Tuesday, March 24 at 11 AM

This is always good to see. Thanks for writing in.

Problems are unavoidable, but smart, considerate responses to problems are not — ultimately, you have to judge a place by how it responds when things go bad. Good for Vermilion.

I'll be interested in hearing a follow-up from the chatter last week, to see if Take Two is any different … 

Nice and special and affordable — that's a really tough order to fill in DC. A lot depends, of course, on what your idea of affordable is.

I think you're looking at places like Zaytinya, Oyamel, and Jaleo — small plates places all, with lots of atmosphere and color and excitement.

I'd urge you to make reservations well in advance, and, because it's a prom group, arranging with the restaurant to include a tip in the total. That'll easy the anxieties of the staff (who, understandably, are fearful of getting hosed by a bunch of teenagers), and go a ways toward ensuring that the prom-goers get good attention and have a good experience.

Five Guys, okay.

But Ray's is not just one of the best burgers in the area (I wrote last year that it's the best burger I've had that doesn't cost $30), it's one of the best eating experiences you can have in town at the moment.

What gives? I don't know.

I do know that we all regard the web as some kind of altar, particularly those of us in big cities, particularly those of us in the media, and there's an awful lot about it to be very uneasy about. First of all, the anonymity of so many things, some of them (unlike Burger Brackets) actually important, with actual implications. And the virulence that comes with that cloak of anonymity.

Thanks for chiming in, Dean.

If I see a no-cell policy posted in a public place, I assume that it refers to speaking on the phone, not texting on the phone. (Hospitals are different.)

I don't get why people would be put out by people texting. It's silent. It's not a disruption.

"Disturbing"? Really? Customers are "disturbed" by something they can't read or can't hear?

I'll tell you what disturbs me. Sitting next to someone in a restaurant, in close quarters (so many tables at restaurants are about three inches apart these days), and being made to feel as though we are never to make eye contact or look over, or — heavens! — strike up a conversation.

It happens a lot in this town.

To me, that's a violation of the social compact. If you want to maintain a cone of silence around you, if you want to have a sense of solitude among others — stay home. You go out to engage with the world, whatever may come.

I am disturbed by people doing business at dinner.

I am disturbed by braggarts, at restaurants where the food and drink are exceptional, talking loudly about investments and housing prices.

I am disturbed by people who bully waitstaff.

Good questions.

And I'll tell you — I've been there, myself.

The thing to do, is to get up and go see the manager and explain what's going on. What you want, is for the manager to offer to reseat you at a different table. (And, clearly, what you don't want, is for the manager to scold the table next to you with you sitting right there.)

Doing it yourself, telling them to shut the hell up — but politely! very politely! — is excruciatingly awkward. At worst, you offend the table next to you. At best, you spend the rest of your meal in a Cold War-style atmosphere of tension and anxiety. 

I'm glad to hear back from you, and I appreciate your rant, believe me.

I want to begin by saying that Zaytinya doesn't use humble ingredients — it starts with humble ideas for dishes, which is different. There's a certain lightness, at its best, to these dishes, and that comes from good raw materials and a kitchen that is more skilled, more technically adept, than what you might expect of a good homecook.

And I also don't think you should assume that your single visit is typical of the place. I don't think it is.

But as for the meat of your argument — I hear you. The great ethnic spots — Ravi, Minh's, etc. — are tremendous deals, and much more consistent. In some ways, they're more rewarding. When I'm traveling, these are the spots I seek out, because I know I'll get great value and because I can almost count that what I read in a review (even if it's an old one) will be true.

I'm not going to give you a reason not to swear off the "big-name, glitzy" restaurants, but I will say that it makes sense to me — particularly in this area — to put the mom n pops, the small independents, and the great ethnic spots in heavy rotation, to make them the foundation of your eating out. 

That's what I did, long before I was a critic. They were my core, and I supplemented those meals with visits to places I had to save up for.

I don't know if he regrets it or not — although I don't see why he would.

People can disagree. 

He's entitled to explain his policy, and I'm entitled to explain why I that policy is silly. ; )

Me, I take Five Guys over Ray's no days. None.

(Anyway, it's apples and oranges. One's fast food, and clearly intended to be. The other's Cuisine in fast food get-up.)

Who's "we," by the way?

How about coming up, instead, with a device that would allow you to call the bozo talking on the cell phone in his car, and tell him to get off the road before he kills us all?

There's no parking, none — unless you get very, very lucky. I wouldn't chance that. You just have to put the car in a garage and bite the bullet for the fifty bucks or whatever it is that the garage crooks are charging these days.

Is Babbo worth the wait? Yes, absolutely. Do it.

There's nothing like it in DC, no. Not even close. It's more imaginative than Tosca, more delicious, soulful, more atmospheric. I think it's one of the great Italian restaurants in the country.

You can ask for anything. Within reason.

Look, they don't call it the hospitality business for nothing. I think a lot of us forget this — or don't quite realize what it means.

A good restaurant wants you to leave happy. It wants you to feel comfortable with where you're sitting. It wants you to return a dish that it botched. It even wants you to return a dish that you simply did not like. You can't leave happy, if you ate something that didn't please you — even if it was only one weak or middling dish among many strong ones.

This takes speaking up, of course. Confronting things. And some of us are loath to do that.

But it has its benefits, sometimes enormous benefits.

All restaurants, good and bad both, strive to look as though they are in charge, it's part of their m.o. — but the fact is: You, the customer, are really the one in control.

I don't think any restaurant is worth a two-hour wait.

(Though, having said that, I'll admit that I'm perfectly willing to drive two hours to go to dinner.) 

What to do?

Unfortunately for you, I don't think there's anything to be done. It is what it is. Try going during the week, if you're that set on tasting the food, which can be good.

It's funny, but when you eat — I'm talking about the time of the week, here — has so much to do with how you perceive a place. In my experience, weekend dining is not nearly as rewarding as going out to eat on a Tuesday or Wednesday, when things are a lot less crowded and the kitchen is much less taxed.

A less taxed kitchen = a kitchen that can zero in on your dish and give it the attention it deserves. Timing is everything, and thirty seconds too long on the stove, or two minutes under a heat lamp, can kill what, under better circumstances, is a fantastic dish.

I've eaten in near-empty dining rooms of some of the best restaurants in the area during the week, and it's akin to having a private chef. Contrast that with a busy Friday or Saturday night, when the dining room is a crush of customers and the timing and pacing are off.

What you tend to lose in atmosphere, you make up for with generally much better food. Not everybody is so food-focused, but if you are, that's the time to go.

What a terrific itinerary! Your mother's a lucky woman.

Instead of the Eden Center, I'd recommend taking her to either the new Four Sisters or Present for great Vietnamese cooking.

The Eden Center is wonderful, but right now, the three best Vietnamese restaurants in the area (Minh's is the other) have no connection whatsoever to it

If you're dead-set on going to the Eden Center, then take her to Hai Duong, which has good bun and good spring rolls, or the venerable Huong Viet.

Also in Virginia — La Caraquena. It's simple and special, and very, very affordable. 

Good restaurants. 

Not all restaurants, and certainly not bad restaurants. But good restaurants — yes, absolutely.

They would rather you walk away happy, even if it means taking a small hit, than having you not say anything and grumble and bad-mouth them on chat boards or to friends in person.

If you walk away happy, that small hit may be wiped out on a future visit. You may become a regular. Anything's possible.

Re: wine … You have every chance to reject a wine you don't like. When a bottle is brought out, uncorked, and poured at the table, it's not all for show. It's to give you a chance to assess the wine's worth and, though it's not made explicit, make a decision.

If you don't care for it, or if it's off, that's the time to tell the wine steward or waiter or waitress and ask for something else.

I think the chatter had a valid point. Sorry.

And McDonald's and places like Minh's and Ravi are not at all comparable.

Nice! And congratulations!

How about Poste? i think it'd feel festive, and during the day I think it'd be fine to be there with a couple of small kids. 

Plus, the food's good and the space is well-suited for a celebration.

If the weather's cooperative and it's warm, there's Cafe du Parc, where you can sit outside under umbrellas and eat good French bistro cooking (fries for the kids!) and pretend you're in Paris.

See, this is one of the problems — you can't know what, exactly, someone is doing with a "phone" nowadays.

Thanks for writing in. 

Best? At what level? 

If we're talking about fine dining, I think Komi is terrific. I like a waitstaff that has enthusiasm, that has a palpable passion for the cooking and the restaurant as a whole. A staff that feels super-connected to what's going on, that can read the table, that knows how to pace things, etc.

And more — a staff that doesn't simply do things correctly, but does them with grace and kindness and makes you feel cared for.

Could be you're right.

But it's also a policy, so it doesn't much matter.

Yes, of course, that's why it's done.

But it also happens that this is your opportunity — your only opportunity — to speak up. Would a good restaurant want you to drink something that you don't like? Not a good restaurant, not a conscientious restaurant. 

If you're not being a jerk about it, if you're not trying to throw your weight around, the restaurant — if it has any smarts — ought to respond in kind.

I'm not saying it's like tasting ice cream or gelato, and that you can work your way through several bottles before you make a decision. No.

But I am saying that, at that moment, you have every right to turn down a wine that is not to your liking and ask for something else.

I have a feeling I'm going to be hearing more about this in my inbox during the week, and I'm perfectly okay with revisiting the subject — so, fire away.

Meantime, be well, eat well, and let's do it again next Tuesday at 11 …

Submit your questions to Todd's chat, next Tuesday, March 31 at 11 AM.