quill, the jefferson hotel, 1200 16th street nw, washington dc

i love the smell of new. especially when it's wafting within the splendidly-detailed vestibules of an authentically old building. the folks who redesigned the jefferson weren't playing around; they expertly managed to preserve all the grandiose and stately elements you'd expect of a hotel named after the great thomas jefferson. in washington dc. a tourist's dream. sometimes i feel so important-lucky. this place makes you feel lucky to be here - and not in a condescending pretentious way. it's an elegant treasure and i'm officially revering it as such.

i didn't even know the jefferson hotel existed until all renovations were complete and it reopened with the news of new dining spots. powerfully stunning, this place. the girls and i popped in for a bite and some cocktails just after it opened a couple of months ago. we saw everything - kind manager played the role of our personal tour guide upon arrival [we might've gotten thirsty as he was showing us the conference rooms and libraries. though they were impressive, we were ready to get our paws on some cocktails].

so, plume is the uber-serious looking fine dining resto featuring chef damon gordon [formerly of alain ducasse, ny]. i say uber-serious because of silk covered walls, 18th century reproduction chairs, and over-the-top wall sconces. but, tucked away is a suprise cozy fireplace. tres romantic. another night perhaps.

the jefferson is also home to the greenhouse, serving power breakfasts and express lunches, according to the website. i probably won't be dining here anytime soon. unless for some kickass reason i end up having a room there for a night. yahoo.

tonight we opt for quill, the lounge and terrace. it's another dc bar following in the trend of hand-crafted cocktails. handcrafted equals high dollar too normally, and perhaps i'm impervious nowadays but these are all $15. i think it's brilliant that they're all the same price. keeps it easy. hey, some places have $20 cocktails.

we ask to sit on the terrace. it's tiny, very dark and cozy and we're treated like the princesses we are. led to our seats, don't think for one second we didn't notice the hottie bartender. at least i did.

my friends who can't not do champers didn't indulge in the complicated cocktails. but, always wanting to experiment, i opted for something called the master mind. not to be confused with the mind-eraser, i can't remember what the hell was in that thing - it was a long list of ingredients. i think i should've had the strawberry basil mojito like another friend did [tho i'm pretty sure she ended up having 9 of them and spent the following day experiencing their subsequent wrath]. after that i tried the maya, which included a not-so-fun molecular foam of orange. foams are fun to bath in but i don't want to drink them.

on to the food. the salmon tartare was perhaps the most beautifully presented tartare of salmon i've ever seen. [and that includes bouchon.] it was also perhaps my favorite of all the dishes we tried.

let me take a moment to yell at the top of my lungs that if you ever see anything on a menu with both foie gras and bon bons in the title you should indisputably get it. would you question that? would you even need a fraction of a moment to deliberate? if so, get your head checked on the double. holy mother of monticello, someone should sell those from a street vending cart. seriously. anyone with me on that, gimme a call. i'll sell those little yummies all day long. i was a tad sad that for $18 you get three miniscule bon bons. fortunately one friend didn't care to partake. and yes, i strongly suggest she address her fear of foie with her therapist.

opting to check out the bartender hottie, we pay tab and move the party to the bar. noticing couple enjoying a basket of fabulous looking french fries, we ask for those. ok, so the bartender has one of those deep sexy baritone voices. that's hot. he's also got a nice smile and clearly he knows what to do with his hands as we gaze upon his cocktail shaking and stirring in wonder. i order another, this time bartender's choice [as you well know, i like to put the onus on the staff]. moments later we've befriended him. he's funny, interesting; he writes sit-coms too. something sexy about a bartender [lots of drinks helps]. alas, dc might be getting cool. it's about freaking time we attract a new lot of cool people. and the more male, the better.

noticing what looks like a wedding band on his right hand, we discuss what that might indicate, hopefully discreetly but likely not. someone finally gathers some cahones to ask.

evidently he is married. to a greek orthodox, who i'm sure is gorgeous. he informs that in greek orthodox marriage, wedding bands are customarily worn on the right hand. hmm.

amongst ourselves we called bull$hit on that. we did. i'm only slightly embarrassed to say that after researching it [all in the interest of accuracy as well as education for this blog], this dude's for real. to that i say: that's just not fair. it's false advertising. if i get married, you're wearing your ring on the left hand, buddy, because you're hot and i don't want chics like me scoping out your chili. period. irritating.

p.s.

eat at quill anyway. i liked everything i ate, plus the service was fab so i highly recommend but i'm still a little miffed about barhottie, if you wanna know the truth. i was really over it til i wrote this and was reminded how cute he was.