brabo tasting room, 1600 king street, west end, old town alexandria

(pictured is the butcher's block, just next door to the tasting room)

a couple of months ago i inadvertently stepped in to the tasting room on my way to eat next door at brabo. and ever-so-briefly i admired groups of fun attractives enjoying what seemed like a hip joint. [not to be confused with a hip joint replacement.]


i'm supposed to be attending my high school reunion in oklahoma right this minute, but due to the amount of work i have, combined with my interminable misfortune with airlines, it's simply impossible to be there. next best thing - i created my own mini high school reunion. complete with too many glasses of wine, barking up potentially wrong trees and general buffoonery. but still looking very cute nonetheless.

facebook's a wondrous miracle for reconnection. as i'm aware, and keep using to my benefit. and tonight's gonna be no exception.

recently i've befriended another stillwater high school pioneer [that's what we were, the pioneers, shut up i'm from oklahoma] who's lived minutes from me all this time. how tragic that we're only now figuring this out. well, whatever, everything happens for a blah, blah, blah.

we plan a night out to do some catching up. at brabo's tasting room in old town. newly single, she needs a means of escapism and [i'm always on the prowl for fun] i've been wanting to check this spot out since my date with frenchy at brabo. it's a gorgeous friday evening in june. i should mention that i got studstall parking right up front. west end old town is remarkable for this reason alone. and yes, this is a tremendous foretaste of the evening.

entering the tasting room, instead of the conventional hostess stand greeting, you're welcomed by smiling happy chefs operating the wood-fire oven. hot. right there at the door, separated from you only by a little counter. oh no, one is conspicuously cute. oh yes, indeed.

"can we sit anywhere?" sous chef nods to my right, where there are four secluded booths offering a great view to the passers-by on king street. those tables are too quiet though. we're looking for romance, but not with each other. i think area to my left looks like more potential excitement [and eye-catching, and we want to catch someone's]. she and i are about to have a marathon convo session but we're way too attractive to be put in a corner. [nobody puts baby in a corner. right?]

to the left are more diner-esque booths along with a communal high-top table, smack in the center of this tiny place. the room is white on white. very fresh and clean feeling [great for you ocd germaphobes]. it's a tiny avant-garde but then it's got some exposed brick mixed in and a lot of natural light filling the room. it's bright but it's still real comfy. we opt for the communal table. as i always say, though not always do, you gotta put yourself out there.

i am sensing this night could go one way: we chitchat have a glass of vino and part ways by 8:30, i go home and get my arse on the sofa and command of the remote. or it could go the other: blowoutgirlsgonewild. then there's a number of scenarios in between.

one of the cool things about single chics is you never know what kind of turn the night's gonna take. especially when you haven't seen each other in 10 years [what is it with me livin it up bigstyle with long lost pals?]. is she up for it? am i?

hell to the yeah.

only semi-concerned about the ass-spread you get when perched upon them, we hop up onto the barstools right smack in the middle of the room. straight away, ari, waiter, brings menus and asks our prefs on wine - white or red? i'm the ever-loving white wine fan during the summer months. as is my friend. he brings us each a taste just to make sure he's on the right track. this guy's a total gem by the way. he's utterly helpful and attentive and concerned and big. he's huge for such a tiny spot. but, really how cool is a no strings attached wine taste? i wonder how many tastes you can get before you settle on one. we quickly decide on the danielle de l’ansée sauvignon blanc 2007 loire at a very reasonable almost cheap $8 a glass. i suggest a bottle but it's the same price per glass. again, a non-committal place. i feel right at home.

the tasting room is still new - having opened maybe three months ago, but a reputation is already established for their house-made charcuterie and wood fired tarts. tarts? crispy thin crust yummy "pizza" that all pizza should be. also the mussels. and belgian beers. all are known to be quite good. oh and i saw a huge and delicious looking sandwich walk by. my friend tells me she's picky and is leaving everything to me. i always leave everything to the waiter, who suggests charcuterie. again. what the? as you well know, i'm having a lifelong affair with charcuterie and therefore this is the perfect place for me. it is. everything is meant to be shared and snacked on.

the bread is delicious here - i forgot to ask where it's from. charcuterie plate comes complete with caperberries, which i adore and believe that there needs to be more caperberry-serving restos. also, cornichons, artichoke hearts, various meats and a duck liver pate. yum sweet yum. our wine was perfectly paired for such an occasion. buttery smooth complimentary to the meats and pate.

i'm secretly worried that this isn't going to be enough for me, i'm so in love with this food. eat slowly everything will be ok, i tell myself. and it is. we are talking like you read about. we each recount the past 10 years of our lives. story by story by story. good, bad, ugly.

[speaking of, we're actually experiencing this right now - the scene at the tasting room is good for the food/wine/great service/cute sous chef, bad because there are no singles but us, ugly packed with tourists. damn. did i mention it's attached to the new lorien hotel and spa [a kimpton property - yay for old town]. we are totally gonna bounce after we eat to find a better looking scene with more potential. tasting room isn't going to be romantically productive for us. waitaminute... waiter over there is cute too.

well we proceed to get pretty comfortable here. i hope my friend isn't too keen on bolting because i have now engaged sous chef in conversation at his station in front of wood fire. about food and the fact that i too used to be a cook in a resto. blah, blah, blah. he's way cute, he is. i know he doesn't want us to leave because he's bored of looking at x-tra large fanny-packed patrons. i don't blame him.

me, i'm a vision in all white with my cute new saja top from ginger boutique and white linen pants. my friend she's a long blonde bombshell. he tempts us to stay by inviting us to pull up barstools at his station. really? this is legal? yes, do it, i'll make you ladies some nice things [impress you with my cooking prowess]. ok [don't need to ask me twice]. plus, i'm gonna get to know this sweetthing up close and personal. we have plenty to talk about and could bore the living daylights out of my friend if i continue talking shop with sous chef. sadly, tightassed manager who looks and behaves like a pit boss in an otherwise casual cool hangout, puts the kabash on our front row situation. he "needs the space" [to lean on while he watches the flat screen].


back to our spot at the communal, we're vip rockstars now and friends with everyone working here, 'cept manager. and we have a tart coming. a tart, people - topped with fresh mozzarella, virginia prosciutto and basil. i firmly believe when a chef wants to send a couple cuties food, it's the same thing as when a peacock spreads his plumage. i'm totally going to allow it and shower him with praise. an operative flirting tactic hopefully. i might be a little smitten kitten. i am.

next thing ya know. a couple of my blast from the past citronelle buddies come through the door - they work at brabo behind the bar. again, at home i am here at the tasting room. so i'm telling sous chef he should hurry with his silly closing inventory duties and change and meet us at our next spot. he's sadly so sadly got too much to do though and not sure he's gonna make it. thank goodness i have the wherewithall to get his number and email address [he's offering to help me cook for upcoming events - and this may be the one time i decide to take someone up on that, big big smile].

my girlfriend - now we're like old friends again - entirely in the know about each other's lives and fully supergirl bonded due to wine and deepdark secret sharing - shut down the tasting room and decide to head over to union street for some ridonkulous extension of this so-far perfect night. i know, what the? when was the last time you saw the insides of that place? we shut it down too and headed home. at 3 am. impressive, yes?

i will definitely revisit the tasting room. i wish i could think of a non-stalking reason to get there asap. after perusing my receipt i'm so pissed at myself for the 20% tip i left and wish i'd left ari more. i'm not known for being cheap normally. $hit. i'm guilt-ridden over that.

p.s. sous chef texted me the next morning. we're gonna get together this week for a cocktail. maybe i do have game.

restaurant eve, 110 s pitt st, old town, alexandria

(eve, the bistro. it's very romantic at night)

it annoys me that i can't think of a befitting word to describe my dining experience at restaurant eve but i have to proceed nonetheless. amazing? no, overused. fantastic? nope, underwhelming. perfect? tres cliche.

it was simply flawless. from walking in through the understated entrance on s. pitt street to the moment i left, every moment was truly without flaw. and just when i think i can't be inspired by a restaurant, i visit restaurant eve.

[by the bye, they may appear to be booked up on opentable.com, but just give a call and they'll tell you when they can seat you, and on this tuesday evening when i called at 6, they were happily able to seat me at 9:15]

frenchy's in town for a total of three weeks for a work project; i'm trying to devote as much time to this situation as possible to see if he's the dreamboat of my dreams. i wanted to take him to a top-notch restaurant whose menu is not designed by a french chef. who says only the french can cook properly [besides the french]?

actually chef cathal {silent t} armstrong is irish, which is ironic when you discover how good it is (nothing against the irish but they're not typically known for delicate food). if you're in old town and see a dude on a bicycle in a chef's jacket and checkered pants, it's probably chef armstrong zipping around from farmer's market to the resto or home to check on kids. charming, no?

it's reported that eve is great for romantic evenings, special occasions, or to impress a guest. horse-puckey. don't wait for something "important" to visit. what's important is that you experience this exquisite and enchanting place that's worth every penny and then some. the food is astonishingly good.

converted from an old town warehouse, eve is more like a cottage you're entering through a side door with exposed brick, ivy, romantic lighting. greeting you is a friendly hostess or three, perhaps even meshelle, chef armstrong's wife [and muse, according to the website. does anyone else out there want to be someone's muse? that's better than romance.].

the service was 2nd to none. overly serious waiter could be seen as condescending but really he's professionally helpful, guiding you through the menu, answering all questions. they're super-thrilled to bring out todd thrasher, dc-famed mixologist, beverage director and sommelier to all of armstrong's endeavors {and partner in some}, who will suggest a perfect wine or special cocktail he's developed for the night. i ordered a bottle of k vintners viognier, which they were out of, however they brought a substitute [for the same price] of e. guigal viognier, 2006. delicious but not floral; rather peppery for a viognier - i compare it to a red really with all of its bold flavors. even frenchy who prefers red really enjoyed it. i look like a genius; he'd never tried a viognier.

why do french people always look so natural when they swirl their glass of wine, sniff it and taste it? meanwhile americans tend to look more clumsy and fake when doing the same. i think they're born with this ability. especially when the french person is from sancerre i suppose. they better look cool. like i should look cool wearing chaps and riding a horse, being from oklahoma. which i would.

(eve, the lounge. you can dine in here but i don't recommend it because the tables are too low. skirt danger.)

i should mention that eve has a special chef's tasting room to the side of the bistro. i've dined there long ago - before i was a chef. ignorant to what i was really experiencing at that time. sad. tonight we're in the bistro, i believe, at the very best table situated next to the fireplace. also worth mentioning is that a former colleague of mine from citronelle is the chef de cuisine and listed as such on the menu. surprise surprise. i knew he worked there but didn't know he'd risen to the rank of chef de cuisine. impressive.

(eve, tasting room)

first course i ordered the steak tartare. i love steak tartare and you don't see it on too many menus so i want to see if it rivals that of central. i loathe to say it does. it does. it was rich and mustardy and delicious. frenchy doesn't "like meat not cooked" (broken english). hmm, so they don't all like tartare. ok. well he is a pastry chef. he ordered the scallop risotto first course. too heavy for me, though quite good.

the main course i had trouble deciding between the rockfish, which i love, the squab or the sweetbreads. sweetbreads might sound like dessert, but they're anything but. from the thymus gland of a cow, they're categorized as offal (the entrains and internal organs) - along with kidneys, liver, brain, trotters, and other parts that may have an unusual flavor and texture. when prepared properly [to tenderize it and neutralize the flavor, it's brined for at least a day , then often poached in milk to later remove the outer membrane] they have a rather delicate flavor.

me, i'm not a huge fan of sweetbreads. so that's what i ordered. i like to do this to see if my open mind can be changed. waiter agrees i should go with it.

eve has gently breaded and pan-fried them. they're beautifully presented (a rather large portion). looks like fried chicken. tastes like fried chicken. really really good tender fried chicken. i am so pleased and delighted. i haven't had a food smile on my face this big since bouley in nyc last september [and if you know bouley, you know what i mean]. frenchy ordered the bouillabaisse. traditional french seafood stew. oh boy. i guess he is from the nord [that's north] and bouillabaisse is southern french food. so it's kind of like when i order tex-mex.

for dessert a butterfinger cake; peanut butter and chocolate terrine with a quenelle of malted milk ice cream. it's good but didn't compare to my completely captivating entree.

as for frenchy and my communication skills: well we're getting better and better. use of dictionary is still rampant. i overheard table next to us commenting about how i was teaching him english and he teaching me french. how sweet. a good night for the french-american date. we're making progress i think. i can finally use the word ennuyeux without using my dictionary. i have looked it up no less than 10 times and if you're wondering, i use the words "bored" and "boring" excessively. typical american girl.

before our exit, former colleague gave us a quick tour of the kitchen. very clean surfaces, happy cooks and gorgeous copper pans. nice. super nice.

i treated this evening - no argument from frenchy, finally. it's not inexpensive at $200 but like i said, worth it. the best ingredients, the talent, the ambience, the taste. what do you expect people? i've spent a lot more on food that was just ok.

{The Armstrongs and partner Todd Thrasher also own and operate: Eamonn’s A Dublin Chipper , PX, the upstairs speakeasy lounge, and the historic eatery; The Majestic all within five blocks from Restaurant Eve.}

brabo by robert weidmaier, 1600 king street, old town, alexandria

first of all i'm shouting, "bravo!" that someone has finally invested in the revival of old town alexandria. {if you want my thoughts on old town, click on the entry for jackson 20}.



chef robert weidmaier, of dc's brasserie beck and the lovely marcel's, has expanded his repertoire of resto's.



not only has robert weidmaier opened brabo restaurant, named after the roman hero, silvius brabo, just next door is the tasting room and next door to that is the butcher's block, a wine and gourmet shop. all by robert weidmaier. thank you, merci and grazie, chef.



this trio of treats is gorgeous too, from the outside. what a refreshing addition, see i can't say enough. they've opened in connection with the new lorien hotel and spa (a kimpton property - hotel monaco, et al.).



so, frenchy is back in town for three weeks of work. [see cafe du park entry for first dining experience with frenchy]. he happens to arrive with perfect timing for once - i have four days off from cooking and can finally fathom spending four to six hours of speaking loud and broken english (which has been daunting the past two times he's been in town, therefore his company being avoided). silly me.



brabo's on my running path through old town, so i've been frothing at the mouth to see what it's all about since i saw it's opening nearly a month ago. i was actually running one day when chef michel richard himself pulled his car over to tell me he was on his way to lunch there, asking me if i'd been yet [damn, i wished could've scooped michel].



btw, on this side of old town there's plenty of street parking so this is a huge bonus. so frenchy and i meet on the street and i get kissed on both cheeks. we accidentally walked into the tasting room, which by its name gives you the impression this is a chef's tasting spot.



oh no, friends, this is a coooool hangout. small and high-ceiling'ed, bustling with good energy, we're greeted at the door by chic hostesses and chefs welcoming us in. people in there are both attractive and having fun. my kinda place. i didn't realize i was in the wrong spot til i said i had a reservation. one waiter tells me i should've come here instead - it's way cooler. ah, but no, we are on a mission to eat so the kind hostess escorts us just next door to brabo restaurant. how sweet was that of her? that's service we're not used to in these parts, i assure you.



brabo is much bigger than i thought it would be. i had requested a quiet table (online, via opentable.com) due to our communication challenges. we stand at the door waiting to be seated. it's hot in here too. i'm starting to sweat. we must've stood there awkwardly for four minutes before the bartender tells me the hostess stand is behind a huge column in the middle of the room. strike one, i'm thinking.



don't worry though, there are no other strikes against brabo. none, nada.



the front dining area seems much more interesting but i'll have to try that another time as we're led to the rear dining room (for peace and quiet, i assume). i notice it's pretty slow for a thursday night, unfortunately.



our server, katherine/catherine greets us immediately with menus and wine menu. she's very sweet and knowledgeable and fortunately patient - little does she know this night's going to drag on and we're to be the last people outta here and i hope she didn't have an early night planned. because i was hot, i needed a glass of champagne on the double, so i went with charles de fere (at $8 a glass) and it was quite good. date wanted me to order the wine, but because i really wanted white, rather than red i asked him to please choose. they have a lovely and extensive wine list - pages and pages. he chooses Perrin & Fils, les Christins’ 2006 Vacqueyras for $57.



it's a nice menu too. there's not too much to choose from but it offers a good and interesting variety. he was going to order exactly what i had my eye on so i had to rethink. [and of course, i was going to order an entree this time rather than apps only.] date ordered for appetizer the wild mushroom and foie gras ravioli with truffle madeira sauce. it was quite good though the sauce alone has a really strong flavor of black licorice, not my favorite - it didn't seem to be anise, it was really really black licorice-y in flavor. the sauce was perhaps over-reduced too, as it left that weird coating feel in your mouth that only a chef would notice. but, as i said, all together it was nice.



i guess some of you probably don't care about the food. you're wondering how my date, part deux, is going.



well, strangely, the fact that we can't communicate very well is much more enjoyable than it was last time. we're using the dictionary a lot to muddle through but we were laughing and having more fun with it. i think since he showed the confidence to make fun of both how fast i speak and my terrible french accent, i loosened up - it was surprising to see his sense of humor. the waitress was probably laughing her arse off and feeling for me. i really had fun though - i swear.



my appetizer was fantastic. upon the recommendation of katherine, i ordered the duo of shenandoah smoked trout, which i never would've ordered otherwise. beautifully presented, it came with a perfect quenelle of smoked trout mousse atop the best potato blini i've ever had. alongside, another potato blini with a small piece of smoked trout filet and another perfect quenelle of creme fraiche. paired with these a small salad of julienne of granny smith apple (beautiful) and another tiny salad of shaved fennel. nicely done as well, but completely void of salt. those blinis were little pillows from heaven - creamy with an ever-so-tiny bit of crunchiness on the outside {it's like when you make pancakes and put too much oil in the pan, you know that little crust that develops? yummy}.



second course - date ordered the seared turbot with potato gnocchi, baby artichokes and black trumpets. it was gorgeous. it was slightly overcooked for his taste but i thought it was close to perfect. golden brown and the buttery sauce was delicate. i was interested in the skate wing, but on katherine's advice i ordered the grilled lamb tenderloins. they came with a white bean puree and ratatouille (normally to me ratatouille is icky, i thought brabo's was delectable without any pesky skins on the eggplant or peppers). the lamb was cooked perfectly medium rare. i wish i could complain about something. i can't. i really, really can't.



i will mention that there are several former citronelle buddies of mine working there - front of the house. eddie a busboy (i say busboy but he's an asian gentleman of probably 60 years) was working this night. he tells me that a couple of bartenders, an expediter also work there now. it's good none of them is working tonight as i need to really focus on my date.



i think we probably were vip once katherine realized she was waiting on a former citronelle cook and a french pastry chef. not that her service was lacking in any way, nor was the food to this point, but you just get a feel when things are ever-so-subtly ramped up. i'm ok with that.



by this point, flipping through le francaise-anglaise dictionnaire is 2nd nature. there are very, very few things that i smile and nod at, not really understanding. and i hope vice versa.



for dessert, he ordered the triple chocolate mousse terrine. sounds delectable, no? it was just ok. and if it's just ok to me, imagine it being so not worth the calories to a french pastry chef. three types of chocolate in the terrine and lacking in any rich chocolate flavor. pastry chef/date says it's too much sucre. that's sugar for you non-french speaking amigos.



i enjoyed the lemon "tart", which was really more of a lemon mousse served with a sable cookie and a tuile, alongside cilantro gelee - sounds weird but it's good with the lemon. certainly not my favorite dessert of all time but you know, i have to give brabo lots of kudos. i can't wait to go back again.



you know, being an american girl, i tried to pay too. last time was on him, this time, i think should be on me. he wouldn't hear of it. wouldn't even entertain the idea for une minut. tres gentlemanly.



i'm sad to report that the tasting room was closed up for the night at 11:30 (though the website says it's open til 1 am nightly). the boys getting off work told me they do last call whenever the crowd appears to be dying down. i understand. i'll go next time. that place is cooooolio. i promise. let's go out there sometime, friends.



we popped up the street to vermilion, another spot i've been meaning to revisit for some time. i won't get into the details, as we just had a cocktail there (have you ever seen anyone get a peppermint schnapps on the rocks? whatev. it was probably much better than the revolting glass of sparkling i was served).



i kindly gave frenchy a ride home though he wanted me to introduce him to philippe. think about that one for a minute. sly these frenchies, but come on.



bravo to brabo. we've been dying for a spot nearby to call "home." i can't wait to get over to the tasting room so i too can be one of those attractive people having fun with my friends in this sleek new spot.

jackson 20, hotel monaco, 480 king street, old town alexandria

jackson 20, an american tavern. walking through the king street entrance i'm greeted by a life-size bronze pig (perhaps the most charming thing about this place), said to be president andrew jackson's favorite animal, and a symbol of hospitality and abundance. i like pigs. and i know, i've dated a few. kidding. i do like pigs and all pork products.

i don't know how long it's been open - a year or maybe two? whenever holiday inn transformed into hotel monaco (thank the lord for signs of coolness coming to old town). i've been wanting to check it out, hoping that old town would start its resurrection of hipness and and stop being so bleeping old.

sadly old town alexandria is not so charming as it used to be. back in the day you could wander in and out of endless shops packed with art, furniture, italian, french gifts and antiques and whatnots. you could pop into one of many pubs to grab a beer or a bloody mary on a saturday afternoon and just enjoy relaxation and old town-iness. now old town is empty, closed down, bankrupted businesses and lame restaurants (with the exception of a couple, like restaurant eve, union street - not for their food - or maybe even vermilion).

just this past summer (as i continue to digress), 6 gorgeous ladies were walking around in the heat of summer longing to sit at one of the charming resto's lining king street for a bite to cure their horrendous hangovers - on the patio. well we happened upon landini brothers (a great place to go in the winter months - speaking of charm), whose patio was completely empty. we asked to be seated on the patio and were refused. yes, refused. but why? the patio's empty. we're told they don't have a table for 6. can you please push two together? nope, nada, not happnin. what in the world? who would rather have $0 than push two tables together - or at least offer up a 4 top and a 2 top. sorry - that shoulda been a story of it's own - perhaps i'll do a blog titled "buffoons running businesses without customer service: how do they survive in this economy?"

back to ye olde towne. it's called old town becaue it's 250-something years old and boring and dying. perhaps if you're a tourist it's doesn't seem so boring (it's rampant with tourists and browsers aimlessly meandering the streets all summer long). i can't blame them. i too bring guests down to visit charming old town. or i used to. what do you people in your cute, historic townhomes do???? what a perfect town for walking, shopping, eating, drinking. geez, i swear if i lived in the heart of old town i'd never drive anywhere; or at least i wouldn't have when all the businesses were open.

{off the subject but of important note, hotel monaco hosts doggy happy hours from 5-8 pm on tuesdays and thursdays april through october in their courtyard. i've been wanting to go to that too (in hopes of meeting a cute boy). evidently my dog philippe went once last summer when i was out of town. i hear he had a great time but he did not mention whether there were any hotties for me.}

so i met a couple of girlfriends and a guyfriend for a couple of cocktails and hors d'oeuvres president's day night; how apropos i now think, president's day, having a drink at a bar named after a former president. they wanted to start drinkin' early since everyone had had the day off (except for me, i just started nightly cooking for a family this very day so i had to meet up later, ugh, sigh, i knew this new gig would be a commitment that i didn't want to keep for fear of it cramping my social life). anyhoo, they'd gotten well into a bottle of penfold's bin # something. old reliable. jackson 20 has 20 bottles of wine for $20. way cool considering everyone's in the poorhouse now. pourhouse?

the appetizer fool that i am is always excited to see what's on the menu. what's on the appetizer menu here is disappointing though. crabcakes, fried green tomatoes and a bunch of rabbit food. nothing good for sharing. if you want some things to share - peruse the "sides" section of the menu for more options. we opted for the fried green tomatoes, a side of macaroni and cheese, asparagus - for something green and not fried and cheese fries (ok, so no one's on a diet here - but there were 4 of us - and we were sharing. besides - isn't the pig at the door supposed to give you an idea of how you're supposed to eat?). also of note - the regular dinner menu looks fantastic with lots to choose from.

the fried green tomatoes were really good actually. they needed salt, but they had a tangy little salad of arugula on the side and a buttermilk blue crab dressing which went nicely. the cheese fries were nothing to write home about (especially for me - i couldn't write anybody at home about these because it's in stillwater, oklahoma that the best cheese fries in the world are made at eskimo joes, once famously mentioned in a speech by none other than President Bush I) - clearly not homemade fries and WHERE'S the godforsaken cheese, people? how lame, how sad. what would old hickory say about these cheese fries? not much. i've already said too much. don't get 'em, they're not worth the calories.

i would like to mention, however, that the mac and cheese was heavenly!!! angels were singing. and i am not normally on the mac & cheese bandwagon like everyone else in this town. the cheese sauce had lots of earthy oregano infused in it and was just perfectly cooked - not overcooked like most mac & cheese. yum and i will use that idea - just lovely. white and creamy - i didn't think it was going to be good - the breadcrumbs on top were not properly gratineed (they weren't browned at all). surprisingly i was surprised. we were actually still hungry so we got some pretty decent little rolls with butter brought to us.

what i noticed most about this place - for somewhere that's supposed to be named after andrew jackson, in a town with lots and lots of presidential history, it was actually pretty nondescript inside. the photos online make it look pretty hip but it didn't come across in person. the service was good yet it was nondescript too.

the other thing i noticed and this is a doozy for a single girl like me (or for people who like to go where there's good people-watching) - jackson 20 drew an amazingly unattractive group of people. rarely do you look around you and find that not one person in the place is nice to look at. what gives? i asked my friend. he says to me, "well today is the equivalent of a sunday night since it was a holiday." ah, true dat. i forget from my restaurant days of not so long ago that sundays are for early birds, non-appetizer eating eaters who like to get in/get out and not fuss with the rest of the world who eat out all of the other nights of the week. rude? perhaps it is. it's a generalization! don't get angry at me. after all, we were out and we are really attractive people. i had to go look at myself in the restroom just to remember that attractive people are out and about on a holiday.

i will give jackson 20 another chance because it's so darn easy to get to from my place. plus, my friends promise that normally there's a better crowd. plus that dinner menu had a few things calling my name - and that's unusual for appetizer girl.

for all the negative things i said about old town. i'm just sad about it and venting. i'm actually a hopeless romantic for old town alexandria, praying it makes a comeback soon.

more to come this spring from doggy happy hour at hotel monaco. cheers, people!