Eating and Talking Like a Critic

I'm not a restaurant reviewer, nor do I play one in the blogosphere, but I'm more than qualified to accompany an actual critic to dinner and play eater and conversationalist.

The invitation came from Todd, the food critic for Washingtonian magazine and a fellow PG County-ite I'd met here. Not having finished his new book, The Wild Vine yet, I wasn't quite ready to present my book report, but he was gracious enough to overlook that, so I hit the highway to DC.

The restaurant under the microscope tonight was going to be Blue Duck Tavern at 24th and M, which provided a wonderful trip down memory lane for me since for years I lived three blocks away at 21st and N Streets. Tellingly, the parking goddess must have recognized me from years gone by because I scored a space directly out front. Unheard of.

Since we were new friends, with less than an hour of conversation under our belts, there was no way of knowing what to expect out of an evening eating together. I couldn't have hoped for a more intense or enjoyable outcome, though; the abundance of food was exceeded only by six hours of non-stop conversation with someone as talkative as I am. Maybe it was something in the water in P.G. County.

So what did we eat while the overly attentive staff hovered around us? Morel mushroom custard with roasted morels, fava beans and caraway oil (tasty but oddly served in a wide, shallow dish), sauteed frog legs, fiddlehead fern ravioli and fava beans (we were friendly enough by then to suck meat off the same bone), oven roasted bone marrow (oilier than I've ever seen it), ricotta cheese dumplings, ragout of young goat with English peas and Virginia ham (yes, I drove to DC for Virginia pig), baby green Romaine with yoghurt dressing and salted anchovy (definitely a highlight) and the pork chop and braised pork cheek with grain mustard sauce (done in the sous-vide method, so let's talk texture).

It was interesting that Todd made the same comment that Ruth Reichl had when I'd seen her talk at the Smithsonian back in April, here. Critics bring people along on reviewing expeditions for company, for amusement, for conversation, but not to share their opinions of what they're eating. Which worked out well for me, because I'm an eater, not a critic and I'd much rather be over analyzing relationships and discussing reading habits than dissecting dishes. (Full disclosure: when he asked for my opinions, I did provide them. I can't help it. Opining is what I do.)

Afterwards we moved to the bar to escape the helicopter staff buzzing about and get comfortable in the lounge for even more, surprise, conversation. I'm telling you, this is a guy who was no more spent after the first four hours of continuous talk than I was. Some restaurant critics can go on and on.

And, as we know, I like that.