Tuesday, March 29 2011 at 11 AM

It's an interesting question. That strip has gotten a lot more interesting in the past couple of years, and I, for one, am glad to see it, because I like the excitement of walking up and down 8th on a reasonably trafficked night. It feels like a real city street, something you can't say about a lot of streets in DC. 

Nothing has emerged, there, that I would call a killer spot, but I like Cava a lot, I enjoy Zest Bistro, Chesapeake Room has its moments and so does Belga Cafe (a place I have always wanted to like a lot more than I do). Ted's Bulletin is fun for dessert and a milkshake, but the food isn't as good as it was when it opened (and it wasn't particularly great even then, even for diner food), DC-3 is fine if you're in a hurry and want to scarf down a quick dog, but I wouldn't linger.

I've had that experience, myself, and I didn't know what to do then, either.

It was a place not unlike Maggiano's — same aim, same atmosphere — and as you correctly point out, a restaurant like that is not generally equipped to do the kind of troubleshooting that so many of us demand, or at least expect, of a high-end spot.

I think the only thing you can do is to go up to a GM and ask that you be moved to another table — and even that's not the greatest plan of action, I  realize. (Though it's preferable to complaining in front of the offending table.) On a busy Saturday night, I would guess that a GM might balk at meeting your request you even if you were to plead with him or her. And even if there should happen to be some empty tables around you.

It's a tough one.

I know Maggiano's isn't Cuisine, but it's a weekend night out at dinner in a festive place with someone you love, and a scene like that just ruins everything.

If this were my night out in Baltimore, and I were looking for a place close to the Harbor, I'd hit a spot called Bluegrass Tavern, on South Hanover St. (bluegrasstavern.com)

It's very much of the moment, culinarily speaking, but not in a way that feels self-conscious or overly trendy — housemade cocktails, a frequently changing menu of small and big plates, charcuterie, locally grown meats, and a small list of by-the-glass wine selections that reflect some thought and imagination.

Don't miss the crawfish hushpuppies, and also save room for dessert, which, when I was last in, was excellent: a simple strawberry-rhubarb pie, perfectly executed.

Part of the pleasure of dining here is the space, a restored corner store with windows that open out onto the street, a real bar up front with real people, and discrete rooms for quiet (or intimate) meals.

Shameful.

And I don't blame you.

I could go on blasting the place for not just refusing to take you when you were sweaty and hungry, but for leading you on for an entire month, or we could all enjoy this apposite little clip.

Great question. And unfortunately, i don't have a great answer. I will tell you, though, that it is exactly what I would want to know when making a reservation there — or at any other celebrated, high-end spot, for that matter.

A lot of foodies will argue that it shouldn't matter whether the chef is in the kitchen, that "chef" is not synonymous with "cook," that anyone who has attained the status of master ought to have trained his (almost always, it's a his) staff to properly execute his vision, etc.

I have had meals at Citronelle where Richard has not been there, and they have been excellent. You can eat at a Jose Andres restaurant, and it hardly matters if he is in for an hour or two or halfway around the world. But you know what? I want to see the chef there. For one thing, if it's Richard, it's a lot more fun to see him making merriment in the dining room — smashing a diner's Napoleon, for instance, or goofing with tables and taking pictures.

For another, and more profoundly — it's a little dispiriting, I think, to save up for a big night out at a restaurant helmed by a celebrated chef, and then to discover that he's not there. A restaurant isn't any old business. It's not widgets. The product, such as it is, might be refined over the course of weeks and months and years, but it's seldom perfected, in the sense of something that is the exact same thing every single time you purchase it. That's part of the excitement, I think, of dining out — the idea that you're in for a kind of live performance. A live performance, and, at the highest levels, a form of personal expression.

Without that person there — the creator, the performer — it loses a lot.

Would she settle for Swedish meatballs?

Because you can find them at W Domku, in Petworth — so far as I know, the area's only Swedish/Norwegian restaurant. A fun place, with surprisingly good food and an easygoing, likable vibe.

"Looking forward" — that's the problem phrase. You can't "look forward" to anything where Peter Chang is concerned.

You receive notice, you change your schedule around, you hop in the car and you go. Either that, or curse yourself for having waited.

I really like the place, too.

I've been a fan of the operation in Leesburg, the original, and it's nice to see that TCE can expand (there's now a location in Purcellville, too) and retain its charm, simplicity and quality.

Heads-up: They do a roast beef po' boy with debris, and though it was a little dry the last time I had it in DC, it was killer the last time I had it in Leesburg.

I love the hush puppies, the crawfish boil is excellent, and the gumbo has that authentically muddy character that's hard to find outside of Cajun-style gumbos in Louisiana.

Another plus is that the place is so reasonably priced for DC, and yet the setting and the service are comparable to a mid-level restaurant.

Thanks for writing in, SSMM …

Very few people appreciate just how hand-to-mouth most restaurant operations are — especially the independent restaurants, the restaurants without hotels or corporations backing them. Even the ones that are successful and seem to be doing big business on weekend nights, are much more fragile than diners would suspect.

I remember interviewing Robert Wiedmaier, the chef and proprietor of Marcel's, in the months immediately after 9/11, as businesses were slowly coming around after some very difficult months. Wiedmaier had only the one restaurant at the time, and it was generally regarded as one of the finest in the city. I asked him: What if there were another attack on the city? How would it affect the restaurant?

His answer surprised me. He said that he could probably survive three extremely slow months, but that if people kept away for much more than that, he would probably have to close up.

Is there a good bakery in the area? There's a terrific bakery in the area. It's called Shilla, and it's so good and so popular that I've never not had to fight to get a table. Even at 4 in the afternoon on a weekday. I love Shilla.

My favorite spot in Annandale — or Koreatown, as many locals refer to it — is Gom Ba Woo. I'd go there before I went to Honey Pig. 

It's not as sexy (it's also not as crowded), but it's a more satisfying meal. Great panchan, arguably the best seafood pancake in that neck of the woods, and I also love the grilled spicy pork belly and sollongtang, the soothing, slow-simmered beef shin soup outfitted with chewy rice cakes, ribbons of fried egg, and sliced green onions.

The best dim sum in the area at the moment can be found at Red Pearl, in Columbia. Off the menu at dinner, not off the carts.

The latter is generally disappointing. The nighttime selection, on the other hand, is stellar. Expensive ( small plates that typically sell for $3 go for $7) but stellar.

Load up on har gao, or steamed translucent shrimp dumplings; char siu bao (beautiful, golden-hued buns filled with luscious roast pork); dan dan noodles; shrimp-stuffed eggplant; and the various filled rice noodle crepes (I like shrimp) called ha na.

Tough call right now.

I love EPR — El Pollo Rico — when the chickens are fresh off the spit and cleavered right there before your eyes, but that's getting harder and harder to find now that the place has relocated and has a bigger storage oven. Some days, it's glorious. And some days, it's pretty good.

Super Chicken is much more consistent, and my recent experiences there have been terrific. 

Michel Richard.

But here's the thing — I don't think I would want a chef-cooked "last meal." I would probably want a hot pastrami sandwich or barbecue.

If you were to ask most chefs, you would find that they would say much the same thing. A simple dish, something with extra-culinary associations. A dish of deep resonance.

I'm guessing you'll want to stay close to home, close to Bethesda, since all the restaurants you mention are in striking distance–?

Definitely add Yamas Mediterranean Grill to the list. Inexpensive, and one of the most satisfying meals to be had in Bethesda right now.

And definitely add La Limeña to the list, too. Excellent Peruvian cooking, and the redo of the dining room has resulted in a more comfortable, more stylish setting, including actual plates and silverware. (More menu options, too, like a wonderful fish tiradito with aji pepper sauce, along with slightly more expensive prices.)

I might add Jackie's to the list, too, though it's more expensive than the others you listed.

I'll be interested to hear where you end up. Drop in and give us a full report when you get a chance, ok? …

… Thanks for all the great questions today, everyone. I'm off to lunch, then a dental appointment — which I will need to wipe from my consciousness with a couple glasses of wine and a good dinner. 

Oh, and before I run, I wanted to mention that I'll be in St. Louis this weekend for the annual Drink Local Wine conference, so if anyone has any great recommendations for restaurants, please drop me an email: tkliman@washingtonian.com … I'm looking for the kind of restaurants that are relatively hard to find here — non-expense-account Italian dining, for instance — as well as anything that's just simple and good and true to itself. All levels — high, low and in between … Thanks …

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

[missing you, TEK … ]