national harbor debauchery

washington national harbor - brand-spankin huge. holy mother of colossal newness. what was a dubious opening last winter, a few restos and shops opening in the dead of cold and amidst crappy economy, things have changed [all caps]. i visited saturday to be a part of a friend's birthday fete and whaddayaknow, the place is thriving. unless you traverse the woodrow wilson bridge you probably feel like national harbor was built overnight. where the heck have i been?

this place is massive. and pristine. it kind of looks pleasantville-movie set fake and plastic, void of any personality. yet. i'm sure it won't be long before it cultivates its own magic charm.

plan was to meet in old town alexandria and hop the water taxi.

haven't you heard? oh yes, we just joined the ranks of cities with water taxi service. i can't say it enough: kickass. for $8 it shuttles you directly from old town alexandria to the national harbor leaving every 20 minutes or so. [there's a pretty cute 1st mate on the one i rode too btw.]

so i missed the 4:40 scheduled water taxi with my amigos because i got caught up in my gorgeous day. if you head over to the marina, just walk up and buy a ticket, easy breezy. the schedule's online at http://www.potomacriverboatco.com/ - one leaves every 15-20 minutes. it's nice, the water taxi. i would say it's equivalent to the wall street-jersey city ferry yet not as pleasurable as the ferry from st. thomas over to st. john. this isn't exactly the caribbean ya know.

the boat's quite clean. sit indoors or not. me, i chose to enjoy the ride outside - a little crowded with the bad-shoed fannypackers and with complete lack of seating but worth it on this astonishingly perfect day, 85 degrees sans humidity. i'm trying my damndest to not look tourist.

i'm told it takes 20 minutes to zip over.

not exactly. 37 minutes after embarkation, we are at our first stop, gaylord national resort and convention center [yes, gaylord's long rich arm stretches from oklahoma to the east coast].

i strongly recommend you disembark here because it takes another 20 minutes for this boat to get its act together and get you over to the next stop, which would take you 5 minutes to walk to your bar/resto and as a bonus you can familiarize yourself with the goings on. if you're loving rubbing up against strangers though, the the 2nd stop lands you smack in the heart of all the action.

did you know that the national harbor spent $hit tons of money to transplant that spine-chilling awakening statue of the man coming out of the ground that used to be at hain's point? he's not as disturbing coming out of the playground with kids jumpin on and off him. but holy crap he still gives me the creeps.

(scary awakening statue moved from hain's point -top photo - to national harbor - bottom.)

anyway, there's all kinds of shops and galleries that i'd like to go back and check out when i'm not headed over there to get my drink on. [and my lampshade on.] btw there's more scheduled to open too so just be patient.

there's a saturday market from 10-3 and friday night jazz concerts and outdoor movies during the week. just check out http://www.nationalharbor.com/. i think a terrific family situation.

streets lined with hotels, condos, lots of resto's (though mostly chains i think) and shops and kiosks selling inane chatzkies, compactly situated in walking distance of each other. it's really un-dc. i can't even decide what to compare it to.

so i get off the boat, head up the steps and meet my friends over at rosa mexicano to get my paws on the indispensible pomegranate margarita. half of our gang's already getting situated at bobby mckey's - our destination spot for the birthday hooha. we're lucky to have prime real estate on rosa's patio on such a stunning day so we opt to linger for a bit. do get the fresh guacamole at rosa mexicano. and do request salt on your marg so you can use it to season the bland yet delectable guac. [i know, always, i need salt.]

on the word that birthday girl's already staked out her spot at bobby mckey's up the street, we head that way too after soaking up the last bit of sunshine for the day. it's gonna be a spectacle, bobby mckey's: it's a dueling piano bar. i think it's $15 bucks to get in. our table's opportunely front and center [well, slightly off center, there's a bachelorette party front and center]. birthday girl has already been on [exhibition] stage; damn we missed that.

no worries though. she'll be up there again. and again. and oh yeah, again.

someone gave the birthday girl a little mannequin pis statue. our mascot for the night, pictured here. if you press the button, he pees out whatever drink you've poured into him. i'm thirsty, why not? naughty, huh? reminds of something peddlers sell you in rome. only bigger.

(the real mannekin pis, in brussels)

so the deal at bobby mckey's: go ahead and get half in the bag so you're ok with impending mortification, especially if you're the guest of honor at your shindig. oh and don't take your mama here. unless of course she's ok with heaps of loutish vulgarity.

as the guest of honor your friends pay tribute to your birthday by shamelessly crafting song requests and embarrassing little secrets on cocktail napkins and handing them to one of the piano players along with a [bribe] tip.

next thing you know you're on stage performing for the encouraging crowd. and by that i mean they're encouraging you to act like a buffoon. you might find yourself playing the air-fiddle to their rendition of devil went down to georgia. you only live once.

(here a cocktail napkin request for poison's talk dirty to me. i guess the scribbly heart was a lame effort to get their attention so they'd play my song.)

now i understand how dudes get caught in the slippery slope of the strip bar and come home broke. the thought process of, if i can get something for a dollar, what can i get for $5? hell, what happens if i slip him a $20? well, here i can tell you, you get the same for a dollar as you would for $20. he completely ignored my request for poison's talk dirty to me - accompanied by a $20. and with my $5 he sang only one quick line of britney's womanizer. annoying. but for $1 i think i got a couple bars of something, can't remember what. those dudes make bank. i became known as green dress for some reason.

we had a lovely time at bobby mckey's. i'm not sure lovely is the right descriptor actually. a raunchybawdy loud good time. i'm not embarrassed. i unreservedly fulfilled my duty in celebrating my friend's birthday. that's what girlfriends are for, no?

we didn't make it to cadillac ranch afterwards for the old-fashioned mechanical bull-riding we had planned. i guess birthday girl was in no condition for that. next time. next time.

evidently i did meet a dude on my way out who i so generously gave my number to. what the? thanks to my amigos for sweeping me away from him, whoever he was.

px, near 728 king street, old town, alexandria

if you're interested in cocktail culture, search for the dim blue light. it's above a door located just barely off king street smack in the center of old town alexandria. behind eamonn's dublin chipper.

if it's on, px is open and there are people inside having super-intriguing cocktails. there's no sign letting you know the 20's fashioned speakeasy exists. if you haven't heard about it through the grapevine, how would you know? if you're in the know you're in the know. but make a reservation. or it's likely you won't get in. it's probable you won't get in.

lucky for you if you didn't know, there's me to impart these tidbits.

when px opened, you used to have to call to get the password or peruse the paper in a secret section to locate it. now, if you go to www.eamonnsdublinchipper.com, scroll all the way to the bottom on the right hand side, you'll see px. click on it, and it's easy to then make a reservation. turns out they have one time left for the night i'm to go: 11:30 pm. which is perfect, because i happen to have a date scheduled for this exact time. huh?


sous chef from last friday's escapade asked me out. for a cocktail. at 11:15 pm.

what the? are you jokin me? nope. this boy works round the clock. i know all the dating advice would say, run-don't-walk. who asks a girl out for 11:15 pm and expects cute fun girl to show up? [to that i say: phooey. it's not like anything else i've tried has worked of late. why not shake things up? this girl's got nothing to lose, but a little sleep and like i always say, i'll sleep when i'm dead.] besides, this guy lives in the 703, and practically the same zip, something i never explore, as you know. bonus.

my summer's about to become all about me and the fun i'm gonna have so i'm willing to be flexible. give it a whirl. never been on a date starting at 11:15 pm. anyway, i myself have an event tonight which will get me home just in time to prep for 11:15 pm date with sous chef. parfait. that's french for perfect.

i know you're worrying sick like i was: what's a girl to wear? you can't get thoroughly dolled up like normal. yet, it's a first date and you can't go unceremoniously relaxed-looking either. you gotta be casual-stylish-and-ever-so-slightly sparkly. it is still a date. i consider myself lucky to have the perfect perfect for nearly every occasion. [it's my hobby. and i believe that if you build it they will blah, blah, blah.]

so off i go at 11:14 pm towards old town. i pick him up outside his resto and we head down the street in search of the dim blue light.

px opened about three years ago. i happened to visit its very first night. i haven't returned and i'm not sure why. perhaps because one friend did a high jump over the arm of and onto the 200 year old sofa, breaking its foundation, creating an embarrassing little stir. someone might've recognized if i reappeared too soon. i believe it's safe to return.

it's ultra-exclusive - but don't be intimidated by this. you too can get in. but please act civilizedcool when you do. or charming. or look cute. me, i'm exhibiting all of these, so i'm good to go.

px stands for person extraordinaire, in france the word for VIP. px is owned by cathal and meshelle armstrong of restaurant eve, the majestic, eamonn's dublin chipper and px. along with dc-coolio cocktail master, todd thrasher.

mr. thrasher's cocktails are prepared like food. everything from scratch, except the alcohol. all the juice, fresh. and seasonal. homemade bitters, syrups and foams, even using tobacco in the cocktail, smoker's delight. ingredients include yuzu, hot peppers and cucumber and ginger, to name a few. he uses garnishes such as fresh glistening sticky honeycomb that gently melts into your cocktail while you sip - yummy. and pretty. he smashes, muddles, sets fire to things - to improve the flavor, bring out the natural oils and create additional drama so your drink is the best it can be. you must be patient for these concoctions though. it takes at least 5 minutes for the bartender to prepare each one. and sometimes longer.

so, we ring the doorbell, and in the little barred window of the ancient door a face appears asking us what we want. there's no password anymore, which i sort of wish they wouldn't have done away with. i tell the hostess i have a reservation. she opens the door and asks us to wait on the landing of the steps. behind us, a couple gets rejected and turned away. too bad for them.

we're led up the extremely dark creaky steps into a barely lit bar. it's an historic townhome. all wordwork is original. antique imported chandeliers. there's a few people chatting it up with bartender. we're asked to sit at the bar rather than a table, which is good i think for a first date here. the bar menus are presented to us. and by the way, don't even think about ordering a gin and tonic: you will certainly look ill-bred and you might just get the boot. which would be tres embarrassing. i know, i know, you've got to be kidding in this time of economic hardships to have to go through the silly rigmarole. just play along though, and no one gets snubbed.

oh the bar menu. any menu this detailed sends anxiety running through my heart and head and tummy. i have grown to dislike choosing things for myself. plus if i'm honest, i'm no cocktail connoisseur. sous chef asks the bartender what he recommends. no love though. he kindly asks us to review the menu. every cocktail has no fewer than 4 ingredients. in small print. and it's dark. names include eamonns cocktail [which is what i start with], the most aggressive fish in the sea and other whimsical titles. i later had the best champagne cocktail with homemade cherry bitters. delish.

so sous chef and i have lots and lots to discuss of course. we chat like we've known each other for a great long time. only being interrupted by the bothersome and ostentatious dudes next to us, who have their cell phone ringers on, complete with blaring ringtones. for the love of obnoxious, chatty wannabes, thinking they're cool but they're so not, who does that anymore? vibrate, man, it's the only way. i'm a little surprised they're not asked to leave or to turn those ringtones off. especially when one asks the bartender if his cocktail is coming any time soon.

we enjoy two and a half cocktails before it's finally closing time - a respectable 2 am on a wednesday. as we're shown out by hostess, she mentions in a sweet but assured way, that men should not be wearing shorts and flip flops to px. in fact she shouldn't have let us in at all, but did because it was late and we had reservations. yes, i suspected that to begin with. i knew in my heart, after having just gotten off work the chance of sous chef looking mammoth-casual was likely. you can't tell someone to bring appropriate clothes. to a first date anyway.

the funny thing is, and if you know me, it's more strange and promising than funny: i hadn't paid a moment's attention to what sous chef was wearing. this could be good my friends. and btw it's fantastic to be reminded at least for now, that dating doesn't always leave you questioning wtf just happened?

we're getting together sunday. at a more practical time of day.

until then, i suggest open your mind to the fancy cocktail and drama of px. you'll find no lack of conversation in a fascinating and sexy setting.

scene at the harris teeter, shirlington

i took a leisurely trip to the harris teeter last sunday evening to see what they had in store for me to pick up. a grocery trip for sport alone. i never get to savor shopping here because i'm always in a raging dash.



why harris teeter, and not safeway? why not whole foods tonight? the teeter happens to be the one with the most capacity for budding romance due to its proximity to me as well as upscale condos, dogpark, gym, library [hee, kidding], chinese takeout, ice cream shop and much more. beyond that, it's become known as a pick-up spot. well at least a good spot to gaze on good-lookings.


i've been told sunday is the day to go due to the throng of supposed hotties runnin around squirreling up for the week ahead. as a professional grocery shopper, i avoid a sunday trip to the store because everyone knows it's for rookies.



the produce and dairy items are entirely picked over, you have to mix and match cartons of eggs putting a full uncracked dozen together only if you're lucky. bins where there should be basics like garlic and onions are empty except for the papery skins, remnants and rogue cloves. one lonely sad and too dark avocado. what is it with this town and lack of groceries on sundays? this is a metropolis, no?

somewhat prepared to engage in conversation after studying some tactics for such an occasion, i don my juicy couture mexican dress: cute but appropriate grocery store attire. i pull into the parking garage perky and optimistic. oh hell. bad sign: plenty of parking. what's the? there's never parking at the teeter.



well i'm here, i do need a few items. perhaps i'm slightly too early [though i'm here at the exact time my friend was last sunday when she saw loads of desirables]. so i'm gonna take my leisurely and peruse all aisles. including frozen. including canned vegetables. i even went to the pesky upstairs aisles just to see what's at the teeter tonight. [and for the love of bacchus, why is the wine inconveniently located upstairs?]


i'll admit i've seen a lot of cuties here on past trips but i'm always in such a flippin hurry there's no time for extended eye contact, smiling, hair flipping, questions about various cuts of meat, and so on. consider yourselves fortunate, those who can calmly enjoy grocery shopping and checking people out. lucky grocery checker-outers.




hmm. nada, nothing, nope. not you either buddy. son of a gun. came up dry. not one person was remotely attractive. not even one dude with a chic. or a baby buggy. wonder what gives. don't worry i'll check back and re-report. hopefully with some news. perhaps i shoulda chosen safeway tonight. [though i think the day for safeway is monday.]

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.

notes on fish

a few friends have asked for fish recipes. i guess because it's summer and you're feelin a little bored [puffy].

i'm merryhappy to share with my buddies my $25k education plus years of working with some uber-talented [screaming] chefs. for free. others should benefit besides myself. just don't get annoyed when i ask for legal advice in return.

this blog's tagline is cooking, eating, drinking. i haven't said a darn thing about cooking. here you are thinking all i do is eat and drink on dates. all i really really do is cook.

i know you're smarter than me. really smart in many areas but perhaps lacking in confidence, common sense and creativity in the kitchen. whereas i suck at math, directions and electronics, [and dating] as you well know.

i'm not bagging on you; i'm not that smart myself but i'm a rockstar in the kitchen thanks to getting my ass kicked every night for a few years in dc's top resto.

i'm honking my own here but i have earned the right to refer to myself as a bmf in this department.

the thing is i have no fish recipes to copy and paste into this post. you can research ideas on what to serve various fish with. instead it's better if i provide you with proper technique. without technique, it doesn't matter what you serve it with. period.

firstly, i recommend finding a fish market. just cuz it's at whole foods doesn't mean you should buy it. [and please don't buy that pre-stuffed and seasoned crap - ick.]

if you can't find a fish market, check out the offerings at your grocery store but this is where common sense becomes real important. if it looks funny, don't buy it. fish should smell like the sea. it shouldn't be slimy. it's ok to check it out before that dude wraps it up in white paper and slaps a sticker on it. it's a free country. i also don't recommend buying anything farm-raised; it's pretty flavorless and tends to have high levels of blah, blah, blah. salmon and halibut are best from the pacific northwest. rockfish from maryland, virginia is great, not even sure you can get it anywhere else but red snapper's basically the same [and btw very hard to screw up].

if you're worried about mercury you can check out http://www.nrdc.org/health/effects/mercury/guide.asp and if you're mindful about eating over-fished fish, check out http://www.montereybayaquarium.org/cr/seafoodwatch.aspx. according to the site, the fish you should avoid eating altogether due to mercury include: king mackerel, marlin, orange roughy, shark, swordfish, tilefish and bigeye/ahi tuna. me, i don't avoid much of anything to be honest; do what's right for you.

there's really only one way i ever cook fish: pan-searing. i don't like poaching fish - i think it's gross. unless of course you're poaching it in butter (beurre fondue sauce - advanced class) or in olive oil, again advanced level and very expensive. i also don't care for baked fish that much because you really end up overcooking it. pan-searing is the way for this cook. and if you follow, you'll get it right every time.

when you get your fillets home, cut them into the portions you want - a dinner serving is 6-7 oz per fillet. pat them dry with a paper towel. season with salt and pepper only. sometimes i lightly coat the filets in a little wondra brand flour, tapping off the excess. (wondra flour can be found in the flour aisle but it's in a blue canister - it's superfine flour). this is to make sure the fish is dry and if you don't know what you're doing for real, this is a way to cheat to get that brown crust [i.e. better searing action] on the outside of your fish without overcooking it. bonus.

to cook your fish properly, you'll need either a well-seasoned cast iron skillet (that you know how to use properly, otherwise you're just gonna screw this up) or, a non-stick pan. i recommend the 2nd for you.

the other item that's key is a fish spatula. never tongs and never a plastic spatula - it's too thick - you need thin. set yourself up for success, man. i like this one from lamson sharp for about $25. don't worry you can use this to turn steaks or burgers or whatever. can be found at sur la table. maybe williams-sonoma. or look online. they come for lefties too. cool, no?

put the pan on the burner and let the pan get hot. i repeat and this is not a joke. don't let the fish get near the pan til it's hot - this could take 4 minutes, go check your email or whatever. once it's hot, pour olive oil in the pan. how much? i don't know, common sense is important here as well. enough - that's what chef used to say when asked how much. enough. you're not trying to fry the fish in it and if you don't have enough oil it's gonna burn and stick. use your best judgment.

let the oil get hot too. but not smoking hot. place the fish fillets (pretty side or skin side down first - you know, the side without any coloring or lines in it) in the pan and leave them there for probably 3-4 minutes. don't neglect the other side of the fish of seasoning. if the pan's superhot and you feel (due to common sense i've reminded you to exercise) it's gonna burn, pick the freakin pan up off the heat. don't mess with trying to move the fish at this point or you'll ruin it. just pick the pan up for a minute to relinquish some heat. you can pour a tad more oil in the pan if you want, too help cool down the pan.

you also need to consider the thickness of this fish - don't overcook it, especially if it's salmon [salmon should be served medium rare to medium - and if you don't like salmon it's because you've never eaten it properly cooked; there's no reason to dislike salmon - they're yummy and good for you so stop already].

if it's a thin fillet, you can cook it entirely on one side. you can. believe me. this ensures that it gets brown and if you're lucky a little crispy on the one side. if it's thick, after three or four minutes, use your lovely new fish spatula and take a careful peek to see there's browning going on. if so, flip the fish carefully. sautee on the other side for a minute or two. if you're serving it now, great. if not, transfer to a plate and set aside in the fridge. when you're ready to serve, let it come to room temp and finish it in the oven for about 3-4 minutes (375 ish). there you go. bang. easy.

what to serve with? well that all depends on your taste. me, i came from the french school of "fish does not like sweet" so unless i'm in a tropical setting i don't go for any of that mango pineapple salsa baloney with my fish. and even still. not so much.

in the summer check out the veggie aisle for stuff that looks good. baby bok choy quickly sauteed or grilled is nice. for salmon i like to thinly slice fennel (quick saute or raw) and segment some oranges and let that sit in a little red wine vinegar and the juice from the orange. makes a french cole slaw sort of. asparagus tips grilled or roasted is good too.

for rockfish, halibut, red snapper, or other mild white fish, mostly i prefer some mediterranean flair and chop up some kalamatas and slice some grape tomatoes. saute these together in olive oil and toss in some capers and chopped basil and/or parsley. yummy. serve with angel hair or on top mixed greens or cous cous. so easy. try halving or quartering whole romaine hearts, brush with olive oil and grill for a second. yummy. drizzle caesar dressing or even just basil oil on top with some lemon juice and voila. grilled zucchini and squash in the summer is good with anything, sprinkle it with salt & pepper and thyme or basil.

enjoy.

objects in rearview mirror are less important than they appear

happy procrastination friday. facebook's 25 things about me that might bore the bejesus out of you.
originally published 2 february, 2009.

1. i avoid using the shift key and rarely use caps. i like to type as fast as i can. someone told me for christmas he'd like to buy me a shift key. who cares? at least i don't shorten everything on top of that, like lol, lmao, lmfao, ttyl, bfn, bff, etc. i also do not use emoticons or put :), :P, ;) or any of that baloney after my sentences. (i think it's pretty cute when guys do it though.)

2. i never update my facebook status. why? because mine would just constantly say, jennifer tye is procrastinating. jennifer tye is being nosy and checking out your info. jennifer tye is mentally beating herself up for not doing what she really needs to be doing. jennifer tye is lazy. etc. and i really don't want you all to know that. p.s. for those of you who can "cook dinner, put the kids to bed, take apart your car engine and put it back together" while on facebook - rock on.

3. i am addicted to caffeine and don't feel bad about it at all. Never have, never will. my mom gave me coffee when i was 3 and i never looked back. at christmas my dad swapped out the hi-test for decaf. after a day-long headache i figured this out. i am addicted to caffeine.

4. speaking of coffee, i drink it with full-on heavy whipping cream and don't feel bad about that either. i think skim milk is horse-puckey and you might as well just put water in your coffee. if you haven't treated yourself to this little luxury, you should. did you know that skim milk is only 2% less fat than 2% milk? and 2% milk is only 2% less fat than whole milk? that whole milk is only 16% less fat than half and half? and half and half is only 18% less fat than heavy cream - which is only 36-40% total fat (way less than a stick of butter)? let me tell you that culinary school has paid off in more ways than you can imagine. oh the knowledge i have. thanks, chef brian.

5. my highschool boyfriend told me i was getting fat and i think i've had problems with body image ever since. thanks, rusty. no, really, thanks. it's thanks to you that i get my arse off the sofa half the time.

6. i only really started cooking when i was in my late 20's and before that i knew practically nothing. that's all i'll say about that for fear of giving my age away. turns out i have a knack for it.

7. speaking of age, i don't answer that question anymore. i won't join the stillwater class of 19XX because of that. i don't have my birthday on here because of that. for those of you tagging me in photos from the 80's i will tell everyone that you were my babysitters. i don't know why and i don't know when i developed a fear of people thinking i'm old. my friends think it's weird. i feel young and i just don't want to talk about it. that's all. next.

8. i read a lot. i read all that "crap" we were supposed to read in high school and college. i can't stand mindless romance novels. surprise, surprise, i know, coming from the girl who likes lifetime tv for women movies and reality tv.

9. i have enough "self portraits" to fill multiple photo albums. i love digital cameras for this reason alone - the days of wondering if they're gonna turn out are gone. click, view, oops, repeat, click, view, oops, repeat, click, view, nope, repeat, til you get a good one. try it.

10. nerd alert: i do sudoku every morning while enjoying my first cup of coffee.

11. i often buy things without thinking about the consequences. it usually works out well. this goes double for my dog, philippe.

12. speaking of philippe, he has chewed up more things than i have admitted to friends. if i told the total value of what he's chewed/destroyed you'd wonder why i've kept him at all. i sure do love that lil guy. he makes me real happy most of the time.

13. when i moved to stillwater after having lived in greece for two years, i was traumatized when i went to school in my wal-mart clothes and payless shoes only to find that children developed style when i was overseas. everyone looked so cute. we didn't know where to buy anything, not that my parents would've cared since i was only 10. i wore fake nikes and a fake "fur" coat and fake boat shoes. it was painful. see #14.

14. i buy shoes, handbags and many, many clothes, with very little buyer's remorse. (i also have a knack for justifying purchases so call me if you need help with that.) i can't admit how many points i earned last year at neiman marcus or my friends would put me in the looney bin. this does not include purchases made at my friends' boutiques, which can also be problematic. i need to stop. see #15.

15. i am paying off my debt and will be debt-free, except for house and school loan, by the end of this year. stop laughing, i'm serious.

16. i cannot have the following items in my house as i cannot be trusted with them: peanut butter, nutella, cereal, ice cream with little treasures in it like ben & jerry's, leftover pizza. i eat these things until they are finished - i cannot sleep until they're gone. i have thrown out nearly full jars of peanut butter when i only needed a small amount for a recipe because of this, even though there are people starving. i also believe that if you're gonna be bad, do it all in one day - don't drag it out for a week/month/year.

17. i would cook in a restaurant the rest of my life if chefs weren't so underpaid. i love the action. i love all the wonderful ingredients at your fingertips, stainless steel workspaces. i love a 1500 degree french cooktop. i think i also secretly love getting yelled at. in french. by an attractive french guy.

18. i drive really fast on the highway. i have to be the car in front and for some reason can't just drive behind someone in the slow lane. see a pattern here yet? gosh i have issues.

19. the saddest day so far in my life was when my cat, toby died. sounds shallow but i've been fortunate enough that no one close to me has tragically died, except from old age, which is different.

20. i have tried online dating and blind dating, getting set up, hiring a matchmaker, but found it all to be useless and unromantic. i am a walking seinfeld episode, keying in on the weirdest things, knowing full-well i am far from perfect. i believe i might be single forever. honestly. and i don't know if i'm ok with that.

21. i have loved matt damon since i saw him in mystic pizza and school ties. i'm real sad he keeps having babies that chick.

22. my right foot is nearly a full size bigger than my left. this does not handicap me in any way though. no pain, no gain.

23. i never judge people by what they do. i believe you have no idea why people do things unless you're them. i appreciate the same non-judgemental respect in return. i might judge people by what they wear though. personal style, whatever it is, is critical. i write this while wearing my sweatpants, of course, but that's because i should be walking my dog, not this silly long list.

24. even though i'm a chef, i love tony's frozen pizza. original crust. none of this monkey business with di giorno and freschetta, blah, blah, blah. cheap and crispy. i also love the whopper with cheese though i haven't a clue where the nearest burger king is.

25. i'm a sucker for a guy with an accent. or a guitar. or these days, even a large knife.

26. please brace yourself for a doozy/little known fact a few lucky people who finished this huge list get to know: i have a led zepplin tatoo on my butt that was put there by a peg-legged man called harpoon barry. i also own the full collection of britney spears. i still love her classics.

cava mezze, 523 8th street, se, barracks row, washington dc

ok, so lately i'm socializing on 8th street, southeast. aka barracks row. it's so easy to be there. if you wanna see me, invite me to nearly anywhere on 8th street and i'm alloverit.





i kinda want to move to that 'hood. seriously.

the restored barracks row district has it all in this smartly-dressed girl's estimation. and it keeps gettin better.

starting with the new greek resto, cava mezze. and as you well know, i love all things a la grecque [that's french for greek]. and since i can't seem to get my we-wear-short-shorts wearin' arse overseas, i'll happily settle for cava mezze for now.


the 8th street se corridor is a peaceful, casual neighborhood lined with historic rowhouses, in walking distance to lots of stuff. and there are always people out and about. if you don't have a dog, get one or borrow one. they have no less than three doggie boutiques on 8th, which is peculiar. but cool. philippe digs it too. [love that little guy with curiously good taste.]


i've kinda been obsessing about becoming a part of this community lately. the neighborhood is an amalgamation of all kinds: young broke hill staffers, military, cute young couples, baby buggies, gay guys, and hopefully attractive single straight guys if i'm serious about moving there.


of important note, the place is crawling with captivatingly cute marines milling around. the marine corps barracks are situated at the end of 8th street and that's where they live i guess. you should really try to get over there at the crack of dawn if you want to see them working out. who loves ya, baby?

my, my, they are fine specimens to behold. all fresh-faced, and perky and angular. and those summer blue-white dress uniforms are tadiefor. meow. my heart beats a little faster when i'm on 8th street. i feel a spring in my jimmy choo'ed step.


[i know, i know what you're thinking. i don't need a lecture. these young boys are like fireflies - they're fun to look at but you don't really want one to land on you.]


back to the newest spot to grace 8th. cava mezze. if i used caps i would capitalize the word coolio here. i totally have a crush on this place.



firstly, i love a summertime patio. cava mezze has a rooftop deck as well, sadly it's only open on thurs-fri-sat. what the?

for the love of the few, the proud, open that bad boy up. what are you waiting for?





cava mezze's got a chill vibe with undeniable style. really interesting mod lighting fixtures. it only took us 10 minutes to grab a spot on the patio. bonus. it was a monday.

i should mention it's half-priced bottles of wine on mondays. i don't give a black-footed ferret's ass about prices but hey, it's nice when something's almost free.

we enjoyed a couple three bottles of segura viudas cava, normally 40 but tonight only 20. guess that's why they reserve half-priced bottles for mondays - we all need to be back to work the next day. it was yummy bubbly and beyond that the bottle was cool. it was worth 20 bucks empty i think.

as you probably guessed if you're smart, which you are, because you're reading this, this spot's all about small plates. mezze.

appetizer-lover that i happen to be, i feel like i just entered st. peter's anteroom, the waiting area just outside the pearly gates. this menu, it's overwhelming me with so many small plate choices. it's enormous. where to begin. hoo rah.

oh and they bring you for free pita with olive oil, some red-orange spicy-as-hell pottage for dipping and warm kalamatas. i can't express how lucky i am for all the freebies i've been getting lately. what gives?

we share more than our share of goodies. before we can decide upon anything, we saw some jaw-dropping fries walk by. this summer's must have accessory.

how absolutely darling is that sweet little fryer basket? those handcut fries were evil good.

we also ordered the obligatory hummus and pita. just in case. yum, standard. yum.

greek grilled cheese was stickyummy. kefalograviera [huh?] cheese melted on yummy bread and drizzled with honey and sprinkled with thyme. holy mother of socrates. brilliant i say.

calamari: how boring. admit it though, isn't it your life's mission to find the perfectly cooked calamari? i don't know why it's so hard, but most places can't get it crispy. there's nothing worse than floury tasting calamari that's mushy. ick. cava mezze's is pretty good, some of the better that i've had i think. the best is still found over there at the capital grille. hands down. but, this shouldn't disappoint less critical eaters.

so brace yourselves, the both of you, for this one. lamb sliders. chopped grilled leg o' lamb with (not-so-greek) jalapenos, feta, arugula and yogurt. if you can take the spice you're gonna love these little darlings. just make sure you've got a grip on your glass cuz they're they're fiery little bastards. served on toasted and good but not homemade buns.

so, mezze. (meh-zay). the pleasure of savoring little plates of food with wine and drinks. according to the menu. i can't wait to go back. new hangout, no question.

heaven knows we need to consider abandoning lola's [home of what we're not-so-fondly referring to as spring break '09] where we get ruffied by the bartender.