Tuesday, June 1 at 11 AM

It's a good question, one I've been wondering myself, but no, I don't have any insight into this.

Well, a little, maybe.

I don't think it's going to affect restaurants at the highest end very much, because they're getting fish shipped in from all around the world and not relying solely or even mostly on the Gulf.

I think the thing that's going to take a big hit and soon is shrimp. Wild Gulf shrimp, you can probably forget about that for a while. It's a shame, it's excellent stuff. But a lot of restaurant shrimp, the frozen kind, comes from the Pacific Rim, so you shouldn't notice a drop-off at Thai places, Chinese restaurants, etc., or in po'boys or shrimp salads, etc. 

I think it's perfectly okay to ask for a replacement oyster, yes, absolutely.

Keep in mind, it's just the one oyster. Did you ask for another? My guess would be that the shucker wasn't paying attention when he or she sent it out.

I can tell you that I have never seen a spawning oyster, and I have never eaten one. If I encountered a spawning oyster, honestly, I'd sort of feel as though I was intruding on someone's privacy.

The differences are in style and in substance.

First, style. Northern Chinese dim sum doesn't involve carts. You order by ticking boxes on a slip of paper. (Which, actually, you also do with Southern Chinese dim sum at all other times except the weekend.)

Substance is the bigger difference. Northern Chinese dim sum is breadier. And, well — noodlier. As opposed to the steamed buns and dumplings that predominate in Southern Chinese dim sum.

A typical meal at A&J would include crullers, a bowl of noodles and a meat sauce, a sesame bread stuffed with meat (or egg; the egg sandwich for breakfast is superb, a glorious alternative to a morning McMuffin), etc. I always order some cold dishes, too, to balance the meal — garlicky pickled cucumbers, a dish of shredded chicken and cucumbers in mustard sauce, etc.

Thanks for writing in. I'm happy to help.

A good olive is a well-cared-for olive. You don't want anything soft or mushy — you want an olive that's been well-preserved. Nothing canned. Jarred is better, but even better is getting something at an olive bar at one of the better grocery stores. There's a Whole Foods that's not that far from you — on 14th and P Sts., in Logan Circle — and I would spend some time exploring the olive bar, see what appeals to you. 

The route to great olives is to take home a container of olives — whatever you like — and doctor them.

What I do is, I heat a pan of olive oil — low heat, nothing to cook, just to warm — and toss in a clove of garlic, a bay leaf, a cinnamon stick, a couple of cloves, a star anise if you have some around, maybe some fresh herbs and the zest of half an orange. When all those things release their perfume in the warmth of the oil, you're ready to put in the olives. What you want to do is, you want to infuse them with the aromatics in the pan. Twenty minutes or so should do it.

What you end up with is something markedly more flavorful than what you bought, something that really brings out the spirit of the olives.

Serve them still-warm if you can. They make for a great start to a party or dinner.

First of all, think about it this way — how many restaurants, period, are "good across the board"?

I can think of only a few that are great from start to finish, that don't have weak dishes or weak areas of their menus.

Last week, a chatter asked for a personal Top 10 and off the top of my head I typed the following list:

–A&J

–Bar Pilar

–Oohhs & Aahhs

–La Caraqueña

–2 Amys

–La Limeña

–Four Sisters

–Gom Ba Woo

–Minh's

–Taqueria La Placita  

 I think these places are pretty darn strong across the board.

I appreciate your writing in.

Let me just address some of what you bring up, because if I don't limit myself, I would be typing all afternoon.

One, I think you misunderstand the job of the reviewer, which in your mind is to bring the foodies out — or to promote the industry. Not at all. A lot of industry people seem to be of the same mind, that the reviewer is there to explain the restaurant, explain the food and drink, for the masses. To merely deliver the information.

You may think that only what takes place inside a restaurant matters, and that's a fair point, but not one I share. A restaurant exists in a cultural moment. It exists in a neighborhood. It doesn't exist in a vacuum.  

I also never said that I don't hold the key to a restaurant's success. Not exactly. I do believe that I don't hold THE key. Nor does Tom Sietsema. I also think that the culture has changed with blogs and all sorts of online outlets, and that print reviews don't hold the power they once did. At one time, yes, I think a poor review could damage a place.

But let's not be revisionist here: Inox never received poor reviews. It might not have garnered the sort of reviews its owners and chefs believe it was entitled to. But never a bad review, never a 1 1/2 star, or a 1 star or a no-star.

I also want to say here that I did not write the initial review of Inox that ran in the magazine. I was caring for my very ill father at the time, and so Ann Limpert stepped in for me. When I finally had a chance to try Inox, I had a stunningly good meal — what I would consider a 4-star experience, or very close to it. I can still remember entire dishes from that meal, and the wines that went with them.

But I recused myself from writing about that meal, because I was spotted and subsequently catered to in a way that went well beyond the norm, even for restaurants that succeed in identifying me. It was as though my tablemates and I had hired out the restaurant for the night.

A food and wine staffer went a couple of weeks later, and I eagerly awaited the verdict. Much, much closer to what Ann Limpert had experienced, which, let me add, was positive and encouraging. It's just too bad that it was not in the ballpark of what I had experienced, which was one of the great meals of the last few years.

I take no pride or joy in Inox's closing. I think the team in place there is very talented, and I hope for the sake of diners in the area that the men and women there find work — meaningful work — soon. 

What gives, is inconsistency.

And with such strong competition, we just didn't feel we could justify its place on the list right now.

It's too bad, because as you say, Delhi Club has its moments.

Well, first of all — Phillips is terrible. It's like eating a chocolate bunny that's been sitting on the shelves three weeks after Easter and wondering what all the fuss with chocolate is about.

If I were you, I'd go to Cantler's Riverside Inn, in Annapolis, and order as many hardshells as you can afford — if you don't get any enjoyment from picking and eating the sweet meat, then nothing's going to do it for you.

You could also go to Ray's the Steaks or Ray's the Classics or Ray's the Steaks at East River and order the Crab Royale and see if that does it for you. I think it's a terrific dish.

Give it a try, and see what you think. I'd love to hear back from you …

Incidentally, Ray's the Steaks at East River is putting out a really good crabcake sandwich for $9.95, and it includes two side dishes. You can't find a deal like this anywhere, including Lexington Market in Baltimore.

It's not as good as the cold-smoked and fried chicken, however, which tastes almost like barbecue, salty and sweet and smoky. Five pieces, $9.95. Including two sides.

If you go, and you should — it's a wonderful place, a wonderful blast from the past, not to mention a grand and visionary statement that carries on as if nothing special were going on — be sure to order the cobbler of the day. Last week it was a blueberry cobbler. One of the best I've ever eaten.

Well, it hasn't died down yet, and I see no evidence that it's going to taper off anytime soon.

I like the burgers at Ray's Hell Burger and also at BGR: The Burger Joint, I think they're at the top of the list locally.

I have to say, though, that other than doing my duties for work — which sometimes involve tasting but not finishing a dish — I have not eaten a burger on my own since watching the documentary "Food, Inc."

Seeing those ammonia-washed mounds of ground beef, gray and altogether unappetizing — I just can't bring myself to bite into a burger that isn't made with meat from a local farmer. I don't know how long I'm going to feel this way. Maybe forever …

I don't think you can blame the restaurant for the rogue actions of one guy — who, incidentally, should not have known which table was going to be "his." Unless a hostess happened to have said, "Sir, we're waiting for that table to leave, it should only be another few minutes." 

Now, what is it appropriate to "ask for"? It's appropriate to ask for nothing.

You had a meal, you presumably enjoyed yourself, and only at the very end, just minutes before leaving, a stranger, acting alone, asked if you would vacate your table. I just don't see what the restaurant didn't do that it should have.

I mean, the manager even called later to apologize! That's not nothing, a personal apology — and particularly when you consider that he wasn't really responsible for what happened.

Now, granted, I wasn't there, but nothing in your description indicates that the man was forceful or belligerent. And though it may not have been a pleasant moment, at least you came away from it with a great story — one you will be telling for years to come, as the memory of the food and drink fades in a matter of weeks, if it hasn't faded already.

I mean, right? Isn't a great story a great thing to have come away with? How often can you say that of your experiences in life?

What are you trying to say, that I'm an effete, elitist snob because I haven't eaten a regular hamburger in months? 

Please.

I didn't say I'm buying organic local beef at the stores, because for one, well — I never eat at home. I'm talking about restaurant burgers, okay?

And hey, you can eat whatever you want — I don't really care. I'm not the food police, and never have been. We all make our own choices. Live and let live.

I will say, though, that there are a lot of things to eat in this world besides burgers.

Why?

Dryish bone-in kabob last visit.

But I don't see that being a pattern. I still think Ravi's pretty terrific.

And no, it didn't fall out of Cheap Eats. It's right there in the mix, between Rabieng and Ray's the Classics Lounge. Take another look. 

Very weird.

I'm finding that I agree with everything you say these days.

Thanks for writing in, Clifton, and thanks for the 'cue tip, too.

I've been. Several times.

And by the way, those crowds are not just WaPo review crowds — Cheap Eats came out the same week.

But yes, things aren't quite back to where they were. As you say, frying is heavier and things are a bit greasier than they were in the past. Management is still trying to figure out how much to cook, and the pacing of the carts has been uneven. 

I have confidence that they'll right the wrongs, though, and within a couple of months most likely.

Now, to your final point. Hollywood East Cafe on the Blvd. didn't move because it was interested in becoming more profitable. It moved because it had to. Because it had no choice but to move. I don't think from what I know that their first choice was a mall.

It's not lousy. ; )

And personally, as I said, I think coming away with a great story is gift enough. Story longa, brunch brevis. 

I can't speak for other critics, but I don't order wine exclusively with my meals. Many times I simply go with a glass or two of water.

With elevated food, — not to say better food, but food that involves a lot of technique and a lot of layering of flavor — I like sparkling water. I like the bubbles, I like the bracing crispness of it.

I think sparkling water often does a pretty good job of cleansing and refreshing the palate.

I'm guessing, though, that you've never experienced the alchemical magic of oysters with a cold glass of Sancerre, or a great marbled steak and a great Cabernet, or a lobe of seared foie gras and a fine Pinot Noir, because you probably wouldn't have asked the question. If the wine is well-suited to the dish, it enhances and teases out the flavors of the food, and the food in turn makes the wine feel right and necessary.

In other words, when it works, there's more than just cleaning the slate. A lot more.

Speaking of cleaning the slate — I've got to do it now. I'm running late for lunch.

Be well, everyone, eat well and let's do it again next week at 11 …

In case you're interested, take a look at my new website, toddkliman.com, which is near complete — pop-ups coming soon! — and gives more information on my new book, The Wild Vine. There's even a book trailer, directed (wonderfully, I think) by a former student of mine, Seaton Smith.

(missing you, TEK … )

>>Submit a question in advance for next week's chat.