too costly for a casual night out.  A bit of searching and we decided to take a gamble on Guru.

The restaurant falls somewhat off the beaten path, tucked away on one of the side streets of South Beach.  Stepping inside, there were few occupied tables, which put a bit of apprehension into us.  A quartet of friends near the window.  A couple on their first date, with the woman a good deal more imbibed than the man.  And a lot more empty tables in this small establishment.  Nevertheless, we picked our seat and dove right in.

We put in an order of the Spinach Pakora and the Tandoori Broccoli to start.  The former, a set of fried cauliflower and spinach patties served with a corriander based hari chutney.  Deep fried and a bit salty, but also very satisfying with every bite.  I don’t recall if we were served five or six, but I do remember taking the majority of them when Jen was distracted with the Tandoori Broccoli.  The broccoli was pretty much served up as the name described it- about 2 cups of broccoli seasoned and cooked in a tandoori oven, giving the florets a nice soft and baked taste and texture, and served with a sweet chili dipping sauce.  A very good appetizer, although a bit light in portion.  We were also treated to a a complimentary basket of sliced naan, accompanied with a cucumber yogurt dipping sauce, totally comped.  It began to dawn on us that maybe this place was more of a neighborhood establishment than one of the tourist traps of Ocean Drive.

While waiting for our main courses, Jen plowed through her pinot grigio, patiently waiting for the waiter to come by and ask to refill her glass.

That didn’t exactly happen.

So she waited.  And waited. And then….she waited some more.

And finally!

She got up and walked the 10 feet to the bar, where the waiter stood, face illuminated by the pale light of his crackberry, furiously tweeting away.

Waiter: OMG SO BORED. #atwork

Waiter: MY BLONDE HIGHLIGHTS ARE SO HOT RIGHT NOW #southbeachdiva

Waiter: @SpaceResidentDJ Can you like, put me on the guest list tonight?  And comp me some drinks?  LOL!  UR THE BEST!

Well, at least, that’s what I’d imagine was going on over there.  He was at least, apologetic, and quickly refilled oenophilic’s glass.  Comped.

Nice.  At least there’s some sort of consolation for his nonstop tweeting.  Although we didn’t find out we were comped on the wine until the end of dinner, so it was really just an added bonus.  With Jen being as laid back as she is, which is about as laid back as a Olympic luger going backwards down the side of K2, she was perfectly happy with just having another glass of wine.

My girlfriend rules.

Our entrees came quickly thereafter.  For the main event, Jen ordered the Channa Masala-  her default vegetarian dish of choice.  It’s never quite prepared exactly the same way from restaurant to restaurant, so she does get a bit of variety in it, but in the end, the basic premise remains the same.  Chickpeas cooked in a tomato and onion gravy, infused with varying amounts of turmeric, coriander, garlic, chilies, garam masala, and a host of other spices.  Nothing too outstanding about the way Guru prepared this dish, but at the same time, she was satisfied with it all the same.

I ordered the Nilgiri Korma, which really intrigued me from the moment I saw it on the menu.  Beef cooked in an almond, yogurt, and coconut curry sauce.  It sounds odd, which is exactly why I ordered it.  Truth be told, it was actually a good deal better than I had expected.  The creamy curry sauce with a slow simmered beef was exactly what I needed.  I skipped the mountain of rice that came with the dish, but made sure to consume the rest of the sauce with the mini salad at the base of the rice.

I suppose somewhere in there the waiter realized he screwed up, and we were presented with a Gulab Jamun, completely comped.  The best I could describe it (since it doesn’t appear on the menu) is a pair of gelatinous balls of dough, soaked in syrup, and served in an martini glass filled with ice cream and whipped cream.  Jen, the trooper that she is, took down the majority of the dish since I was trying to behave and not stray too far from my diet.

Guru’s a pretty good restaurant amongst the throng of pizza parlors and sushi dens that litter South Beach, and proof you don’t have to pay a king’s ransom to get a good meal.  As it goes with most places near the beach, gratuity is included in the bill, so not only should you not feel inclined to tip more if you don’t feel the service was up to snuff, you should also expect the service to be a bit more lackadaisical than you’re used to.  Having been comped the free basket of naan, a glass of pinot grigio, and a dessert, how could you go wrong?

See Guru Indian Restaurant on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Bollywood Buffs
• Sauce lovers
• Paleo heads

Not Recommended For:

• Attention Whores
• Carbophobes
• Bargain Diners
• Dinner before getting that tattoo you’ve always wanted at Miami Ink

The Bombay Club is nestled comfortably along the K street corridor, easily going unnoticed unless you were specifically looking for the establishment.  I have probably walked by it more times than I could count on both hands, but it just doesn’t exude a presence from the outside.  Once inside, however, you’re treated to something that is clearly a favorite haunt of policy makers and lawyers alike.  The atmosphere inside is a cross between a contemporary spa and an old colonial English hunting club.  Candles flicker in pattern-printed glass walls with your gaze to the left, and bagged Bengal tigers on black and white safari hunt photos are worn by the walls to your right.  If there were any uncertainty as to whether everything around you really was fascinating or mildly disturbing, the food erased any reservations I had about having dinner there for Restaurant Week.

Aloo Tikki Ragda

Jen started her three course hunt with the Aloo Tikki Ragda, a dish of potato, white peas, ginger, cumin, and date chutney.  Delicious, fragrant, and very rich, a great way for her to start whittling down her appetite.

Bombay Sev Puri

I had the Bombay Sev Puri – potato, mango and onion puri dumplings, fully coated in a delectably fashion crisp flake and then covered in chutney and spice.  The dumplings were actually very light in taste, allowing the absolutely cataclysm of textures fully overtake your mouth.

Jen’s main course was a wild assortment of exotic flavors: creamy dumplings, spinach sauteed in ghee, spicy curries, and a pride of small dishes that each were presented in sterling silver bowls, brought over on a sterling silver plate.  Clearly such an entree would have to be so rare and different that it came disappeared from my collection of photos, and doesn’t even appear on their menu.  In guise of it’s poorly lit photo, here is a monocle wearing velociraptor riding an old-timey bicycle instead.

For my main course, I ordered the Mixed Grill- an assortment of grilled salmon, chicken and spiced beef, served with a spicy dipping sauce and a bit of rice.  Neglecting the rice, I pounced on the meats…and was fully impressed with them.  The chicken were chunks of dark meat, succulent, juicy, and perfect.  The salmon was also well prepared, soft and giving at the slightest pull of a fork, and charred on the outside, but just so.  The seasoned beef, while tasty, wasn’t particularly outstanding, just a standard preparation that played more of a supporting role than as the star.

Mixed Grill

Our desserts equally made a favorable impression on the both of us, yet once again, Jen somehow picked the better dish.  Hers, the Rabri- a sweet yogurt like dish served with fresh blueberries in a martini glass, a concoction that was just the right amount of sweet in just the right portion.

Rabri

Mine, the Carrot Halwa –  an Indian carrot pudding cake, served with a cinnamon anglaise.

Carrot Halwa

That’s not to say that my dessert wasn’t good and completely obliterated from existence in a scant two minutes, but it didn’t hold a light to the clearly suprerior Rabri.  I swear, the girl always picks better dishes than I do.

Well, unless it comes to meat.  Served in a meat sauce.  With a side of meat.

The Bombay Club simply is not what you’d expect of an Indian cuisine restaurant, and that is a good thing.  While it does have the roti, the naan, curries, chutneys, and other fanciful dishes that make Indian restaurants so great, they serve it at a slightly more upscale experience, which really makes this a destination worth going.  Prices aren’t cheap, but they’re not expensive, either.  Three course price fixe Restaurant Week deals are absolute steal, and I might just have to go back here again to check out their lauded Sunday Brunch sometime soon.  The dishes are, as you can see from the photos, presented in a fashion that isn’t commonplace at many Indian restaurants, and it makes each dish that much more of a delight.  The service is on point, and acclimating to your every request.  While you don’t have to show up in a blazer or haute coutre dress, I wouldn’t roll up in a t-shirt and jeans, either.

Check out the Bombay Club on a map here.

Recommended for:

• Curry Queens
• Naan Noshers
• Vegetarians
• Pescetarians

Not Recommended for:

• Paleo Heads
• Carb Counters
• Steak’n'Potato’ers
• Screaming Children

UPDATE: I found the photo of Jen’s dish after all!

Mehak‘s a bit of an oddity, being a steadfast Indian restaurant in the heart of DC’s Chinatown.  Well, at least, that might have at least once been the case when the businesses of Chinatown were actually Chinese establishments, and not business chains such as Starbucks with just the name out front in Chinese.

So maybe then, it’s not so bad.  Maybe an independent business that’s outlasted just about every other store and survived the waves of ever increasing rent is worth checking into.  So that’s exactly what Jen and I did.  Mehak is just north of the bright jumbotron lights, a two floor establishment that’s cheerfully painted and decorated with a worn in feel.  The wait staff is friendly and have timing down to a science, knowing exactly when to step in.  We were treated to at least three different servers, all who were wearing Santa hats in celebration of sweet, sweet, six pound, seven ounce baby Jebus.

We started off with the Veggie Samosas.  Two super deep fried twinkies turnovers stuffed with potatoes and green peas.  Not really the most amazing dish, but not terrible, either.  The skin is thick as your grandmother’s feet, and just slightly better tasting after you dunk it in the accompanying sauce.  I’m not altogether too familiar with Indian sauces, but after a quick Googlification of the subject, it’s most likely the cilantro based Hari Chutney.  Any takers on if I’m wrong?  It most definitely comes slathered on slabs of salmon at Indian eat-o-ramas, but it was interesting to see it served up on its own.

Veggie Samosas

The naan breads here definitely make up for the slack.  Who doesn’t like the taste of vicious refined carbohydrates?  We ordered the triple threat combo: Poori (fried whole wheat), Onion Kulcha (baked and stuffed with spicy chopped onions) and the basic naan.  I was a little sad that we didn’t get any of the Roti in with the order, but after sobbing hysterically in the bathroom for a few minutes, all was well.  The bathrooms, by the way, are upstairs, which is completely shuttered during dinner hours.  The heat is turned off in the winter, and the A/C is likely nixed for the summer, all cost cutting measures that have obviously kept this place going strong and not turning into another Starbucks.

Drinks* here are great.  The mango lassi tastes amazing.  Both the mango and the lassi really stand out in this drink, but I’d say more the former than the latter.

If anything, it might be the best drink there. At one point, Jen pointed out to me that they even had Franzia on the wine list.

Me: Oh, you mean the one listed as a Rosé?
Jen: I didn’t even see that one. Wait! There’s another!
Me: Three Franzias on the wine list?
Jen: Wow. That’s STRONG.

I can’t tell you how great it is when my girl says something like that to me.

Jen ordered the Masala Chana, a traditional Indian dish of chickpeas cooked in onion, tomato, and various spices.  She commented that this one had a much meatier taste to the sauce, which was great!

Masala Chana

I ordered the Malai Chicken Tikka, which is chicken marinated in yogurt and spiced, and then baked in a traditional Tandoor clay oven, with sexy results.  And this order was nothing short of sexy.  The chicken was succulent, perfectly spiced, and arrived in enormous two to three inch chunks.  Obviously a dish to be shared by a normal eating couple, I managed to finish it without feeling overwhelmingly ill.

Malai Chicken Tikka

The dining experience at Mehak isn’t an extravagant one, but still, remains a very satisfying one.  Service is good, the quality is good, and the portions are good.

Recommended for:

• Casual dinner night
• Paleoheads
• Vegetarians
• Indian cuisine aficionados

Not Recommended for:

• Formal events
• Wine snobs
• Awkward first dates
• Impressing out of town guests
• Last meal before hopping on a transatlantic flight

* Non-alcoholic drinks.

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My parents were coming in for a visit to make the most of some time off, so I figured it’d be a perfect opportunity to introduce them to Jen and catch the last of Restaurant Week in DC at the same time at indebleu. The restaurant sits near the corner of 7th and G St in NW, just opposite the throbbing display of the jumbotron of the Verizon Center. I’ve eaten at indebleu for Restaurant Week when the doors first opened a few years ago, and my initial impression of the food served was less satisfactory. The memory of dry chunks of chicken in a creamy, oily sauce that had little indication of anything other than a mass produced vat of the stuff waiting to be served to Restaurant Week customers has kept me from visiting again, but a friend had mentioned that the chef had changed since my last visit (closer examination on the Googles has actually proved that there have been several chef changes, including spare change, a tire change, and a sex change, but none of that really matters in the discussion of food) with Chef Michael Hartzer currently at the helm (having created previous culinary impressions at both Ray’s the Classics and Citronelle).

We went up to the 2nd floor (the first floor houses a room full of monkeys seated at typewriters and some sort of bar) and were quickly whisked away to our table by the hostess. The décor is much more subdued with rich, dark tones, contrasting starkly to the minimalist white and blue theme that had been initially in place a few years back. The ambient noise is a bit higher than conversational, probably to compensate for the untz-untz-untz-disco-untz-untz-untz of the lounge downstairs. There were several times that we had to ask one another to repeat what we just said because the din of the other patrons droned out our own conversation.

Service here is, without hyperbole, probably the most uber attentive of any restaurant I’ve ever visited. Within 60 seconds, we were asked on whether we would prefer sparking, flat, or Potomac water at the table. Within the next two minutes, we were asked the same question again by two completely different waiters. A woman elegantly dressed in gold hues smiled and greeted us, as if her only duty at indebleu was to walk around as a professional greeter (isn’t that what a hostess is?) and make sure that you haven’t somehow become disgruntled with how the seating process was handled, or if you were to make the request that the clamor around you wasn’t loud enough, and that you wanted an accordion-sitar-trombone-standup-bass quartet to come and play your favorite Journey hits for you.

I was slightly miffed at the fact that you can only order from the price-fixe Restaurant Week setup, with no a la carte options available, because I know both Jen and my mom are fairly light eaters. I also remembered that the portions tend to be a bit on the small side (don’t let this discourage you, they are rich enough to keep you content) so I figured everything would work itself out…and it did.

Bay Scallop in Green Thai Curry

My dad and I both ordered the Bay Scallop Green Curry to start. Two medium sized, seared scallops, divided by a border of Thai green curry ratatouille, served with a simple but well thought out presentation. My mom ordered the Tuna Tartare Spring Roll with a curried cognac remoulade, and Jen opted for the Thai Style Vichyssoise, a chilled potato and Kaffir lime soup. Everyone seemed pleased with their order, and already the restaurant was overturning my previously set impressions.

Wild Mushroom Pasta

For the main course, Jen went with the Wild Mushroom Pasta, which she commented tasting more like a delicious Vegetarian Stroganoff. My Dad went for the Slow Cooked Beef Short Ribs, although the meat that came out looked more slices of flank steak rather than short ribs. My Mom ordered the Masala Seared Salmon, but commented that the accompanying lentils were flavorless, lifeless, and had the soul of a Tupperware container (She didn’t really say that. She said the soul of a plastic bag. (She didn’t really say that either.)) I had the Peruvian Style Roast Chicken, and was very pleased that the chicken didn’t come out dry but actually tender, moist, and just about close to perfection, although I’ve yet to try Nando’s Peri-Peri. I’m sure the Peruvian chicken from there is on an altogether different level being more of a casual dining meal whereas indebleu is a more elegant experience, but I always try to keep in mind that good food is still good food, and it’s out there just begging to be eaten!

Peruvian Style Roast Chicken

The desserts were pretty good with lots of opportunity for creativity, and the kitchen definitely poured that into these dishes. Jen and my Dad ordered L’Opera- A layered cake with almond biscuits, almond ice cream, chocolate ganache, and served with a scoop of pistachio ice cream. My mom and I ordered the Creamsicle – orange mousse and honey mascarpone, served with ice cream on top of a mango suzette. I didn’t particularly think the suzette really fit into the textures of the rest of the dessert, and was entirely too difficult to break apart without loudly driving the spoon into the table like a cro-magnon (you get one guess as to who did that, and it wasn’t my Mom).

L'Opera

Overall, the dishes seemed to try and incorporate the fusion idea that a lot of places seem to cling to when they can’t nail down a consistent theme, but it does offer an opportunity for lots of creativity with their dishes, and that’s definitely something indebleu has one. As for the lady in gold? Apparently she’s the co-owner of indebleu with her husband, making sure that every customer is getting their money’s worth from their visit. Indebleu might not make it as one of my favorite places to go, but it’s definitely a good leap up from the place I had dinner at several years ago, and worth spending a few dollars to eat at if you’re looking for something different during Restaurant Week next year.

One of the great things about living in the suburbs of the Washington DC area is the wide array of authentic ethnic dining from a dizzying array of choices. It almost seems absurd that having Indian cuisine for dinner would be one of the less exotic choices you could go with around here. Regardless, many of the Indian restaurants I’ve eaten at are of above average to excellent quality, without the severe price hike you’d come to expect dining within the District.

Minerva is an excellent chain of restaurants serving up authentic North Indian cuisine. Each of the various suburban locations (four in the DC Metro area: Fairfax, Chantilly, Centreville, and Gaithersburg) has the added bonus of offering a lunch buffet that is guaranteed to send you to foodcomaville (population: you) for hours on end. Afternoon productivity? Don’t count on it.

For this visit, Jen and I dropped into the Fairfax location. The space is larger than it appears from the outside with cavernous depth and styled with simple decor, probably in favor of the various large 42 inch LCD televisions that adorn the walls. Service here isn’t particularly great, but it’s not terrible either. Visiting is definitely to take advantage of the well-priced dining.

You have your choice of ordering either a la carte (another French term, which translates roughly to “from the kitchen via a flaming wheelbarrow”) or the full dinner entree. The a la carte option will get you the dish you ordered with no sides, although it’s pretty likely that whatever you picked pairs up very well with a separate order of naan (traditional Indian flatbread). Jen wisely went this route, ordering up the Chana Masala (chickpeas aka garbanzo beans in a tomato sauce) with a side of Garlic Naan.

Chana Masala, photo courtesy of Seattle Pi

I ordered the Chicken Pasanda dinner, which arrived with a small army of sauce samplers, rice, and plain naan. I really wish I could identify all the various sauces/dips that came with my order, but none of them really stood out. There was one yogurt sauce, three tomato based sauces, and another sauce that had fried cubed of cottage cheese, with the texture of firm tofu. There was also some sort of bread pudding like dish that had a unique and mildly sweet flavor to it.

The Chicken Pasanda, however, is OUTSTANDING. The sauce is a yogurt and curry based sauce that I was close to devouring up with a spoon after finishing off the chicken. That alone is worth it for me to return to this place and go Shiva-Destroyer-of-Worlds on their buffet selection.

Pasanda Curry, photo courtesy of myindianfoodrecipes.com

If you’re a wine drinker, you’re in for a treat. Wine is on the super cheap here. Jen seriously considered the merits of ordering a half carafe at the FIRE! sale price of $8, but then opted to go for just a glass to avoid having to pay her respects to the Porcelain God after we got home. Still, the wine by the glass is an extraordinary deal. The waiter gingerly walked from the bar to our table with her glass of riesling, and it wasn’t until when he set it on the table, almost completely filled to the brim, did it dawn on me why he was doing the ninja trot in the first place.

If you’re going to make a visit for dinner, I’d suggest going to the a la carte route with the naan of your choice. The value is better if you consider going for something other than the regular naan, and you’re not missing out on much from the dinner entree. You’ll also have a bit more room for dessert, which Jen and I missed out on this go around. She really talked up the Gulab Jamoon at Minerva, which are described as deep fried dumplings of dried milk and flour soaked in a sugar syrup. Sweet merciful glycemic overload that sounds like it should come with a waiver. There’s apparently something about the process of creating these things where the dumplings defy physics and nature, soaking in more syrup that should be physically possible. I’ll head back soon and report more on these deep fried black holes soon.

All this fantastic food with nary a word of breaking the bank. Nice.

Peshawari Naan

Mint is a little Indian restaurant that can be found at 150 East 50th, nestled between 3rd and Lexington in Midtown. The decor is very modern that could easily transition the space into a lounge at night. If several tables full of Indian diners is any indication to the authenticity and the deliciousness of the food, then this is the spot for some amazing Indian deliciousness to storm your gullet. We started off with the Lasooni Gobi, a tasty fried cauliflower dish doing laps in a pool of tomato garlic sauce. The entrees came quickly thereafter- Jen had the Amritsari Chole, chickpeas cooked in a tomato and onion sauce, while I made quick word of the Lamb Pasanda, a close relative of Lambchop cooked in a rich curry sauce. All this was taken down with Peshawari Naan, an Indian flatbread stuffed with coconut, almonds, raisins, and cranberries.  Service was attentive, which is always a plus.  We never waited too long to order or be served our food, and our glasses were never left empty.

Lamb Pasanda, precooked

So how was it? The Lasooni Gobi was delicious. I spent a good amount of time trying to deconstruct the dish so I could make it later down the road for Jen. As far as I could tell, it was several large chunks of cauliflower, quickly deep fried in vegetable oil and then dressed with a sugary tomato garlic sauce that didn’t seem like it would be too difficult to reproduce, but I’ll have to research the sauce a good bit later. Jen loved the Amritsari Chole, but I wasn’t a big fan of the dish myself. I really enjoyed the Lamb Pasanda, with the tender chunks of meat in a rich and vibrant sauce that reminded me of my formative childhood years spent in Notrth India…

Wait. I’m Chinese.  That’s somebody else’s memory.

Anyways, it was a solid dish.  Definitely order a side of naan to make the most of the sauce, and a much better way to savor every last bit of whatever you order instead of rice.  Jen thoroughly enjoyed an Elderflower Champagne drink (the name escapes me) and it tasted just boozy to me, so it comes highly recommended from the both of us should you decide that it is necessary to get your swerve on.  We deferred on Indian desserts so we could make the local cupcake shop our next destination…Crumbs Bakery.