There are a million reviews of CityZen out there already, so I won’t be writing about how great my pork cheek salad was. Rather, I’m going to talk about what I didn’t order.
The thing that struck me is that CityZen really does an excellent job of telling a culinary story. Every course builds upon the previous one and at the end, you kind of feel like you’ve been taken to a different place and have come back. It’s trite, I know, but it’s really the only way I can explain what it’s like to eat there. And to be honest, I can’t recall ever having an experience like this eating anywhere else.
The thing they don’t tell you is that our three-course meal was actually a six-course meal because of the amusées that came before the salad: a stem of sauteed mushroom with a wild mushroom purée, followed by an olive-oil custard topped with a Spanish-spice butter sauce. During the meal, they brought a small wooden jewelry box of twelve miniature Parker House rolls that were heavily brushed with melted butter and liberally salted with fleur de sel. These were unbelievably good; once you have one, you and your dinner companion will fight over who gets to eat the rest.
After the entree and before the dessert came a small scoop of watermelon sorbet floating in a hyssop liqueur, and after the dessert came two little madeleines with a single blueberry in each, two tiny, TINY vanilla rum cakes (about the size of a Rolo each) and a plate of assorted sweets ranging from cherry jellies to chocolate truffles. Amazing.
That’s all of the stuff we DIDN’T order.
To get the obligatory information out of the way, you can either get the six-course tasting menu for $125 per person, or you can do the three-course menu, from which you pick an appetizer, entree, and dessert, for $75 per person. I had the aforementioned pork cheek salad which was grilled pork cheeks served on top of a vinagarette of parsley, coriander, and a demi glaze; it was all topped with some microgreens and wild mushrooms. For the entree, I ordered the wild king salmon which was served rare and topped with a type of green bean and morel mushrooms. Finally for dessert, I had their take on the famous Nestlé Drumstick ice cream. I know their menu changes regularly so if you don’t see something you like one day, go by the next week to see what’s up.
To sum up: transcendental food, service and atmosphere. If you can go, you have to go. Don’t even bother thinking about it. Why are you still reading and not on the phone making a reservation?
CityZen
1330 Maryland Avenue, SW
Washington, DC 20024
(202) 554 8588
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31Jul
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29Jul
So many brands of iced tea only get half of the definition correct. They might be cold as hell, but each sip is a harsh reminder that claims of “Natural flavors’ in the US can be backed up by coal tar, chicken skin, and my personal favorite, that grapefruit aroma infused from grasshopper bits.
For those of us who prefer our tea to have something to do with plant matter, stalking the local 7-11 can be a daunting and thankless process. I would like to offer the following spotters guide in the interest of tagging these rare animals for future capture and study.
Malted battery acid
This syrupy brown liquid is perpetrated in the form of Lipton, Snapple , and Nestea, brands known for the gooy chemical residue they leaves on the roof of your mouth and that toxic burn at the back of your throat. If they appear premixed at a restaurant they’re either noxiously sweet or dishwater bland when the poor server gets the syrup to water proportions confused. There is no hope for rehabilitation, shoot all species on site.
The mimic
The utter putridity of the malted battery acid variety has left the habitat open to any tea that won’t outright poison you: Arizona, Sobe, and Nantucket nectars. These drinks do a decent tea mimic and sometimes even include tea leaves as part of their manufacture.
Liquid hippie
There are many ways to get a hippie in liquid form, not the least of which is a blender. But in the last couple of years a couple of teas have taken a more domesticated approach: Honest Tea, The Republic of Tea, and Tazo. They’re real tea alright, often sugarless and always organic, as every label proclaims loudly. Drinking them will also single-handedly close the hole in the ozone layer, plant a new rainforest, and impregnate the endangered species of your choosing.
Milk tea, hold the tea
It’s the same concept that created, guacamole-flavored Doritos, pre-made Ritz cheese sandwich things, and peanut butter and jelly spread. If you’re going to be putting two ingredients together anyway, you might as well sell them as a single, low quality product. Milk and tea. In a bottle. Some places even warm it up. Then you have…warm milk and tea in a bottle. Well worth the tranquilizer dart. Try Gogono Koucha, or Kirin. Yes, Kirin.
That green honey rosewater stuff
A shy and retiring beast, the natural habitation for the green-honey-rosewater brands seems to be Thailand, Singapore, and Malaysia. But not, for some reason, Vietnam or Australia…or anywhere else in the entire world. Which is really too bad because I would happily sell both kidneys and an ear if it meant just one more sip of this sweet sweet concoction. Ito En makes good ones. -
28Jul
Today’s article for discussion:
Let them Eat Canned Tomatoes
“For the newer generation, a love for traditional fine cuisine is cast as fussy and snobbish, while spending lots of money is, curiously, considered egalitarian and wise. I object to this equation. Shopping is the province of the privileged; fine cooking is not. Indeed, great cuisine arose from privation.”
Julie Powell discusses the foods we eat, what they say about class and decency, and how that can be misread.
(Bonus mention of Brillat-Savarin!) -
27Jul
Well look at that – we got a mention in the Washingtonian Online. Man oh man, do I feel like a slacker now for being on vacation at the moment. Thanks, Washingtonian!
Congrats are also due to DCFoodies‘ excellent Jason Storch and our own new writer TCD of the DC Food Blog.
Woohoo! And such. -
27Jul
I don’t really think of myself as a fan of Mexican food. Burritos pretty much disgust me; enchiladas underwhelm me. Sure, I like a good homemade guacamole as much as the next girl, but you won’t catch me ducking into a Mexican joint when there’s Thai (or Italian, or Japanese…) to be had instead.
Then I went to Oyamel.
Now, I’m not trying to say Oyamel’s cuisine is in a different league than any other Mexican cuisine on the planet. But it is a restaurant that proves Mexican food doesn’t have to be about large globs of refried beans, or overly cheesy but ultimiamtely bland concoctions.
The Crystal City restaurant, founded by José Andrés of Zatinya, Café Atlantico and Jaleo, draws its inspiration from the small plates craze, this time in the form of antojitos. The friendly, patient and knowledgable wait staff recommends 2-3 antojitos per person. My companion and I each got two, contenting ourselves to fill up on the compilmentary chips with two types of salsa (including a creamier-than-usual salsa verde) – and saving room for dessert in the process. -
26Jul
Do you like a little dancing with your wine?
Four friends of mine and I made the trek Saturday to Boordy Vineyards, located in Hydes, Maryland, about 15 minutes from the Baltimore beltway. A place that offers tours and reasonably-priced wine year round, Boordy also stages many events throughout the year. Craving stew in the winter? Go there one evening for the nights they serve hot pots of the stuff made with Boordy wines. They have a similarly-themed fondue night as well.
But in the sweltering heat of the weekend, wintery foods weren’t on our minds. Music, dancing and drinking, though, seemed a great way to spend the night, and throughout the summer, Boordy brings out a different band for each event, with a corresponding dance class. They’ve got a zydeco group, motown singers, salsa instruction, and even an 80s night to finish off the series.
We learned the Fox Trot and danced and drank the night away to the sounds of Shades of Blue, fronted by a guy essentially doing a decent Sinatra impression. A warning – nearly every swing dancing event I’ve attended before has been very friendly to singles – there’ll either be plenty of unattached people there, eager to dance, or many opportunities to swap partners. At Boordy, this wasn’t the case – the dance floor was crowded almost exclusively with couples, and a lack of guys present meant I ended up being paired with an almost-elderly Asian woman for the entirety of the class. So if you’re into dancing, bring a date – or at least a buddy. -
22Jul
Most of us have a signature recipe. You know, that one thing we know we’re good at making, which we can bring to a party and rest assured will be gobbled up in seconds. I’m thinking of my Aunt Barb’s southwestern dip, my friend Eve’s roast beef & yorkshire pudding, my mom’s “Death By Chocolate” concoction.
I have more of a signature ingredient: bacon. My friends tease me for incorporating the heart-clogging ingredient into nearly everything I make. I’ve stated here before that I firmly believe bacon makes everything better, and I’ve yet to be proven wrong (though a friend once led me to an article mentioning the bacon martini, which could be the lone exception to the rule). One day, my all-bacon cookbook will fly off the shelves at Barnes & Noble.
The easiest (and probably most popular) bacon dish I can always throw together at the last minute is rumaki, one of the few dishes my mother passed down to me that I haven’t tinkered with aggressively. It’s ridiculously simple, and despite water chestnuts not being an ingredient the general populace is usually clamoring for, I bet 10-to-1 you’ll have party guests complaining you didn’t make enough of these one-bite treats. -
20Jul
Guest writer JEB has joined our staff to write about wine.
How many things have to happen before you’ll admit that you’re wrong? I had to admit three times that I was wrong about wine, and the admission didn’t come too easily.
I grew up in a Jewish house. My only exposure to wine for the first 19 or so years of my life was Manischewitz. With non-drinking parents, I was never taught about the “real” stuff. I came of age thinking I hated wine altogether.
I grew up a little and drank a little and tasted a little more wine and realized there was more to life than kosher blackberry wine. I came to the conclusion that there were lots and lots of good wines out there, and I liked all sorts of varietals. I just couldn’t stand chardonnay or merlot. -
19Jul
There is really very little that isn’t tasty when battered and fried in oil, and many foods are also inexplicably improved by skewering.
Sarah’s friend Yuki made a reservation for us at Kisui, which means “native,” in Hyuga, a place where my hostess has never eaten except with Yuki. We had a private room, with table and floor mats to sit on. We sat down, at place settings each set with a tray of four sauces in a row, a larger bowl of a fifth sauce, a bowl of cabbage and a cup of vegetable strips (2 daikon, 1 carrot, 1 cucumber) in water, and in the middle of the table the pot of oil began to bubble.
Yuki ordered beer for herself and me, and Sarah had orange juice (she was driving – they’re amazingly strict about that here). Yuki also brought her bottle of Shochu out of the keep (you buy a bottle of something good and the restaurant or bar keeps it, with your name literally written on the side, for you).
The food for frying arrives shortly, beginning with pre-fried asparagus shoots wrapped in bacon and squid bits. Onna stick. I loathe asparagus: see Line 1 and add bacon. I love squid anyway, this was yummy. Once we’d devoured these, the oil was at a full boil – whenever I think of hot oil, a voice in the back of my head always says “boil’em in oil!” in a pirate accent, but I have no idea why – and other battered bits of food were laid out before us. Onna stick.
There was so much and I have no idea what much of it was, but it was all really good and yes, Onna stick. We had fish (basic, relatively light, but tasty), chicken with peppers, and bacon-wrapped leeks (really delicious). There were ridiculously tender pork cutlet bits, and probably my favorite, a ham-wrapped scallop with texture like it’d been raised in a sea of butter. Onna stick. There were big, flavorful shitake mushrooms. The grand finale was a giant, scallion-covered king crab claw (one for each of us). Onna stick.
Dessert came in the form of a surprisingly refreshing banana ice cream (not at all overpowering, as banana flavor things tend to be) and a rectangle of wine-flavored gelatin. Why doesn’t Jell-O make that kind?!?! Along with two pints of beer and one lemon-enhanced serving of shochu, the bill came to about 3200 Yen a piece – not bad for so much delicious stuff! Onna stick.
(This all happened back in March, during my trip to Japan.) -
19Jul
DCFud hasn’t really been in the habit of reviewing too many super-expensive restaurants, considering the budget of its writers (and likely, the budget of its audience). But that doesn’t mean we don’t walk wistfully past such restaurants as Ceiba, Vidalia or Tosca, wishing we were wealthy executives who could afford dinner there more than once a millenium.
But two weeks each year, we get our chance. That’s when DC hosts Restaurant Week, where the area’s finest (and even some of its mediocre) restaurants get together and offer great prix fixe meals at affordable costs. For $30.05 at dinner and $20.05 at lunch, you get a three-course meal at places like Charlie Palmer Steak, Colvin Run Tavern and Zola.
The event will be held August 1-7, and reservations are already starting to fill up, so make yours ASAP if your choice is more popular. Reservations can be made through OpenTable.Com.
Some argue the crowds and often-subpar service make Restaurant Week something to avoid rather than embrace. Our staff doesn’t tend to fall into that mindset. MAW checked out Vidalia last time around and enjoyed his experience. What do you think is Restaurant Week’s best deal?
