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.

Michel Richard’s Central (pronounced mee-shall ree-shard’s sen-trall) is an establishment of fancy dishes served in a laid back atmosphere. The intent of the restaurant is for someone who arrives in a tshirt and jeans should be as welcome as the man wearing a sportcoat and pressed pants, but you’re more likely to see the latter than the former in attendance.

The appetizers here vary in satisfaction. Les Gougères (cheese puffs) are a treat if you’re a vegetarian- small bite sized pastries filled with melted cheese that can be inhaled faster than Rick James set in front a plate full of coke.

The Charcuterie plate has a sampling of country pate, La Queceria proscuitto, and assorted salami. Bold flavors really come out in these thinly sliced sheets.

My appetizer, the Pork Belly Confit with a Chile BBQ Sauce, was absolutely knock-off-your-socks good. The thick chunks of pork belly carried a fantastic combination of textures, both the crispy fried tops down to the juicy, meaty sections of belly beneath, all laid out on a swath of barbecue sauce. The price tag on this dish is a bit steep at $3 per bite, but the sheer amount of deliciousness makes up for it.

The lamb shank at Central is no joke, either. I’m always slightly worried about portioning with a dish like this, but Central does not disappoint, with a large portion of lamb, served with creamy corn polenta and fried onion strips, topped with a fresh sprig of rosemary.  The portions of tender, succulent lamb fall off the bone with the slightest pull of your fork, and the rich sauce that tops it makes my mouth water just writing this.

You can’t have a dish like that without a proper paleo side, so I opted for the small cast iron pan of Brussel Sprouts and Bacon. I was dismayed with how small of a dish comes out, as you can see in proportion to the serving spoon in the photo below. I do credit Central for pairing a classic combination of meat and vegetable here, but for a side that’s good but not great, I’d give this one a pass on my next visit.

Personally, Central was my first experience with gourmet burger houses in DC. While I’ve had a number of high end burgers throughout the metro DC area, Central served me my first taste of how a burger should be done. That being said, the burgers here aren’t inexpensive, but if you do pick one from their selection, you won’t be disappointed.

Desserts here are equally as good, such as their Opera Cake…

Or their rendition of the Napoleon Cake…

Or even their Chocolate Lava Cake.

While Central may not be the newest restaurant in the neighborhood, it stays as one that consistently puts out quality dishes with a very good array of choices to please just about any appetite, unless you happen to be a vegan or a vegetarian. Prices are not modest here, but they aren’t exorbitant for the quality you’d expect to get, either. I’ve been to Central on more than several occasions and I’ve never failed to be disappointed with any meal I’ve had, and I’d readily go back again.  The service here is very friendly, accommodating, and helpful with recommendations if you’re having a hard time choosing. There’s also are a plethora of other more interesting options for the more adventurous types, like the Frog Legs, the Sauteed Calf’s Liver with Bacon, or the Lobster Burger (a personal favorite).

If you’re a purveyor of delicious salty meats and, well, delicious salty meats, Central is an absolute must.

See Central on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Business Lunches
• Fancy Frenchies
• Sightseeing Tour Safehaven
• Paleoheads

Not Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Vegans
• Frugalistas
• All Of Your Gigantic Plate Needs

Taverna del Alabardero is reknown by local gastronoms as the best Spanish restaurant in the District. The establishment has over 20 years of experience serving everyone from diplomats to discount diners (I’m talking to you, Noble Restaurant Week Aficionado) with not a sign of having a slow night.

The restaurant has separate menus for lunch, dinner, and brunch, as well as a vegetarian specific menu on request. Offerings are rotated seasonally, so a dish that you declare your favorite could be here one day, and gone faster than a 22 year old’s tax return in May.

It’d seem a number of people (including Jen and I) take Restaurant Week (RW) as an opportunity to dine here, but to be fair, you can’t judge the quality of this establishment purely based on an experience there during that time. To start, the only menus available are RW specific, either for meateaters or vegetarians, but without the option to go a la carte.

Dishes during RW are certainly well executed, with extraordinary presentation and balance. Jen’s citrus salad wasn’t substantial by any means, but a nice way to start her three course meal.

It’s fair game to say that the owners have the expectation that the people filing in and out the doors are in for more of a bargain than Taverna del Alabardero’s absolute best performance. A sampling of this, a sampling of that, but neither Jen nor I could say the meal was truly memorable.

Their arroz con leche (rice pudding) with clementine ice cream even felt a bit blasé- again, a very good dish by any standard, but a dish without real passion or creativity.

Even the service, by and far, seemed lackluster. The one highight of the evening was having a conversation with Gustavo, the restaurant’s sommelier. The man spoke of true passion for Spanish food and his wine craft, enough that we were convinced to give the restaurant a second try on a regular dining night.

So… we did just that.

Fast foward a few months, and Jen and I (well, maybe just me) are excited to see how Taverna really operates. The restaurant is noticeably less crowded at the bar, but tables remain filled up with large boisterous tables celebrating special occasions, and couples like us enjoying an intimate meal in a upscale but relaxed atmosphere.

To start, Jen decided on one of the vegetarian tapas – the Parrillada de Verduras sobre Gazpacho de Espárragos

I took on the plate of Jamon Iberico (Iberian ham), something that might be a safe bet with any haute coutre Spanish restaurant, but a favorite of mine ever since traveling through Spain a couple of years back. The leg of ham sits near the bar, a massive display of perfectly salted perfection. Served with miniature breadsticks, this plate is a dish best shared between two, unless you have a particularly voracious appetite.

Jen’s order of the fried mushrooms came out spectacularly well – comparable to a vegetarian’s fried calamari with a similar texture but a much lighter taste. These things come out molten-burn-the-shit-out-of-your-mouth hot, so do take your time stuffing them into your face. I thoroughly enjoyed stealing several morsels of these off of Jen’s plate, but the deep fried action just wasn’t really doing it for her.

Not pictured is the Spanish cheese plate, which, even if you’re really into cheese plates, I’d give a pass on when eating here. The fresh chunk of honeycomb to accompany the cheese samplings is a nice touch, but overall, the cheeses just aren’t that great, especially at this price point.

I took a gamble on our server’s recommendation with the Rabo de Toro Estofado a la Cordobesa con Croqueta liquida y Zanahoria al Pedro Ximenez – a fancy name for Boneless Beef Oxtail Braised with Liquid Potatoes Croquette and Poached Carrot in a P.X Sauce, and I’m glad I did. The succulent portion of meat falls with even the gentlest pull of a fork. Bring it through the puddles of liquid potatoes and to your mouth, and you’ll never want to have another meat dish that’s any less tasty for the rest of your life.

How do I put this in no uncertain terms?

I could go back to Taverna del Alabardero right now for a second serving of this dish. I’m drooling on my keyboard as I type just thinking about it. I’ll spend months fantasizing about this dish, only to realize I need deep psychotherapy to get over this dish. It’s good. Really, really, really good.

To top off the meal with dessert, I took another recommendation from the server and ordered the Pisto de Melocotón en Almíbar de Café, Crema Catalana con Bizcocho de Magdalena – a Peach Ragout in a Light Cofee Syrup with Cream Custard topped with a Magdalene, which boiled down to a sweet, creamy soup loaded with chunks of fresh peaches. Good, but in retrospect, something I’d pass on entirely on a return visit.

So how’s the NON-Restaurant Week experience? Well, it’s tough to say. Jen was much less impressed with her meal than I was, although we both agreed that it was a 180 from our first foray there. She did end up losing a fight that the fried mushrooms put in her stomach with cramps and pains afterwards, but that’s more of an effect to her having completed a cleanse a month back and not being able to handle such deeply fried food. The oxtail was a home run with me, which makes me think that Taverna’s a great place to take a carnivore who’s looking for a extraordinarily executed meat dish. The deserts seem to be less inspired, and if you’re a vegetarian, you can make your own judgement call based on their menu online whether or not you’d like to eat here. It’s still nice to know that an upscale restaurant like this does indeed cater to vegetarian tastes to a high degree, where most places would offer a few salads and pasta dishes, and then call it a day.

Service here is inconsistent, at best. Our server and associated staff were very attentive for the first part of the meal. We never once had to ask for refills on wine or water, plates were quickly escorted away at just the right times, and recommendations were for the most part, pretty good. The service rapidly declined towards the end of our meal as the restaurant started to shut down, and we sat waiting for our check for 20 minutes as our server disappeared along with numerous diners around us. I finally flagged down another server who brought us our check, but it left us with an unfortunate sour note to leave on to what was otherwise a pretty good meal.

If you’re looking to try Taverna del Alabardero, the best time to head over is right after work, when their entire tapas menu is 50% off. Prices are otherwise a bit steep, and thankfully, we dined on a graciously provided gift card. I’d likely go back some time to try another one of their meat plates in the future, but I have a feeling if I do, I’d have to go without Jen’s company.

See Taverna del Alabardero on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Courting Fancy Spaniards
• Paleoheads
• Business Jerk Power Lunches

Not Recommended For:

• Obtaining Fancy Lanyards
• Restaurant Week Dining
• First Date Frugalistas

Savour’s website, rather than following the conventional www dot restaurantname dot com, or some variation thereof, is actually just a page off of the website the company chose to highlight as their moneymaker, Sutra Lounge.

That same thinking is evident in dining at Savour. The restaurant, clearly an afterthought to the what brings home the bacon, has a simple interior, with the main entrance opening to 18th Street in Adam’s Morgan. Bright orange paint coats the walls, and in an effort to keep the holly and jolly spirit going, Christmas decorations continue to adorn the ceiling.

In mid-February.

Or maybe that’s just extreme forward thinking.

Our waitress failed to inform us that one of the two vegetarian dishes would not be available, much to Jen’s chagrin, leaving her with the option of having either a curry tofu dinner (which did not appeal to her) or having a plate of fried tofu blocks. Given her paltry choices, she opted for the latter.

If that plate looks depressing, it’s because it is. A small mountain of unidentifiably fried something, with a few scant pieces of argula to decorate and “season” the dish. That’s not food. Not even a high school cafeteria would serve something that unappetizing.

My plate ended up a little bit better, with the flank steak, served with a slice of potato gratin pie and some green beans toss in for distraction. Not a side of green beans, but maybe four green beans. Really? Four green beans?

Thankfully, the steak was reasonable, and the potato gratin pie wasn’t too bad either.

The food here isn’t entirely deplorable, but calling yourself a vegetarian friendly restaurant with a limited number of options that may or may not be available isn’t exactly great. Our entrees, an appetizer of fried tofu blocks and a steak, took nearly an hour to get to our table, even after several tables who had arrived after us had already been served. Diners will be treated to frigid blasts of cold air on winter days every time the restaurant front door is opened with the lack of any sort of heavy curtains or a second set of doors to insulate the room, and the service isn’t the worst I’ve had, but it’s bad enough to say that I’d pass on the offer to eat here again.

If you’re really hungry, you can always get a Jumbo Slice of pizza just across the street. Quick, easy, dirty, and probably about as satisfying.

See Savor on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Zone Dieters
• Paleoheads
• Getting a bite to eat in between the OONTZ-OONTZ-OONTZ at Sutra Lounge upstairs
• Dates with that girl/guy who emphatically once told you, “OMG I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!”

Not Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Dinner with the Commander in Chief
• Dinner going Commando or in Briefs

Roberto Donna, the owner the well renowned Italian Chef at Galileo III, hasn’t had the easiest time with running a business smoothly in DC, with a history that spans over 30 years back to the roots of the original Galileo restaurant.

Naturally, Jen and I were eagerly anticipating our dinner here, but finding the restaurant just isn’t as easy as you’d think. There are no loud, backlit signs announcing YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT GALILEO III, no huddling crowd of smokers outside the doors, no…well, anything, to easily identify where the restaurant is at night until you get close enough to the frosted windows to see the Galileo III logo etched into the window, barely readable with the light of the sun.

Once inside, it’s still not clear if this really is THE new home of Chef Donna. The interior feels dated, despite having recently opened their doors in late 2010. Luckily, Roberto Donna’s wife, the steadfast champion of Galileo, greeted us and whisked us to our waiting table, to which there seemed to be a number of for a weekend night.

Each item on the menu reads as a unique testament to the chef’s skills and creativity. Jen started her meal with the Budino di Parmigiano, a Parmigiano Reggiano cheese pudding topped with Burrata cheese and cream of porchini mushrooms. The rather plan setting with little more than a doily to enhance the appearance didn’t end doing much to really get Jen excited about her selection. A rich, creamy concoction served in an small ramekin that’s very good, but not quite something that either one of us would call great.

My appetizer, the Taglierini Neri ai Frutti di Mare, a plate of black taglierini pasta with squid, octopus, mussels, clams and shrimp covered in a light tomato sauce, was considerably better. Large chunks of fresh seafood adorned the plate, and the pasta is fresh as it can be without someone in the kitchen throwing flour on the table and splashing me with water and eggs. Despite all evident quality of the dish, it still lacks the presence of of being prepared in one of the finest restaurants in the city.

Jen’s entree, the Tortelloni filled with red beets, seems to do a bit better swimming lazily in a baby pool of chive cream sauce with fresh microgreens. A good vegetarian friendly dish, but still fell flat of astounding either one of us.

My main course, the Tagliata di Manzo, consisted of grilled marinated beef rib eye, potato tart, and roasted chanterelle mushrooms, served with dry tomato and a black olive sauce. A winner! A succulent, flavorful portion of beef, complemented by the taste of the tomato and olive sauce, and perfect with the textures of the mushroom and potato tart.

Galileo III has some of the best Italian dishes in the District. The service is very good, and Donna’s wife is constantly making the rounds to make sure your meal is as good as it possibly can be. The menu structure, with options for a three, four, and five course meal, are a bit confusing, as I thought I could order three entrees for a three course meal, which is, obviously (and to my stomach’s dismay) not the case. Portion sizes are good, the noise is low enough to have a conversation if there’s not a loud screaming girl at the bar, and despite the decoration being a bit behind the times, it’s not really going to detract from your meal. The quality of ingredients are good and the talent in the kitchen is there, but the execution is a bit lacking at times, and you should note that at three courses for $55 to start, it’s not going to be a cheap meal.

While I’m glad to have finally had a meal at the hands of Chef Donna, I can’t say that Galileo III is a place I’d consider being so good that I’d immediately think of going back to again. There’s no doubt that very good meals are served here, but I can’t ensure that the meal you’ll have here is going to be great.

See Galileo III on a map here.

Recommended For:

Jen and I have been trying to get a table at Birch & Barley for months. That’s not to say that they don’t take walk-ins and put your name on a list, but it takes a bit of foresight and putting in reservations at least a week in advance to get a table here without milling about near the front door for an hour and a half, staring at the floor, wondering when was the last time you’ve shined your shoes or painted your toes.

Jen and I have been dissuaded from eating here numerous times after conversations with the hostess would go like this.

Me: Hi! We’ve really been looking forward to eating here. Can you tell me how long the wait is?

Hostess: Sure! It’s going to be a 90 minute wait.

Me: Really? A 90 minute wait?

Hostess: Yep! 90 minutes.

Me:

So we finally made it in for a Sunday Brunch after putting reservations a week in advance, mostly on my part to try their Luther sandwich after reading about it here on the Washington Post. A sammich so secret, it’s not listed on the menu. A slab of fried chicken topped with strips of bacon, served in between a maple donut? I didn’t actually think stuff that delicious existed in real life without the aid of half a bottle of absinthe and trading in your soul to the Devil. But it does exist, and I was determined to have it. Mine. All mine.

That is, until I saw the menu.

Birch & Barley’s boasts a wide selection of mouth watering plates, so amazing that I decided I was better off ordering what was on the menu than the quasi-imaginary dishes that were not.

With fried chickum on my mind, I didn’t hesitate to order the Fried Chicken & Waffles. Large chunks of moist, tender chicken, battered and fried, served with belgian waffles lightly dusted with powdered sugar, buttered pecans, and a maple-chicken jus to bring it all together. Wow. This dish was damn good.

But why stop there? I mean, if I’m not going to be eating paleo for a meal, I might as well burn it to the ground, right?

So I did just that. A side of a Warm Sticky Brioche Bun, topped with Brown Sugar Caramel, Pecans, and secretly containing a Cream Cheese center. I figured, if I’m not ordering the Luther sammich, I might as well order the equivalent of a deconstructed version. An amazing accomplice to the Chicken & Waffles, I was forced to eat this myself after Jen regretfully declined the opportunity to send insulin levels skyrocketing.

Suit yourself! I wish there were words to properly describe how this Brioche Bun makes you feel. It’s like…it’s like…

Yeah, it’s a bit like that.

Just to be sure that I had enough to eat, I also put in another side order of 2 fried duck eggs, served with tiny hash brown squares and enough greens to liven up the plate, but not much more than that.  I did appreciate the fact that the yolks were given the proper treatment, a gentle flick of fat/oil on top of each, but the egg whites were a bit too rubbery for my liking.

If you’re going to cheat on your diet, make sure you cheat with your entire heart.

Or stomach.

Jen, ever the source of reason, rational thinking, and alcoholic tendencies (I kid, I kid), ordered the Whiskey French Toast. Giant, inch high slabs of toast, served with local gala apples, candied walnuts, a dollop of mascarpone cream cheese and bacon, which she asked to have removed from her plate in favor for extra apples.

A girl who turns down bacon at any given opportunity, and I still love her. I think that speaks volumes.

The service here is on par with the food. Unpretentious and top notch, I’d easily make my way back here for another meal. With such good food, service, and atmosphere, it’s not hard to see why Birch & Barley won the 2010 RAMMY award for best restaurant, or why we’ll be coming back again soon.

See Birch & Barley on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Brunch
• Vegetarians
• First Dates
• Horrendous Hangovers

Not Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters
• Fancy Nancys
• Prom Dinner

There’s an old Irish recipe for stew, that goes like this:

Get some meat, some potatoes and a lot of Guinness Stout. Drink all of the stout. Forget about the stew.

That’s not quite the scene at Againn, the favorite drinking tub for leprechauns and gingers within the District. With a wide array of beers, scotches, and even the option to rent your own scotch locker, who wouldn’t want to drown their sorrows or celebrate their…celebrations…here?

Maybe me, with the whole alcohol dehydrogenase thing.

So to set the focus, yes, Againn has a fine selection of alcohol here, and according to a connoisseur of fine, obscure alcohols, “the 2nd best tasting Guiness I’ve had in this country”.  But my love of food is what brought me here, and that’s the story I have to tell.

First of all, this is no place for a vegetarian. Unless you have an unhealthy fascination for potatoes, you’re going to be set with a very, very slim set of pickin’s.

On the bright side, meat in all and every form is in abundance here.  The daring are especially rewarded, with savory flavors, decadent textures, and pub food at it’s finest offering.

The golden tripe here is, as one can expect, tripey, and a delight to your stomach.

The corned beef tongue is ridiculously awesome. Tender and brine cured, served with a peppery arugula, and served with fingerling potatoes and olive oil, I highly recommend this dish. This appetizer is high on substance and presentation, and the corned beef tongue complements the tender fingerling potatoes perfectly.

The sides don’t come up short with flavor either, but beware, even the most paleo-friendly looking ones can bite you inadvertently. My friend ordered the Welsh Rarebit, which as he mentioned as being as true to his childhood as he could remember, and I ordered the Sauteed Kale, prepared with ham, carrot, and to my surprise, breadcrumbs. Ordering a side here is crucial here, as the main course might serve up a bit smaller than you’d like, or as I did.

My friend’s main course orderd the Heritage Pork Belly and Cracklin’. Pork belly, white grits, mustard greens, roasted turnips and strips of pork cracklin’ as fried as Snoop Dogg headlining at a show, this is a pork lover’s wet dream, and not for the faint of heart. What could possibly make this dish better?  You know the answer to that.

Image Credit: Caanan

My main course, the Creekstone Farms Hanger Steak with Maitre’d Butter, Watercress Salad and Chips, was as every bit as good as I had hoped. Steak and butter and a bit of roughage, with a pass on the fries, cooked to a medium rare perfection.

If you’re out to impress a group of serious drinkers for a night out, you can’t do much better than Againn.* The prices are a bit steep for pub food, but the quality of the food is high, maybe just not as high as to justify the price.

Minus a small debacle with the bill, the service is fairly good on a busy night. With a reservation, there is no wait for your seats, and the atmosphere is vibrant, despite the decision of the owners to keep the lighting bill to a minimum. Noise is energetic, but not so loud that you have to scream across the table. And with as much scotch, wine, and beer there is to choose from, maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.

Let me know if you get around to trying out their stew. I hear it’s delicious.

See Againn on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters
• Captains of Industry
• Watching the match. “Awright, ‘arry? See that ludicrous display last night? ‘Fing about Arsenal is, they always try an’ walk it in.”

Not Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Vegans
• Frugalistas
• Nyctophobics

* One thing to note is to double check the damage, both when you first get it, and after your server’s run your card. I’m sure it’s entirely possible to accidentally add in a random lemonade that pads your total by a few dollars in between after handing in a Groupon, but I sure as hell haven’t ever had that happen before.

Buddha Bar is part of a growing empire, partly made up of restaurants, and partly made up of a very popular series of downtempo albums released under the same name.  The concept for each restaurant seems simple enough – insert a towering statue of a Buddha, remove all lighting fixtures, add a DJ, serve delicious food.

And guess what? It works!

Mostly works.

Jen and I wandered down to the Buddha Bar in DC after missing an opportunity to eat at the one in Paris.  Weeknights are certainly slower paced, which could be seen as a good thing if you want to hold a conversation and hear your dining partners over the DJ’s selected tracks for the evening.  The music is tasteful and relaxing, never too OONTZ-OONTZ-OONTZ but loud enough for you to know that you’re partially paying to hear some very good music.

Even DJs have to eat.

An Asian fusion theme permeates the menu, with wagyu tenderloin, sea bass, sushi, peking duck, hoisin pork ribs and curry shrimp being only a few of the main course offerings available.  Menu selections are clearly noted with a “V” for vegetarian, although vegetarians (such as Jen) may find themselves less than thrilled to eat here.

Her order of the Vietnamese Spring Rolls were fairly authentic and true to form, but somewhat lackluster for a world class restaurant, and something that could just as easily have been served out of a foodcart for a third of the price.  Not that there’s anything wrong with foodcarts, but that’s another story.

Her main course, the Seasonal Vegetable Tempura, left her with a substantial plate of lightly fried vegetables, but again, left her underwhelmed and uninterested in most of the dish, but taking to at least the tempura fried bok choi and sweet potatoes.

I had better luck with my dishes, starting with a Spicy Tuna Tartar with Avocado that made for an amazing appetizer.  Three separate stacks, one tuna tartar, one avocado, and one vegetable, served with a spicy dipping sauce and a bridge of fried chips, I took no time plowing through the tuna tartar before the waitress hastily made her way over and suggested that “Patrons tend to really enjoy mixing the three stacks together.”  Whoops.

My main course, the Grilled Grouper with Bok Choi and Nam Pla Sauce, was another great dish to follow up my first course.  Something about the preparation reminded me of the fresh fish I’ve had in years past in Hong Kong, which I think speaks to the quality and preparation to the dish.  A good but not oversized portion, I had no complaints whatsoever here, either.

The restaurant itself is very well decorated, and in dim lighting, looks like exactly what it intends to be- a world class drinking establishment that serves authentic Asian food centered around a God and some great lounge music.  Prices are on the higher end for dinner, but not out of the ordinary for a popular dining destination in DC. The service is helpful, friendly, and attentive enough to always be there when your water needs to be refilled, but not intrusive to the point where you’re inviting them to share your table with you.

I’d go back here another time, as I really enjoyed the meal, but it looks like I’ll have to make the return visit without my girlfriend, who’ll not likely be making the trip over with me.

See Buddha Bar on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Pescetarians
• Birthday Parties
• Drinks After Work

Not Recommended For:

• Buddhist Monks
• Mermaids and Mermen
• Vegetarians
• OONTZ-OONTZ-OONTZ

Casa Nonna takes residence on Connecticut Avenue where California Pizza Kitchen once stood for years upon years. Longer than I can remember, perhaps even before I moved to the area over a decade ago.  I anxiously awaited the opportunity to try out the new restaurant, which occupies a mammoth space just south of Dupont Circle.  Thankfully, the owners, the very same that own the various BLT Restaurants, decided to make use of the existing pizza ovens and cash in on the D.O.C. pizza trend that’s becoming the standard of quality pizza establishments in the District.

On a slow weekend evening, Jen and I walked into the restaurant without reservations around 6:30pm, but also without concern, as nearly all the tables were empty.  We asked for a table for two, quite possibly the easiest table to seat in any restaurant.

Hostess: Would you like to sit outside?

Me: No, it’s starting to get a little chilly out. How about a table inside?

Hostess: Well we could seat you at the bar tables (points at tables with high stools)

Me: (looking at Jen, wearing a skirt a bit short for a table of height) How about one of those booths over there?

Hostess: Well we could sit you at the pizza bar.

Me: Can we just sit at a booth? It looks like there’s a free table or two. (Or fifty).

Hostess: We’re waiting for people with reservations for those tables who’ll be coming in at 7 o’clock.

Ah yes, reservations. Reservations are great for a restaurant if you’re expecting a large influx of patrons, and your restaurant is at least half full to almost completely at capacity.

But that certainly was NOT the case, in any remote fashion.

At this point, I started to turn around and just leave, because it’s not exactly like there’s a shortage of Italian restaurants in DC, and my hunger is doing absolutely nothing for my patience. Jen, the obviously much better half, somehow talked the hostess into getting us a table at one of the booths, an absolute miracle in this bustling establishment.

Look at all those happy diners.

At this point, we tried to make the best of the meal and focus on the food.

Jen’s Penne All’arribiatta was very good.  A spicy tomato sauce with a decent portion of penne that made her happy, which naturally makes me happy.

I ordered the Fettuccine Al Burro, which translates roughly to “Noodles kneaded off a donkey’s hindquarters” in Italian.  A nice, unique take on the typical Fettuccine Alfredo, using only fresh Parmesan and butter with no cream, but nothing about it that made it a must have.

I also ordered the side of Meatballs, which you can have made with veal, pork, or beef, covered in tomato sauce and cheese.  The trio of meatballs are fairly sizable, and make a perfect complement to share, or eat on your own if you have a cavernous stomach like myself.

The restaurant itself is contemporary in design, but again, nothing here that stands out. It’s worth saying that it’s hard to really make a restaurant stand out with its interior; you really notice badly decorated restaurants, and amazingly decorated restaurants, but by and far, the vast majority of the restaurants in the middle of those two options are forgettable.

Our waiter was fair, but the whole hostess debacle soured the entire experience. If the first person I encounter with a restaurant has a poor attitude, that impression will carry throughout my meal. It’s a hard psychological fact to shake.  And as I mentioned before, there are a multitude of restaurants that do Italian fare as good, if not sometimes better, than Casa Nonna. I recommend you trying that other restaurant instead.  And if you’re the owner of Casa Nonna, you really ought to change out your hostesses.

See Casa Nonna on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Miami Club Scene Pros
• Client Lunches/Dinners
• Outdoor Seating
• Bar Seating
• Kitchen front Seating

Not Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters
• Italian Cuisine Connoisseurs
• Patrons without Reservations
• Any self respecting omnomnivores reader