Mezza Luna doesn’t particularly stand out amongst its neighbors on 19th street, which I have deemed ‘the less fun version of Adam’s Morgan’.  Truth be told, the restaurants along 19th street in NW shine their brightest during the week, serving lunch to the droves of businesses that hold the majority of the commercial retail space there.

Despite the slight difficulty in finding the restaurant (you have to descend a set of stairs from the street level to garner entrance), Jen and I eagerly looked forward towards our dinner there.  Inside, the layout and design was…less than aesthetically pleasing.  A large bar area filled the left portion of the restaurant, illuminated by strips of blue LED lights, reflecting tirelessly against the polished chrome barstools.  Dallas Cowboys propaganda fan memorabilia proudly adorns the walls.

We had barely walked in and already, this place was not going in a good direction.

To the right, several tables and booths filled the remainder of the restaurant.  Our reservations were for 9:00pm, which is not an unusually late dinner, but not late enough to explain a mostly empty restaurant.

Not good.

We looked around, and save for a few girls sitting at the bar and a handful of wait staff milling about, Jen and I were one of four groups of patrons here for dinner.  We were taken to a booth closest to the entrance of the restaurant, and started reading over the menu.  Our waiter, a diligent young man, arrived three times checking to see if we had decided what we were going to order before actually making our decision.  Well, let me rephrase that.  Jen knew in about 10 seconds what she wanted for dinner, I took a RIDICULOUS amount of time being tempted between an inordinate selection of pastas.

We put our order in and really took in our surroundings.  There was a private section for staff behind Jen, and a large white coated plywood area where a man (who I assumed was the manager) stood, observing the restaurant.  I made the comment to Jen that if it were a manager’s observation section, it should be raised higher up on a platform and more closed off, instead of making it look like a cheap cashier’s counter like it actually did.  Aside from the bar, very little was remarkable about the restaurant.  The furniture was contemporary, the walls adorned with paintings, mirrors, and a lonely potted plant did its best to camouflage the pillar that stood behind it.  It all seemed a bit too effortless, and not in a positive way.

To my point earlier, I’m sure that passes well enough for patrons during the week who stop in for a quick lunch, but for a dinner, it really negatively affects the people seeking a meal out in the town.

Our appetizers arrived quickly, thankfully, and we dove right in.

Jen’s Mozzarella Caprese came out with great presentation, but fell short of being a satisfying appetizer.  Neither of us could quite pinpoint what it was about her dish that was lacking, but something was definitely amiss.  Like awesomeness.

I ordered the Calamari Fritti, which again, remained fairly unremarkable, and started to get me worrying that this was how the entire evening was going to play out.  The portion was good, the calamari was fried well, and nothing about this dish was bad.  But nothing about this dish was great, either.

We cleared our food and as our waiter cleared our plates, we suddenly realized that the rest of the staff was clearing the room.  Being the last patrons in the restaurant, I guess they didn’t really see the need to keep the tables out on the floor.

But no, that wasn’t quite it.  There wasn’t a cleaning crew idling around with a mop bucket.  The wait staff were quickly piling chairs and tables into the corner behind us, which again, totally ruined the idea that we were even at a restaurant.

I noticed an African American woman carrying two cases with her towards the white plywood cashier’s desk, and instantly realized what was happening.  She walked back outside, and came back carrying two more bags, and began setting up behind Jen.  She disappeared for a few seconds, and then slowly stood up, holding a CD turntable in her hand, which she gently placed on the desk…and I instantly realized what was happening.

We were slowly watching the restaurant turn into a club.

As I looked around us, I made a second important realization.  This wasn’t an ordinary club night.  How do I say this?

Aside from the guys working at Mezza Luna, I was the only man there.  Several groups of girls congrated near the bar, a few at a table, and a strange Voltron-looking thing that was sipping on a cocktail, but otherwise, the place was slowly filling up with women.  It wasn’t really a problem for me, but I definitely got some strange looks, as if I didn’t belong.

Our entrees arrived, and our focus was back on to the food.

My Pesto Chicken Fettuccine was surprisingly…outstanding.  The noodles tasted fresh, the pesto cream sauce was rich with flavor, and the chicken was tender and juicy.  Bits of wilted baby spinach, pine nuts, and roasted red peppers all helped in really making this dish much better than just average.  and A complete 180 from the calamari, I was really pleased with this dish.

Jen’s Quattro Formaggi Ravioli was equally as good.  The ravioli was cooked al dente, and the tomato basil cream sauce tasted super fresh, as if the chefs were making the last dishes of the night.

Which, I guess, they were.

I suppose this better explained the big rush our waiter had us in at the beginning of the meal, to get us through before the club patrons started to pour in.  By the time we were finishing up our meal, the lights had been cut and the jams were pumping out the speakers.

Mezza Luna’s strength clearly comes out in their pastas, but as a restaurant, in very little other ways.  They proudly hold a ladies-only club event, Socalite Saturdays, every first Saturday night of the month, starting at 10:30pm.  The event benefits The DC Center and the Women in Life Association, who both fight for the rights and social justice of the LGBT community.

I’d assume that the place gets crazy with all three Dallas Cowboys fans in DC during the fall as well.

See Mezza Luna on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Dallas Cowboys Fans
• Pastafarians
• Girls Who Like Girls Over Boys
• Vegetarians

Not Recommended For:

• Wedding Receptions
• Impressing Your Date with Hard to Get Reservations
• Romantic Dinners
• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters

Mystery. Secrets. Espionage. All these things make for a great spy themed story. From what I’ve heard, the attached Spy Museum of DC really plays up these things, but unfortunately, as a restaurant, Zola can only do so much in incorporating these ideas into the theme of the restaurant.

Let’s start with the restaurant itself. An elongated bar presents itself immediately to your left as your enter and approach the hostess stand, with seating for dining to the right. The design here is contemporary, but nothing too flashy or forward thinking to offend the eyes. If you walk straight towards the back of the establishment, you can see a staircase to your right that leads up to a walled off ceiling, which looks a bit odd, but the fact that the owners decided to save the staircase instead of gutting it is appreciable nonetheless. The restrooms in the very back can only be accessed by passing through a secret compartment wall, which plays into the spy theme nicely.

The wait staff here is friendly, humble, and best of all, actually knowledgeable about their food and wine. Jen ordered a glass of something something that smells like grapes to me, which to her, tasted a little off. Now bear in mind, Jen is RARELY picky about her wine, and will drink just about any sort of wine that’s given to her. The waiter suggested she try the Dona Paula Malbec they had on hand, which really impressed her. And if she’s happy, well, damn, I’m happy too.

Zola started our meal off with a chicken liver mousse with a fig spread on a small toast flotation device, compliments of the chef, which I happily swooped in on and took out both in a blink of an eye.  Nothing too extraordinary, but pretty tasty all the same.

For her dinner, Jen split her order between the Porcini Mushroom Ravioli and the Brussel Sprouts with Shiitake Mushrooms, topped with Parmesan Cheese.

The ravioli definitely looks a little on the light side for me, but for Jen, coupled with the brussel sprouts, it turned out to be the perfect amount.  Despite the small portion (and granted, it is an appetizer), the raviolis pack a signifcant amount of mushroom flavor with each bite.  The marsala sabayon helps give the dish some depth, and everything about the presentation makes this a winner.

The brussel sprouts are served in a minature cast iron pan, although they don’t have the char that denotes being cooked in a cast iron skillet, but likely a cook over the range and tossed into the oven to melt the parmesan cheese.  An excellent side dish that isn’t too overwhelming, but a large enough portion to shared with another.

I ordered the “American Hot Pot”, a hodgepodge of seafood and chorizo cooked in a tomato broth, served with a heavily buttered sweet corn quinoa foothill with a bridge of toast.  There’s got to be some sort of metaphor here of bridging something something to the land of seafood and pork, but I wasn’t getting it.  I was getting the heavy use of delicious butter in the quinoa, which likely wasn’t the healthiest of dining selections, but certainly worth eating.

Zola’s “Straight Forward American Cuisine” self-description is certainly befitting to the food here.  Nothing stands out as extraordinary, but nothing is completely disappointing, either.  Many of the other diners there were well dressed and on either a mission to impress their dates, or seeking a special night out.  Jen and I rolled up in our patchiest of patchy granola pants with our hair done up in dreadlock rasta with a single care in the world.  The setting here is definitely edging towards the upscale, and the same can be said about the service.  The food here, however, is above average at best, without being particularly memorable but undoubtedly satisfying.  I wholly believe that if the kitchen took some effort to revitalize their menu offerings with the right chef, Zola could be a much more desirable dining destination.

See Zola on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Out of Towners
• Fancy First Dates
• Vegetarians
• Paleo heads
• Zone dieters
• Butter Buffs

Not Recommended For:

• Gastronomic Gallivanters
• Quick Dinners
• Double Agent Double Dates
• Trashy Hobos
• Fat Phobics

Jen and I were out to meet some of her friends at the Bimini Boatyard & Grill in Fort Lauderdale, just a short drive from the busy streets of South Beach.  It has all the pre-requisites for an interesting evening.

• Yellow Lamborghini Gallardo parked out front, surrounded by orange safety cones?  Check.
• Boat dock waterfront location? Check.
• Blonde grabbing her tit at a police cruiser slowly creeping by in the parking lot? Check.

The restaurant inside is themed just as the name would imply.  Not so heavy on the pirates, scurvy, or people throwing up out the windows necessarily, but more of the whitewashed wood walls, nautical instruments, and a fantastic view of the moonlit piers that sit behind the property.  There’s a large bar immediately to the left of the entrance where we met up with Jen’s friends, and we quickly were escorted to our booth.  We were originally supposed to have a table near the windows to enjoy the view of the docks, but were seated in a totally different location.  Not wanting to create a big fuss, we took our seat, and started into exploring the menu.

Bimini offers a large expanse of selections, from seafood (natch), steaks, and pastas.  We were immediately informed that the restaurant had unfortunately run out of the prime rib, filet mignon, and grouper, but we otherwise we were still given a fairly sizeable menu to choose from.  The ‘World Famous Bimini Bread’ was an obvious start, as well was the Bimini Seafood Chowder.

The bread comess out as a pre-sliced honey glazed loaf that tears apart into perfectly bite sized shreds.  As the restaurant specialty, Bimini knocks this one out of the park.  Maybe not ‘the most amazing bread’ I’ve ever had, but still, very, very good.  I was almost a little upset there was so little, because this dish goes fast between four people.  I did, however, find some contentment in the soup that came soon thereafter.

Bimini’s Chowder pushes the envelope of chowderdom by presenting a rich tomato based one rather than one that comes out in the typical white variety you’d expect.  The soup is aromatic, flavorful, and loaded to the gills with seafood and vegetables.  The large island of potato you see on the eastern shore was a bit odd, as if the chef just dropped a giant chunk of potato in while ever other vegetable was cut to small pieces, but it was almost better for me, as I wasn’t really planning on eating it.

And the square bowl?  Well look who’s wearing fancy pants now.

As we sat there and chewed the fat, getting to know each other better and getting up to date with the ongoings of our lives, the waitress came back, and let us know that unfortunately one of the meat dishes and one of the fish dishes had also run out, as well as the baked potato side that was ordered.

For those of you not keeping a tally at home, let’s do a quick recap of what Bimini’s out of:

• Red Meats: 3
• Fish: 2
• Potatoes: 1

We put in a new order for fish, as well as some asparagus instead of the baked potato, and the waitress went to get our new orders in. So we waited.  And we waited.  And we waited.

And as our empty drink glasses began to pile up, we waited some more.

Meteorites the size of Mexico with the sole galactic purpose of obliterating the Earth of all life and habitability don’t come crashing down as fast as our approval of this place.

So what we’re non verbally told is that we’re at a restaurant that doesn’t serve food. Or alcohol.  Just guff.  Lots of excuses, apologies, and guff.  I think I would have even accepted tears at this point as something to placate me.

Several days later, our food finally arrived.  One of Jen’s friend’s entree had a fish that vaguely resembled a shoe sole, with an ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes.  My blackened black grouper even had less of a resemblance of anything edible.

I’ve seen Great Dane’s drop off presents in the grass that look more edible than that.  And in all likelihood, I probably would have enjoyed it more, too.  What do you think of fish?

No, I mean a real fish.

You think of something soft, flaky, and tender, right?  Not dry, stringy, and with more varicose veins underneath than, well… more varicose veins than

I didn’t even know fish had veins!

We stared at the mashed potatoes for a second, and gave some serious questioning as to why they were even there.  As we launched an all out nuclear strike on the waitress, even she looked at the mashed potatoes and said, “Oh, that’s weird.  You’re not supposed to have those.”

What?

I can’t even begin to explain how confusing this place was.  Were we being pranked by a radio station? MTV? What the hell was going on here?  I polished off the majorit of my sweet potato fries and broccolini, but left the fish virtually untouched.  As did Jen’s friends, who weren’t even afforded the luxury of having reasonable sides to eat.  Jen fared a bit better with her pasta, which was edible, but nothing noteworthy.

Infuriated, we suggested that we not be charged for the three entrees that weren’t eaten, and the waitress agreed.  She did spend a good bit of time profusely apologizing, citing reasons that ranged from the fact that the chef wasn’t working that evening to the fact that the large menu was probably too ambitious for a restaurant of its size.  While her excuses were great for planting your spring flowers, they didn’t really do much else for us.  The fact that the restaurant kitchen couldn’t produce too many edible dishes without the chef was a bit alarming, but the fact that our waitress didn’t exactly do a great job trying to make sure our drinks were filled didn’t really help, either.  So where was the chef?

Ah, I see.  He’s busy in the creative process, Googling the latest fantastic Billy Mays products.  Why not?

I wouldn’t ever, ever, ever go back here.  I ended up stopping by the grocery store and eating a pack of deli ham and some pineapple cubes, which were immensely better than my experience at Bimini Boatyard and Grill.  While Bimini does serve some great bread and soup, I wouldn’t expect them to have either of those things should you ever visit, and feel enormously blessed that we were served any food at all.  Should you happen to be forced to eat here, may Jebus have mercy on your soul.

See Bimini on a map here.

Not Recommended For:

• Vegans
• Paleo heads
• Vegetarians
• Frugalistas
• First Dates
• Anniversary Dinners
• Bar-mitzvahs
• Seafood
• Meat’n'Potato types
• Atmosphere
• Service
• Bea Arthur
• Betty White
• Rue McClanahan
• Estelle Getty

As we grow older, it seems to each of us that time passes in our lives at an exponential rate.  The truth of the matter is that our experiences become repetitive, and our minds filter out the mundane and normal.  Our first experiences are the ones that stand out over time, with each proceeding memory something that is subconsciously categorized as less of a memory but just a day as ordinary as other.  You’ll likely remember your first day of school, your first kiss, your first year of college, your first of everything, rather than your second, third, etc.  It is how we have evolved, learning from our first experiences to adapt to everything that live has in store for us thereafter.

With meals and restaurants, your mind works the same.  If you can remember certain food experiences, it was because that meal was in some way or form novel to you, and it “sticks out” among the crowd.

Barton G is one of those places that happens to stick out in my mind.  While it is formally called Barton G, the Restaurant, I would say that a more suitable name is Barton G, the Experience.  Nothing less would describe the meal you eat here, and Jen, having known this, picked this particular place for one of our last nights in Miami.

The restaurant itself is far and away from the busy lights and bustling streets of South Beach, tucked away like a forgotten love letter in the residential streets of South Beach.  I actually questioned Jen at several points whether we were actually in the right place, because there were literally no signs of any sort of business establishments for several blocks.  We finally turned a corner, and under dim lights, was the sign and entrance for Barton G.

The outside seating, if available, is by leaps and bounds better than sitting indoors.  Lush foliage surrounds you, as if you’ve been somehow transported to a secluded tropical destination, free of smoke monsters and mosquitoes.  We lucked out, without a heavy din of patronage that evening, and treated like royalty by our server, doting on our every question and order.

The menu reads like a sly inside joke, with quirky names for every dish offered.  Stabbing wildly in the dark, I opted for the Coconut Crusted Voodoo Shrimp, while Jen started with the Truffe-licious Cream of Cauliflower Soup.

The Coconut Crusted Voodoo Shrimp comes stuffed with crabmeat and a Japanese seaweed salad, served like lollipops in a ominous smoking brew and coupled with a Pineapple and Mango Chutney.  Photos simply do not do this dish justice, as it bubbled like a witch’s cauldron for most of the time it took me to finish these.

Best of all?  These are paleo.  If only all my paleo meals were this good.

Jen’s bowl of soup was less a bowl and more of a vat of Cream of Cauliflower Soup.  Standing at nearly 12 feet tall (or maybe a little bit less than that),  this was quite a heavy dish.  Rich and teeming with truffle flavor, I was enlisted to help Jen and take a few spoonfuls of this myself.  Not quite paleo because of the cream here, but very vegetarian, and even better, something that’s perfect for her given Jen’s affections for cauliflower.

For her main course, Jen ordered the Veg-G-Nocchi.  A fully vegetable themed dish served in a miniature wheelbarrow, the presentation was as good as the dish itself.  The “grass” are actually fresh sprouts, and fully edible, if not a bit …sprouty.  The ricotta gnocchi was very reminscent of my experience of gnudi-  soft, chewy, and soaked in the flavor of the creamy cauliflower puree, sauteed vegetables, and sunchoke chips.  Not as heavy as the preceding dish, but so good Jen couldn’t resist taking the whole thing down.

Courteously, the staff offered to remove the dish out of the wheelbarrow so she didn’t feel like she was eating right out of a feedbag on a farm.  That’s something more along my lines than hers.  What, you’ve never worked through lunch and strapped a feedbag to your face?

My entree, dubbed “This Little Piggy”, was a generous celebration of what the pig has to offer.  A large grilled pork chop on a bed of spaetzle, served with braised pork belly, a copper pot full of creamy brussel sprouts soaking in bacon and a dish of fresh apple puree, this is a pig lover’s dream.  The braised pork belly stands out as nothing short of spectacular.  the grilled pork chop, cooked to request, is succulent, juicy, and an eager recipient of a generous dollop of apple puree.  Spaetzle is actually an egg noodle, so unfortunately not quite paleo, but too hard to pass up.  The chewy texture and buttery taste resonated well with me, and paired with the cuts of pork, an unstoppable assault on my palette.  Amazing.  Even the brussel sprouts were fantastic.  Hearty and cooked to perfection, nothing on this dish did not perfectly complement everything else on stage.

And the dish?

Of course it’s served on a giant wooden pig.

Surprisingly, the two of were begging for mercy at the presentation of the dessert menu.  Each of the desserts enticed us, and the display of a 18″ giant ball of cotton candy to an adjacent table informed us that we were probably better off for not having gone the distance.

While the damage is a bit steep and might temporarily give you a bit of double vision, Barton G is nothing short of a first experience, and well worth the coin, in my opinion.  If I had a single complaint during our entire meal, well, it was the fact that it started to rain as we were leaving.  But that just leaves something for improvement when we go back, right?

Barton G can be seen on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Gastronoms
• Vegetarians
• Paleo heads
• Porker’s Delight

Not Recommended For:

• Zone Dieters
• Frugalistas
• Plain Janes

The La Provence in South Beach doesn’t particularly stand out among the various storefronts it finds itself shouldered between along Collins Avenue.  In fact, one could overlook this restaurant altogether, as I almost did, if it weren’t for Jen. We stopped into the sparsely decorated restaurant for breakfast on a sunny Miami morning, eagerly ready for our first meal of the day.

The front half the restaurant is filled with small tables for dining, while the other half holds a long display case of fresh baked goods and samples of the dishes offered.  The line forms just to the left of the display case with the register at the very back, giving you plenty of time to ogle and salivate over croissants, brioches, quiches, and fruit pastries.  I was intent on staying focused with my diet for this meal, so I quickly eyed the omelets on the menu.  They also offer to cook your eggs any way you want, but they omelets here are huge.  Coupled with the fact that prices are very reasonable, and gratuity is completely optional rather than automatically ratcheting up your bill an additional 17%, it’s hard not to declare this one of the better options for a daily zone or paleo breakfast.

All breakfast and brunch options come with a small salad and a chunk of house made french bread, but  tossing the bread and adding a generously portioned fruit salad to your order will have you good to go for hours until lunchtime.  The omelets here aren’t as unique or exotic as some places in Miami, but realistically, sometimes you just want a simple breakfast that is still well prepared and served to your table post haste.  La Provence accomplishes just that.

The salads here great, too.  I had the Chef Salad with no dressing and a side of oil & vinegar for lunch on a separate occasion, and was equally satisfied with my choice.  Not award winning, but still, easily a good value and something for those who are trying to keep their diet on the rails.

If you’re in South Beach looking for an alternative to the hundreds of pizza parlors and sandwich shoppes, this is it.

See La Provence on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Vegetarians
• Vegans
• Paleo heads
• Zone Dieters
• Frugalistas
• Cheese Eatin’ Surrender Monkeys

Not Recommended For:

• First Dates
• Screaming Children
• Screaming Adults

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

Chef Geoff’s isn’t really a newcomer to the DC restaurant scene, but with four establishments in the area (one in upper NW DC, one in Penn Quarter, one in Tyson’s Corner, and an Italian focused Lia’s Chevy Chase), the brand name is definitely making a…uh, name.  For. Itself.

Shit.

Jen and I headed over to their Penn Quarter location to have dinner and sample some of the large number of available offerings on their menu.  I default to the description of ‘American Bistro’ for this type of restaurant because it fits so well.  The food is certainly contemporary but not absolutely at the forefront of haute coutre with flavors or presentation.

We started off with two appetizers, the Hush Puppies served with Maple Butter and the Crispy Plantain Chips with Guacamole.

Hush Puppies with Maple Butter

The Hush Puppies were exactly what I’d been craving for a few weeks now.  Large deep fried balls of dough, although not quite the same as the kind you’d get at the beach on a Memorial Day Weekend vacation.  The portions of the hush puppies were great, but the flavor was a bit lacking, with an absence of heavy seasoning that I expected.  Thankfully, a generous knob of maple butter comes in and saves this dish.  Definitely not the best hush puppies I’ve ever had, but they’ll do when you’re jonesin’ for some with no beach in sight.

Crispy Plantains with Guacamole

The Crispy Plantains with Guacamole, however, was a easy one knocked out of the park.  the deep fried plantain chips came lightly salted and crispy but not flimsy; the guacamole was made from fresh avocado and no added salt, which really pleased Jen, who considers herself to be quite the guacamole critic.  She commented that most places usually screw up one or both of the two factors that she considers to be important, using substandard ingredients, or killing the natural flavor of the avocado with too much salt.  Salting the plantains solves this problem perfectly, and makes them pretty tasty on their own.  Which really, you might end up having to do, because there isn’t a whole lot of guacamole that comes with the chips.  Still, a winner for both of us, and highly recommended.

Wild Mushroom Ravioli, Arugula, Truffle Butter

Jen’s main course, the Wild Mushroom Ravioli, carried the rich aroma of truffles from the butter, and had a nice ‘meaty’ taste to them.  The ravioli itself was delicate and and soft, a good sign of quality pasta.  A perfect pick for her, the dish offered lots of flavor and just the right amount of food for her appetite.  A highly recommended pasta dish for the diner with a light to moderate appetite.

Bacon Wrapped Pork Tenderloin with Collard Greens and Sweet Potato Gnocchi

My dish, the Bacon Wrapped Pork Tenderloin with Collard Greens and Sweet Potato Gnocchi, evoked a bit of a mixed reaction from me.  The bacon wrapped tenderloins were juicy, hearty, and packed full of flavor.  The sweet potato gnocchi were well executed, and a great compliment to the tenderloins.  The collard greens were wilted to perfection, and great on top of the gnocchi.  The only problem I had with the dish was the loads of salt dumped into the sauce that covered everything.  This doesn’t come from someone who readily limits their salt intake.  I highly believe that sea salt and fresh ground pepper are fundamental seasonings, and put it on just about every carb dish I eat.  But this was a LOT of salt.  Not inedible levels, but still a bit much for me.  That being said, ordering this dish isn’t exactly the pinnacle of healthy choices, so I can’t completely blame the kitchen for liberally adding salt here, but I’d feel more confident in giving my full endorsement to it if it weren’t so over the top.

There are definitely some great choices here, but the menu certainly has some less perfect ones, too.  There’s no real way to tell what’s going to resonate with you and what’s not, but my suggestion is to order what you know you’re going to like…and maybe, just maybe, it’ll be one of the dishes that Chef Geoff can knock out of the park.

See Chef Geoff’s in Penn Quarter on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Comfort Food Diners
• Steak’n'Potatoes Patrons
• Vegetarians

Not Recommended For:

• Weight Watchers
• Carb Counters
• Cheese Eatin’ Surrrrrrrrender Monkeys

Coppi’s is one of the many restaurants on U St. in DC that has seen a surge in popularity in the past few years.  Their pledge to the environment spans from their locally sourced organic produce, grass-fed/free-range meats, a wood burning oven, wind powered electricity and ultra-low wattage light bulbs.  How low?

Coppi's Interior

The focus here is definitely pizzas, with the highest of quality ingredients.  That’s not to say that’s all the restaurant does, as they also have a solid selection of antipasti (appetizers), insalate (salads), entrate (entrees), and dolci (sweets/desserts).  So, I started with what I can only remember as the Piatto di Carne.  The meat platter itself seemed a bit light on the side, but really, all I was looking for here was my meat fix before splitting a pizza with Jen.  Truth be told, the smoked salmon, the salami, the pancetta, and the smoked ham did just that for me.  A tasty sample of cured meats, but the salami was a bit too “meaty” for me.  Considering that they were all grass-fed meats, I guess that’s just my mis-perception of what high quality food costs, right?

Right.

The pizzas here are off the chain good.  Jen and I split the Al Cinque Formaggi- a white crust topped with ricotta, provolone, mozzarella, pecorino, and romano cheeses.  Do you know what that’s like?  It’s delicious, like having the last unicorn steak in existence.  I’m not sure if it was the organic magic at work here, but this was a damn good pizza.  A perfectly baked crust, lots of gooey, stringy cheese, and just the perfect amount of sauce to hold it all together.

You can always follow up that meal with your choice of dessert, so Jen and I split the bread puddding a la mode.  Your standard fare bread pudding, but well executed and presented for optimal omnomnomnomnomnom.

Here’s a photo of the bread pudding:

Bread Pudding a la mode

All in all, Coppi’s serves up a very tasty and very expensive meal.  The question of price for quality comes to mind again, amongst others.  Will we all one day have to pay more realistic prices for food when our food sources become scarce?  Are you an ardent fan of high quality ingredients (Red Sea sea salt, Micronesia olive oil, Vietnamese Maroon Pygmy cinnamon) when you eat?  Do these pants make me look fat?

The pizzas here are very good and a fairly good value, but I’d skip out on the appetizers and desserts.  The restaurant also holds very generous hours, open even during the blizziest of blizzards that take over DC.  If you’re craving a good pie and you’re in the area, stop in and give Coppi’s a try.

See Coppi’s Organic on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Pizzaholics
• Deep Snow Dining
• Organic Aficionados
• Vegetarians

Not Recommended For:

• Inexpensive Dates
• Zone Dieters
• Paleoheads
• Carbophobes

Only 4 Ingredients!

2 cups Organic Crunchy Almond Butter
1 ¾ cups Raw Honey
2 ¼ cups Vanilla Arbonne Protein Shake
3 cups Quinoa Flakes 

1) Dry Roast Quinoa (can be done in oven or on stovetop) 

Stovetop Dry-Roasting

2) Mix Almond butter and honey in microwavable bowl. Heat for 60-90 seconds. Mix well.
3) Add Protein Powder and Quinoa and mix well.
4) Spread in 9×13 pan. 

5) Refrigerate 1 hour. Cut into 24 squares. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

First up, the bread basket:

Er, bread duo.

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

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

Sarah's Salad

Tuna Sliders

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

So we sat there, and contemplated some more.

And some more.

And we waited some more.

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

With a small fry on the side.

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

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

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

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

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

Mushroom Risotto

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

But wait!  There’s still dessert!

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

Skidmark Candy Bar

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

Creampuff with Cherry Roadkill

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

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

Me?

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

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

See PS7′s on a map here.

Recommended for:

• Hyper-light eaters
• Time Killers
• Scenesters

Not Recommended for:

• Everybody else