DC Food Tour 2012: A Speakeasy Easy to Love

Celery-Fennel Shrub at Columbia Room

“D.C.  It’s not that bad.”  That was my brother Paul’s proposed slogan for attracting skeptics to the District.  I’ll be the first to admit for a long time I was one such reluctant visitor, barely holding back my raised eyebrows when Paul would insist that yes, there is great food, vibrant nightlife, and culture in his adopted city.

If there was ever evidence of DC’s arrival, the ColumbiaRoom is it.  A cubby of a bar in the back of über popular watering hole The Passenger, Columbia Room is riding the national wave of interest in craft cocktails with a finesse rivaling San Francisco or the Lower East Side, minus the pretension.

Like most foodie world “secrets”, this one takes some planning- our reservations for four of the twelve coveted bar stools at Columbia were made weeks in advance. And though the eleven pm Saturday night slot we scored is not late for drinking by urban standards, the two and a half hour cocktail performance at Columbia proved a bit challenging arriving as we did on very full stomachs post-dinner. 

Kate, the lead bartender, eased us in with a modern wine cooler of sorts, allowing some room for post dinner digestion before getting on to the serious cocktails. 

Crostini with Quail Egg and Crispy Kale

Round two was a “shrub”, a classic cocktail made with vinegar in place of citrus, the more common acid, to balance a slightly sweet infusion of celery and fennel with notes of black pepper and caraway.  The vinegar was assertive and came as a bit of a shock on the palate, but after a second and third sip the flavors mellowed into what the whole group agreed was a thoroughly enjoyable, if unusual beverage.

Just as interesting as the shrub itself were the long ice cubes, a perfect rectangular block that was the exact height of the highball glass.  Where does one get an ice cube that size, I asked?  Did they have special trays?  Maybe an outsourced company that cut them with high precision equipment?  No, Kate explained, the ice cubes were made by her bearded counterparts behind the bar cut from large blocks of ice using nothing fancier than your garden-variety chain saw.

Even though the focus of Columbia Room is the drinks, they do not let patrons go hungry.  Along with the second course shrub came a simple bite of food- a crostini topped with a fried quail egg and crispy kale was a luscious fatty contrast to the sharp sweet-sour bite of the shrub.

Classic Martini

After leaving it up to Kate for course one and two, we were each allowed input into our final drink.  When it was my turn I announced, “I’m a gin drinker.  I like it sour, bitter, fruity, pretty much anyway just not too sweet.”  Kate nodded sagely and without thinking more than a few seconds mixed up a martini.  But this was not the martini we think of today, she explained, as she stirred equal parts Hendricks gin and sweet vermouth with homemade orange bitters in a cocktail shaker.  Occasionally she paused to check the temperature until the thermometer reached a perfect 32°F.  She strained the mixture into a chilled glass and slid it across the counter without any adornment.  It was light and floral, the waft of orange hitting the nose first and then fading seamlessly on the palate when mixed in with the herbal liquors, all sans the burn of your average martini. 

At least, I thought that was our last round of cocktails until one of the bearded bartenders starting working The World’s Largest Cocktail Maker into a back-and-forth frenzy hoisting up over his shoulder.  My arms quivered just watching him.

Snack menu

Kate explained he was making a Ramos Fizz for a patron at the end of the bar.  The problem, she said, was that every time someone ordered this drink the rest of the bar was so intrigued they would end up making another round for all to taste.  Now they prepare by making enough for all twelve at the bar stools plus the bartenders.  Ten minutes of vigorous shaking later, the egg white was as stiff as the top of a lemon meringue pie.  And the drink was just about as tasty.

DC might never have a nightlife as neon bright as New York, it might never be as raucous as New Orleans, but I also don’t think it will ever think as highly of itself as some of these so-called hipper cities.  As for me it is just was well, I like my martini’s straight up without the dash of pretension or spritz of condescension that come with so many artisanal cocktails these days.  At Columbia Room it is just inspired cocktails served up with an unobtrusive garnish of humility. 

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

DC Food Tour 2012: At Home with Hidden Thai

Pumpkin stewed in coconut at Thai X-ing

Hidden restaurants are all the rage right now- chefs who can’t afford to open storefronts are working out of their own homes, offering invite-only dinners with BYO policies.  But if Thai X-ing is hidden it’s because it chooses to be, not because it cannot afford a space.   It is a restaurant in a house, so covert I would have walked right by the foliage covered façade with the “X-ing” carved vertically into a single wooden beam were it not for John’s nose- he sniffed out our destination several houses before arriving at the discreet front door.

This was Paul and Lisa’s second time eating at Thai X-ing and our first.  The Sunday night vegetarian dinners had first attracted my brother and his meat-free girlfriend.  Learning that the omnivore set menu Monday through Saturday could be adjusted to accommodate vegetarians in a group, Thai X-ing earned its spot as our second destination on DC Food Tour 2012. 

Cucumber soup with sausage stuffing

Papaya salad, Stir fried beef with mint

After walking into the cramped ground floor dining room where neighbors rubbed elbows while jostling to pass plates around the table, we were quickly ushered out and up the wooden stairs to a far more spacious and airy second floor dining room.  The place of honor, a low table with seats ranging from plush footstools to a wooden bench, was waiting for us along with a superb view of street nightlife through the bay window.

Water glasses and utensils were placed in a pile in the table and along with cheap wine glasses at our request.  Knowing the restaurant is BYO, we pulled out several bottles of wine we had brought along.  (Note: some minor moments of amusement were gleaned from this policy.  As we sipped on white Burgundy and French malbec, we tried hard not to stare as our nearest neighbors took a bottle of Yellow Tail Chardonnay very seriously.)

Flounder with lemongrass and basil

When the food started coming it didn’t stop.  First a bowl of cucumber soup we almost dismissed as a pleasant, anodyne starter until an excavation of the large hunk of floating vegetable revealed a meat-filled center.  A plate of green papaya salad was refreshing for a muggy DC night but not as spicy as I would have liked.  Minutes later the heat problem was resolved with a mouth-numbing dish of stir fried beef with a minty zip and chili kick.

About that point we realized that though we had alerted the staff to the vegetarian in our midst, each of the plates brought out at up till then came with some sort of fish or animal product.  This was resolved quickly, not by reducing our portion size on the meat dishes or exchanging one fish dish for a vegetable one, but simply by bringing more food. 

Mango with sticky rice

There were meaty pork knuckles in an aromatic paste of kaffir lime. Flounder steamed in banana leaves was fragrant from a cavity stuffed with lemongrass but was otherwise plain until dipped into the accompanying pungent chili sauce.  For the vegetarian there were wide flat noodles with tofu and large chunks of pumpkin braised in coconut milk.   

Crying mercy, the stealthy staff whisked away the remains of our dinner plates and in their place left one dish of ripe mango and sticky rice.  It was a simple, sweet ending to the sort of basic yet abundant, home-style Thai food I wish I could eat more of outside of Thailand.

As we walked back out into the District night, I leaned a bit harder on John than usual, so full was my belly.  With dish after dish of delicious food placed in front of us I had failed to show restraint.  A mistake, perhaps, because the night was still young: a late night reservation at the Columbia Room and nearly three hours of handcrafted cocktails were still to come. 

Stay Tuned!  DC Food Tour continues with a visit to DC speakeasy, The Columbia Room.

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

DC Food Tour 2012: Ramen Goes Tawainese

Me. Happy. Full of ramen.

 About once a year my brother beckons me to Washington DC intent to prove the nation’s capital is not just a sea of drab gray suits with law degrees, but a vibrant city full of gustatory pleasures just waiting to be discovered.  After about eight years of these trips, by plane, train, and automobile, I am finally starting to doubt less.  After all, he’s made his point time and again. 

This past weekend John and I met up with my brother, Paul, and his girlfriend Lisa to see what had been happening in DC since our last visit.  Our culinary tour spanned the distance from new and delicious, to old but yet to be discovered.  We started the weekend with Taiwanese ramen.  Stay tuned for full coverage over the days to come.

Toki Underground

Street view from my stool.

I was pretty sure between New York and Los Angeles I had covered the best ramen joints this side of the Pacific.  Toki Underground proved me wrong.  A seat at one of the counter stools that line the walls of this small upstairs dining room is a hot ticket in the District.  Waits easily run an hour or longer even late into the night.  When we finally settled into our chairs around eleven pm. on a Friday, the kitchen was still running at full steam. 

Plump dumplings stuffed with pork and chicken, or shredded vegetables arrived first in individual steamer baskets.  Because we could, an order of the pan-fried pork dumpling appeared as well, crisp and golden but not too greasy, a good foil for the Koshihikari Echigo Japanese rice lager John and I split to start.

Dining room, still busy at midnight.

Of course the reason to eat at Toki is the ramen.  The restaurant bills its ramen as “Taiwanese” (this is not to be confused with “Taiwan ramen”, a Chinese-Japanese hybrid native to Nagoya Japan), tonkotsu ramen modeled on what Chef Yang used to cook at Hakata Ramen in Taipei.  In the Kimchi Hakata, pork-based broth bathed a tangle of thin, toothsome noodles.  Homemade kimchi was briny and crisp though not especially spicy. However when combined with a roll of steamed seasonal greens, the vegetables cut strokes of brightness through the rich broth, a pleasant balance of flavors for what is normally a weighty dish.

Kimchi Hakata ramen at Toki Underground

For my taste, the broth could have used a bit more depth and the kimchi much more spice.  But for $1.50 I remedied that problem with a small saucer of “Endorphin Sauce”, Toki’s excellent homemade sriracha.

Noodles devoured, broth slurped, I waved my white paper napkin in defeat. Raising a glass of dry Hakushika Kuromatsu Chokara sake, John and I toasted Paul’s first food stop of the weekend.  DC Food Tour 2012 was off to an excellent start.

Stay tuned!  Next up our food foursome needs expandable pants for a visit to Thai X-ing, a barely marked home converted into family style, BYO, Thai food destination.

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

Hidden Soho: 3 Retreats from the Maddening Crowd

This is the time of year when those of us who live in New York begin to avoid Soho like the plague.  If the throngs of tourists are bad September to April, they are doubly so once warm weather hits in May.  But sometimes, even the most jaded of us residents need to head down that direction to load up on hiking gear at the new REI, stock up on basics from Japanese transplant Uniqlo, or, if we are feeling ambitious, browse the boutiques on the outskirts of the neighborhood looking for unique summer dresses.

Shopping always works up my appetite and hoards of tourists work up my irritation.  To unwind and recharge I’ve filed away a few hidden spots outside of the Soho norm to take a break, relax, and recharge before heading back out to the mean city streets.

Ceci-Cela: Located adjacent to one of the busiest intersections in the neighborhood, it might be hard to fathom this little café as a peaceful retreat.  Perhaps it is that from the front, Ceci-Cela appears to be nothing more than a bakery serving cappuccinos to go.  But make your way past the glass case filled with football-sized croissants and pain au raisin, and you find a small back room set up with a half dozen tables.  Not a place to spend an entire afternoon but Ceci-Cela is great for a morning coffee break or afternoon tea before heading back out into the maddening crowd.

Sunrise Mart:  You are probably wondering why a Japanese food store made the list.  What can I say, I find a certain zen wandering through neatly stacked rows of nori and soba noodles. As for food, this is no ordinary market.  Sushi, curry, and noodles are made to order.  If you are in a rush, bento boxes prepared the same day are stacked in the open cooler.  Grab a $2 Ito-En iced tea from the cooler, pull up a seat at one of the wooden tables at the front of the store, and you have excellent lunch plus great people watching on par with the fancy restaurants around the corner, minus the long wait.

Despaña:  Just to the east of Sunshine a few blocks is another market-meets-café, this time of the Spanish variety. Crossing the threshold of Despaña I feel my angst fade away followed by the recognizable grumbling in my belly.  The cheese!  Mahon and garrotxa call to me.  The meat!  Dark red chorizo and glistening pink Iberico jamon bekon. But those are for later.  My tired body needs food stat and Despana delivers.  A case of bite-sized pinxtos tempts with skewered stacks of peppers and cured anchovies on rounds of bread.  But for those days where blood sugar levels hover precipitously low, I go right for one of the large bocadillos.  On a recent weekday I settled into a stool at a communal table methodically munched on the El Quijote- a sandwich layered with dried cured pork loin, manchego cheese, quince paste, and drizzled with olive oil.  Washed down with a sweet and sour Spanish lemon soda, I was once again ready to face the crowds.  

Ceci-Cela: 55 Spring St., New York, NY

Sunrise Mart: 494 Broome St., New York, NY

Despaña: 405 Broome St., New York, NY

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

Cookbook Obsession: “Secrets of the Red Lantern”

Southern Vietnamese Fish Cakes

 About once a year a cookbook comes my way that for a period is the object of my culinary obsession.  The latest, “Secrets of the Red Lantern”, arrived a few weeks back via Amazon, a gift from a friend halfway around the world. 

For a cookbook to captivate me, it must add something novel to my kitchen repertoire.  And no, I’m not talking about “50 Ways with Mac N Cheese”, or “Halfway Homemade with Packaged Foods”.  A good cookbook will teach me.  It might teach me technique, as in the case of Jennifer McLagan’s book “Bones” which continues to provide everything I might want to know about cooking meat on the bone.  Or, more often these days, the book goes deep into a particular cuisine of which I have only some familiarity but a lot of curiosity. 

“Secrets of the Red Lantern” is a bit of a hybrid book.  Two parts family history, one part recipes, it is Pauline Nguyen’s story of her family’s flight from Vietnam and settlement in Australia told in words, pictures, and food. 

Tom Rim- Shrimp in Tomato Sauce

This is not the sort of book you take down all in one sitting.  But it is beautiful enough to take a place on the coffee table allowing me to dip in a dip out to read tales of Pauline and her brother Luke’s childhood, drool over the beautiful pictures of some of the favorite family dishes, and dream up which recipe I wish to try out next.

Favorites so far have included Luke’s recreation of one of his mom’s signature dishes at his parents’ restaurant opened when they resettled in Australia.  Tôm Rim, shrimp sautéed with tomato, fish sauce, and black pepper, was assembled with ingredients I can find these days at any American supermarket- tomato paste, shrimp, fish sauce, cilantro.  But the wide range and nuance of flavors from sweet to spicy to tart to bitter, were pure Vietnam.

These days Pauline along with Luke and Mark Jensen, her partner in life and love, make up the team behind the popular Sydney restaurant Red Lantern.  In addition to sharing family recipes these three also manage to break down some better-known Vietnamese dishes into step-by-step instructions simple enough to replicate at home.  Fish cakes, one of my favorite Vietnamese appetizers, appear shockingly easy in this book.  Even though the recipe can be done entirely in the food processor, I took the chef’s recommendation to work the fish sauce into the paste of mackerel, garlic, and green onion by hand.  The work was tough but satisfying.  I could see and feel the texture change to the non-sticky consistency described in the book that signals it is ready to form into cakes and fry. 

Pauline writes in reference to the name of their restaurant, “To raise a red lantern outside your home is a symbol of honoring good company.”  I don’t know when I will have the pleasure of visiting Sydney, but until I do “Secrets of the Red Lantern” is poised to keep me excellent company in the kitchen for sometime to come.

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

When a Sticky Bun Meets Pork

Pork Sticky Roll, Northern Spy Food Co.

How could you possibly make a sticky roll better than it already it is, you ask?  How about filling it with pork?

At least, that is what the good people at Northern Spy Food Co. in New York City are doing.  And damn is it a fine improvement to an already scrumptious food. 

Listed under the “snack” section of the dinner menu, the sticky pork roll resembles its breakfast cousin only superficially.  Just looking at the spiraled roll with creamy glaze it would be hard to distinguish from the cinnamon filled sugar topped pastry found in the glass case of just about every coffee shop. 

But take one bite of this sinful, savory pastry and expectations give way to surprise then delight, as the full flavor profile unfolds.

First, there is no cinnamon, and any perceptible sweetness appears to come solely from the grass fed pork morsels tucked away in the folds of the soft roll.  As for that glaze, far from molten powdered sugar, the topping on the pork sticky roll is made of locally sourced parsnips pureed then hit with a good mustardy kick.

The look of this dinner roll is all whimsy but the taste- soft roll, luscious pork, sweet and spicy sauce- is pure classic flavor combo. 

As for the pork sticky roll’s place on the dinner menu, if I were to show up at my local coffee shop one morning to find Northern Spy’s pork roll in the glass case next to the typical sweet version, I know which one I’m buying.    

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell

Movie and a Dinner: Jiro and Sushi Azabu

Nigiri at Sushi Azabu

Last weekend I went with John to see “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” expecting an hour and a half of food porn.  We were not disappointed.  In shot after shot delicate slices of toro and kampachi dripped on mounds of perfectly molded rice, soy sauce lightly washed over with the stroke of a brush. 

But this story of a man, possibly the most famous sushi chef in Japan (and the only sushi chef with three Michelin stars) is much more than sushi porn.

It is the human story of a man who humbly strives for perfection in this one task. From Jiro to his sons to the man who sources tuna, a few common themes emerged.

1.     Absolute dedication to craft.  There are several beautiful shots of Jiro’s oldest son sitting outside the dining room in the morning waving sheets of nori over smoking kindling.  The work appears dull and monotonous but he approaches it in the methodical, committed fashion that he will later use to mold rice and slice fish.  In Jiro’s world, even the mundane task of toasting nori requires complete devotion.

2.     Filial responsibility.  Much is made in the story of how the younger of the two sons left Jiro’s several years ago to start his own restaurant knowing in Japan that his older brother would be heir to Jiro’s place.  Much is made of watching the older son now in his mid-fifties still working side by side in obedience to his father, never knowing when his time will come.

3.     Loyalty reigns.  All the suppliers interviewed for the movie make the point they feel honored Jiro chooses to buy from them.  The rice supplier is in return so loyal that he refuses to sell the rice he gives Jiro to anyone else, even when one of the top hotels in Tokyo comes asking.

4.     One can always do better. This was actually a motto of my grandmother’s when I was growing up.  Jiro embodies this ethos.  Even at 85 he still comes to work everyday constantly trying to improve on his life’s work, certain that each day he can make sushi just a little bit better than he did the day before.

Dining Room at Sushi Azabu

Later that week John and I dipped into Tokyo-style restaurant Sushi Azabu tucked away in the basement of Greenwich Grill in Tribeca.  This is no California roll sushi joint. Instead this diminutive den focuses on simple pieces of fish on rice, a few rolls, and a handful of Japanese small plates. 

Memories of Jiro fresh in our minds we went for nigiri- fish on rice plain and simple.  From the mackerel to the tuna, amberjack to salmon, each piece was exquisite.  Even before the fish arrived we marveled at the delicate chopsticks and the mesmerizing colors of the hand-blown glass sake carafe.  Both, we were told, were specially selected and imported from Kyoto craftsmen, an attention to detail and authenticity of which I think even Jiro would approve.

After the movie John commented that “Jiro” should be required viewing for anyone who wants to understand business in Japan.  I would add that “Jiro” should be required viewing for anyone who wants to know what it takes to become a true master at a craft- some talent is important, yes, but more than that it is the dogged determination to be better at what you do every day.  To know, as Jiro does, that even when you have already surpassed the competition, the task is never truly complete.

Amy Powell is a food and travel writer based in New York City. She is a graduate of Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration and the French Culinary Institute. Follow her on Twitter @amymariepowell