By Warren Rojas / Photography by Kate Bohler

Pork chops and eggs with onion-topped hash browns

By all indications the smoking ban Virginia Governor Tim Kaine signed into law in 2009 has done nothing to extinguish the appetite for smoldering tobacco shared by those who religiously inhabit Moe’s Peyton Place.

The unapologetically smoking-friendly sanctum caters to those who favor a puff (or 20) as part of their dining experience, relegating the protected class (non-smokers) to an adjoining dining room while preserving the authenticity of the cloudy bar and lounge for those who have made the neighborhood restaurant their second home since current owner Mohammad Traish took it over in May 1971.

It’s unclear who/when someone slapped the American Cancer Society “Relay for Life” supporter static cling in their front window, but kudos to staff for successfully playing both sides of the field this long.

If you’ve never stepped foot in Moe’s, it’s perfectly understandable. The off-the-beaten path eatery operates in the shadow of the never-ending Mixing Bowl expansion, its pot hole-riddled parking lot an orphan of the regional roadway repair wars.

Geographic hurdles aside, Traish’s wife and business partner, Mina, claims there are a number of dedicated patrons who slide into the well-worn booths like clockwork.

Chicken-fried steak

“We have the same customers come in seven days a week,” she says of a carefully cultivated clientele that is now extending into the third generation of some families. “We have their drinks at the table when they walk in, and we know what they like,” she asserts. On any given day, Mohammad estimates he can count on recognizing roughly eight familiar faces for every 10 people that wander into the unassuming watering hole.

The décor is clearly nostalgic but hardly entrenched in days gone by. A dusty Redskins clock, gallery of framed Marilyn Monroe stills and a wall-sized flag inscribed with the names of the thousands who perished in the 9/11 attacks commemorate historical greatness which we’ll unlikely never relive again (sorry ‘Skins, fans), while a trio of high-definition, flatscreen TVs intermittently blasting local news or conservative commentators remind those seemingly wedded to the rarely vacant bar stools that the future is now.

House-made signs advertising their biker friendliness—Mina brushes aside all the stereotypes of thuggish, brute motorcyclists, noting that they serve doctors and lawyers who simply prefer to view the world from their two-wheeled, four-stroke engine-powered perches rather than from other self-enclosed, commercial conveyances—are littered throughout. And it, in fact, takes no time for a dyed-in-the-wool biker (clad from head to toe in faded denim, a well-broken-in leather baseball cap parked atop his dome) to saunter past us as we settled in for a mid-day repast.

Mohammad Traish’s signature broasted chicken

But we also spotted all types of other incredibly neighborly folks, including: a Boomer-aged single woman who popped by for a late-morning breakfast; the suit-clad business exec who drained multiple cups of bottomless coffee, one eye trained firmly on the daily schedule taking shape on his flickering laptop while the other stole glances at the constantly updating breaking news ticker crawling across the Fox News broadcast; or the elderly couple who planted themselves in what they obviously consider their booth, tossed dueling packs of Basics and Salems on the table and commenced to chain-smoke (these two were intuitively synchronized better than most Olympic duos) their way through dinner. Conversely, early risers made no bones about chasing formidable stacks of flapjacks or bowls of butter-soaked grits with frosty mugs of frothy draft beer.

Staff makes their own fun as well.

“Too much to eat? I just gave you a little plate,” one devilish waitress teased a customer who attempted to push back before clearing her plate. Another razzed a gaggle of bleary-eyed outdoorsmen, barking, “We’re closed for you guys—no hunters allowed!” when the coffee-deprived bunch tried to belly up to the bar. More often than not staff greet every single customer by name, preemptively fetching favorite drinks and teeing up standing food orders while peppering their conversation with miscellaneous updates about fellow regulars who’ve dropped out of sight (“Oh, he moved back to … ”) and general goings-on.

The menu is a grab bag of diner favorites, floating from traditional bar bites (burgers, wings, fried flotsam) to a rotating selection of slightly more elegant fare (grilled salmon, chicken Marsala, baked ziti with meatballs). Traish may claim sole proprietorship for the menu development, but the shelves buckling beneath piles of pre-packaged cooking aids—everything from pre-mixed Gold Medal flour to an industrial-sized crate of Stove Top stuffing mix—suggest Sysco has as much a hand in the daily breaking of bread as anyone else.

Mina says she retooled the menu about six months ago but continues to sprinkle daily specials and experimental theme nights as opportunities present themselves. Her monthly “Greek” night, which actually extends through the entire first weekend of each month, allows Mina to celebrate her culinary heritage, a showcase predicated upon flaky spanakopita, zesty tzatziki sauce, protein-packed stuffed grape leaves and generous slabs of oven-baked pastitsio. She conceded that Mohammad’s signature broasted chicken, however, remains the universal favorite.

The bird—which Mina maintains is gobbled up with reckless abandon by rowdy, tail-gating football fans and reserved restaurant-goers alike—is quite tasty. The skin is, by design, less crunchy than traditional fried chicken. But the marinated meat, particularly the succulent breast, makes a convincing argument for pressure cooking more foods. The house seasoning is perhaps less novel than more modern poultry preparations (artisan brining, double- and triple-frying, truffle oiling/stuffing/infusing) yet firmly places its stamp on the chicken enjoying experience. Traish even rewards those who seek out the fabled fowl by offering up all-you-can-eat broasted chicken on Monday nights at the unbelievably price of just $7.50 per person (about as much as one might shell out for a skimpy three-piece meal at one of the commercial chicken chains).

Breakfast offerings are available at any time. Our favorite eye-opener: the country-fried steak and eggs. The battered and breaded beef is so tender, it’s easily cut with the side of the fork. Of course, you still have to find the steak beneath the pool of thick, rich country gravy liberally poured onto the plate by what we safely assume to be a non-calorie counter.

An eponymous burger returns a smallish patty crowned with juicy tomatoes, zesty onions, melted American cheese, mayo, lettuce, ho-hum bacon (neither exceptionally crispy, smoky or fatty; just average bacon) and a glorious fried egg. The toppings trumped the generic beef. Still, it was refreshing to find a reasonably priced burger devoid of the pretension exhibited by the rising tide of would-be gourmet burgermeisters determined to flood the market with trendy takes on true comfort food.

—–

Moe’s Peyton Place
6516 Backlick Road, Springfield; 703-451-6620; www.moespeytonplace.com

Hours: Open for lunch and dinner daily.
Prices: Average entree: under $12 ($). Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner daily.

(January 2012)

By Warren Rojas / Photography by Kate Bohler

Open-faced pork tapenade hummus sandwich

The world of high-end dining is currently enthralled by all things molecular gastronomy—a 25-cent word for the practice of, well, what most call cooking.

We’re more fascinated by the fact that a former biochemist is now preparing crepes and slow-roasting pork alongside her brother, a self-trained butcher, way in the back of a sleepy Winchester shopping plaza.

Sibling chefs Sandy Gallaher and Jim Parks don’t necessarily view themselves as epicurean trailblazers. But by virtue of following their career-changing dreams and founding the cooperatively run Butcher Station in May 2011, the duo have genuinely altered the ingredient gathering and casual dining landscape within their local foodshed.

“Our prices do not compete with Costco or Martin’s! Their products do not compete with ours!” the pair proclaim on the blackboard laundry listing their current slate of custom-trimmed meats, seafood and poultry.

Swiss chard bacon wrap

The butcher’s case, which remains the purview of seasoned hospitality vet Parks, displays a cavalcade of carnivorous splendors, including: house-made Italian and breakfast sausage, chorizo, pork belly, top sirloin, tri-tip, ground sirloin, Kunzler bacon, corvina, wild sockeye salmon and other seasonal scores. The pair pride themselves on buying local, turning to neighboring (White Hall) Angus beef baron Carl DeHaven for the majority of their meats, Briar’s Farmstead (Boyce) for their poultry, High View Farm (Berryville) for farm-fresh eggs, Trickling Springs Creamery (Pennsylvania) for dairy and United Shellfish (Maryland) for seafood.

“We live in a fantastic area and believe in taking advantage of it,” Parks says of their abiding commitment to locavorism.

The deli case is equally inviting, showcasing a treasure trove of ready-made sides and spices ranging from pantry staples like fresh lard and house-brined bread and butter pickles to exotic extras like hickory smoked sea salt and fresh green lentils.

Parks listed their dry-aged ground beef, hand-carved rib eyes and porterhouse steaks, and bottles of fresh Trickling Springs milk as perennial top sellers, though their house-smoked sausage is quickly becoming the stuff of legend. “Andouille sells almost as soon as it is done smoking if not before,” he warns of the highly prized pork product.

In terms of custom orders, Parks recalls being prodded to track down fresh moose meat. Gallagher, meanwhile, says they’ve experienced some ups and downs with fresh veal (languished after a swell of pre-orders, then flew off the shelves when bundled into a meatloaf mix).

Calamari salad

Of course, they can be forgiven a few missteps considering this entire process only really began taking shape back in 2009.

At the time, Parks was rounding out his second decade of bouncing around the restaurant scene, a career track that began with his flipping burgers on the Rehoboth boardwalk. But what started out as just another job eventually blossomed into an insatiable desire to master every facet of meal assembly.

“I collected and read any manner of cookbook I could find and tried every new style, region and tactic I was exposed to. I worked as the pantry chef, line cook and sous chef of some of my area’s finest restaurants. Trial after trial, I would try to duplicate the masters,” he says of his all-consuming quest.

Gallagher, likewise, began doing some soul-searching of her own following the birth of her first child in 2004. A return to the field of medical research became untenable. Instead, Gallagher elected to pursue an entirely new path: personal cheffing. “Having been a commuter who often wanted great fresh food, but was just exhausted when I arrived home, I decided to combine my desire to care for people and my passion for food into a new career,” she shares.

The nascent entrepreneurs eventually decided to join forces, and have subsequently built a loyal following among those who prize having a connection to their food above loyalty discounts or bulk shopping rates.

The shop is as modest as they come, boasting approximately a half-dozen tables, log-wrapped walls (very hunting lodge) and a sole, neatly tended book shelf stocked with back issues of Saveur, Gourmet and Fine Cooking, as well as copies of “Jamie’s Food Revolution” (progressive) and “The Southern Junior League Cookbook” (retro).

The carte, which Parks largely designs but Gallagher customarily executes, focuses on gourmet sandwiches, wraps and crepes plus a smattering of heartier offerings (pulled-pork barbecue, half-pound burgers).

House-made chili summons an OK brew of ground beef, kidney beans and saucy tomatoes. A side of spot-fried tortilla chips was toasty warm; though, we would have preferred to have had the crunchy complement shredded and incorporated into the chili.

The simple breakfast wrap is elevated to savory powerhouse courtesy of scrambled eggs tossed with wilted Swiss chard, chopped bacon, diced onions and melted baby Swiss. The loosely wrapped, slightly drippy bundle does right by all the collected ingredients. Not to mention that it’s a hell of a way to up your vegetable intake without sacrificing any of the other breakfast proteins we all so passionately enjoy.

Pork proved to be a bit of a mixed bag. We were smitten by the Mediterranean flourishes packed into one such number. The unconventional sandwich begins with a generous helping of freshly shaved pork, the meat carefully trimmed of excess fat but still mouthwateringly juicy. The real fun, however, begins when one discovers the briny olive salad. And then the creamy wonder that is the spice-infused hummus. And then the mellowing Muenster.

Their attempt at traditional barbecue, on the other hand, was too clever for its own good. The slow-cooked swine is braised in a coffee-cider vinegar bath that definitely tenderizes but does not effectively cling to the meat, producing surprisingly bland bites of shredded pork. Luckily, Gallagher rounds out each order with your choice of Golden Blends Barbecue Sauce. (The fabulously spicy, tomato-based Black Powder Blend gets our vote; native North Carolinians will likely tilt their heads toward the vinegar-packed Dry County Dip.)

Beef fared consistently better. Grilled roast beef marches out enrobed in roasted peppers, caramelized onions, more melted Swiss and tangy horseradish mayo, the surrounding slices of au jus-soaked rye doing their damndest to contain the salty, meaty, piquant experience within. The top-tier burger was pretty no frills but still wholly satisfying, rolling out a sizeable slab of cooked-to-order organic beef conservatively dressed with mayo, mustard, pickles, tomato and lettuce.

Seafood made us smile, whether it was a salmon burger bolstered by teriyaki sauce and spring onions or toothsome crab cakes threaded with carefully measured spice.

Parks promises that more tongue-teasing options are coming in 2012, like marinated calamari and arugula salads tossed in smoky tomato emulsions. Interactive cooking tutorials are also ahead. “Come hungry for food—and knowledge,” Parks counsels.

—–

The Butcher Station
3107 Valley Ave., Suite 106, Winchester; 540-662-2433; www.thebutcherstation.com

Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday.
Average entree: under $12 ($).

(January 2012)

By Warren Rojas / Photography by Kate Bohler

Hummus & Falafel

It’s not that we were totally shocked to find a rather progressive but still deeply personal Lebanese restaurant like Nora had sprouted up in an otherwise non-descript shopping strip along Gainesville’s main thoroughfare.

It’s who we routinely spotted dining there that ultimately blew us away.

For those who’ve not yet been, Nora is a dual-themed establishment owned and operated by veteran toque Walid Boustany.

Whereas his previous business pursuits entailed overseeing local outlets of the once-prominent Aladdin’s Eatery chain, Boustany has since turned his attention to this largely undiscovered gem—a passion project that aims to appeal to natives in need of a taste of home and newcomers looking to inject a little adventure into their gustatory travels.

The seemingly modest, suburban eatery also serves two distinct masters: those who shuffle into the booth-lined main dining room and favor the relative peace and quiet of subdued family meals, as well as lounge-bound revelers who flock to the sleek and sexy side room for prolonged drags of flavored smoke, a nibble of exotic eats and perhaps a glimpse of undulating flesh on evenings when scantily clad belly dancers wind their way through the clapping, leering crowd.

Cheese pie

The restaurant, which quietly crept onto the scene in late 2009, doesn’t appear to want to set the world on fire. Then again, it doesn’t really have to.

The novelty of the cuisine, we would wager, is enough of a draw for those who have grown weary of the fast-food circuit that cropped up along with the destination shopping complex that’s been the mainstay of this commuter community for going on a decade.

The main dining room is often perfumed by the lingering scent of foreign delicacies but appears perfectly non-confrontational, interweaving just a smidge of Lebanese art and Middle Eastern curio amid the standard table tents, local event announcements and otherwise mundane notices that otherwise blight suburban shop windows.

As noted earlier, the seats are regularly claimed not by famished Lebanese nationals or even unseasonably tan expatriates from the Mediterranean coast but by lily white nuclear families and groups of graying couples.

Granted, Gainesville is probably predominantly retirees, but we were still rather shocked to discover: 1) so many ethnic cuisine-loving, older Westerners lending their support to a newish establishment, and 2) the frequency with which said regulars returned to the fledgling operation (we spotted at least one repeat customer, if not more, during half our trips out to Nora). The nocturnal and cliquey nature of those attempting to shrink into the darkest corners of the adjoining hookah lounge made it harder to troll for familiar faces. But confidence is high; a substantive poll of the assembled lounge lizards would help trim the median age of the average Nora fan by at least a decade or two.

Home-spun hand pies made mouths happy no matter what hour we tried them. Open-faced pastries featuring tangy, crumbled feta baked to a golden brown atop rows of juicy, zesty diced tomatoes were all-around favorites. Half moons filled with cinnamon-spiked ground beef and sautéed onion ran a close second, while nutty tricornered offerings stuffed with lemon-soaked greens (highly acidic), crunchy pine nuts and earthy sumac struck a chord with vegetarians.

Chicken Soujouk

Protein-topped hummus proved to be the best of all possible pita-topping worlds. The garlicky spread arrives smothered with either thinly sliced steak, seasoned chicken, or both, along with sliced almonds and a rainbow of pickled vegetables (my favorite part of the multi-sensory experience). Beef and chicken were both good, but we would probably come down more in the poultry camp, while the pickled cucumbers and turnips were awesomely sour yet still pertinently crisp.

Chicken soujouk obliged us to burn through a whole basket of pitas, the mixture of finely ground chicken, minced tomatoes, onions and spices proving too irresistible to pass up.

Stewed lamb wants not for terrific company, revealing hearty slices of mouthwateringly tender lamb—rendered so thanks to the artfully carved ring of prophylactic fat left surrounding each magical morsel—nestled into dreamy bed of steamed rice, seasoned ground beef, minty yogurt sauce (brightened each mouthful) and shaved almonds.

A funky flatbread promises lamb, sirloin and pine nuts, only to deliver the same cinnamon-spiked ground beef spooned into various other dishes. But I still devoured every last bite, if only because I needed something to scoop up every last drop of the intensely spicy house hot sauce fashioned from pureed hot peppers and native spices.

Lamb kebabs were, sadly, rather hit-or-miss, yielding cubes of seasoned lamb that ranged from juicy and savory to dry and bland, or were just improperly deployed. Case in point: a kebab sandwich sabotaged nearly every one of the incorporated ingredients; the surrounding pita was too tightly wound and over grilled, effectively robbing the wrapper of much-needed elasticity and compressing all the underlying ingredients. The lamb was woefully dry, the hummus merely OK, and the pickled vegetables much less demonstrative than they had proven to be when left to their own delicious devices.

For all our explorations, the beverage carte remained wildly undiscovered country. The master wine list boasts over a dozen Lebanese producers specializing in everything from classic chardonnays and sparkling blanc du blancs to inky syrahs and tannic cabernet sauvignons.

Prefer something a little lighter? Wrap your lips around over a half-dozen fresh fruit smoothies (strawberry, chocolate-banana, mango+, guava+, Hawaiian) or any of the slew of freshly squeezed beverages (orange, carrot, apple, carrot-celery, orange-apple).

Nora Taste of Lebanon
14674 Lee Highway, Gainesville; 703-753-0233; www.norarestaurant.com

Hours: Open for lunch and dinner daily.
Prices: Average entree: under $12 ($).

(December 2011)

By Warren Rojas / Photography by Kate Bohler

Shake & Bake Milkshake

Upsetting the status quo isn’t necessarily what Ray’s ringleader Michael Landrum aims to accomplish with the unveiling of each subsequent restaurant project. But he sure does seem to enjoy it when it happens.

“People have predefined notions of why they’re coming to a Ray’s restaurant, and it’s mostly for beef,” the renowned steak baron acknowledges. “At the new location, I’m hoping to get a fresh start.”

That “new location” is Ray’s the Third (Rt3), the next evolution eatery that marries many of the growing restaurant group’s greatest hits with previously unencountered proteins and sweets.

Landrum long ago learned to manage the overwhelming expectations that envelop the eccentric epicurean’s every professional move. But that doesn’t mean he likes it one bit.

“My restaurants don’t get to open and evolve naturally. They open with a tremendous amount of pressure and to enormous volume almost immediately,” the battle-scarred restaurateur suggests. He chastises the entire hospitality industry for adopting the Hollywood blockbuster mindset, intimating that everyone expects huge opening weekends and land-office business every day thereafter, whereas he prefers to emulate the deliberate fine-tuning and adaptability exhibited by stage performers.

Fried Oyster Po’boy

Take Rt3’s fried chicken.

The rather juicy and delicious, Southern-fried bird was originally introduced at Ray’s the Classics. But Landrum decided to shake things up a bit, ultimately creating the companion “Hell chicken”—a marinated version inspired by Tennessee’s Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack. And even that remains a work in progress. “We’ve actually been gradually increasing the heat level,” Landrum confesses.

Same goes for the so-called “gushers” (Juicy Lucys by any other name). “That’s sort of the inevitability of my sick mind and that over-the-top product,” he says of the cheese-filled constructs that literally spray molten dairy and beef jus on those who brazenly rush right into the unapologetically messy meal (Rt3 – 1; dress shirt – 0).

Gushers will, at least for the time being, remain confined to Rt3—primarily because none of its sibling establishments is properly equipped to turn them out. “You can’t do that style of all-American burger without a flat-top grill,” Landrum asserts. And don’t expect him to get all freaky-deeky with the fillings either. “I’m pretty comfortable with the range that we have there,” Landrum says of the roughly half-dozen stuffed burgers he’s already put into service. “No need to get all Kama Sutra on it.”

No argument here.

Each gusher summons twin, five-ounce patties seared (medium or well-done are your only viable options) on a sizzling flattop, and sandwiched around the gourmet cheese—think: sharp cheddar, zesty pepper Jack, breathtaking Danish blue or decadent, double-cream brie—of your choosing. Toppings hounds can marvel at the sky-high accoutrements (melted Swiss, crispy bacon and a fabulously runny sunny-side-up egg) stacked atop the terribly-sloppy-but-oh-so-worth-it breakfast burger.

Hell chicken

Hell chicken proves quite heavenly, revealing a house-rubbed bird that’s fried but not battered, and escorted by quadruple-cheesed elbow macaroni and refreshing cole slaw. The featured bird is enrobed in cumin, paprika and other mystery spices, which are aptly complemented by the accompanying Hell sauce, a chutney-like construct forged from chipotle peppers, cayenne, onions and tomatoes.

The fisherman’s platter was—wait for it, wait for it—off the hook. The overly generous spread showcases cornmeal-crusted oysters (succulent and slightly briny), breaded shrimp (hot, crunchy and flush with tender meat) and thick, flaky catfish filets swimming in savory Creole sauce (bonus baby shrimp were, well, gravy).

Need something to temper all the spice the Rt3 kitchen is hurling at ya?

“Alkie” shakes to the rescue. Two film-inspired coolers include: the Kahlua-spiked Dude (Big Lebowski) and bacon-topped Shake & Bake (Talladega Nights). “I caught a late-night rerun of the Ricky Bobby story … and it just happened to coincide with when I was making the shake menu,” Landrum says of the reverse engineering that took place once Will Ferrell’s daffy race car driver’s mantra took possession of his brain.

During our visits, shakes were being drained in mere minutes and throughout the meal; fellow patrons were ordering one as an aperitif, one with dinner and another for dessert—and there’s no shortage of booze in each serving. The shake & bake featured vanilla ice cream infused with a long pour of Kentucky bourbon, sweetened by chocolate and caramel syrup, crowned with whipped cream and finished off with thinly sliced ribbons of crunchy, hickory-smoked bacon. It was clever, but perhaps a bit contrived. We much preferred the simple pleasure of vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce and freshly chopped strawberries.

Landrum shares that he was thrilled to learn that everything BUT aged beef was flying out the doors during their first few weeks in business. “I was giddy and gleeful with how many people were not getting steaks,” he recalls. Of course, as time passed, orders of steak frites continued creeping higher, higher and higher.

But why dwell on the past when there’s still so much to do, now and in the near future.

With his cheesesteak venture now in full swing, Landrum suggests that two other languishing projects, his wine bar (Ray’s the Glass) and bakery/coffeehouse (Ryse) concepts, could materialize in realtively short order. “They’ve both evolved into things that should be coming out fairly soon,” the always-enigmatic entrepreneur hints to us recently.

A standalone seafood operation, however, may be totally sunk. Both the timing (he pointed to that fact that chain sub shops are now doing lobster rolls as evidence that entire trend has jumped the shark) and eye-opening research into the sordid world of sustainable seafood seem to have convinced Landrum to finally cut bait on that dream.

“It’s just not something I’m comfortable with,” he suggests, deriding the “very artificial, delusional sustainability” of a lobster harvest predicated on the overfishing of cod (the shellfish’s natural predator).

Ray’s to the Third
1650 Wilson Blvd., Arlington; 703-974-7171

Hours: Open for lunch and dinner daily.
Prices: Average entree: $13 to $20 ($$).

(December 2011)

By Warren Rojas

Maksymilian Skolik/shutterstock.com (chocolate and hazelnuts); Aaron Amat/shutterstock.com (brownie)

Moist and fudgy brownies are SOOOOO 20th century.

Granted, Brownie Brittle Company founder Rebecca Campbell didn’t fully intend to revolutionize the chocolate treat market when she plucked her initial batch of thin, crunchy confections from the oven.

But that happy accident helped launch a new career, and helped introduce the world to her unique brand of crisp, chocolaty snacks.

Campbell started out with plain Choco-Lot (bolstered by a rain of rich chocolate chips) but now boasts over a dozen specialty flavors ranging from tart candied lemon to strikingly peppermint-y. Her top sellers include: Dark Choco-Lot, regular Choco-Lot and Totally Toffee.

Meanwhile, the mad baker remains hard at work on her next-generation sweet, kicking around ideas for Coffee Toffee and Mocha Rum lines.

Brownie Brittle products are available locally at T&K Treasures (Clifton) and The Virginia Shop (Alexandria). To learn more about Campbell’s company or order online, visit: www.thebrowniebrittleco.com.

(December 2011)

Notice anything different about this year’s Best Restaurants roster? We did, too. The boom in first-timers (over 20 percent) was very refreshing—though it also reminded us of just how incestuous the hospitality biz can be.

2941’s local beet salad

2941
[$$$$] Food: 9.0 / Ambience: 8.8 / Service: 9.0
2941 Fairview Park Drive, Falls Church; 703-270-1500; www.2941.com.
Open for lunch Monday through Friday, dinner Monday through Saturday.

The times, they are a-changin’.

And the  seasoned crew behind the once revolutionary 2941—which has, particualrly as of late, proven to be astutely resilient and brazenly ambitious—appears genuinely excited about rising to the challenge of seducing a new brand of pleasure-seeking consumer.

Granted, official-looking cliques of designer suit-clad business executives continue to lord over the sunlit chamber during daylight hours. But even power lunchers now tend to handle their affairs with a wine-filled goblet in one hand and a glowing iPad in the other.

Executive chef Bertrand Chemel continues to branch out from their restaurant’s signature prix-fixe format, weaving tapas-sized snacks into a carte already abounding with international flare (anyone tried his tastes of the world menus? They’re mini-vacations, sans all the jet-lag and lost luggage.)

Housemade spanakopita summons nutmeg-laced spinach enrobed by buttery phyllo.

Acid-capped frisee cuts through a decadent duo of cereal-crusted chicken thighs (crunchy above, succulent below) and hearty lardons.

Slow-roasted, salt-studded bone marrow out butters freshly churned dairy.

Ashby Inn
[$$$$] Food: 9.2 / Ambience: 8.5 / Service: 9.7
692 Federal St., Paris; 540-592-3900; www.ashbyinn.com.
Open for lunch Wednesday through Saturday, dinner Wednesday through Sunday, brunch Sunday.

Chef Tarver King is an incredibly talented, but unpretentious, toque; when the delivery truck rolls in, he’s right there alongside his crew, hauling sacks of King Arthur flour and crates of farm-fresh eggs to and fro, sans any attitude.

Once settled, though, he returns to the task of confounding supporters with deliberately vague menu items that only allude to the edible whimsy (toasty pretzel gougeres, zestacular curried crackers) King and his crew spin out of their bustling kitchen to the edacious guests.

King’s riff on deli standards ingenuously weaves together unctuous, house-cured pork jowl pastrami, caper-studded Thousand Island dressing and pickled Kohlrabi.

Flavorful jumbo lump crab is brightened by citrus leaves and currant mignonette.

Cheesecake is shored up by malty beer ice cream, dreamy chocolate mousse, roasted peanuts, crumbled pretzels and warm caramel sauce.

Bastille
[$$$] Food: 8.5 / Ambience: 7.9 / Service: 8.0
1201 N. Royal St., Alexandria; 703-519-3776; www.bastillerestaurant.com.
Open for lunch Monday through Saturday, dinner daily, brunch Sunday.

“Every time we come here it consistently has been very good …” I overhear a neighbor begin to inform his doting server. But before he can finish his thoughtful critique, his giddy wife blurts out, “and the award for best dessert belongs to you,” her eyes glazing over as she regresses into the memory of a cherry-chocolate revelation spun from the hands of co-owner/pastry chef Michelle Poteaux.

Sounds about right.

A mound of creamy, chilled goat cheese drizzled with charming basil oil, sea salt-studded melons (water and cantaloupe) and vinaigrette-drenched micro greens sum up summer deliciously.

Grilled whole sardines smothered in olive-caper compote, all escorted by squash-rich ratatouille is every pesce-vegetarian’s dream.

Vanilla-spiked bavarois is invaded by berry coulis, crunchy cookies and preserved peaches.

Bavarian Chef’s liebercasen

The Bavarian Chef
[$$$] Food: 8.4 / Ambience: 8.2 / Service: 7.9
200 Lafayette Blvd., Fredericksburg; 540-656-2101; www.thebavarianchef.com.
Open for lunch, dinner Tuesday through Sunday.

You almost need to have a drink already in hand before reading aloud the Bavarian Chef’s import-heavy draft list, lest your mouth go dry while attempting to rattle off the vowel-deficient dunkels, bocks and hefeweizens poured into oversized steins at regular intervals.

Chef/owner Jerome Thalwitz’s portions are just as generous, and his globally-inspired carte (venison pate with cranberry-horseradish sauce, crab cakes sits astride sauerkraut, roast rockfish over hot buttered noodles) wants not for creativity.

A ginormous housemade pretzel—each salt-studded section thicker than a garden hose—is the kind you only dream of getting at the ball park.

Beer-braised veal is outstanding, only to be outshined by the beyond-buttery and totally unadvertised marrow buried within the Flintstone’s-sized shank.

Vanilla ice cream is the glue that holds together a fabulous nut ball featuring chocolate sauce, toasted coconut and crushed nuts.

Bazin’s salted caramel tarte

Bazin’s on Church
[$$$] Food: 7.9 / Ambience: 7.6 / Service: 7.6
111 Church St. NW, Vienna; 703-255-7212; www.bazinsonchurch.com.
Open for lunch Tuesday through Friday, dinner Tuesday through Sunday, brunch Sunday.

“Well, hello! You’ve been here before …” the perky hostess sing-announces when I walk through the door, my mind instantly reviewing the highlight reels from previous visits to discern how/why I’d outed myself to chef/owner Patrick Bazin’s staff.

Once I catch the rest of her greeting—“Right at this same table” (false)—do I realize the seasoned hospitality vet is just using Jedi mind tricks to fabricate an insta-rapport with me (nice try).

Not that I’d mind being a regular.

Smoked chicken gets top billing in a savory cannellini. But it’s the triple cheesing—goat cheese in the tender crepe, browned mozzarella above and a dusting of ground Parmesan available by request—that made us swoon.

Poached monkfish is inundated with butter, while sweet lobster meat and savory lobster bisque have their way with whipped potatoes.

Chilled caramel is gift wrapped in ganache, sea salt and sublime chocolate sauce.

Brabo
[$$$] Food: 8.0 / Ambience: 7.8 / Service: 6.6
1600 King St., Alexandria; 703-894-3440; www.braborestaurant.com.
Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner daily.

I’m not sure whether executive chef Chris Watson needs to do some disciplining or if restaurateur Robert Wiedmaier needs to call down the thunder, but somebody ought to straighten out BRABO’s disjointed service corps, pronto.

Despite having an army of servers on the floor, the restaurant seems to stumble at nearly every turn.

Dueling bread runners show up within seconds of one another, neither knowing who, exactly, has proper jurisdiction. “But you haven’t even received your entrée yet?” an oblivious server sputtered, a good 15 minutes after I’d been done with the meal (good eye, sparky). Good thing Watson still delivers.

Squid ink-soaked rapini give seared scallops a run for their money.

Grilled octopus-potato hash is stoked by zesty piquillo pepper sauce and garlicky chimichurri.

Roast salmon is romanced by a refreshing “salad” of cubed cucumbers, tangy dates and crushed walnuts bound by frothy lemon sauce.

Carlyle
[$$] Food: 7.2 / Ambience: 7.4 / Service: 7.7
4000 Campbell Ave., Arlington; 703-931-0777; www.greatamericanrestaurants.com.
Open for lunch Monday through Friday, dinner daily, late-night dining Tuesday through Saturday, brunch Saturday and Sunday.

Staring out at the sea of bronzing bare shoulders and happily panting pups (giddily slobbering into complimentary bowls of cool, refreshing water) I’m tempted to believe that living the endless summer dream has less to do with surfing and everything to do with chillaxing on Carlyle’s patio.

Great American’s servers are trained to kill their patrons with kindness— standing orders that help turn out happy customers from open to close.

Fried calamari falls somewhat flat—until I discovered the piquant onion straws and zesty tomato-corn salsa hidden in plain sight.

Love crab? I prefer the sweet-and-savory marriage of shredded jumbo lump, potatoes, bacon and ripe corn in the house chowder to the monotonous chew of the bland cakes.

White chocolate bread pudding is bathed in a boozy caramel sauce that blows the lid off the sweetness meter.

Curry Mantra
[$$] Food: 6.8 / Ambience: 6.6 / Service: 6.2
9984 Main St., Fairfax; 703-218-8128; www.dccurrymantra.com.
Open for lunch, dinner Tuesday through Sunday.

Curry Mantra founder Asad Sheikh has big plans for his modest eatery. The serial restaurateur has tasked ex-Rangoli chef and in-law, Adil Akhter, with collecting regional delicacies from across the Indostanic Peninsula.

Those culinary touchstones make up the core of Curry Mantra’s carte, which is subsequently supplemented by nightly specials that run the gamut from onion fritters soaked in sour curds to tender fish swimming in fragrant curry.

Hard-boiled eggs take shelter within deep-fried potato balls crisscrossed with competing torrents of soothing yogurt and invigorating tamarind.

Housemade biryani tosses juicy goat meat into a fiery rice blend padded with carrots, ginger, garlic and aromatics.

Tandoori chicken bellows steam and hisses with rage after being plucked from the infernal depths of its clay pot and thrust into the light of day atop a foil-wrapped skillet.

Sheikh is already eyeing expansion opportunities.

Duangrat’s
[$$] Food: 7.0 / Ambience: 6.7 / Service: 6.2
5878 Leesburg Pike, Falls Church; 703-820-5775; www.duangrats.com.
Open for lunch and dinner daily.

The festively appointed dining room is typically filled with smiling faces.  Of course, most nights you’ll now find more Westerners than tastes of home-seeking Asians filling the chairs at Duangrat’s.  Consider it a mini melting pot.

The homespun Thai food appears tableside in the blink of an eye. Yet no meal ever tastes like it’s been dulled by warming lights or tainted by a turn in a microwave-safe bowl.

Panko-crusted, wok-fried pork tenderloin wears a coat of fiery chili paste with pride. Stir-fried green beans and artichokes inject fiber into the pig party.

The drunken lobster is delicious—the sweet meat accompanied by Thai basil-topped noodles, bean sprouts and underlying hot peppers.

Dark meat chicken gets goosed by dulcet coconut-curry broth.

Eventide
[$$$] Food: 7.5 / Ambience: 7.7 / Service: 6.9
3165 Wilson Blvd., Arlington; 703-276-3165; www.eventiderestaurant.com.
Open for dinner Tuesday through Sunday.

After suffering a spate of critical departures (kitchen, bar, management) earlier this year, Eventide finally appears to be coalescing around its newly appointed leaders.

This is not to say it hasn’t been a particularly bumpy ride.

The two main floors now seem to share about 33 percent of the menu (typically a featured fish, chicken and other mixed protein preparation), a smart decision which should help short circuit any intra-restaurant feuds/class warfare.

Executive chef Adam Burnett is proving to be more conservative than his predecessor, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Richly oiled, truffled fries were exceptionally crisp and expertly accompanied by basil aioli.

Raw bison, embedded with mustard, minced chives and pickle, holds aloft a pretty quail egg, rides shaded by lightly buttered crostinis.

Pan-roasted duck (perfectly peppered flesh) escorted by pungent turnip greens and sweet corn veloute was well balanced if not particularly ballsy.

Evo Bistro
[$$$] Food: 7.1 / Ambience: 7.3 / Service: 6.4
1313 Old Chain Bridge Road, McLean; 703-288-4422; www.evobistro.com.
Open for lunch Monday through Friday, dinner daily.

Mezze is all about sharing. Which is what makes Evo Bistro the ideal place to raid your spouse’s/significant other’s/friend’s plate for “just a taste” of whatever they’ve ordered.

The main dining room is often packed with jovial groups and nuclear families dutifully working their collective way through shellfish-laden, saffron-laced paella pans, while the crescent-shaped bar remains the purview of chatty, chummy wine lovers.

Chef/owner Driss Zahidi makes Moroccan a top priority, whether it be a salad of intoxicatingly spiced tuna, crispy fried leeks, buttery avocado and cool cucumbers, or a skillet full of paprika-topped, shallot-tinged shrimp.

An order of lamb shank stumbles, the big, knobby bone alternately yielding slivers of zesty-sweet meat then distressingly plain, but still succulent, lamb. Caramelized cippolinis, however, were like islands of sweet in a sea of uncertainty.

Farrah Olivia
[$$$$] Food: 8.8 / Ambience: 8.2 / Service: 8.1
2250-B Crystal Drive, Arlington; 703-445-6571; www.farraholiviarestaurant.com.
Open for dinner Wednesday through Saturday.

“I have foie butter on my plate. If anybody wants to try some, it’s (expletive) delicious,” one young man giddily announced to his table mates after indulging in the fruit of chef/owner Morou Ouattara’s restaurant-resurrecting experiment.

At the first Farrah Olivia, Ouattara knocked critics out with fantastic foams, curious powders and exotic proteins prepared with epicurean wanderlust.

He’s back at it—but in somewhat less attractive environs (chatter from Kora tends to flood the semi-private space).

“The chef has a bit of a sweet tooth,” a server shares with the table.

No kidding.

Honey-cured quail offers up smoky-sweet meat complemented by blocks of tangy feta, colorful beet chips and grilled peaches.

Flash-seared tuna sports bundles of olive-filled pearls and demands to be dredged through savory sardine powder.

Mushroom sausage, prepared from pureed portabellos, hen of the woods and shiitakes, pals around with fabulously crunchy, ginger-spiked couscous.

Fire Works Pizza
[$$] Food: 7.1 / Ambience: 7.1 / Service: 7.1
Multiple NoVA locations; www.fireworkspizza.com.
Open for lunch and dinner daily, late-night dining Friday and Saturday.

As expected, open flames figure prominently at this burgeoning chain of gourmet pizzerias, whether it be the crackling logs in the wood-burning ovens or the eternally flaming fire pit that ties together Arlington’s outdoor patio.

Though artisan pies and Italian fare have always been their thing, the newish Arlington location also co-opted the “square plate special” from sibling property, Tuscarora Mill.

The Barcelona roll marries zesty chorizo, extra chunky black olive salad and molten mozzarella in oven-baked bliss.

Marinated artichokes strong arm all the other contributing ingredients—including roast eggplant and whole leaf spinach—in a very vegetarian pizza.

“I think ALL cookies should have to be made in a pizza oven,” a companion gleefully proclaimed, her eyes twinkling with delight as the still-bubbling mass of flour-free, ice cream-melting dough was placed before us.

Foti’s
[$$$] Food: 8.4 / Ambience: 7.9 / Service: 8.1
219 E. Davis St., Culpeper; 540-829-8400; www.fotisrestaurant.com.
Open for lunch, dinner Wednesday through Sunday.

Chef/owner Frank Maragos continues
adapting to small town living and the still-sputtering economy.

He has shed a short-lived chophouse program in favor of simple lunch fare—think: housemade gyros and Greek salads embellished with pan-seared feta—but still trots out little extras (chocolate egg- and marshmallow peep-studded gelato at Easter, imported organic beans for coffee drinkers) when the mood strikes.

Daily specials run the gamut from baked brie with black olive-roasted red pepper spread to sweet-and-sour shrimp married to tamarind pork belly.

Grilled roulade parks beef-, lamb- and pork-laden sausage patties atop roasted vegetables then ups the ante with tantalizing tzatziki.

Pan-seared scallops join crushed carrots, savory crayfish tails and tender potatoes in tarragon-infused beurre blanc.

Dark chocolate, housemade peanut butter (from local nuts) and peanut brittle collaborate beautifully in a very Reese’s-like pots du crème.

Goodstone Inn & Estate
[$$$$] Food: 8.6 / Ambience: 8.4 / Service: 8.4
36205 Snake Hill Road, Middleburg; 540-687-4645; www.goodstone.com.
Open for lunch Wednesday through Saturday and Monday, dinner Wednesday through Saturday and Monday, brunch Sunday.

“Have you dined with us before?” Goodstone’s  hostess probed a soft-spoken couple as they slowly took their seats.

“We were actually here last year … on the exact same day!” the ready-to-celebrate (wife’s birthday) husband replied.

It’s easy to grasp how chef William Walden’s meticulously sourced cooking—many ingredients are plucked directly from the surrounding landscape— could become habit forming. Add in the gracious service and burgeoning wine program, and you’ve got a sure-fire recipe for repeat business.

Lasagna sports layers of savory wild mushrooms, sweet peppers, carrots, zucchini and herb-laced mozzarella, all surrounded by robust, San Marzano tomato sauce.

Roast salmon, its skin cooked till crackling while its belly soaks in butter and lemon, arrives nestled in a bed of wild mushrooms, tender root vegetables and prismatic flowers.

Raisin-studded brioche pudding bleeds whiskey and laps up buttery ice cream.

Morrison House’s signature burger

The Grille at Morrison House
[$$$] Food: 8.6 / Ambience: 8.4 / Service: 8.5
116 S. Alfred St., Alexandria; 703-838-8000; www.morrisonhouse.com.
Open for breakfast Monday through Friday, dinner daily, brunch Saturday and Sunday.

It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if the army of aspiring/established/gainfully employed vocalists who swarm the Morrison House lounge with alarming regularity, their semi-professional song books faithfully tucked beneath their arms, suddenly started singing the blues.

The catalyst for the caterwauling: Executive chef Dennis Marron recently decamped for another Kimpton kitchen—the coveted Poste post—a D.C. get that leaves the Grille and neighboring Jackson 20 in culinary limbo (at least for the time being).

It was fun while it lasted.

A locally inspired burger incorporated roasted shallots, sharp cheddar and decisively salty Virginia ham into a handheld feast of juice-dribbling beef and garlic-swabbed brioche.

Roast salmon flanked by charred potatoes, tangy red onion gelee, mustard-spiked aioli, divinely zesty horseradish and tempura broccoli kept our taste buds constantly guessing.

Grilled sardines were wisely complemented by pickled carrots and prickly sauce gribiche (stellar).

Hank’s Oyster Bar
[$$] Food: 7.9 / Ambience: 7.5 / Service: 7.0
1026 King St., Alexandria; 703-739-4265; www.hanksdc.com.
Open for lunch Friday through Sunday, dinner Tuesday through Sunday, late-night dining Friday and Saturday.

Server 1: “I just saw your name on the waiting list.”

Patron: “It’s been 24 hours. What can I tell you?”

Server 2: “You’re here more than I am.”

If perpetually popping into Hank’s is a crime, go ahead and lock me up.

Chef/owner Jamie Leeds continues to challenge the seafood status quo, interweaving wide ranging and typically substantive specials—luxurious
lobster risotto and robust monkfish coupled with fennel immediately come to mind; did we mention
all the mouthwatering meats and three combinations?—with a repectable host of non-marine marvels.

Sadly, she’s still holding out on us Northern Virginians (Dupont staples we wish would trickle down to Alexandria: house-smoked trout dip, bacon-pecan brittle, chorizo platter).

A bulbous, bright red New Jersey tomato is baked to juice-spilling perfection beneath a hail of herb-spiked bread crumbs.

Meltingly tender veal—unabashedly scraped every last bit of seductive meat from the bone AND fished out the transcendent marrow—is bordered by tomato ragout and aromatic saffron risotto.

Housemade Panna cotta is perked up by sticky-sweet plum.

Härth
[$$$] Food: 7.8 / Ambience: 8.1 / Service: 7.5
7920 Jones Branch Drive, McLean; 703-761-5131; www.harthrestaurant.com.
Open for breakfast, lunch, dinner and late-night dining daily.

“What was THAT?” a nosy neighbor begged my departing server, having just watched the staffer dramatically uncover a glass-encased ration of fennel-topped, smoked Chincoteague oysters and fan the wafting smoke toward my waiting nostrils.

A hotel restaurant that wholly embraces over-the-top, expense-account dining—massive, unabashedly flashy lobby bar? Check. Ridiculously oversized, outrageously overpriced giant cupcake? You know it.—härth also does its part to advance the understanding of and appreication for seasonally inspired, sustainable dining.

Executive chef Thomas Elder packs a garden’s worth of vegetables—including savory squash, roasted red peppers, mushrooms and spinach—into an egg-filled, pastry-bound quiche.

One deconstructed seafood stunner tucks succulent Maine lobster meat, both sweet, juicy claw and buttery tail, beneath sheets of house-rolled pasta moistened by fetching saffron-cream sauce dotted with meaty morels, tart cherry tomatoes and salty Parmesan.

Fondue fans and do-it-yourselfers should get a real kick ouf of the fairly elaborate butterscotch pudding; the warm, tantalizing pudding is cut with flash boiled Scotch, stirred until both namesake elements are fully incorporated, and then liberally spread across pre-cut pound cake cubes (tasty vehicles, but they tend to disappear much too quickly) and dredged through whipped cream.

Hooked
[$$$] Food: 7.1 / Ambience: 7.8 / Service: 6.7
46240 Potomac Run Plaza, Sterling; 703-421-0404; www.hookedonseafood.com.
Open for lunch Saturday, dinner daily, late-night dining Friday and Saturday, brunch Sunday.

Hanging out at Hooked, particularly when the sun is shining and the imported beers are flowing, is every LoCo resident’s God-given right.

Being waited on in a timely fashion, however, can prove challenging—especially during painfully slow nights that drag out even further when inconsiderate barkeeps turn their backs on paying customers to flirt with visiting acquaintances (get a room—AFTER YOUR SHIFT IS OVER).

The kitchen, now helmed by Johnson and Wales grad Jeremy Waybright, treats patrons with more respect.

Myriad sushi rolls—expertly packed with pickled vegetables, tempura shrimp, broiled eel and tangy roe—continue to thrill.

Cioppino layers slippery, slurpy pappardelle with roast rockfish (terrific), littleneck clams and broth-charged mussels.

Beef lovers should skip the filet-shrimp skewers (great tomatoes, ho-hum proteins) and go right for the carnivore jugular: cooked-to-order NY strip buried beneath boulders of ravishing blue cheese.

Iron Bridge Wine Company
[$$] Food: 7.6 / Ambience: 7.4 / Service: 7.5
29 Main St., Warrenton; 540-349-9339; www.ironbridgewine.com.
Open for lunch Monday through Saturday, dinner daily.

You never quite know who you’ll meet—book-toting, wine-sipping gents lounging the day away; 30-something couples determined to work their way through the litany of small plates; groups of retirees hovering around the automated wine dispensers—once you walk through Iron Bridge’s door.

But if history is any indicator, you are highly unlikely to be alone.

The kitchen continues to mix things up, playing, obviously, to its wine-centric strengths while also keeping things simple enough for even a casual observer to enjoy.

The house burger bucks the toppings trend,
electing to instead grind its core ingredients, including hickory smoked bacon and onions, directly into the beef. The resulting patty is very hefty and plenty expressive.

Fluffy, cigar-sized crepes are split in half, revealing mouthwatering bites of vanilla-spiked lobster.

Jumbo shrimp arrive nestled in a bed of saffron-laced couscous embellished with onions, sweet peppers and tomatoes.

Jaleo
[$$] Food: 7.9 / Ambience: 7.2 / Service: 7.0
2250-A Crystal Drive, Arlington; 703-413-8181; www.jaleo.com.
Open for lunch Tuesday through Friday, dinner Tuesday through Sunday, late-night dining Friday and Saturday, brunch Saturday and Sunday.

Confidence is low cheflebrity Jose Andres will ever again step foot in the NoVA version of his pioneering tapas concept.

And he probably needn’t worry about it, either.

The well-established enterprise is usually crawling with people, be they variety-seeking government contractors (easily identified by their dangling security badges) or monument-fatigued tourists (cameras, maps, fanny packs).

Unlike the attention-hogging, occasionally over-chilled gazpacho, a bowl of Salmoreja rewards soup lovers with creamy tomato stock, wickedly salty Serrano ham, a shimmering, submersible egg and a splash of bracing vinegar.

Salt-crusted hanger steak rides a magic carpet of smoky, roasted sweet piquillo peppers.

Rossejat summons a paella stand-in predicated upon fried pasta—twisty, crispy and exceptionally oily, ramen-style noodles—and tender shrimp, all bolstered by an eyebrow-raising side of creamy mayonnaise.

Next page >>

By Johnisha M. Levi

Assorti Pie

Café Assorti’s wide selection of Central Asian sweet and savory pastries may be a little daunting, but here is a roadmap designed to help you wisely navigate the overflowing pastry cases. With the exception of the Cheburek, these are all baked to a tawny glowing finish.

Assorti Pie: This large baked pastry is shaped and proportioned like the traditional Ashkenazic Jewish cylindrical pastry, the knish. It is filled with a combination of beef, eggs, tomatoes and cheese.

Cheburek: This crescent-shaped, pan-fried Uzbek pastry is traditionally made with beef, but also available with a pepper-jack cheese and spinach filling. It makes an ideal soup or salad side.

Pirozhok: A baked pastry similar to the Polish pierogi in size. Comes in different shapes to distinguish the following fillings: egg and onions, ground beef and onion, cabbage (with sesame seed garnish), and spiced potato. These also come in one sweet flavor, apple.

Rasstegai: The name for these baked pastries derives from the Russian word, rasstyognutyi, meaning “unfastened,” because the tops of the pastries are usually slightly agape, revealing the filling. Choose from beef and potatoes, fish (tilapia or salmon; with black pepper “fish eyes”) or vegetable (cabbage, potatoes and carrots).

Samsa: A baked pastry triangular or square in shape. Filled with your choice of ground beef, chicken and mushroom or turkey and mushroom.

Vatrushka: This is exclusively sweet, and is filled with either fruit or sweet cheese and raisins. The sweet cheese filling is a traditional flavor that you will see across the Assorti menu in the sweet cheese pie, the sweet cheese pancakes, in croissants and the rose pastry (the latter, a spiraled pastry resembling the petal layers of its namesake flower, glazed in meringue).

Looking to venture beyond the desserts and the savory/sweet pastries at Café Assorti? Here are other additional creations guaranteed to reward your inner explorer.

Breakfast

The Sweet Cheese Pancake: “This is a blintz-enthusiast’s dream” was my first thought upon popping a forkful. The creamy “white cheese” is low in water content, with the most delicate of curds and therefore most comparable to ricotta. It is like eating a blintz Oreo cookie-style—all filling sans wrapper, but with a browned and crisp exterior. The experience is only heightened by the addition of both sour cream and house-made mixed berry jam. And the best part of it is that you can order this breakfast item until late in the afternoon (3-4 p.m.).

Lunch

Salad: The vitamin salad was a bit of a nod to the neighborhood demographic and Courthouse-Clarendon’s athletes and vegetarians. The colorful medley of shredded apples, cucumbers, cabbage and carrot may be light on calories but is surprisingly satisfying (no pity party here for the flesh-averse). The salad is full of texture, and the natural sweetness of the apples and carrots marry well with the more demure cucumbers and cabbage.

Dinner
Manti: three to a plate, these large, fist-sized steamed dumplings grip a filling of ground beef and finely diced butternut squash (the latter in place of the more traditionally Kazakh pumpkin). They are served with your chose of either red sauce or the creamed-based pink sauce (a little like a light version of penne a la vodka and equally as addictive). Don’t eat meat? Try the varenki—smaller ravioli-sized steamed dumplings stuffed with your choice of potato or cabbage.

Galabuci: Whether you pronounce it with a soft c or a hard c (Russian versus Polish), this stuffed cabbage by any other name will taste just as sweet. Each leafy mass is generously packed with beef and rice and just how your mother never made it (or my mother at least). The smell of cabbage made me run the other way as a kid, but one bite of this tender mouthful of beef with its melt in the mouth wrapper of tender cabbage smothered in a light tomato sauce is enough to convert any kid for life.

Beverage

Kompot: Assorti’s house refresher gives new meaning to looking at life through rose colored glasses. Order a cold tall glass of this house-made berry elixir (reduced from fresh berries and apples) and you can’t help but feel a bit more carefree and optimistic. Curious about the difference between this and another house drink, the kisel? The latter is more viscous—General manager Ben Slocum describes it as JELL-O-like—as it is thickened with potato starch.

by Warren Rojas

Haven’t yet decided on exactly what type of buzz-worthy closer will enjoy the honor of gracing your holiday table this winter?

Please, allow Heaven’s Gate chef/owner Wilma Little to do the heavy lifting for you.

The Stafford-based caterer is a total wiz in the kitchen, handling savory duties while her daughter, Tea, a trained pastry chef, pitches in on the sweet side of the equation. But we firmly believe their crowning achievement comes about whenever the pair bake up one of their mouthwateringly delicious, willpower-bending cheesecake-pound cake collaborations.

The combination cakes—think: rich, cream cheese-packed cheesecake married to dense, moist pound cake—marry all manner of complementary flavors, including: vanilla-strawberry (simple yet seductive), chocolate-banana cream (groovy), lemon-key lime (a tropical blast), apple-cinnamon and pineapple-pina colada (Little claims she can’t keep this one in stock).

To learn more about Little’s soup-to-nuts catering operation, or to place a special dessert order, visit: www.heavensgatecatering.com. 

(Nov. 2011)

By Kris King

Fer Gregory/Shutterstock.com

According to Neighborhood Restaurant Group beermolier Greg Engert, the mere presence of a cask means nothing if the bar is pumping mud from its firkins. But he does admit that a bar that’s willing to put the patience and care into keeping a cask tasting great is a good indicator in the bar’s quality.

“Having a cask and maintaining it and pouring it and really treating it right is a pretty damn good indication that you’re going to get yourself into a great craft beer experience,” Engert suggested.

As for cask ales popularity, Mad Fox Brewing Company founder Bill Madden postulates that many people come across the beverage while travelling to places like the United Kingdom, where publicans still sling the stuff on the regular. More often than not, however, cask ale fans simply prefer the taste of beer from a cask. “It’s a little bit more of a delicate beer than most,” he said, “it’s not heavily carbonated, so you can enjoy it, and it’s served at an elevated temperature so you can really sense all the flavors in it too, much better than a beer served at 36, 38 degrees.”

Casks can be rewarding for those behind the bar as well.

While Madden and his crew at Mad Fox get to play with their beer while it’s still in production, casks give Engert and his ilk a chance to tool around with the brews coming in from distributors by adding their own twists and tweaks into the firkins. “I filled one cask with wet hops that had pulled out of a farm in Maryland the day before, which gave [the beer] this wonderful delicate fresh hop effect in the nose that made it a different beer,” mused Engert, “In another I put strawberry and vanilla that gave [the beer] a nice subtle sweetness and fruity quality.”

Carrying cask ales, however, isn’t without setbacks.

One major downside for bars looking to stock cask ales is availability. While brewpubs like Mad Fox can incorporate filling casks into the brewing process—making their entire line of beers potential candidates for cooperage—bar owners that rely on distributors must choose from the handful of breweries that have cooperies on site. In this area, that means a lot of casks from Maryland’s Heavy Seas Beer and from Flying Dog Brewery, both of whom reliably put out a variety of cask ales.

Setting up your own cooperage is one way around that hang up.

Engert’s restaurants maintain their own firkins, 80 in total, shipping them out to brewers to be filled and shipped back to the restaurant through his distributor. For Engert, this means that he can get beer from any brewery within his distribution circuit that’s willing to fill his casks, including international brews. “During the fall and winter and early spring we do get quite a few casks coming over from Great Britain primarily, even further afield through importers,” he explained, “but they can’t really ship those during the warmer months because they’ll go bad due to being unpasteurized and unfiltered.”

Availability issues aside, the effort that goes into cleaning and preparing the wooden firkins and trunk lines can be relentless. Without proper maintenance, cask conditioned beers can get corrupted by unclean lines or poorly maintained firkins, resulting in stale, muddy beers.

“It keeps us pretty busy because it’s very labor intensive, and it’s a very hands on sort of product,” Madden said.

Because wooden firkins fall apart under the pressures of mechanical cleaning, Madden and his crew at Mad Fox have to clean and fill them by hand. Then, the beers take time to condition within the cask at the brewery, after which they’re moved to a cooler and then moved from the cooler to the cask station, where it sits for a couple of days before it can finally being tapped.

It’s not any easier for bars that get their beer from distributors.

Because Engert’s restaurants use their own firkins, staff has to keep up an equally strict regimen of keeping them clean. To insure that his lines flow clean, Engert replaces his every month, a hassle that many bar owners aren’t willing to deal with. “[With cask,] you don’t have the gas pressure behind the cleaning mechanism like you do on a draught system,” he said, “and the casks themselves have so much more stuff in there, much more yeast and sugar and protein, as well as the ambient temperatures, [which] can cause infections, so we tear them out.”

While the work is hard, casks sell like crazy for both Madden and Engert.

Mad Fox goes through roughly 10 to 12 casks a week, while the Rusticos burn through three to five. Despite casks expanding popularity, Engert doesn’t seem confident that we’re in the midst of an all out real ale revolution. “I think a lot people are talking about casks and that a lot of people like them, but I think it’s a very small, but radical community,” Engert said with a laugh. “A lot of cask drinkers still like things a little bit more effervescent and carbonated, or would rather get the same beer at a better price on draught than they would on cask.”

Price is a problem from the bar’s perspective as well, as casked beer doesn’t provide as big of a return as kegged brews. Bar owners pay the same price for a 10.8 gallon firkin as they do a 15.5 gallon keg. “That’s pretty significant,” Engert conceded. “You’re getting 2/3rd the beer for the same price… Not to mention, because these casks are not filtered, they’re going to typically have a good amount of sludge at the bottom that makes that bottom portion unsellable.”

So why do it?

Casks are labor intensive, costly, restrictive and only popular in certain sections of the beer community. Why go through the effort? For Engert, it’s simple. “I do it because it’s awesome. I love cask beer. I think it’s amazing… If you’re in this business for money, then you shouldn’t be in this business,” he asserted.

Madden echoed a similar sentiment: “It’s a lot of handling, it’s a lot of moving around and cleaning of casks,” he lamented, before concluding, cheerfully: “It’s a labor of love.”

by Warren Rojas, Photography by Kate Bohler

Hangover Burger

While waiting in line one afternoon at Reston’s be right burger—the prototype for a potential fast-casual grilling operation as imagined by local chainlet incubator Thompson Hospitality Corporation—the funniest thing happened: Staff sent a potential customer ELSEWHERE to eat.

The redirection came about after a childless gent approached the front counter and attempted to economize on the fly, selecting a kid’s meal as the path of least resistance to budget dining. The young lady behind the register politely informed him that adult orders started at around $6 ($6.59 for a plain burger, to be exact), a bulletin that made Mr. Spendthrift visibly recoil and prompted him to inquire as to the whereabouts of the nearest McDonald’s or Wendy’s (clearly a dollar menu connoisseur). The sweet-natured cashier didn’t give it another thought, instinctively providing turn-by-turn instructions to fast food nirvana and bidding the deal-seeking patron a great day.

Now, that is service with a smile.

Unlike the cash-strapped protagonist of my little parable, I wasn’t surprised by the prices attached to brb’s conservatively crafted menu. I did, however, question the need for another gourmet burger joint—particularly one situated within the burger-saturated confines of Reston Town Center (see Pace to Taste sidebar). But the more Town Center burgers I ate, the more I came to appreciate brb’s quirks and ambition.

According to Wade Breaux, vice president of marketing for Thompson Hospitality, the trend watchers at his Herndon headquarters began batting around a “burger space concept” about a year ago. So they brought their corporate wish list—flagship beef offerings, poultry selection, vegetarian alternative—to ATR executive chef Richard Beckel and allowed him to fill in the epicurean blanks however best he saw fit.

Beckel’s current program includes: standard build-your-own option, a half-dozen signature creations and a few alternates (1/4-pound hot dog, lobster roll, house-baked chocolate chip cookies). The ground beef is sourced from a Maryland farm, the lobster imported from Maine, the pre-made turkey and vegetarian patties purchased commercially and wheat-sprinkled, brioche buns outsourced to a local bakery.

The other planks of the brb model are sustainability (kudos!) and technology, which brb has embraced—to a fault.

The tiny shop (think: two tables plus a handful of barstools inside) is typically flooded with the upbeat Thump! of the electronica channel on SiriusXm. An integrated six-panel TV array broadcasts food porn—cows chew their cud in a daisy-flecked field, farmers lovingly caress still-sprouting crops, potatoes burst forth just-tilled earth—on an endless loop. Irreverent signage (“From a farm, not a factory”; “Hormones are for chumps”) trumpets their greenness.

Meanwhile, that bank of flashy touch-screen monitors—you know, the ones that were supposed to revolutionize the ordering process. A month in, they remained purely decorative.

At least the grill works.

“We’re on the fence between fast food and full service,” Breaux proposes, acknowledging that neighboring sibling ATR is “a little more polished.”

“The Tap Room has A burger. [But] they don’t offer the same range that we do,” he suggests, trumpeting brb’s varied selection.

Samurai Burger

Breaux notes that beef burgers outsell the turkey, veggie and lobster options combined (as expected), listing the Shroomin’ burger as their overall sales champ while fingering the Hangover burger as the social media darling.

Neither was my favorite.

That honor fell to the Samurai. I opted for a turkey base, which looked like a straight Sysco-grade, straight-from-the-deep-freeze product, and was rewarded with a hot, juicy patty that proved readily accepting of all the elements competing for its affection. Teriyaki sauce bathed the accommodating protein in sweet, the wasabi mayo added resounding creaminess, the sautéed onions flexed a bit of piquancy while the melted American cheese, which sounded grossly miscast, enveloped the entire production in rich, gooey goodness.

I did like the Shroomin’ burger (double mushrooms, more sautéed onions, melted Swiss), particularly when anchored by the vegetarian patty. The portabello mushrooms—thick cut, exceptionally juicy specimens—led the charge. But the grilled vegetable patty, featuring a complementary blend of savory black beans, sweet corn niblets and caramelized onions, proved to be the star attraction.

The lobster roll was just terrific, yielding four solid ounces of sweet, buttery lobster meat escorted by just a hint of mayo, Old Bay seasoning and some diced celery. “We kind of tried to leave the meat alone … let the lobster speak for itself,” Breaux says of their minimalist approach. The roll was typically the weakest link, sometimes emerging cold or suspiciously plain (butter + grill = yes, please).

The Hangover was definitely helped along by the oily slab of buttery cheddar deposited atop this messy arrangement. But the fried egg was inconsistent (overcooked till rubbery) and the seasoned beef-and-bean chili depressingly bland.

The lackluster chili almost sank the similarly topped Sedona. Luckily that paean to Southwestern dining was salvaged by the collaboration of sliced jalapeno (extra spicy), chipotle ketchup (sassy saucing) and zesty pico de gallo (salsariffic).

Does brb make the best burger around? Not quite.

They have some work to do to overtake reigning neighborhood champ, Clyde’s smokehouse burger (a 1/2-pound mountain of cooked-to-order beef outfitted with your choice of cheese, tangy barbecue sauce, crunchy, beer-battered onion ring and unctuous pork belly).

But they’re also just getting started.

Breaux suggests that monthly specials could join the menu rotation after the restaurant really hits its stride. “He’s not short on ideas,” Breaux says of Beckel’s burger acumen.

Thompson, meanwhile, has already committed to exporting brb downtown (it’ll help initiate “The Yards” complex, a proposed residential/dining mecca near Nationals Park in Southeast D.C.). And Breaux believes management could fast-track two more regional outlets within the next year.

“The concept is proving to be a viable business model,” he suggests.

Be Right Burger 

1820 Discovery St., Reston; 571-926-9428; (www.eatbrb.com)

Hours: Open for lunch and dinner daily, late-night dining Thursday through Saturday.

Prices: Under $12 ($).

(October 2011)