Shophouse Southeast Asian Kitchen

Finally, I thought, a place to get decent banh mi in the District. The Southeast Asian version of Chipotle -- how could it be bad? But it was not to be. I ordered the chicken and pork meatball banh mi, with Asian greens (thai basil, cilantro and mint) and chopped peanuts, to go. Raced back to the office clutching my paper bag. And was profoundly disappointed.

The baguette (if you can call it that) was way too bready for banh mi, overwhelming what is supposed to be a delicate balance of flavors. Ditto for the meatballs, which were overspiced for this particular dish. No way the greens and peanuts could fulfil their task of complementing the main filling, if this is what they were up against. And that spicy meatball flavor lingered way too long after the meal, if you know what I mean....

But here's the thing. Those very meatballs get high marks from others, when served in the context of the noodle bowl. Tom Sietsema likes them. The server at Shophouse likes them. And yesterday, when I saw the line for Shophouse spilling on to the sidewalk and asked a couple of people what they liked, the answer was: the pork and chicken noodle bowl.

So, I  still want to like Shophouse, and am willing to believe that other dishes will live up to their reputation. It's quite possible that the disappointment of  the banh mi -- which seems to be particularly difficult to execute properly -- is not a good reflection on the other offerings. So perhaps, sometime in the not too distant future, Antoinette Ego will write something glowing about them.

Choking it down on Lufthansa

Silly me. I thought airplane food was improving. Must have been those posts Antoinette Ego wrote about the meals on Korean Air and Tam. So thank you, Lufthansa, for bringing me back to reality. Over-peppered boiled chicken with nameless brown sauce? Now that's more like it. Limp vegetables? Yeah!

Antoinette Ego says: Forget about the food. Lufthansa was one of the only airlines to fly out of DC when everyone else shut down way before Hurricane Irene actually posed a problem. You got where you were going, didn't you? So stop whining.

Vinoteca

When your dining companion tells you that the highlight of her meal was the spiced pecans, you know that you have failed to impress. So, while Vinoteca, with its lovely decor and happening bar scene, is surely date-worthy, here are some menu items to avoid:

Duck Prosciutto was the main culprit. Readers will know that Antoinette Ego is a big fan of prosciutto, especially boar prosciutto, but duck is a different animal. Think about it for a moment. The wild boar is a lean old codger, what with all that running around foraging in the woods. Duck, on the other hand, is plump by nature, needing to be bouyant in the water. And farm raised duck, which are often force-fed (yes, with a funnel) to fatten them up for foie gras, are especially fatty. Nancy pronounced the duck prosicutto "too rich," which turned out to be a euphemism for "inedible". Whatever flavor the duck had to impart was lost in fatty tastelessness.

White wines by the glass: we sampled one from the lower end of the price spectrum (Seven Sisters Buketraube from South Africa,  $8) and one from the medium range (Louis Michel & Fils Chablis from France, $14), both of which were forgettable. You may have to splurge on the upper end ($16) to find something memorable.

The best dish was the ahi tuna appetizer. Sleek and fresh, I would say this was better than the average ahi tuna appetizer. Recommended.

I also spied some intriguing items on the menu that I would be tempted to try if I ever found myself back at Vinoteca. The cheese flights in particular. There is a "cow flight", a "sheep flight" and a "goat flight". If you can find the right wines to pair with these, you may have the makings of a good date.

Antoinette Id

Burger Bookends – a burger to die for and one to die from

Guest Post by Chris

Imagine, if you will, an Iron Chef-like bacon cheeseburger challenge. The ingredients: beef, cheese, onion, bacon, greens and tomatoes. The unknowing challengers: Bistro Bethem of Fredericksburg, VA and Cine Bistro of Richmond, VA. One is a good hour drive from my house and the other only 10 minutes. I will gladly drive the hour to have another burger at Bistro Bethem; the trip to Cine Bistro is not worth the gas.

Bethem’s creation was the most beautiful and greatest tasting burger EVER!!!! (and I’ve eaten QUITE a few). Their burger was made with Painted Hills Ranch all natural American Kobe beef, asiago, caramelized onions, bacon aioli, pea shoots, tomato and shoestring potatoes, all piled as high as a Jenga tower. The burger was thick, juicy and hot, the onions perfectly caramelized, the cheese not too soft and not too melted, the bun (aaah, the bun) toasted and branded on top with a “B”, nice touch. But what was a most wonderful surprise was the fresh crisp crunch of the pea shoots piled high on the burger complemented nicely by the crispy shoestring potatoes. YUM!



Words don’t exist to describe this burger. Which is why after pretty much every bite (with my mouth full) I mumbled “oh my god this is the best burger I’ve ever tasted”. By the fifth bite Davida said I either had to write a post about it or shut up. You can see how that ended.

Cine Bistro, a new take in the dining-while-watching-a-movie concept, is another story. I eagerly placed my order for their Double Feature Burger – Black Angus Beef, Smithfield bacon, cheddar cheese, red onions, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and special sauce. What a perfect night this was going to be – a movie, a great burger, a Red Stripe and thick cozy chairs to sink into.

Moments after our order arrived, we discovered that there is something inherently wrong with the way they run their food operation. The overcooked burger appeared to have been pre-cooked and heated up prior to being served. The special sauce was non-existent. I requested ketchup and mustard because a burger as dry as this one needed something to make it edible (and the Red Stripe alone wasn’t going to cut it). I then waited, and waited, and waited. Then I asked a different waiter. And got to wait some more. By the time the condiments finally arrived, most diners had finished their meals and my burger was cold, the bun soggy and the cheese a limp gelatinous piece of rubber. At this point not even the condiments were going to save it. It should also be noted that this burger was so bad that I don’t even remember what movie we saw that night. The burger disaster far overshadowed the film.

They were both dealt the same hands, but for a mere 3 dollars more, Bistro Bethem’s $16 burger was hands down the winner.

Overall comments about the bistros:

Bistro Bethem: Bistro Bethem has never disappointed. Their ever-changing menu is always original and when coupled with perfection of preparation and presentation, is a guaranteed palate pleaser.

Cine Bistro: I now understand why patrons must pay their tab including 17% gratuity BEFORE being served. It’s so when you realize that it’s the worst service ever you have no recourse.

Gloria Jean's Coffee -- Istanbul airport

Antoinette Ego has a lot of nice things to say about the food in Turkey, doesn't she?* Yadda, yadda, yadda. Whatever. But did you notice she didn't mention anything about the coffee? That's because the coffee in Turkey sucks!  What about Turkish coffee, you say? Surprisingly, Turkish coffee is not served that much anymore. After the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire and the loss of the Arabian countries, coffee fell from favor, and tea growing was subsidized in the Black Sea region. Today guests are more likely to be served tea than Turkish coffee. And at hotels, which feel obliged to offer coffee with breakfast, filter coffee is the norm. Bad filter coffee, that is. The very worst of the bad filter coffee can be found at airports.  Our departure from Istanbul featured a cup of Gloria Jean's coffee at Ataturk International. OMG.

Antoinette Id

* A. Ego's posts:

Istanbul Delights, with notes

Goreme for Gourmands

Mezze to Die For

Alero -- Cleveland Park

I have nothing against Alero. The Cleveland Park location has a cozy interior for warming up in winter, and a pleasant deck for slurping decent margaritas in the summer. Those features can make up for ho-hum Mexican food. But last week I ventured beyond the Mexican standards to try the ceviche (strictly speaking a Peruvian dish) and the spare rib fajitas (which turned out to be an unhappy marriage of Chinese sweet and sour flavors with Mexican style grilled onions and peppers inside a cardboard textured, too-small pancake). My wrathful eye is particularly trained on the mealy ceviche and its distasteful spices. This dish depends on its freshness and tart lime and seafood flavors, neither of which were delivered here. Not even two pitchers of margaritas on a lovely summer evening could wash away the memory of inedibility, which lingered into the next day.  The loss of Sabores from the neighborhood is felt ever more acutely.

Antoinette Id

Brasserie Beck

Three people, three dishes, three disasters.

Such was our evening at Brasserie Beck.

Here they are in order of ascending offensiveness: my dish, the "Long Island Duck Cassoulet", served on a bed of inedible, over-buttered couscous, was perhaps the least offensive. Chris, craving meat, had ordered the "Bistro Filet" with seasonal vegetables, bordelaise and bearnaise sauce, and frites. A self-described "sauce person", she no doubt ordered the dish because it came with not one but two sauces. She was disappointed though. "It tastes like mud," she said, making a face. I took a bite from her proferred fork and got a mouthful of fat and gristle.

But the dish to die from was Barri's: mussels with applewood smoked bacon and truffle cream. Barri seemed excited about these ingredients when she selected this dish, but it turned out not to be a winning combination. My taste produced a turn of the stomach as the strong scents of smoke, bacon and truffle competed with each other to overpower the molluscs, and cream heightened the richness to unacceptable levels. Barri did not look happy and I understood why.

As it turned out, the only enjoyable dish of the evening was the complimentary platter of charcuterie, which we had received at the bar while having to wait almost an hour for our (reserved) table.

For those who will be lured to Brasserie Beck by the Living Social deal that is floating around until 08/06/11, I suggest sticking to a basic mussels with white wine, garlic and parsley. I wouldn't trust the kitchen with anything innovative, but I did see happy faces enjoying this Belgian classic. And it comes with rather sexy looking frites.

Antoinette Id

Hank's: In the holding pen

How do you feel about the restaurant policy of not seating you until the full party is present? There is an elaborate discussion of that in Chowhound, which you can check out here. For me, I can see both sides of the issue, and rather than take sides, I argue that it is all about how the policy is executed.

Here are my criteria for how such a policy could work successfully:

1) Have a spacious bar or other area where people can wait for their full party to assemble
2) Be flexible: if it is early in the evening and/or there are tables available, consider seating the early arrivals.
3) A good attitude can go a long way.
4) So can really good food (maybe).

One restaurant that flunks abysmally on all these criteria is Hank's Oyster Bar. They have a tiny bar area, a completely inflexible policy, and a sucky attitude in enforcing it (hmmm...maybe inflexibility and sucky attitude go hand in hand). But it is the lack of appropriate space for incomplete parties that is the clincher for me at Hank's: if you are doomed to arrive ahead of your dining companions, and the tiny bar is full, and if it happens to be a cold winter night, precluding you from strolling around on the sidewalk -- well, then, your only alternative is to wait in Hank's Holding Pen, a tiny area between the hostess' podium and the door, which is further cordoned off from the restaurant by a thick curtain. Perhaps these indignities may be worthwhile if the food was really to die for, but frankly, after multiple visits -- and really wanting to love Hank's, after all the hype -- it's really not.

Update, September 13, 2011: Since I first posted about Hank's, the restaurant has expanded and now has a bigger bar and a lounge area. So, the problem of having a dignified place to wait for your party has been addressed. Attitude and food are about the same. And the curtain rod (though not the curtain) is still in place near where the hostess' podium used to stand (look for it on the ceiling in the front right hand side of the dining room). On the bright side, the cheese bar upstairs looks tempting, and I do think the private room is quite beautiful.

Faux Bordeaux

The first time I went to Bistrot du Coin was with a dashing Italian man that worked at the World Bank. I have no memory of what we ate, but we laughed and drank a lot, and it seemed so very European. Ever since then, that feeling of romance has been what has brought me back to the place, and when I finally started paying attention to the food, it did not matter much that the steak frites were nothing to write home about. But last week, something happened to break the Gallic spell. Celebrating a colleague's birthday, I ordered a bottle of Bordeaux Blanc. I realize that this generic name invited a bit of risk, but I was not expecting to be served something was not only nasty but that wasn't even a Bordeaux! Closer inspection revealed that it was from the Languedoc region in the south of France (not the most prestigious of wine producing regions, admits my friend H, who grew up there). Astonishingly, our waiter insisted that this was the "Bordeaux du jour", and shrugged unconcernedly when we pointed out that the regions were not interchangeable. When we refused dessert in protest, he brought us some calvados on the house, just to take the edge off. Okay, nice gesture. But still, in a place that so heavily relies on creating a French ambience, the last thing it needs to do is to serve a faux bordeaux.

Map courtesy of http://www.bonjourlafrance.com/

BY ANTOINETTE ID