I know it's a good night when I'm willing to forgo music for good conversation, which is exactly what happened tonight.
After a busy afternoon stalking the wild Christmas tree with a guy friend willing to do the heavy lifting for nothing more than sharing a bottle of wine with me afterwards, I was ready for dinner out and some music.
I made Bistro 27 my destination because I hadn't seen those guys in a while and I'm never disappointed when I go there. I arrived around 8:30 to a ridiculously busy dining room and it didn't let up for another hour. Sitting down at my usual stool (at an empty bar), I was immediately greeted by all the guys who make my visits so enjoyable.
Chef Carlos came over for his requisite kiss, Dave made a smart-assed remark, Ron was friendly and flippant, Billy was his usual polite self, Richard gave me a half bow and Frederico smiled and gave me his shy greeting. Even Wilbur waved from the kitchen. I felt properly welcomed.
Just to get things started, I ordered a glass of Tempranillo while I looked at the menu. A regular came in to sit at the bar and when Carlos said hello, the guy let him know that he had a kiss on his face. "That's her," Carlos explained, gesturing at me and grinning. I have a reputation for leaving lipstick marks on men (among other things).
Because they were mobbed, it took Ron a good while to take my order (although in the meantime, he gave me my first taste of hot buttered rum), which suited me fine because I had time to do some crowd-watching and eavesdropping. The couple at a table near me were explaining to their sever why Florida didn't suit them.
"It's all newlyweds and nearly deads," she told him. "Except Key West." I'm sure my recently-transplanted-to-Key West friends will be glad to hear that, being members of neither of those two groups.
I finally decided on the flash-fried sweetbreads over local oyster mushroom ragout and polenta, topped with a port wine reduction, because it sounded like the kind of comfort food dish I was craving on this cold evening.
Carlos brought the generously-sized portion to me himself and the smell was enough to assure me that I'd chosen the right thing. Rich and earthy, the dish satisfied on every level. I have a restaurant friend who insists that Carlos' polenta is the best in town and she'd get no argument from me.
Along about that time, Carlos came over and insisted I try the Alexander Valley Lowry Hill Cabernet Sauvignon; and why not? I trust his taste, I had a plate full of sweetbreads to eat and I like big reds. Pour on!
One of the guys was telling me that his girlfriend has generously offered to support him so he can pursue his artistic dreams. "I got a sugar mama!" he bragged, causing me to ask where I might find a sugar daddy so I could do the same. His response, which I won't share, involved elements of my past, but was very funny for how quickly he came up with it.
At one point, Ron looked at me and asked,"Is there music?" not an unusual question for me to be asked. I thought he was asking about shows tonight, but what he really meant was could I hear the restaurant's music, which I could not and told him so.
He scurried off to make an adjustment, making for a huge improvement in the ambiance once I could hear what was being played (Marvin Gaye, Johnny Hartman & John Coltrane, even, gasp, vintage Hall & Oates). Must have music.
My next issue was whether or not I wanted dessert, so Ron brought me a menu,over which I could ponder. My next pour was the bold and beautiful Lodali Nebbiolo D'Alba, easily my favorite of the night (and I stayed with it) and undoubtedly part of the reason that I never made it to Balliceaux.
After close to an hour with the dessert menu (and even having to share it with the lipstick spotter), I finally ordered just as the kitchen was closing up shop. It worked out well because one by one the staff sat down at the bar with me to drink and chat as we watched some of the local cross dressers parade down Broad Street on their way to better things.
Carlos got the conversation started with reminisces of living in DC in the 80s, allowing the two of us who had also been there then to share memories of neighborhoods, bars and the mood of the city back then, very different from how it is now.
We three shared some of our favorite Adams Morgan and Dupont Circle stories, only to discover we had been moving through a lot of the same places at the same time. And oh, the rent prices back then! Those were the days.
As is often the case when you're talking to a half dozen guys, there were some tangents about girls who can't get enough sex, guys who date them and the surprising things you can see when an elevator door unexpectedly opens.
Like I said, I meant to go to Balliceaux for music, but every time I thought I could walk away from this group and their wild conversation, I was sucked back in. How does that happen?
To quote Fred Astaire in Holiday Inn, "The lady must have been willing."
She was that.
Showing posts with label veal sweetbreads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label veal sweetbreads. Show all posts
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Sweetbreads and Celebrating WRIR
Never tell a chef who's just added sweetbreads to his menu that you just had sweetbreads three days before at another restaurant.
Or, if you choose to do so, you can expect to eat sweetbreads twice in three days.
Which, if you're as fortunate as me, can be a very good thing.
I'd gotten a call from a friend alerting me that First Fridays was canceled tonight, which wasn't a problem because the WRIR 5th birthday bash was still on.
Now I had time to eat dinner out before the party and it seemed logical to pick the restaurant closest to the Renaissance Center, the location of the soiree.
It was obvious that the rain had scared more than just the First Friday organizers because, upon entering my neighborhood joint, Bistro 27, I was surprised at how few people were out on this rainy night dining.
On the other hand, the staff greeted me with, "Now the party is complete," and there were a couple of neighbors present, so I didn't really need much more.
Chef Carlos wanted to know where I'd had my recent sweetbreads and how they were prepared, and then he disappeared.
After ordering the touted Angeline Pinot Noir, the bartender pointed me toward several interesting new things on the menu.
Just as I had about decided to go for the seared foie gras, Carlos appeared with an overly generous serving of the veal sweetbreads in a mushroom, sage, shallot and Marsala sauce.
As he pointed out, it's a traditional preparation, but when done as well as these were, I'd have to say sublime.
Okay, he'd won me over. Again.
I followed with a guilt salad for having eaten sweetbreads twice in 72 hours.
Because it was so slow, I had the pleasure of Carlos' company for the entire evening.
We got off on a rant about the local restaurant scene, who's over-promoted, who doesn't really live up to their press, who's over-priced and who curries favor with the local critics.
As it turned out, he's as opinionated on this subject as I am and we share many of the same opinions, so it was a very satisfying discussion.
Our other hot topic was the lack of special events to keep pulling people to First Fridays.
Happenings like the May Day parade and the Chinese lantern parade drew people in droves to First Fridays last year, but during the months where the galleries alone represent the focus, the numbers seem to drop.
It's a subject Carlos has discussed with the mayor, a regular customer, who claims to fully support the idea of doing more, even suggesting that the organizers need to address the issue.
After dessert and a wine lecture by Carlos for the benefit of the neighbors at the bar, I bundled up to walk the half a block to the WRIR party.
I got teased about not bringing an ID (seriously?) and immediately ran into scads of people I knew.
It began with Matt from Amazing Ghost; I had just missed their performance.
But as I told him, I could hardly be faulted since I've seen them twice in the past few weeks.
I caught most of the Hot Damns set and ran into Johnny H. and his camera, the one person I knew without a doubt I'd see tonight.
Naturally there were plenty of musicians I knew, a favorite blogger and assorted others, all out supporting independent radio.
Cam from Heks Orkest came up to say hi and I teased him about them headlining; he thought it was because they were the loudest band performing and would probably clear the room.
I told him that my first show had been the Who, I'd seen Stinkeye play inside ADA Gallery and had been at the My Bloody Valentine show, so loud didn't scare me.
Grinning hugely, he pulled up his shirt to show me his MBV t-shirt underneath; okay, he knew loud, too.
Probably my favorite performance was one of the WRIR DJ's band, Photosynthesizers, in the back room.
Standing off to the side, a guy spotted me and motioned me forward to stand in front of him.
"You feel sorry for me because I'm short, don't you?" I asked.
Laughing, he said, "Nah, but I was short once , too."
Considering he was about 6"2", I had to ask, "What, when you were ten?" which got him to laugh again. I did appreciate the better view, though.
I went back to the main stage for HO's set and they were loud, but the crowd was really into them and that always makes a show better.
Their volume did make it impossible to carry on phone conversations, so it was gratifying to see people have to leave the room to talk on their phones.
Don't let the screen door hit you in the ass on your way out, guys.
And despite having had dessert already, I enjoyed a piece of cake before leaving.
It was a birthday party after all and I, for one, am thrilled that we have such a station in RVA (keep that Breakfast Blend coming).
Happy birthday, WRIR and here's to many more.
Or, if you choose to do so, you can expect to eat sweetbreads twice in three days.
Which, if you're as fortunate as me, can be a very good thing.
I'd gotten a call from a friend alerting me that First Fridays was canceled tonight, which wasn't a problem because the WRIR 5th birthday bash was still on.
Now I had time to eat dinner out before the party and it seemed logical to pick the restaurant closest to the Renaissance Center, the location of the soiree.
It was obvious that the rain had scared more than just the First Friday organizers because, upon entering my neighborhood joint, Bistro 27, I was surprised at how few people were out on this rainy night dining.
On the other hand, the staff greeted me with, "Now the party is complete," and there were a couple of neighbors present, so I didn't really need much more.
Chef Carlos wanted to know where I'd had my recent sweetbreads and how they were prepared, and then he disappeared.
After ordering the touted Angeline Pinot Noir, the bartender pointed me toward several interesting new things on the menu.
Just as I had about decided to go for the seared foie gras, Carlos appeared with an overly generous serving of the veal sweetbreads in a mushroom, sage, shallot and Marsala sauce.
As he pointed out, it's a traditional preparation, but when done as well as these were, I'd have to say sublime.
Okay, he'd won me over. Again.
I followed with a guilt salad for having eaten sweetbreads twice in 72 hours.
Because it was so slow, I had the pleasure of Carlos' company for the entire evening.
We got off on a rant about the local restaurant scene, who's over-promoted, who doesn't really live up to their press, who's over-priced and who curries favor with the local critics.
As it turned out, he's as opinionated on this subject as I am and we share many of the same opinions, so it was a very satisfying discussion.
Our other hot topic was the lack of special events to keep pulling people to First Fridays.
Happenings like the May Day parade and the Chinese lantern parade drew people in droves to First Fridays last year, but during the months where the galleries alone represent the focus, the numbers seem to drop.
It's a subject Carlos has discussed with the mayor, a regular customer, who claims to fully support the idea of doing more, even suggesting that the organizers need to address the issue.
After dessert and a wine lecture by Carlos for the benefit of the neighbors at the bar, I bundled up to walk the half a block to the WRIR party.
I got teased about not bringing an ID (seriously?) and immediately ran into scads of people I knew.
It began with Matt from Amazing Ghost; I had just missed their performance.
But as I told him, I could hardly be faulted since I've seen them twice in the past few weeks.
I caught most of the Hot Damns set and ran into Johnny H. and his camera, the one person I knew without a doubt I'd see tonight.
Naturally there were plenty of musicians I knew, a favorite blogger and assorted others, all out supporting independent radio.
Cam from Heks Orkest came up to say hi and I teased him about them headlining; he thought it was because they were the loudest band performing and would probably clear the room.
I told him that my first show had been the Who, I'd seen Stinkeye play inside ADA Gallery and had been at the My Bloody Valentine show, so loud didn't scare me.
Grinning hugely, he pulled up his shirt to show me his MBV t-shirt underneath; okay, he knew loud, too.
Probably my favorite performance was one of the WRIR DJ's band, Photosynthesizers, in the back room.
Standing off to the side, a guy spotted me and motioned me forward to stand in front of him.
"You feel sorry for me because I'm short, don't you?" I asked.
Laughing, he said, "Nah, but I was short once , too."
Considering he was about 6"2", I had to ask, "What, when you were ten?" which got him to laugh again. I did appreciate the better view, though.
I went back to the main stage for HO's set and they were loud, but the crowd was really into them and that always makes a show better.
Their volume did make it impossible to carry on phone conversations, so it was gratifying to see people have to leave the room to talk on their phones.
Don't let the screen door hit you in the ass on your way out, guys.
And despite having had dessert already, I enjoyed a piece of cake before leaving.
It was a birthday party after all and I, for one, am thrilled that we have such a station in RVA (keep that Breakfast Blend coming).
Happy birthday, WRIR and here's to many more.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Six Burner Solution
In times of emotional turmoil, it's best to just give in and eat whatever is needed to work through it all.
There are probably better ways of dealing with it than that, but few as enjoyable.
I'd like to think that there are some physiological reason for stress cravings and if not, there ought to be.
On this rainy night, that meant meeting a friend for dinner at Six Burner, but a friend with whom I don't discuss what I'm really thinking about.
A friend who is good company but unable to listen without judging and offering immediate and unasked-for solutions.
A stereotypical guy, in other words. But he can be good company and amusing and that's important, too.
There were several new things on the menu that I hadn't tried, so I had to work to narrow it down.
After much deliberation, my first course was the truffled cheese fondue with house-made pretzel batons.
The fondue was incredibly rich and earthy, even given the relatively small serving; the warm pretzels were soft and lightly salted.
My second course was the veal sweetbreads with Parmesan, arugula and almond pesto and beautiful little local cherry tomatoes.
The breading on the three good-sized sweetbreads was crispy and flavorful and the pesto and tomatoes the perfect complement.
My friend, who had never tried sweetbreads, gave in to my cajoling and tasted a bite.
Several tastes later, he admitted he was now a fan and finished off my last bite.
Over at his side of the bar, he'd gotten the charcuterie plate and happily used the rest of my fondue and the contents of the bread basket to eat his way through a plate of house-made meat.I think there may have also been some olive oil on the bread under the meat and cheese.
He justified his manly meal by saying he'd had a big salad for lunch.
He was, it should be noted, though, the one who suggested dessert, which I'd planned to forgo due to a lack of room.
I caved; we shared the red velvet cupcake.
Before my friend had arrived, I'd run into my two favorite people from Gallery 5 and enjoyed a lively discussion of cake-making, blogs and upcoming music shows.
It's great to hear when other people are as excited as I am about the variety of bands gracing RVA with their presence. Unfortunately, it's been rather slow the past couple of months, but that's about over.
By the time my friend and I had finished our rich and fatty meal, we'd talked about everything from the Grammys to bluegrass to Valentine's Day plans...and nary a mention of what was running around in my mind the entire time, just as I had hoped for.
Sometimes the best solution is just to give it a rest and eat, drink and be merry.
There are probably better ways of dealing with it than that, but few as enjoyable.
I'd like to think that there are some physiological reason for stress cravings and if not, there ought to be.
On this rainy night, that meant meeting a friend for dinner at Six Burner, but a friend with whom I don't discuss what I'm really thinking about.
A friend who is good company but unable to listen without judging and offering immediate and unasked-for solutions.
A stereotypical guy, in other words. But he can be good company and amusing and that's important, too.
There were several new things on the menu that I hadn't tried, so I had to work to narrow it down.
After much deliberation, my first course was the truffled cheese fondue with house-made pretzel batons.
The fondue was incredibly rich and earthy, even given the relatively small serving; the warm pretzels were soft and lightly salted.
My second course was the veal sweetbreads with Parmesan, arugula and almond pesto and beautiful little local cherry tomatoes.
The breading on the three good-sized sweetbreads was crispy and flavorful and the pesto and tomatoes the perfect complement.
My friend, who had never tried sweetbreads, gave in to my cajoling and tasted a bite.
Several tastes later, he admitted he was now a fan and finished off my last bite.
Over at his side of the bar, he'd gotten the charcuterie plate and happily used the rest of my fondue and the contents of the bread basket to eat his way through a plate of house-made meat.I think there may have also been some olive oil on the bread under the meat and cheese.
He justified his manly meal by saying he'd had a big salad for lunch.
He was, it should be noted, though, the one who suggested dessert, which I'd planned to forgo due to a lack of room.
I caved; we shared the red velvet cupcake.
Before my friend had arrived, I'd run into my two favorite people from Gallery 5 and enjoyed a lively discussion of cake-making, blogs and upcoming music shows.
It's great to hear when other people are as excited as I am about the variety of bands gracing RVA with their presence. Unfortunately, it's been rather slow the past couple of months, but that's about over.
By the time my friend and I had finished our rich and fatty meal, we'd talked about everything from the Grammys to bluegrass to Valentine's Day plans...and nary a mention of what was running around in my mind the entire time, just as I had hoped for.
Sometimes the best solution is just to give it a rest and eat, drink and be merry.
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