The Saturday nights of young (I’m still young, dammit!) single Washingtonians are generally to be reserved for carousing and other activities which do not involve one’s Medicare-aged parents. However, when an old friend of my parents’ failed to show for their dinner reservation at Cleveland Park’s Ripple, I jumped at the chance to try the local, seasonal stylings of executive chef Logan Cox, who’s been getting so much good press recently I just had to see (and taste) what all the fuss was about.

I arrived (only a few minutes late) to find my parents already seated in the long, lovely dining room, my mom very happily poring over the list of nearly 60 wines by the glass. I sat down, perused the beer list (six drafts, two large bottles that look lovely, and 17 bottles, which comprise a solid, if not inspiring, selection), and as my dad predictably ordered a scotch on the rocks, I selected the Golden Cap Saison from New Holland. My mom had a lovely prosecco. All the drinks were good, but at the end of the meal we noticed on the check that the scotch rang up $2 more than listed on the menu. The server explained that ‘on the rocks’ costs extra, because it’s a heavier pour than straight. A minor point, but it annoys me on principle.

With our drinks, we ordered marinated olives and the crispy black eyed peas. The former were very tasty, if nothing spectacular, but the latter were the first of our meal’s many delightful surprises. They were fabulous – like soy nuts, but sans powdery texture those have; they were crunchy and spicy with what I think was a combination of cumin, paprika and some nutty oil. Not greasy at all, and a great snack with my beer.

Our server was great – knowledgeable, attentive, and friendly – and happy to make recommendations (though never making it easy on us, as everything sounded so good), and other staff (including the bartender) came by now and again to make sure everything was good. Ultimately and with much input from the server, the three of us negotiated our orders so as to avoid duplication and maximize everyone getting to at least taste most of what they wanted.

I began with the composed spring vegetable salad (pictured) – lightly pickled veggies atop a bright bit of goat yogurt with cardamom just popping in at the edges of my palate, and the real highlight, that mushroom puree you see along the sides of the bowl. That stuff was fabulous, like a light pâté; I could have eaten it all day, all by itself. The heirloom tomato salad was lovely, with a very smokey charred eggplant puree lining the plate (this actually works, I was surprised to discover). The baby mixed greens salad was fine, but nothing special, and we didn’t see much in the way of the carrot and radish listed on the menu.

For our mains, my mom had a tilefish served in a lemon verbana broth which might have been the best broth I ever tasted. It tasted like the smell of seawater and fresh cut grass, and transported me instantly somewhere tropical. The fish itself looked (and she reported that it was in fact) perfectly cooked, and absolutely delicious. My mom was raving about this dish…she says she wants to figure out how and to make it every nite.

My dad ordered the roasted duck leg, which he loved. The duck was gorgeous, and again perfectly cooked, and the wax bean foam was actually bloody delicious. However, there was a lot of it, all over the plate, which lead my father to make a comment that I’d expect from a properly filthy-minded peer of mine, but from my dad was actually a bit distressing.

I had the agnolotti of summer squash with chanterelles, walnuts, and ricotta. It was, in a word, divine. In fact, I am thrilled to report that I can properly describe the flavor as in fact being unctuous, a word I love but so rarely get to use without sarcasm. So, yeah – it was unctuous, with the walnuts almost taking on a bacon-y flavor, and the salty sweet ricotta and deep earthy mushrooms dancing right along.

My only complaint on the pasta is that the serving was pretty miniscule. If this had been one of the appetizers or second course dishes, it would have been perfect; however, as a 3rd (main) course, and at $17, it was just too small. Yes, I would happily have devoured a mountainous Super-Size-Me-sized plate of the stuff, but all I wanted was more like a regular bowl full. The other 3rd courses were perfectly sized. But, I did have room for dessert!

Speaking of dessert. My mom opted for a cheese plate, consisting of 3 wonderful selections – she asked the server for chef’s choice, so I have no idea what she got – and a lively, floral muscat. My dad had the butterscotch pudding, with candied cardamom that was absolutely to die for. I have nothing more to say about it, in fact.

I had the fruit soup which was, ultimately, disappointing. The berry flavor so overwhelmed the bit of (possibly lovely) chevre in the bowl, that it ended up being a complete one-note dish. Oh well. My digestif – called ‘Root,’ as it is what root beer is apparently pretending to be – was, on the other hand, a bit of a revelation. Each sip was a bit overpoweringly root-beer-y, but for a good few minutes after, the aftertaste developed in my throat, almost like there was a sweet, licorice-y smoke coming from the back of my mouth. It also turned out to be deceptively powerful (inebriation-wise).

So, all of this is a very long way of saying: go try this place! It was seriously one of, if not the, best meals I’ve had in recent memory. Not cheap at all, mind you, which is why I only just got there (and on my parents’ generosity), but well worth it. I think, however, that appetizers at the wine bar will become a regular occurrence that I can afford. And remember to man up and drink your liquor straight up – those rocks are expensive!

Ripple
3417 Connecticut Ave NW, DC
202.244.7995

– MAW

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