Johnny’s Halfshell opened Taqueria Nacionale next door to their restaurant this week. Breakfast and lunch, and carryout only.
Today, I tried their fish tacos ($2.50), beef tacos ($2.50), and yuca fries $1.50. The tacos -which are soft tacos- were not as soft as I would have liked. They were also small, but they are relatively inexpensive. The fillings were tasty, and seemed to be made from quality ingredients. The beef taco contained small cubes of beef and the fish tacos contained pieces of fried fish, and coleslaw. The yuca fries were tasty, but they oily, and not crispy.
They do make their own horchata, but I haven’t tried it yet. I did notice a bag of chufa nuts. 🙂
Complaints: They need to work on their packaging, and I had to wait 15 minutes for my lunch order. Oh, and they sell the bottled Coke that requires a bottle opener, so if you don’t have one at work, you need to walk around with an open bottle.
I’ll give them a month or two to work things out since they are brand new, and then I’ll try it again. It does seem like a better option than a lot of the Union Station competition.
Taqueria Nacionale
444 N. Capitol Street
Washington, DC 20001

Few phrases can evoke the body into unconscious acts, rendering us less human and more automaton, operating on pure emotion. Of these phrases, most invoke love and major life announcements. “Will you marry me?” “I’m pregnant.” “All-you-can-eat Brazilian steakhouse.”
I have done my best to avoid hearing two of those phrases and the accompanying emotional response, but “All-you-can-eat Brazilian steakhouse” spoke to my soul like a classic Spenserian sonnet or a well-edited blooper compilation on YouTube. I took the Five Paragraph Bitter Food Family to Fogo de Chao recently, reveling in the poetry that only fire-grilled meat can write.
After perusing a wine list specializing in South American malbecs, diners are given a disc, one side red and the other green. If you don’t want any meat, keep the disk showing red. Flipping that disk to the green side gives the serving gauchos carte blanche to bring out scores of skewers of perfectly-charred meats to your table, and you’re free to take as much or as little as you’d like, and at your desired level of doneness. Prime rib, various types of sirloins, bacon-wrapped filets, chicken, pork ribs, lamb chops, each bite perfectly seasoned and prepared. It’s like Dr. Atkins’ dream restaurant – all meat, all the time, with none of those pesky starches to get in the way.
That disk, with the red and green, reminded me of the Omni from the early `80s TV show Voyagers – the green side was good, red was bad. All that was missing was Jon-Erik Hexum as Phineas Bogg saying “Great job, kid!” The green side meant the meat kept coming, and like a lonely man in the presence of a beautiful woman, I couldn’t say no. I started to revert to primal instincts. I couldn’t pronounce polysyllabic words. The gauchos brought out pincanha, a salt-seasoned sirloin. I ate that with glee. Bacon-wrapped chicken medallions. I pointed and grunted in approval. Alcatra, another form or sirloin? I am told by my mother than I actually drooled. Linguica, a type of sausage – by that point in the evening, things were becoming cloudy, fuzzy. I must have blacked out. I vaguely remember somebody at the table offering me a bite of cheesecake, and somebody shoving a piece delicious key lime pie in my mouth while I looked at the skewer of beef ribs like Mark Foley at a Congressional Page.
The veritable orgy of meats does not diminish the surprisingly good salad bar, featuring not only the usual lettuce and carrot mixes, but a mix of local and South American vegetables, peppers , chilies and dressings. The salad bar also has more meat, thinly sliced prosciutto and smoked salmon served cold, as though you didn’t get enough dead animal already. Once I awoke from my food coma, I found the desserts were efficient and tasty, and the coffee – usually a weak spot in many restaurants – was incredibly delicious. I can’t imagine eating there too often; it’s easily 70 dollars or more per person for dinner between drinks, the meal, dessert and DC tax, while lunch is about half that. But, somewhere in that Big Diet Book in the Sky, Dr. Atkins is looking down, smiling at Fogo de Chao.
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Fogo De Chao earned 19 out of 20 possible Whammies! One Whammy! for each type of meat served (14 that day), one Whammy! for the coffee, two Whammies! for the salad bar that didn’t suck, one Whammy! for the extensive wine list, one Whammy! for the Key Lime Pie, one Whammy! for the incredibly gracious service. One Whammy was not earned for them not allowing me to live there. I promised I’d be clean. Stupid health department.
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The Five Paragraph Bitter Food Critic has been hitting the gym almost as hard as Presidential candidates are hitting the campaign trail. The past few weeks have been spent eating healthier foods, avoiding sweets, riding my bike to work, and getting to the weight room more often than I went to the buffet. The result? As of April 23rd, I weighed less than 200 pounds for the first time since moving back to Washington in mid-2005. Heart rate’s lower, blood pressure’s good, and only 10 more pounds to go before I’m back to “normal.” I celebrated this wonderful occasion not with more sit-ups and cardio, but by eating an ungodly amount of sumptuous, decadent tortellini at La Perla, a gem nestled between Pennsylvania Avenue and the Rock Creek Parkway near Georgetown.
This was for a good reason – the fine folks of the Washington Post’s Datelab series set me up on blind date at La Perla. While I won’t spoil the surprise of the details of the date (check www.washingtonpost.com or buy the Sunday papers), I will gladly dish about the restaurant. Pictures of famous guests to the restaurant line the entrance, surrounding a formal document from Pope John Paul II. The dessert case then casts an enticing glare, chock full of pastry, tortes and cheesecakes. This sugar-laden minx rests in front of a wall of wine bottles, surrounded by flowers, Italian artifacts and plaster carvings, while a replication of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus stands guard over the dining room.
I had been warned that the portions at La Perla were generous, and that leaving hungry would not be an option. Chef and owner Vittorio Testa did not disappoint – my plate of tortellini alla panna was full of delicious meat-stuffed shells covered in a glorious marscapone cream sauce, and my fellow Datelabber’s Piatto Di Mastro Geppetto was a massive cornucopia of shellfish served over linguine. Every mussel, clam, scallop and shrimp at the Waterfront fish markets had been kidnapped and held for ransom on her plate. This dish will taste even better later this year as more fresh sea scallops are shipped down from the New England waters. Still, that tortellini was star of the show; each bite a reminder of why I love Italian cuisine. If I ever become the male Oprah, this dish gets prime billing on my “Favorite Things” list, somewhere between TiVo and world peace.
They brought out a slice of tiramisu with some limoncello liqueur for us to share. Now, the restaurant knew who we were and who we were representing, so it is possible that’s why we received special treatment. But while good service can be faked, a genuine spirit of hospitality can’t. The server, the maitre’d, bus staff, even Chef Testa himself made sure we were welcome guests, and none of that felt like it was an act to get good press (and I doubt they knew I was a humble food blogger, either).
So, La Perla has earned a future visit from me. This meal was every bit as good as my usual standard for Italian in D.C., Al Tiramisu, and though Al Tiramisu’s cozy interior could be considered more romantic, it’s a fine line between “intimate” and “cramped.” There’s something to be said for elbow room. Palena is still my favorite Italian dining experience in the city, but these are not comparable restaurants. Chef Ruta’s adventurous dishes at Palena win you over using non-traditional ingredients and inventive presentation whereas Chef Testa’s La Perla is more of a classical spot that honors traditional fare and hospitality. The city is lucky to have such quality.
La Perla
2600 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W.
Washington, DC 20037
202-333-1767.
Valet service available
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La Perla earned 6 Whammies! out of a potential 7 Whammies!, the only deduction coming from the just-ever-so-slightly too salty sea scallops, which will quickly not be an issue later in the seafood season, and that they wouldn’t let me swim in that marscapone cream sauce. Something about health code standards and sanitation. Hmph.
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Upper Crust Gourmet is a new cafe in Ballston. Upper Crust Gourmet is open for breakfast and lunch Monday through Saturday, and serves Illy Coffee with a small tasty madeleine cookie on the side. The coissants are good as well. I have not been there for lunch, so have not tried most of their sandwiches. I have tried their one breakfast sandwich, the cheddar omellete, which is served on a croissant. It would probably have been better if the cheese had not all oozed out of the sandwich, but the omelette was still enjoyable.
Upper Crust Gourmet has free wireless internet and two terminals where the internet can be accessed for free. They have a bookcase of interesting books that you can read while enjoying your cup of Illy coffee.
Upper Crust Gourmet
1000 N. Randolph Street
Arlington, VA 22201
703 243-7000

Honestly people, with the emotional outpouring caused by my negative review of Montsouris the other month, you’d think I came to your house and ate your dog. I mean, nervous encouragement is all very well when you’re trying to make yummy sounds at your five-year-old’s mud pies, but is that treatment really necessary for an upscale French bistro? Surely not; and if the phrase ‘…but they worked so hard’ was an acceptable excuse for failure, Rumsfeld might still be employed (tho I might not be).
But just to set the record straight, this weekend saw me return to the scene of the crime. I’d promised I wouldn’t, but circumstances and visiting Midwesterners prevailed. My one stipulation – insist on a seat at the cozy and elegant front instead of the rather pathetic back area when making the reservation.
It began on a low note – On arrival the front-seat promise was haughtily disavowed. Instead of walking out or, say, bursting into tears, we agreed to an awkward table wedged next to the reception desk. Really, anything is better than the back at Montsouris , even the disapproving sniffs of a maitre D.
But the tone was soon improved with witty French banter from our server, and some surprisingly tasty food. The Pate de Campagne was that charming combo of meat and pure grease that only French and Chinese food can get away with. The frites were slim and crunchy, the rib-eye thick and juicy. The Kobe beef, while not reminiscent of all that beer-fed cow can be, was acceptably flavorful. I didn’t try The pork special but I hear it was more than alright.
Am I withdrawing my previous scorn? Must I admit that Montsouris should have been given the benefit of the doubt on my first painful visit? Alas no. The proof came four hours later when all three of us who’d eaten steaks became violently ill, a rather delicate situation in a single-bathroom apartment. No meal should have to end with half your party needing to find the locker room in your building’s gym because both of your own drains are already occupied.
Too much info? It’s tough to tell after a meal like that. Perhaps it is as my critics insist, that the staff at Montsouris carefully lies in wait for my reservation before they break out the scary. But I’m really really not going back; I mean it this time. Really.

Every now and then you have one of those moments – when you realise that a lot has changed and you’ve missed some really cool developments. So it was when I left the D.C. area not too long ago and moved to San Francisco. Now that I’m back in the area, I’m continually amazed at the development that has occurred during my absence. In one particular case, I’m amazed at what they did with a particular spot in Alexandria. When I left, it was nothing more than a railroad yard and a field not too far from Del Ray. Now, there are all sorts of shops, several restaurants, and of course, condominiums. In particular, I wanted to clue people in to two restaurants, both under the aegis of the Neighbourhood Restaurant Group (the same people that run Vermilion and Tallula Restaurants), that are right across the street from each other on the corner of Slaters lane and Potomac Greens Drive.
The first restaurant is Rustico Restaurant. The vibe of this place is incredible. It’s pretty much what would happen if The Brickskeller were to mate with The French Laundry. It’s brewery style food, using gourmet ingredients, in extremely clever ways. For example, the first thing that caught my eye when I looked over the menu was a duck confit pizza. This was a pizza with duck confit (confit is a method of cooking that involves slow-cooking something in fat – in this case the duck legs are cooked overnight in duck fat), which makes anything good, duck cracklins (duck skin, diced and slow cooked to render the fat, which makes the skin cubes very crispy), arugula, and brie cheese. It was brilliant, and it was just the beginning. Equally amazing is their phenomenal beer menu. This restaurant has the best selection of Belgian and Belgian-style beers (my personal favourite) outside of the Brickskeller and RFD restaurants. They do incredible beer pairings, and they cook with the beer as well. They even have beer buckets for Belgian beers. Where else can you go where you have both St. Louis Framboise Lambic and Pabst Blue Ribbon on tap? That’s right, PBR on tap (at least it was the night I was in)! Most of the seating is first-come first-serve, but they do take reservations.
When you’re done eating and drinking at Rustico, head across the street to Buzz Bakery for some desserts and coffee. While this place is known for its cupcakes, they have all sorts of cool stuff there. From various truffles, barks, molded and filled chocolates, and pastries to more formal plated desserts (available after 6:00 PM), nothing I’ve had there has disappointed me. They even have a small smattering of savoury items (some quiches) if you’re interested in more of a brunch fare. I’ve gone down there many times on Sunday, and just hung out reading the paper, or playing some of the board games they have for general use behind the counter. Personally, I think that this bakery will eventually out-cupcake Warren Brown at that other famous place on U street. This is a great place to go for dessert and coffee, and the laid back atmosphere, coupled with the cool décor and the great food make for an awesome experience. A perfect way to cap off a good meal, or a perfect way to ramp up a lazy Sunday.
Rustico Restaurant
827 Slaters Lane
Alexandria, VA 22314
(703) 224-5051
Buzz Bakery
901 Slaters Lane
Alexandria, VA 22314
(703) 600-BUZZ (2899)

I hear that some people read important memos at work. Perhaps they write emails or talk to coworkers. Not for me, these rituals of petty productivity! When I’m at work, I research up dining guides for small towns I hope to visit soon! Obsessively and compulsively!
Last month’s excuse for unproductively was the following dining guide, complete with color coded maps and timing instructions. It was meant to represent a complete culinary tour of Frederick MD, but the individual it was created with had the gall to move to Tampa before I really had a chance to sink my teeth in (dining guide to Tampa, coming soon!). Rather than waste my many hours of chowhound research, here it is for open perusal. I created it as if coming from 495, up 270 and then over through Urbana. Yes, Obsessive and compulsive. I know.
+means an especially suggested pick
Bakeries
+ Hot Breads Bakery and Cafe – Tandoori chicken stuffed croissants – 70 Market St, Gaithersburg
+ Carriage House Bakery – Cakes – 9807 Kelly Rd, Mt. Pleasant
+ Classic bakery – Cookies, Pastries, and chocolates – 18503 North Frederick Avenue, Gaithersburg
+ Ed’s Country Bakery – Kinklings, cupcakes – 4309 Cap Stine Rd
Deliciosa Bakery – Pastries – 1507 W Patrick St
+ The Stone Hearth Bakery -Breads, scones, and finger deserts 138 East St
+ Proof Artisan Bakery & Barista – Pastry and sandwiches -12 East Patrick St
Coffee
Beans & Bagels – Coffee and breakfast – 49 E Patrick St
+ Downtime Café – Coffee and vegetarian food – 23 E Patrick St
+ Frederick Coffee Company – Original coffee drinks – 100 East St FSK Kaffe – Coffee and baked goods – 31 W Patrick St
+ The Mudd Puddle Coffee Café – Coffee and paninis – 124 South Carroll Street
The Book Center – 1305 W. 7th Street
+ Market Street Café (shown above) – Coffee, ice cream, and deserts – 14 N. Market St.
Dessert
+ Candy Kitchen – Chocolate – 52 N Market St
+ Classic Cigars and British Goodies – British groceries – 153 N Market Street+ Frederick Fudge & Ice Cream Company – Ice cream soda counter and fudge – 253 East Church Street
Alcohol
+ Tasting room – Wine – 101 North Market Street
Berrywine Plantations/Linganore
Windham Winery
+ Isabella’s Taverna & Tapas Bar – Wine and tapas – 44 N Market Street
Tarara Winery
Brewer’s Alley Restaurant & Brewery – Beer – 124 North Market Street
Casual restaurants
+ Bill Watson’s – Fried Chicken – 50 North McCain Drive
+ Lancaster Dutch market – Breakfast, bakery, cheese – 12613 Wisteria Drive Germantown
Frederick Farmers market – 797 E. Patrick Street Kountry Kitchen – Family food – 17 Water St Thurmont
+ Cafe Anglais – English food – 238 N Market St
+ Barbara Fritchie Candystick Restaurant – Diner food and deserts – 1513 West Patrick Street
Griff’s – Seafood – 43 S Market St
+ Wag’s – Burgers – 24 South Market Street
+ May’s Restaurant – Cream of crab soup and crab balls – 5640 Urbana Pike
+ Callahan’s – Crabcakes – 1808 Rosemont Ave
Luke’s Pizza Company – Pizza – 6942 Crestwood Blvd., Crestwood Plaza
Mealey’s Restaurant – Family food – 8 Main Street, New Market,
Isabella’s Taverna & Tapas Bar – Wine and tapas – 44 N Market Street
Serenity Tearoom – Formal tea 119 E Patrick St
Roys place: Sandwiches -2 East Diamond, Gaithersburg
Famous Dave’s Bar-B-Que – BBQ – 1003 W Patrick St
Market Bagel & Deli – Bagels – 36 Market St
And a couple extras thrown in for free, although they probably wouldn’t be part of any consecutively staged meal:
Destination Restaurants
The Province Restaurant
Dutch’s Daughter
+ Tasting room
+ Acacia
Tarousos
Zest
Tajitu
Markets:
Asian Super Market
La Chiquita Grocery
Common Market Food Co-op
McCutcheon Apple Products Inc

Tomorrow (March 15th) between 10am and noon, Starbucks will be giving away free 12 ounce cups of coffee. Too good to be true? Don’t believe me? Click here. 🙂
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This weekend marked the 34th anniversary of my expulsion from my mother’s womb. Friday and Saturday night were set aside for my friends; Sunday was reserved for my mom and uncle, neither one of whom can do shots like my buddy Jeff at the Science Club. My family took me to an anonymous suburban chain restaurant. No sooner did we enter when all the servers gathered together, began clapping semi-rhythmically, and sang their restaurants’ version of “Happy Birthday” to a large group gathered for a child’s birthday. I shuddered in the same way that I shuddered when I watched the movie Saw – I knew it was fake, but I was scared anyway. My uncle, never an example of tact, tells our server at the anonymous suburban chain restaurant that it was my birthday, and asked what treat I’d get. The young lady, barely college-aged, went into some script I’m sure all the servers there had to memorize, asking me “So, how old are you on your big birthday, big guy?”
Lady, I’m 34 frickin’ years old. I’ve been able to drink legally for since you were in kindergarten. My insurance rates don’t get any lower, and I’ve been able to rent a car without a parent’s signature for nearly a decade. My next “big birthday” doesn’t come for another 21 years when I’ll be able to get cheaper coffee at participating McDonald’s.
I hate that fake birthday singing in restaurants. I was in kindergarten when the old Farrell’s ice cream parlor in Tyson’s Corner had a bunch of singing servers, fireworks, a possessed player-piano and circus sound effects go all Britney Spears-crazy for kids’ birthdays. I watched a poor little 3 year-old soil her new dress in fright and embarrassment on her birthday. I felt so bad for that little girl, and while I knew nothing of post-traumatic stress syndrome at the time, I knew a girl who’d need therapy when I saw one. Therefore, on my list of Top Three Annoyances in Restaurants, it ranks up there with Nextel phones going off and screaming, sugared-out kids with no parental supervision. For the record, “food poisoning” and “bad food” would be #4 and #5, respectively. I can understand why Chuck E. Cheese does it, and talented singing is part of Mimi’s in DuPont’s charm. But when I was a server, bartender and ultimately manager, my one consistent question during job interviews was “is this a restaurant that sings for birthdays?” If so, I moved on. A free dessert or a small discount is one thing; making a public spectacle and whittling down my dignity is quite another.
Is it just me? Do people actually go to anonymous suburban chain restaurants specifically for the birthday singing? What are they thinking? “Nothing reasserts my status in the universe than having a motley group comprised of 19 year-old single moms too naive to use birth control, 21-year-old college students worried about midterms, jailbait hostesses wearing slutty dresses that’d make Lil’ Kim blush and table bussers who aren’t 100% sure of the song or the language, sing a corporate version of ‘Happy Birthday’ that really doesn’t sound like the real song and includes more hand-clapping and some sort of embedded advertisement to me in an anonymous suburban chain restaurant decorated to resemble either a yard sale gone mad or a Gulf Coast beach because I’m too lazy to actually travel to a real yard sale gone mad or a Gulf Coast beach and receiving a complimentary calorie-laden dessert?” It’s about the best I can come up with…unless these are the same people who delight in camping out for tickets for the inevitable “American Idol All-Stars” tour because they really felt their phone calls made a difference whether or not that plucky young hillbilly from Kinhump, Tennessee, with the 36D’s and the 36 IQ got propelled into the Top 8.
By appealing to her logic – spending time singing that song to me wastes valuable minutes better spent at other higher-maintenance tables and thereby increasing whatever tips the generally-weaker-tipping-Sunday afternoon crowd offers – I was able to ward off her underpaid cult of clappers. And, given the mega-portions of food the anonymous chain restaurant served, there was no need for the complimentary calorie-laden dessert. Truthfully, I think she enjoyed not singing almost as much as I did. I know it was only one restaurant on one day, a small victory, but a victory nonetheless for those of us who like to dine in relative peace and anonymity.
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Normally I assign Whammy! points in this space, but the anonymous suburban chain restaurant is exactly what it is, the food is exactly what can be found at any other anonymous suburban chain restaurant, and the food tasted exactly what you’d expect from an anonymous suburban chain restaurant. No Whammy! was earned; no Whammy! will be given.
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