croatia + montenegro

recently, i learned that a friend i met in dubrovnik, croatia passed away. though i can't do our trip justice via blog, i still dedicate this story to him.

rip, cameron wilson.

note: i began this story shortly after our trip but i just finished it today, july 7.

here we go.

who thinks of going to croatia for vacatia? for many years it was on my list, the dalmation coast and dubrovnik. my besties and i did a good amount of research on how to get to the adriatic islands off the southern coast of croatia to enjoy the outta this world spectacular views of the dalmatian coast in perfect 80 degree weather. preferably from a hugeass yacht. with goodlooking crew.

well 5 years ago it proved to be too costly to get there: a layover in frankfurt, followed by one in vienna and a boatride from there down the coast through the adriatic. blah blah blah. it seemed too convoluted so we scrapped the idea for the time [to have an equally complicated trip to spain instead].

i still can't tell you how to get to the islands, because i didn't make it to the islands this time either. it's not the season, november. but when a girlfriend organized the trip, it only took me minutes to say da, da, da [yes, yes, yes]. learn something here, people.

so, off to dubrovnik, the old city. thanksgiving-ish. site-seeing and enjoying a city not too many on this side of the atlantic know much about.

it's not easy to get here to the big city either, by the way. though dubrovnik has its own international airport, we flew from dulles to paris, from paris to zagreb (the capitol of croatia), from zagreb to dubrovnik. approximately 17 hours total. easy breezy.

old dubrovnik from the outside looks like an enormous fortress. your driver drops you outside the colossal walls of the ancient city and it's not at all indicative of how really big it is inside them. you then drag your sickly overpacked luggage over the drawbridge through the massive gates, and over its uneven marble cobblestone streets. not quite home yet, you carry those bags up some 100 steps which look charming and all but they're supersteep. well, whatev, never hurts to get a workout in.

we opted to stay in an apartment since we'll be city girls this trip. i.e. no beach time. as you know, normally i'm a girl who likes to stay in a hotel with all the amenities, only occassionally exploring villas and private apartments. for this time of year and in this city, an apartment is perfect. it's mildly chilly in the month of november (50-60 degrees). we're sightseers here this week.

our apartment, it's very european of course. charismatic, old, tidy, two-storied. the spiral staircase adds to the charm except when the luggage is involved. we must've looked like buffoons dragging all those bags through the city. funny now. not as funny that day.

all streets are tiny, dimly lit and staircased alleyways that run directly into the stadun or the main street which is lined with boutiques [sans haute couture thankfully], gelato shops, taverns and restos. we arrived early evening and people in europe don't get out and about until 9pm, whereas americans have to have our arses on the sofa to watch reality tv by 8/7 central.

i'm hungry and need a cocktail like it's my job. i'm happy to take full blame for the executive resto decision, "captain's restaurant". elvis, the proprietor, is pleading with us to eat at his restaurant. he's missing many of his teeth, his shirt is open, revealing a gold chain and he's promising a free bottle of wine with our dinner. using every last drop of his charm to entice us, he later turned into quite an annoying ogre.

you know i don't give a rat's ass about free but he was the only proprietor asking for our patronage so we fell for it. note: avoid these places, friends.

we ordered a platter of seafood including grilled octopus, shrimp, mussels. seafood [canned clam] risotto. prosciutto. our free bottle of wine came as well. we thought the glass smelled like dead fish. but i'm pretty sure it was the free wine that was fish scented. the food was well below average and that's being generous.

onward, in search of what to do next, as the three of us were waiting on two others, who were stuck in germany. we were so tired and wanted to get to bed when alas, we stumbled upon a wine bar, d'vino. and as you know, this girl doesn't pass up a wine bar.

d'vino is tended by a rather attractive croatian, frano, and wouldn't you know, owned by a young canadian ex-pat. how happy we are that they can help us with our wine selections. and cameron does. we were served some lovely croatian wines here and had a night that would linger on until the rest of our party made it in from germany and a few other stops, and a bus ride, perhaps a ferry. they were real happy to find us at this sweet spot.

the highlight here, besides the wine of course, and meeting a couple of new gents to chat with, was cameron's beagle, emma. emma is the mascot, maitre d' and busboy (as she's anxiously awaiting any crumb that may drop). cameron says she's not that social, however she warms up to these three dog-owners rather quickly and i taught her high-five and shake before the night was up.

heading back to our apartment, more than slightly inebriated, we find that our apartment is situated in an alleyway nestled between 5 bars. yep, innocent looking doors by daylight turned into open doors leading to bars full of young croatian men by night.

remember the hot guy on ER? croatian. and most of the gentlemen here look much the same.

only two of us ventured into our neighborbars. i'm sorry to report that i was one of them because i was in no condition by this point to be doing so. both in appearance and my conduct after several glasses/bottles of wine. we hobbled around with some newfound friends though until they took us to a bar with a 20 kuna cover. enough was enough. i'm quite sure i had one eye closed to maintain proper balance.

i woke up feeling like someone was taking a hammer to my head. before you feel sorry for me though, one of us girls was sick - food poisoning no doubt from elvis' joint.


after a shower and as i start to get ready, i too am troubled with the same affliction and find myself hugging the porcelain god of croatian cuisine as well. sorry to be gross. be careful of what you eat out there people. and i have an iron stomach. mostly.

only a minor speedbump though and we head out for the day of exploring within the walls of our city and out. up the road a few blocks, just outside the city we happen upon the excelsior hotel where we hope to find a fabulous view of the adriatic sea - and an absurd sunset from their vast terrace.



we find here that you can get more standard fare: the [later we determine] indespensible club sandwich and french fries. sometimes that's what you need [when the cuisine doesn't meet your expectations]. the hotel is really a ghost town. we're out of season like linen and white shoes.

back inside the walls of the old city we found another wine bar - they're all the rage since cameron opened d'vino, these wine bars. it was empty except for us and our tranny bartender who from all accounts looked like a fairly attractive woman but sounded like a man. or a barking seal.

a late night dinner and a lot more pulled together, we went up to the hilton. hey, don't judge, people. all the local resto menus looked exactly the same. while i don't like to hate on anyone's cuisine, we found the food to be not so good. and these girls needed a decent meal. we were really happy with the hilton - not to mention it's a really lovely hotel [though not on the beach]. they had 13 guests.

side note: we even tried a pizza joint one night. doused with hot sauce the pizza was edible. but the wine they gave us there undrinkable. oh, we're supposed to add water to the wine, according to proprietor. have you ever heard of such a thing? perhaps you can see why our favorite wine bar was so crucial. croatia is a wine-growing nation. i unreservedly suggest you take advantage of the wine bars and hotels however, and don't necessarily trust the mom and pops places for wine recs.

we got into bed quite early afterwards. as we had an early 8 am meeting with a driver who would take us to visit montenegro the tiny neighboring country about 40 km away.

early a.m. after a stop for coffee over at the hilton (thankfully i'm never the only one who must get her day jumpstarted with little roasted beans) our van is ready. at first i was bumming to ride shotgun with malden, our bald-headed, post-middle-aged tour guide. turns out he's a real doll-baby and he speaks very good english and knows a thing or two about montenegro, i'm in the right seat.

about one hour later, entering montenegro, it's just picturesque. kotor bay is surrounded by the mountains and in the center of the bay is a church and a monestary, accessible by boat. we drive along the coast until we stop at a tiny fishing village. situated here is an adorable cafe. we indulge in another coffee at the base of these green and gray mountains on a crisp morning. we're told by malden that michael douglas and catherine zeta-jones are contemplating buying property here.

20 minutes down the old road and we arrive at a walled city, kotor. through the giant gates, we couldn't believe our eyes. people. [finally, people.] enjoying coffee and beers and wine and cigarettes in this tiny piazza lined with restaurants and shops. i think we could have stayed all day, especially once we found what was to come but we spent only one hour. curiously, though the men here are also quite good looking, nearly every one of them had sweatpants on. not 2009 sweatpants, whatever those are. joey buttafuoco sopranos, weird too-thick gray sweatpants with pockets. it was like a sea of brody jenners from the neck up and a jc penney advertisement for athletic pants from the waist down.

we coffee'd for a bit then back in the van. an hour-long wind to the top of the mountain, 2522m. for a ham sandwich. we're told by malden that we can't miss what everyone travels to the top for, a cured pork sandwich and a glass of honey wine. along the lonely road we stop and photograph the the unspoiled beauty of the valley below. and the cows in the road. the ham sandwich is nothing to write about but the sweet cafe we enjoyed it in and the conversation with malden made up for it.

back at the bottom of the mountain we meandered through the town of budva, the other touristy spot of shops and eats. we met a dog there too, we called him monty, who followed us through the streets as we shopped and joined us for dinner and wine. i did not enjoy leaving that scruffy dog behind.

the following day we spent on top of the wall of the old city, back in dubrovnik, which was a fantastic idea and cost about 8 kuna. you can enjoy the complete view of orange-tiled rooftops in a couple of hours, walking along the tops of the walls. today, it's stunning. and you wouldn't know just by looking that in 1991 this old city was besieged by serb forces for 7 months and heavily damaged by shelling. it has been fully restored.

later that evening found us at our local watering hole, d'vino where we felt very at home. we had some joiners that night to add color. i'm certain we solved a lot of the world's problems that night during our discussions. once again, our sweet friend cameron generously provided bottomless bottles of croatian wine along with plates of charcuterie and cheeses. he even let me use his laptop to check email. i couldn't resist facebook friending him. even philippe and emma became dogbook friends.

the trip was made so much more fun by our friends, bar manager frano and cameron and the beloved beagle emma. imagine the surprise last week as i went to wish him happy birthday on facebook. cameron died a few weeks ago. and so, what should have been 34th birthday wishes on his facebook page were actually messages of love and missing him. my heart stopped.

his heart stopped.

so my friends, a toast to cameron wilson. i didn't know him long. to me, his lesson in his life and death is to dream and do. don't wait. it could be over tomorrow. be in the world.

cork, 1720 14th street nw, u street corridor, washington dc

my two new and now obsessions: the u street corridor and vampires. what the? i know you're thinking vampires don't really have a place in this blog. but i don't really give a bat's ass about that. humor me, please. i'm gonna give it a whirl, incorporating them. you'll see it's not too difficult for my overactive and fantasizing pea-brain. i'm not embarrassed too much to admit that i wish i could figure out how to bump into a vampire on 14th street between p and u.

[hee, p-u]

so cork. not just any old wine bar. wine bars back in the day seemed like a particularly snobbish trend to some. now the wine bar is as routinely seen as reality tv, leggings and vampires - and, i know you're with me in hoping none of these trends fade out with time.

if there's not a cozy wine bar in your 'hood, well i advise venturing out to explore. here in dc there's a profusion of them to visit and get your drink on. they're definitely my preferred setting.

cork opened up in the logan/shaw neighborhood about 1 1/2 years ago. the girls and i celebrated my pre-vampire-loving birthday there just days after they opened. serving small plates designed for sharing, we experienced lots of goodies that night, as i recollect. so why haven't i been back? pure stupidity with a dash of laziness mixed in, that's why. silly me.

cork was opened by former politicos and couple, diane gross and khalid pitts [who could totally btw be badass looking vampires from the enemy coven - and i mean that in a sickly good way. check 'em out].

i love stories of brave people who leave their old careers behind for a new passion that affects their lifestyles so drastically as this endeavor must. this saturday night, khalid and diane are both running around attending to customers, constantly making sure we're taken care of. charmers they are, especially the sweetiepie, diane.

chef ron tanaka, formerly of cityzen, creates the simple looking dishes which are actually not your run-of-the-mill standards, but instead leave [me] thinking, why didn't i think of that?

i also discovered that tom brown is the bartender. he's the brother of my former colleague, derek brown - cocktail craftsman and renaissance man of the gibson. must've been in their dna. i'm just sayin' there's much more than meets the eye here. cork is a real easy-going place. so if you're thinkin' even for one second it's intimidating to visit a wine bar in this eclectic neigborhood, think again, silly geese.

can we talk twilight for a sec? i know i'm slow to get on board with it, but thank goodness i did not acquire this unquenchable thirst sooner. you mustn't have anything else going on in your life when you get a grip on these books. let me assure you that this teenybopper drama has taken a hold of me like nothing else has, except for cooking, and probably new york. and maybe prada - well and bergdorf goodman's in general. whatever, you get the point.

and thank heavens twilight books are cheap, especially when your friends already own them. this is how i'll justify my comcast on demand charges of watching twilight the movie three times in 10 days.

omg. i know.

i hope i never come across rob pattinson because i too would be puma-pawing him like a 13-year-old. seriously, this girl needs a summer romance like like i needed that winter snuggie.

so that's why i'm out saturday night. it's not too late to activate a summer romance. my friend and i ventured over to 14th street nw. she: looking for a suitable amount of trouble with the goal of escaping the stress of bad relationship gone increasingly bad. me: i respect that plus i always like to toy with new accessories like lampshades. plus i've been holed up with vampire books and movies of late.

yay, cork wasn't jam-packed with oenophiles. [another good thing about having so many choices now on 14th is that they're all just a tad less crowded.] it's cozy, cork. the tiny main room with the bar is where you wanna be, unless you're with a group, or not as interested in opportunities as i am. very dimly lit. the bar, bounded by cubby shelves exhibiting wine bottles in perfect organized manner. cork is comforting and traditional-old in feel but still clean and tidy crisp. i like that. i think it's not easy to achieve this vibe but cork does it flawlessly.

seated in a little booth with prime access view of the room, exposed brick, austere lightbulbs, chalkboards with tonight's flights of wine. our modelesque waitress comes around with every attention on us seconds later. she's very professionally helpful with wine and food questions.

cork features small plates. [insert sound of angels singing] how many things can i try? a lot - very inexpensive plates each implausibly priced from $3-$11. huh?

we opt for the chicken liver mousse with caramelized shallot marmelade. i'm so happyproud of my girlfriend who claims to be a picky eater, though she's always toe-to-toe experimenting with my love of all things liver. we also get a small cheese board served with honey and a drizzle of balsamic reduction. i highly recommend you try the simply titled "avocado" plate. slices of fresh buttery vivid pure avocado served on crunchy warm bread with a sprinkling of toasted pistachios and orange-pistachio oil [i'm guessing]. also, i do recommend the lemon-dusted calimari served with caper remoulade. crisp and warms your heart. here i think i can't be any happier.

well sometimes - you can be happier, friends. yep we sashayed outta there, with minimal financial damage i think - around $90 for the two of us. an unheard-of bargain, no?

[we wanted to pop in to the gibson for a cocktail. as you know, there's no popping in to the gibson - even in august. the doorgentleman took my number and said he'd text me when our table was ready. are they ahead of their time, or what? i later missed my text due to fun i was in the middle of but i'll report back from the gibson another night very soon.]

next door is marvin [not marvin's, as it's sometimes mistakenly referred to]. and directly up to the roof deck. we made instafriends with a few people, including a little version of jacob black for my friend. seriously. so innocently cute and naively sweet he was.

enough about jacob black, though.

imagine the electrifying thrill that nearly sent my heart pounding out of my chest when i got a visual on my own personal edward cullen lookalike. it took all of 8 seconds to craft a reason and nestle myself into his personal space at the bar. and it took all of 3 seconds for him to ditch the ladies he was previously angling to be taken in by the scent of my blood [or my lotion]. fixated the remainder of the night we were.

a tousled-yet product-kissed chaos of imperfectly perfect hair. tall, smooth and dreamy he was and with graceful, cheetahfast attentiveness to my every bar-need. did i mention that he's french? not that it would've mattered. because he was not only stunning to look at, but tirelessly gentlemanly and intriguing. and intrigued.



summersmitten kitten. all caps. i got a few lovely surprise kisses as we meandered around outside after departing marvin. he texted me [the obligatory] three days later.
oh boy. sigh.

i took my heart to san francisco, chapta 4

sad, so sad to be leaving the astonishingly beautiful countryside and hills of the napa valley and sonoma, i look ahead to what might lie ahead tonight. or not. pahleeze. who gives a frog's fat ass, i'm having a fabulous time.

i enjoy a leisurely drive. i'm not in a hurry, savoring my visits to bouchon bistro and the oakville grocery. i feel lucky. which is only slightly better than feeling cute. which i also feel. an electrifying combination. the bloody marys didn't hurt either.

as i reach the fog/golden gate, burr, it's jarringly cold and cloudy again.

i did just leave behind the best place on earth. where i had a lovely hotel room, paid for. and my potential dream man that i did not meet in napa. [he was probably working in his winery and i didn't make it there due to over-imbibing last night].

i got a little lost finding my way back to my home-pimpin-home known as the ritz. under normal circumstances i'd get a little stressed, if not full-on frenzied on the verge of crying, i'll admit. i know it's a small town though, san fran. plus it's really just a cooool town, no worries getting lost. nothing wrong with getting acquainted. due to the run i took earlier this day i easily recognize the track i need to get on, but not before meandering through the rolling streets and gardens around presidio boulevard - which is enchanting, romantic and i don't know, i think reminded me a little of newport for lack of good comparison.

how strange timing is though, and i pull up to the circle drive at the ritz directly behind 14.5 as he's removing those silly golf clubs from his rental. lucky for him he gets to admire my cute tibi dress. in the elevator on the way up i bestow upon him his winegift as well as two macaroons i picked up for him at bouchon bakery (situated btw right next door to bouchon the bistro - so totally darling). sweet of me, no?

because i got lost, i don't get to catnap like i would normally like to do. instead i need to get my fanny in the shower and get ready for exciting night out with a couple of his friends. hell. nothing that another $4 minibar red bull can't fix.

oh and if you're wondering, of course i donned the ritz-carlton bathrobe. duh. i contemplated having one of the ritz-angels come draw a bath for me [a cool bargain at $75] except that the bath menu states that it takes an hour and i don't have that kind of time. [yes, i just said "bath menu".] i didn't even have time to unwrap the ritz-carlton slippers. i love everything about this suite. i love that i can plug my ipod in and blast it like i'm at home. i love the lighting in the bathroom. i'm having a love-hate with the lighted 40x magnifying mirror; mostly love. i love the iron, i love the blowdryer, i love the fact that they're always coming to turn down your bed and leaving chocolates, water, more towels [more towels? what the f do you think's going on in here - believe me 18 towels is plenty]. i don't want to leave and if not for my dog philippe i think i could stay. is it my imagination or does everything at the ritz work better than my stuff at home?

so be-bopping down to the lobby, i'm gorgeoused up and we pop into a taxi to michael mina's latest greatest, rn-74 in the millennium tower on mission st. michael mina is one of those chef gods. not to the level of thomas keller or michel richard or my beloved wylie dufresne, but right up there. almost. i'm on the edge of my seat. rn-74's been open only a month. long enough to hopefully have ironed out any grand opening kinks. it's a resto that is heavily focused on wine - with a wine list long enough to impress even the snobbiest - 80 some pages. the restaurant is the benefactor of a sf gentleman who has opened his private collection to their patrons. it's very very dark in here. i like it. cool bar and bar scene to the right, we meet up with 14.5's friends, a charming, funny, sweet couple, and did i mention funny. and cool. i'd like to be a part of a couple like that. i'm envious. after a cocktail we're seated in the dining room situated to the left. of interest, perpendicular walls have high hanging, old-school train signs highlighting wines of tonight. one of them, supposedly, features wines of which there's only one bottle left - priced to move. cool concept, no?

i order for my appetizer the beef carpaccio. something raw is always on my list it seems. must be the wild animal in me. [roar.] goodness gracious - not only beautifully presented, categorically yummy. charred scallions, kohlrabi (ah ha, couldn't place it that night), macadamias and black truffle [that you could in fact taste] creme fraiche. a true gift this appetizer and one i couldn't be happier with.

my entree: grilled cobia amandine. served with sauteed blue foot mushrooms and romaine hearts and nicoise olives. and lots and lots of crunchy almonds coating the fish {perhaps too many?}. i really loved this dish too. i have no complaints. almost everyone loved their dishes as a matter of fact. except that 14.5 ordered the pan-seared halibut which was disappointingly overcooked to the point that it coulda been called fish jerky. ick. poor thing was terribly let down. huge bummer. i can only imagine what woulda happened to me working the fish station at citronelle if i'd sent that $hit out. i would have been sent home for the night. but not before receiving a bollocksing that would surely leave emotional scarring.

for dessert, i went what i'll call "off the registry" and mistakenly ordered the kumquat confiture. there was nothing confit about these kumquats. i might as well have been gnawing orange peels. son of a biatch. i think they should have been brunoised, or tiny diced and the dessert would have been better. back to the positive, 14.5 ordered yummy vanilla bean gelato that was a homerun. [more on homeruns later.]

wife of fun cute cool couple is really in the know. a girl after my own heart. she suggests that we head to a speakeasy not too far away. sadly they won't join as they've gotta baby at home. i'm pretty sure she's got the number in her cell phone, which is tres cool. she calls ahead to [warn] let them know we're coming and asks for the password: gatecrashers.

we head to bourbon and branch, a door without a sign. ring the doorbell, give him the gatecrasher password and host lets us in, leads us to very old, tiny booth table. good thing we're skinny. i ate a $hit-ton today and that could've been embarrassing trying to squeeze my non-spanxed arse in there.

hmm. i ordered a fruity something - you know you have to get extraordinary drinks at a speakeasy. none of this vodka soda nonsense. we had a nice time. i think at least. 14.5 likes deep discussions, as he's taking this period in his life to do some reflective introspection after icky buzzkill breakup. i'm pretty patient about this stuff. it's been a few conversations since the topic's been brought up. i gotta say though, to me, when someone continues to bring up the old ball and chain, it's a neon-flashing-honking-screaming sign that reads: i'm not gonna be into you no matter how cool you are. [this of course doesn't make me any less cool.] i'm just sayin. beware these people, people. and whatever you do, don't get yourself all lost and wrapped up. because it's a train headed to heartbreak city [population: me]. i'm saying this to myself mostly, because as outsiders, you already know this.

we're really sleepy after this long long day. we head back to spike lee's place [the ritz] and fall asleep. seriously. we do. that's it. i swear.

the oakville grocery co, 7856 st. helena highway, oakville, ca

love at first sight.

{it's not just a song by kylie minogue}

some would argue that love at first sight is horsepuckey fairytalery. it's not possible. it's silly and nonsensical. well it is silly and nonsensical but you can't help it when it happens.

[if you must know, i think it's happened to me many times: matt damon in mystic pizza, dude from columbus, mr. strong, geez could i go on? i should really get a handle on this boycraziness.]

believe it when i say it's possible. i've somewhat successfully achieved it. at times. but i've preserved a love at first sight love for only one thing. and it's a place. here i go again sappy-sentimental me.

people wanna know why i'm a chef. well here's the real story. what sparked what i do today. i'm not makin this up. you never know what might inspire you.

as i was experiencing career-boredom in an irksome and dead-end corporate marketing job, my girlfriends and i took a trip to the napa valley. giggling, hungry, buzzed between wineries [and driving a rust-colored and heinous pontiac aztec i recall, that we were inebriatingly referring to as "the ass tec", which we thought quite funny] we happened upon the oakville grocery co., where we found the motherload of all things snacky to indulge in as we went about our winery tours. a happenin' place, the oakville grocery. it's packed with people. it's completely and utterly overwhelming with stuff you need and then there's a whole bunch more stuff you don't. but you know someone who might.

in a merryhappy wine-induced state [kind of like beer goggles i guess], little did i know i'd started obsessing about this place. long after i came back to dc, i was still harboring romantic feelings for the oakville grocery co.

the oakville grocery might be the best market ever. the idea is you stop in to grab some bread, snacks, gifts, whatever, between wineries. they have everything from wine to charcuterie to fresh salads and sandwiches. all to go.



then they have an inundating array of jams, tapenades, oils, vinegars, baking ingredients, chips, salsas, sauces, i could go on and have.



officially in love with the oakville grocery, i resolved to bring a similar concept to the dc area.



but once i started investigating what i thought i needed to do to get this endeavor going, i got sidetracked. you see, i am an all-or-nothing chick. overwhelmed by the fact i didn't know enough about food to open a market, i got paralyzed and gave up. that is, until my job pissed me off to the point of no return.



next thing you know i'm in culinary school. in order to graduate, i have to do an externship at a restaurant for 6 months. two years later i leave what was going to be a 6-month stint. and, i'm teaching at the culinary school. and then i cook at another restaurant for a year. all the while catering on the side to make ends meet. [never did miss a mortgage payment but there were some scary close calls].



blah, blah, blah. a major detour off highway 29 north. enough of that boring stuff.



i revisited the other afternoon before heading back to san francisco. it's exactly the same as i remember it. and i'm still head-over-heels.

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.}

capitol lounge, 229 pennsylvania avenue, se, dc

bored on a thursday night? can't decide where to go? before you make any rash decisions (like popping in to capitol lounge), ask yourself the following questions:

am i in my 20's?
am i broke or nearly so?
do i live within 4 blocks of capitol lounge and without car/bike/metrocard?
am i literally dying of thirst?
am down to my last 5 bucks before payday?
are all my friends, plus someone i want a meaningless, tawdry one-night stand with enjoying cap lounge right now?

if you answered yes to all of these questions, knock yourself out. go on to cap lounge. it's ok, this could be the place for you.

if, however, you answered no to any one of these, don't go. just don't do it. even if you're
30 something and look 20 something, i cannot stress this enough - it's not gonna be your cup o' tea.

if, however, you're not going to follow my new and official capitol lounge rule, you best get half in the bag before you go. and whatever you do, never admit to it, like i'm doing here. just deny you were there. no one will remember you anyway so you can deny it.

i'm horrified it was the last on our stop of dc bar-hopping on a random thursday evening. do we still call it bar-hopping?

so, we were perusing the town for an interesting social scene. i'm even more horrified that we struck out so much so at previous two restaurants that we ended up at dc's famed capitol lounge. if walls could talk i bet this place has some really disgusting stories to tell.

i heard someone once say that the best thing that ever happened to cap lounge was that it burned down. rebuilt it, they did, though.

what i wanna know is did they rebuild it with the stinky, slimy remains of the burned down building or what's going on here? who's their contractor? for the love of all things holy, why are they burning 15 glade strawberries and cream scented candles all over the bar? that smell, combined with the smell of the bar sludge might be the grossest combination i've ever experienced. the bathroom was a nice departure from the smell of the bar area.

did you know cap lounge claims to be a wine bar? ha, ha, ha, that's so funny - seriously that cracks me up.

who gave me the shot of southern comfort and lime? it's taken me two days to get over this place.

oh and this is a good one: to cap off my night at cap lounge, i almost got in a girl fight on my way out.

a young, ill-mannered and sadly fashioned hill staffer had the nerve to call me 30 and told me i was too old to be there (guess she was afraid her beau was enjoying my rock and republic'd arse).

all i have to say to that is, honey, you're right. i am too fabulous for this place and so you can have your beloved capitol lounge - you fit right in. stinky slimy bars are not my scene. {just in case i was wondering, which i wasn't.}

p.s. all this aside, if you saw me at cap lounge the other night, you'd think i was having the time of my life; i even broke out my best michael jackson impersonation, which is quite a scene. well it wasn't the time of my life but it sure was fun. at the end of the day, i'm a firm believer in it doesn't really matter where you are if you're with fun people. true dat.

vinoteca 11th & u streets, washington dc

after checking out a neighborhood art exhibit opening of a friend, the girls and i popped over to vinoteca for a snack and, of course, some wine. it's not my first visit to vinoteca, in fact i've come several times.

vinoteca has some notable characteristics and i'll give it a shot capturing them all.

it's an amalgamation of hippy, boho, chic, grunge, urban, laid back, neighborhoody, stylish, wine-snobbery, friendly, inviting, look-cool-without-trying-too-hard, hopefully you know a thing or three about fine food kind of place.

have i confused you? point is, all kinds of people will enjoy vinoteca and it's a not-too-intimidating place to learn about food and wine if you need it; otherwise, sit back, relax and enjoy its slow-paced nature. row house turned restaurant, this place feels like it's been decorated by your best friends but has a raw, inner-city sleekness to it, to boot.

i'm happy the patio is open for seating on this early october evening of 70 something degree weather. the view is urban and colorful and typical for the new spots on u street - being an area that's up and coming, you're used to seeing a mixture of new and dilapidated buildings and all sorts walking by. unfortunately you hear almost constant earsplitting sirens of firetrucks racing by. it's just what it is, you're in the city, and you know it.

don't let the vibe fool you - it may seem laid back but they're not playing around when it comes to wine or food. the wine list is lengthy and sophisticated and what's more, you can order a flight of wine for comparison or discussion or just plain enjoyment. they offer by the glass - a 2.5 oz taste or a 5 oz glass. pretty cool, no? they experiment with house-made charcuterie here; a respectable and risky endeavor as this takes time and effort like you wouldn't believe. the menu is composed of a few nice salads, sandwiches, panini. the entrees mostly include what i'll call classics like duck confit and sauteed rainbow trout with pommes puree and beurre blanc but is also sprinkled with these smart boys' more inventive ideas like salmon and cantaloupe or bison hangar steak with dill chimichurri and housemade "tommy sauce". what's tommy sauce?

i should preface the rest of this information by saying one of my favorite reasons to come here is because the three gentlemen running the kitchen are three of my former students. i'm not trying to take any credit for their astuteness in the kitchen because they were all talented in school. they shared a natural knack for cooking and care of food both of which cannot be taught. it was obvious to me that they worked hard, took school seriously and loved what they did (noteworthy because for every culinary school student who cares about the food, there is one who does not - and perhaps i will address this someday in another article). i digress. clearly these dudes were destined for this. in my opinion, culinary school breeds a couple of things hopefully: professionalism, knowledge, the drive to be a genuinely good cook and friendship. after their respective externships at highly-acclaimed restaurants scattered about dc, they quickly (and some would say, prematurely from an educational and experience standpoint) jumped aboard a ship bound for who knew where. risky? perhaps, but why not, they're young, smart, driven and proud.

anyway, back to the food and the experience.

after a quick hello to my friends in the kitchen, where i learned about a couple of new menu additions: bison steak tartare and shrimp and saffron grits wrapped in a crepe, i knew i wanted to try those. friends had already ordered the famous vinoteca beef sliders, little burgers with caramelized onions and cheese on top. i ordered a surprisingly good glass of 2006 hall vineyards sauvignon blanc. reasonable at $11 a glass. while the cheese flights seem like a flexible, common-sensical way to enjoy a cheese tasting, as a cheese aficionada, i found it to be rigid. why? because i wanted a few different kinds of cheeses (humboldt fog from the american tasting, the manchego from the spanish and my all-time favorite colston-basset stilton which was not available in a flight). well if you do this, as explained by our waitress, that is, if you order random cheeses you don't get the yummy little accoutrements you would if you ordered one of the cheese flights (like quince paste or walnuts, blueberries and whatnot). being gracious, i ordered the american flight because my friend wanted the humboldt fog. unfortunately something went awry though and we received two hard cheeses; i didn't mention anything - they were good but i'm pretty sure we were supposed to get pepato and it wasn't on the plate.

the food arrives and the burgers are not surprisingly muy delicioso, though i think a little more salt could have made them perfecto (just me). the bison steak tartare was good, it was spicy with fresh jalapenos and whole grain mustard. the problem for me here was the dill. i like dill; i love dill, in moderation. in here there was too much dill and it overpowered the flavor of the bison for me. poised atop the tartare were crispy delicate homemade potato chips that added a nice touch though. i must add that i did eat all of the tartare - the dill started to grow on me with every bite. the shrimp and grits in the crepe were quite nice. perfectly seasoned, beautifully presented atop a bouillabaisse sauce (learned later from chef seth as the waitress didn't know). the saffron was an excellent idea to add to the grits and i will be stealing the crepe idea from chef russell (thanks, russell).

all in all another enjoyable evening at vinoteca. service was a little slow on the refilling of the wine but our pixie waitress was charming and sweet nonetheless. i'm so impressed and proud of my friends seth, brennan and russell, who took such a chance. perhaps i'm secretly a little jealous. these gentlemen deserve a lot of respect and i wish them all the best.

sonoma

wednesday evening i had a date at sonoma. interestingly, since we didn't have a reservation, we were told we could sit at the bar or sit upstairs on those weird, too-low sofas. as we discussed leaving, we were interrupted by the hostess who informed us they would have a table in 10 minutes. (huh? why not mention that in the first place? of course we'll wait 10 minutes. geez, why is it so hard?!)



oh - a cancellation.



why is there only one sparkling wine by the glass at a "wine bar"? and it's a prosecco - sadly one that's too sweet to have more than one of, by the way.



charcuterie plate (of course i ordered it) was good but doesn't have the accoutrements that proof does.



i've only had meat and cheese at sonoma in the past so i was initially excited to see what they could do when using fire. i found the menu limited. i wanted something to jump out at me. the special sounded good but when i saw it arrive at the table next to ours, it didn't look as appetizing as it sounded.



waiter moved my OCD date's glass not by the stem but by putting his entire paw over the glass. i may not have noticed, but sadly he did, and he proceeded to obsess about it for the next 5 minutes until he could order another. ugh.



i ordered a cheese and mushroom tartelette as well as the pork tenderloin pate (both from the appetizer menu). i was a little saddened by the look of the tartelette (brown and dry) and by the fact it was slightly underseasoned; otherwise it was good - oh and the baby arugula salad perched next to it was lovely.



the pork tenderloin pate was - not surprisingly after i thought about it - dry. why attempt such a thing? pork tenderloin is always dry if cooked through. i needed sauce with my pate. or it needed a much larger fat percentage in the mixture. the viognier suggested was marginal too (and i usually love a viognier).



my date's hanger steak was undercooked and had to be put in the oven for a bit (um, i think refire in order here but what do i know? i'm just a cook). oh and the chefs knew i was there - love you chef b - come on though - had i been in that kitchen i would've been screaming at you - let's have some attention to detail when cooking for a fellow cook.



oh i hate sounding so negative but i must say i was disappointed. i looked so cute that night too. i should've had a big smile on my face with each bite.



perhaps it was just the company.

proof

wine is proof god loves us and wants to see us happy
ben franklin

i really enjoyed an evening at proof thursday night. i hadn't been since february and, at that time i didn't enjoy it as much as i had several times prior.

even sitting at the bar alone for 30 minutes - which i never do - was liberating. bartenders were sweet.

i really, really, really like this place. it was so light and summery inside (i thought it was a cozy winter spot). i moved outside when friends arrived. i didn't eat anything but charcuterie and cheese as this is what i typically do at happy hour. ann, our server, was fabulous, as always. wine great. i can't say enough good things. it was a perfect night.