Tuesday, April 19 2011 at 11 AM

Thanks for the reports, Chev.

I'm not quite with you on Sardi's. It's a little uneven, and Super Chicken, which I prefer, isn't that far away from you, or me.

Pho VN One is a fine choice for pho, though when it's on Pho 88, just up the road in Beltsville, is terrific; last time I was there the broth was off, and I hope that's not the beginning of a trend. The broth has for years been one of the best — richest, most expressive — in the area.

Silver Diner has really improved with its new emphasis on local shopping — local eggs, some local breads, coffee from Greenberry, hormone-free, grass-fed beef, etc. Everything of late tastes fresher and much less greasy, which, for a greasy spoon, is saying something.

And Kushi remains, for me, the best spot in the area for sushi.

I haven't read it yet, but I'm looking forward to Gabrielle Hamilton's Blood, Bones and Butter, which has been getting good notices.

Hamilton is the chef at Prune, in NYC, one of my favorite spots in the city (the food, the feel, the exuberant servers), and unlike most chefs, she can write. (She did an MFA at the U of Michigan, if I'm not mistaken.)

My book, since you brought it up — ; ) — is coming out in two weeks in paperback, and I'll be doing a number of readings and signings around the area throughout the spring and summer and early fall. Including a reading at the Folger on May 20, which I can't wait for. I'm a huge fan of the Folger, and deeply honored by their choosing to showcase the book like this. I hope I'll get to meet some of you there. The event starts at 6 p.m.

You're about three minutes from me, and I would love it if there were a great banh mi spot within even twenty-five minutes of our neck o' the woods.

Would you settle for pretty good? There's Saigonese, in Wheaton — on Grandview — and there's Ba Le in Rockville. 

Like I said, pretty good; they'll take care of that craving, for sure. My favorite is Nhu Lan, in the Eden Center — it's definitely worth crossing the river for.

There are two spots that have left me underwhelmed.

One is the new Toki Underground, which is trying to recreate the energy and cultishness of David Chang's original Momofuku, in lower Manhattan. It has done a good job on that count — I like the skateboards they've got under the counters for depositing purses, I like the screaming soundtrack, I like the bustle of the place, I even like the cramped-ness. The food, though? Eh. I'll give it another shot to make more of an impression on me, but I came away from my meal thinking that Toki, like so many of its competitors on H St., is more interested in making all the right moves with its wanna-be hipster clientele, and less interested in establishing itself as a serious destination for simple, good food.

The other is Medium Rare. Love the concept — steak and fries and salad, nothing else — but the experience, at the moment, is a little too precious for something that is meant to be a simple, satisfying, no-frills meal. Too Central Michel Richard (the chef is a partner), when it ought to be more Ponderosa. I realize that it's not going to be a lingering night when the food comes out as fast as it does here and the emphasis is on turning tables, but the night I was there, a friend and I were hustled out in slightly over an hour; the waiter even brought the check with dessert, a huge no-no. And what ought to be an inexpensive meal — just under 20 bucks for meat, potatoes and greens — climbs fast when you add in the not-inexpensive wines and desserts (each $8). With a glass of wine each, and two desserts, our check came it at just under a $100 for two. 

Pleasantest surprise? Maybe Bayou Bakery. I think it's a terrific place. The sandwiches are terrific; there's an all-veg sandwich with roasted red pepper and goat cheese on a very light torpedo roll, and it's as good as the excellent muffaletta. The poached shrimp, the gumbo, the hot dog with vidalia onion relish, all really good. I love the cookies, pastries, croissants and beignets (which are always cooked in fresh oil).

I haven't been yet; officially, it just opened yesterday, and I'll be giving it some time to settle in before dining there, as I tend to do. But my read on the place is that it's a much different sort of restaurant from Maestro — simpler, less formal, and with dishes that lean more toward rusticated than refined.

One of the dishes that Trabocchi was known for at Maestro was his lobster ravioli, and that's also on the menu here. I'd think that would be a must-order. He also had a number of smoked dishes in his repertoire at Maestro, including a couple of dishes that were smoked in hay. The menu at Fiola includes a smoked gnocchi (I don't know whether it's in hay or not), and I'd certainly give that a long, hard look, too.

Trabocchi is at his best, I think, with pasta and fish. One of the best preparations of fish I've ever eaten was a filet of turbot at Maestro — succulent in the extreme, with a sweet richness of flavor that I haven't quite seen equaled since then, even at some of the best restaurants in the country.

If I'm going for the first time, I'm concentrating pasta and fish and ignoring the meats, no matter how tempting.

I'll be interested to hear how your meal turned out. Drop back on and give us a quick report, okay?

I will. Thanks for the tip. I love boudin.

Quick story. Just out of college, I went to visit a good friend who had graduated the year before and was living and writing in Baton Rouge, and the night I arrived we went from restaurant to restaurant, bar to bar, drinking Abitas, eating oysters (I think I ate around 50, all told, and big ones, too), gumbo, and lots of boudin — boudin noir, boudin blanc, alligator boudin. We went nuts on boudin.

We staggered home, ripped and silly, and before passing out composed drunken odes to Boudin. I forget whose, but one was in the style of John Donne, and the other was in the style of Amiri Baraka. I still remember an entire stanza of the Baraka one, but I can't repeat it here, unfortunately. Or maybe I should say — fortunately. Just know that I've got a huge smirk on my face right now.

I didn't say it was disappointing — I said it was underwhelming.

The second helping is nice; but my meat was underseasoned both times. And overcooked one of those times. 

I agree with you that the desserts are huge, but I didn't know that going in and my friend talked me into getting a second. I loved the ice cream sundae. It's worth the 8 bucks. I just find it funny that that's nearly half the cost of the meal itself.

A steak dinner for two for close to $100 is a pretty good value, I suppose, but I don't think, from what I've seen, that I would call it a bargain.

And yet, somehow not.

This kind of thing happens a lot with mom n pop shops and groceries. El Chaparral, the Latin meat market in Arlington, didn't answer its phone for weeks — we had decided to include it in a roundup of ethnic markets — then, suddenly, began answering its phone day.

I remember dropping by a Colombian restaurant in Germantown one afternoon, only to be met at the door by a young woman who shook her head when I asked for a table for two. "Mama's not feeling well," she said, and though the place was full of patrons, it was, for all intents and purposes, closed. "Come back tomorrow," she said, somewhat unhelpfully. 

Phillips Cafe is a branch of the highly tentacled Phillips Seafood empire. There are a number of these "fast casual" outlets in the DC area.

I ate there a couple of times years ago, but didn't realize — or remember — they offered carved turkey, ham and roast beef. Thanks for the report.

I'd take them to Cafe du Parc, for classically prepared bistro food, or Central Michel Richard, for beguiling twists on bistro and American diner staples. I think they'd probably enjoy either place, and shouldn't feel alienated by either the cooking or the setting.

If you do hit either place, drop back on and let me know how things turned out.

I think part of the problem is that DC is not, for all the great strides it's made in recent years, a food town.

What do I mean by that? I mean that this is not a city where people think to come to make a real living serving diners, as they think to do, for instance, in New York, or New Orleans, or San Francisco.

Those are all food towns, with distinct and passionate dining cultures. This is not yet — and may never be — a city where people regard food at all levels as a serious pursuit, as something that expresses the moment, as something to be hotly discussed. This is a political culture, a technological culture. More red-blooded matters, like food and art, don't quicken the pulse of a lot of people here, unfortunately.

The pool of good servers is really thin right now, and with so many places opening all the time, it's getting thinner and thinner. I hope the scene continues to grow, and I hope that people come to see the city as a place that is nurturing and sustaining for the career waiter or waitress, and a place that can support a kid in or just out of college while he goes to school or interns at an office. But I think that day is a ways off.

Great tip. Thank you.

And I love that chocolate chip cookie, too. And the Dat-O's, Bayou's (oversized) version of an oreo. And the chocolate croissants.

This is a form of masochism, right now, typing these words, since I won't be eating any bread products for the next week.

Ah, well. Soon …

I've got to run — got the rest of tonight's meal to cook. The brisket turned out fine, after all — sliced it down last night, just before going to bed; soft, tender, luscious. And my adaptation of my mom's sauce — shhh! — came out great, too.

Happy Passover, everyone …

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

[missing you, TEK; tonight, and always … ]