Thanks Ladies: The Black Olive

Took the MsAdventures out for dinner last Sunday because...well, because they deserve it. So I'll shut up now and just show you all some of the awesome at The Black Olive. The ladies can chime in comment-style if they're so inclined.

The view out the front window. Classic Fells.

Savory Bread Pudding with Leeks, Artichokes, and Portabellas. Surprise hit of the app course. Get it.

Grilled Octopus Salad. But for a heavy hand with the salt, brilliant!

Those perfectly grilled calamari are stuffed with Greek cheese!!! I know, it's AWESOME.

Greek people know lamb. And when they cook it in parchment and serve it over couscous, it works.

I'm sorry? You're jealous of my Red Snapper fillet with roast beets? Too bad, get'cher own!

Fried dough drizzled with Greek honey and walnuts? Yes, please, I'll have that.

Three words: Baklava Ice Cream. Good lord that's a dangerous combination.

The Quiet One Works: Edgewater Restaurant

Saw the Quiet One in 'Naptown this week. She was on her way down across the South River to the Edgewater Restaurant to eat crab cakes. She called them the best crab cakes in town. I will have to investigate. And while you all know I'm not always the biggest fan of using cell phone pictures; in this case I'll put it up because it's just pretty.

See that crust on the top? See that lump crab meat? Yeah, we eat well.

Head down Route 2 (which is kinda the southern spur of I-97 after the I ends in 'Naptown!).

She was kind enough to text an offer to drop off an extra cake to me on her way back up to Bal'mer. I was lame enough to already be at home crashed out for the night.

10 Countries of Food and Drink: ONE DAY

Or, "What happens with KarlJohn and I decide we haven't seen each other in too long and drag our friends along to multiple dive restaurants and cafes."

You get the first Kitchen Geeking/97-MealsPerHour crosspost here. I can't put this on one and not the other. Too many cuisines, too much fun. Can't just be a personal thing, and the MsAdventures were close in my thoughts all day long.

But yes folks, it was an EXPLOSION of food yesterday in the land of the Kitchengeek.

I started out at about 10:30 in the morning having driven in to DC to meet KarlJohn of WeLoveDC fame at his new cafe. Proud part-owner in an independent cafe at Constitution Square in DC called Pound Coffee. Find them on the Foosebook here. Being independent means they can do things like invent their own Nutella syrup for lattes and shop for fresh ingredients to have one lunch special every day and work through thirty different ethnicities in a month. Good on them!

But we weren't in it for the District today. We headed across the river to what used to be the District until Virginia asked for it back. Arlington. Home of every hole-in-the-wall place you need (not really, but you'll get my point soon).

We were headed to El Charrito Caminante for tacos. You know, because it's what Karl and I do.

We got distracted, got ourselves seated next door at Don Arturo's Restaurant, and split a steak sandwich with fried egg and sauted peppers and onions while we were waiting for Karl's business partner Khalil. He called. He joined. He sat. He got up, said he didn't want to just sit there and watch us eat, and headed over to El Charrito.

After our hefty but thankfully split sandwich, we joined him and proceeded to order tacos, plantains, papusas...and then yucca, which Karl can't seem to avoid in his life.

Keep track now...Swiss (Nutella), Bolivian, Mexican (Tacos), Salvadoran (Papusa), and Peruvian (Yucca). We're on a roll now.

And we're chatting with Son/Owner Jose as he takes carry-out orders, rings up the throngs of customers stopping in, and checks with the kitchen on orders in process. Karl's partner was interested in how they carmelized the plantains and how they prepared their meats for tacos. Small business to small business. Great chats. We wanted Jose to bring one of the griddles he still had from his days as a Taco Truck driver to Pound to make papusas for the masses. He demurred.


You can see here why we might have wanted him to show. DAMN THAT WAS GOOD! And the cabbage slaw that came with it was just tart enough from the vinegar and still crisp to provide PERFECT salty, crunchy, vinegary balance to the chew and cheese of the griddled papusa. I want more, and I kinda want them now.

But alas, we had plans...big plans. Falafel plans. So a two block walk down Pershing to make room for the next course ensued.

After stopping in the European Grocery at the corner of Washington Boulevard and Pershing then strolling into the parking lot of a small strip mall on Pershing to see what the Guatemalen place was all about (We didn't go in. We had to leave ONE rock unturned for the next trip.); we made it to Astor Mediterranean. A spotless, open, modern-looking seating area with an order at the counter style and a family from the eastern Med (Egypt actually) making the food. Mom was in the back getting ready to make some Koshari and then a whole lamb for a party later that night. We'll get there; because we immediately left without ordering.

Falafel was the goal. After more walking. We left to go check out Raja Bazaar. Recently moved to Pershing just off 50 from Quincy. Halal meats, Indian and Persian spices abound. Butcher in the back.

Okay, enough shopping for food, we were in it to eat.

Joined by a fourth, the amazing S-H To The. Missed that girl fierce since Orlando!

And we're off.

Falafel in belly we drop all but S-H's car and head across Pershing to Gleebe to hit Ravi Kebab so Karl could get chick peas. Which he did. But there were no seats. So we left and cross the street to...the OTHER Ravi Kebab. More modern and newly constructed. More seats. More food as Khalil and I each ordered the Special Samosa. Split open and doused with chick peas, yogurt, jalapenos and tomatoes. We ATE. And Khalil wrote down the ingredients in the chick peas so he can do his version. Which I will try.

Back in the car.

Back to Astor. Koshari's ready now. Mom comes out and finds out we've gotten a plate but she didn't put it together. So she wants to put it together the way she would have. So we get another plate. Rice, lentils, chick peas, pasta. All thrown together. Tomato-based sauce to add brightness and tart, but not heat. Ubiquitous Egyptian breakfast of champions.

At this point it's about 3pm. And we're getting slightly full.

Slightly. Remember, we're professionals here!

So I have the brilliant idea to go get coffee. And it turns out the marketing guy Karl and Khalil are working with has suggested they go check out Buzz Bakery, Coffee, and Dessert Lounge to look at their design and also try their baked goods.

OKAY. I GUESS. WE CAN GET SOME CUPCAKES.

As we're walking out to the car to head over to Alexandria I just have to turn to Karl, smile, laugh and say "This is EPIC!" as we gave each other a Frat-Tastic pound with the goofball 'explosion.'

Then we get to the cupcakes. Mini cupcakes to be specific. Delicious little morsels of sweet cake with an amazing crisp top and melty-tangy butter-cream or cream cheese icing. The Buzz with the coffee icing. The Red Velvet with the cream cheese.

And then Karl goes and gets a sausage, egg, and cheese brioche. A lovely, puffy, French pastry filled with breakfast. Market research. We're calling it market research.

After Swiss, Bolivian, Mexican, El Savadoran, Lebanese (Falafel), Pakistani (Ravi), Egyptian (Koshari), and French (Brioche), Khalil had to go. He may still be in a food coma.

Karl, S-H and I were not done. Not at all. On to the Great Wall Asian UBERSUPERMEGA Mart. Size of a Super Wal-Mart. Flavor of real food. Turtles, eels, frogs. In the SEAFOOD section. Funny moment when you realize there are "Asian Foods" and and "American Foods" aisles in the store. Small restaurant/bakery too.

More funny when the lady walked up and asked me if I wanted to get new glasses in their just-opened optical shop..."These are Bulgari. I JUST BOUGHT these." So much for my high fashion moment. Came crashing down in the fresh mushrooms, bamboo, and pork buns aisle of the Great Wall.

S-H bolted up to Rockville. Karl and I continued on. To Present. Which was packed. And made us wait 20 minutes before they said they probably wouldn't be able to seat us. But Karl says the crowd is just catching up with the amazing food and I saw whole steamed fish and larb that looked rockin' and tender bits o' meat in sauces that were shimmering. So we'll try again some other day.

What to do? What to do? After standing around naming countries and cuisines for a few minutes, we stumbled upon an Afghan place that Karl actually had on his US Wishlist. Which was convenient for both of us, because it made thinking a moot point. Down VA-7 we go. South on 395. Off at Duke Street/Little River Parkway. Into the Total Wine center. Over to Maizbon. Real meal. Appetizers, salads, entres, and the severe need for gastric bypass or a restraint epidural. Neither of which is going to happen. Really. It won't.

My Aushak (steamed leek dumplings with yogurt and meat sauce over it) was good but lacked a bit. The dumplings (think ravioli) were totally limp and over cooked. Meat sauce tastied things up quite nicely. Karl's Kadu (pumpkin) was delicious, and his Keccheri Quroot (think rice porridge with yogurt, spicy red sauce and meatballs) was the hit of the night. New texture, brilliant flavors mixing around. Lamb chops on my plate were well seasoned and well grilled but cut a thin and as a result cooked well (not dried out, mind you, just not pink enough for me).

But after all that, I was DONE. After walking around the Total Wine for a bit, I hit my food wall. Karl will be back to that same shopping center soon (he was plotting routes from his place on the drive after dinner) because he noticed after dinner that three doors down from the Afghan place is an Egyptian place. And Karl loves him some Egyp.

Home Jeeves. Karl, to the car. Still parked at Astor, from SEVEN HOURS BEFORE.

Route 50 again. Stupid 395 one lane down traffic.

Last call hasn't happened yet?

Really?

I can get a pint and add Irish to the day?

Well...okay. I guess I can call it a digestif and crack double-digits on the country of origin charts today.

G'nite y'all. I'm sleeping off this food coma for at least...until Brunch on Sunday.

And for those keeping track of calories, there was a total of $120 spent today. At all locations, among all the foodsters. Mostly shared stuff all day. $50 of the total was KarlJohn and I at the Afghan place at the end of the day.











Crossposted at Kitchen Geeking.

From The Inbox: Blizzards Are Gone Update

It's been a long time folks. And that's in part because we've been buried under so much snow that stores everywhere have been low on key supplies. But have no fear, the gang still eats. And we eat well. There have been few sightings of Ms. Vertical and Pocahantski, but we'll fix that soon enough. I think there might be a trip to see why the Holly's parking lot has fewer cars than the new place toward the 50/301 split.

Pocahantski chimes in with this story on the explosion of porky goodness in the restaurant world.

Until a few years ago, fine dining meant eating high on the hog. The phrase refers, literally, to the traditionally finer cuts of meat above the belly, such as the top loin, choice ribs, and “Boston’’ roast, which is actually the shoulder.

Then things began to change. To the shock of certain patrons, parts of the pig previously regarded as unfit for hot dogs (or so we are told) started appearing at upscale eateries. Pork fat with names that needed serious rehabilitation (lard, suet, fatback) started getting bigger play from celebrity chefs. New York restaurateurs Mario Batali, Anthony Bourdain, and David Chang paraded lard on TV and in their own kitchens.

We Know Jack('s) - In Canton 'Hon (Plus Other Random Saturday Appetizers)

Watch this!!!!

No, really. Do it. It's ROLLER DERBY. And you get THREE food adventures to go along with it. Plus $3 PBR and Natty-Bohs. But only one beer per person in line (which defeated the purpose of one person going to get a round, and was THE only glitch in the Charm City Roller Girls extravaganza).



Saturday in Bal'mer with The Quiet One and the J&L Gang? Yeah, I can do that.

Wine tasting and raw oysters at Chesapeake Wine Market first? Yeah, I can do that too. Slurp, slurp peeps.

And eight whites. Sips, people, just sips. And The Quiet One, J from the J&L Gang, and I each popped 18 little sweet Chesapeake bay tasties.

I'll share with you that the second wine we had, the Cedric Buchard Pinot Noir Brut NV Infloresence (a champagne y'all), was the winner by far. Bubbles and oysters. My cup runneth over (or at least I wish it did).

Doors open at 6 for the derby and we have time to kill, so up to Canton Square we go. Mama's on the Half Shell was packed so we headed over to Helen's Garden for apps and cocktails.

If you have the chance you should do the same. Especially in the summer when the doors on the bar are open and the breeze is rolling by as you sip a Sancerre waiting for your Burger Au Poivre to arrive. Yeah, gotcha, didn't I?

And last Saturday, we got THIS:

Indeed dear readers, that is goat cheese "hugged" by prosciutto on a tasty little nub of french bread with slivered...almonds? No, that's garlic folks. Damn tasty, spicy, slivered, and sauted garlic with the rosemary and the honey/olive oil/balsamic. GO GET SOME (if you can, since it was the appetizer special, but they should just keep making more of them). The bread was chewy, the goat cheese just warmed enough to melt and held together by the barely crispy prosciutto. And then you dip that in the honey, rosemary, garlicky goodness and get to eat it? Oh my...

I don't have any pictures of dinner because a) it was a bit dark at the bistro and b) we were too interested in the delicious Claret and fantabulous food that kept coming out of the kitchen and dropping down on our table.

Turns out our server's wife just made the Roller Derby squad this year. She's still practicing and hasn't been in a bout yet, but it'll happen.

Jack's is classic bistro tucked in around the corner from the square. Guiness braised filet with cheddar/jalapeno grits. Sous vide strip and frites (and they won't let you order it any other way by medium rare, good on them). Mac n' Cheese n' Chocolate for an app. Creamy shells in a perfect cheesy/creamy sauce with a dusting of cocoa powder on top. 147-degree poached eggs with pork belly. Mmmmm.

Turned out the two tables on either side of us were post-derby folks too. We're trying to convince Jack's to have a post-game special since it's only a block from the arena. We'll keep you posted.

From the Inbox: Special Rome Edition

This is one where you get to go to Rome. Sort of. And really only if you can read AND use your imagination-machine.

The Quiet One is in Rome. And you will benefit because laughter extends life, and...well:

Dear self: In the future please remember the physical strains of walking at least 6 miles and climbing the 328 stairs to the top of St. Peters' Cupola will lose the battle (and war) to a 7:30pm espresso.

There was, sadly no picture of said cupola. Nor were there any other words or images in that message. See, I told you reading AND imagination-machine.

And brave traveler. Because if you've been to Rome you know it's either 1) get in cab and live in fear you'll be t-boned by another cab, or 2) walk and live in fear you'll be struck by a pinwheeling cab after it was t-boned by another cab. Either way you're in fear, but the gelato helps!

Ms. Quiet One also tells us of Amarone and Osso Bucco. And we drool. You will note, astute reader/looker (yeah, I called you a looker. And you deserved it SEXY!!!) that there is no marrow in that there shank bone. Yeah, it was there when the plate was put down. What? You think we don't rock the marrow in the 97-mph crew?

Fah.

Remember what I said about laughter?

All the missing bone marrow is happily in my tummy :)

Before you get too jealous about the foodie missives and food-porn thoughts of marrow, just remember that The Quiet One started her trip by providing weather reports!

There will likely be more missives from Italia. We will provide them forthwith. And you will remember of course that the connection here is that The Quiet One had to drive on I-97 to get to BWI to take her flight. Good luck to anyone trying to do that today!

Jiggling Eggs - We Are Begging You Please!

Let us tell you all a story. About eggs. And how much it PAINS us to send them back to the kitchen. Almost EVERY TIME we go to brunch.

As you will see as you read this post, the geek can cook eggs. Perfectly. And the Misadventures don't want to eat imperfectly prepared eggs.

We would like to take this Sunday morning time to remind restaurants in the Greater Universe Metro-Plex that if you are going to put eggs on your menu, and if you're open for brunch it's likely, please make sure your staff knows how to cook them. This is especially true of Eggs Benedict, Sardou, Chesapeake/Maryland, and the kitchengeek's personal favorite Corned Beef Hash with Poached Eggs.


If those suckers aren't jiggling, you overcooked them. And we don't want them.

Your hollandaise could cure disease and your hash could inspire an end to the conflict in Burma/Myanmar and we'd still send the eggs back if they don't have yolk that flows like the cheap lite beer at a suburban Applebee's on a Friday night at happy hour. We're not interested in hard-boiled eggs unless you have the best Chef's Salad in the history of mankind. And we're only interested then if we've also ordered said salad.

And evidenced by this gorgeous little shot here at the end, there are times when it comes out perfectly the first time. It is the nirvana of brunch to have hot coffee throughout a meal and to break the yolk of a poached or sunnyside up egg ever so slightly with one tine of your fork and watch the molten orange create the perfect sauce for your meal.


In our recent attempts to brunch and brunch well we have hit a few roadblocks in the egg department. We would like to profusely thank our servers for each of those meals. They understood immediately, quickly whisked away the plates, ensured coffee was full and hot for the extra wait, and also clearly made sure the eggs were taken from pan to table in the shortest possible time on the re-fire. Both were grace under pressure, at the height of the brunch rush.

So please managers, chefs, cooks, and staff of the world; please take care with your eggs. We know that servers have multiple tables and kitchens have multiple orders flying in at the same time. So if you see a jiggling poached eggs set under a heat lamp, pick it up and lovingly deposit it in front of the diner to whom it belongs. They will likely thank you. And you will have earned much food karma.