One part Belgian, one part French. Crepes dominate the menu, Belgian tasties...the bar list. The best French Dip I've ever had, Belgian endive salad.
So which is it?
Who frickin' cares?
L'Enfant Cafe provides a bounty-o-happy for anyone wanting French or Belgian. And we were that anyone. Well, four anyones, to be precise.
Our friends, das Webbers, joined us downtown DC for a night of drinky-drinky and eating. After perusing a list of possibilities, we ultimately chose L'Enfant Cafe for its broad selection of Belgian beers. (Factually, I erroneously thought it a Belgian cafe. Oops.)
Located at 2000 18th Street NW in DC, it is a mere four blocks from our apartment. Easily walkable, and so we did. Herr Webber and I speculated over what beers we would find. The girls? Don't have a clue; brau chat can do that to a fella. Especially a fella who love beer as much as we do.
The cafe boasts the largest patio in Adams Morgan (that is not saying much, but it is a goodly-sized patio. Twelve tables provide seating for 72 or so.) The building is on a corner and provides more than a few window seats. The interior is dark wood, and wooden tables and chairs. It is very cozy, and without any pretense whatsoever. Coming from Boston, I found it just like a number of pubs back home, and that comforts. The tables are close enough to feel intimate, but the din is sufficient to provide privacy during conversation. The walls are adorned with posters of yesteryear, French of course, and are interspersed with photos and sundry decorations. It is by no means overwhelming or too much. In fact, after a few seconds of checking it out, I forgot all about the walls.
Sitting near the window, we checked out the menu. Simple, the menu is. The entire right page of the menu is dedicated to crepes of all sorts; sweet, savory, and so on. Clearly, this is a crepe joint. Otherwise, the menu offers sandwiches, salads and appetizers, and bowls of stew.
As we were in no rush, we decided to start with apps and drinks, and then order dinner when the mood struck us. We also decided to each try a beer we had never had before. Herr Webber got Hoegaarden (good for him!), Frau Webber got Stella Artois, Carmencita got a Delirium Tremens, and I got a Chimay Red. None were disappointed. For me, the Chimay Red was a great new flavor, mixing charcoal, molasses, and a slight fruit overtone, resulting in a hearty glass on a chilly night. (Ok, truth be told, I only had one; then I promptly switched to Hoegaarden for the rest of the evening.)
For starters, we ordered a cheese platter, featuring Brie, Camembert, and a mild cheddar served with crackers and fresh red grapes. Additionally, we got an unfortunately-named Pu-Pu L'Enfant; Prosciutto, marinated olives, pearl onions, gherkin pickles, roasted red peppers, and shaved Parmesean cheese. There was more than enough for the four of us to start, and we savored every minute of it, taking over an hour to polish it off; it's just that kind of place. Eventually we ordered dinner. For Carmencita, a turkey club sangwich. For Frau Webber, a crepe. For the guys, the French Dip.
Ok. Let me take a moment to tell you how ridiculous the French Dip was.
Pretty ridiculous, let me tell you.
My number one complaint with French Dips I've had is the au jus. It's always the damn au jus. Noone had ever gotten it right. The juice is meant to be a robust, flavorful, and textured dipping sauce...NOT a weak beef-flavored broth. Give me depth, damn you! We got our French Dips (served with a mesclun salad in a vinaigrette), and I knew L'Enfant meant business. The baguette was wide, browned perfectly, and with just the right amount of crunch; it would prove a worthy tool to sop juice with. The meat was flavorful and slightly stringy. I suspect it was a flank cut; a vast improvement from the chuck cuts I'm used to getting. Ick. Swiss cheese melted all over this sucker and provided a tangy cut to the richness of the salty jus.
The dip: soaking up juice with crusty bread, watching it stain a deep, deep brown is one of life's true pleasures.
The approach: droplets of beef juice fall to the cup below in slow motion, like beads of brown gold going back to the juice lair to await my command to enter my face. I can't believe this is happening to me.
The entry: My jaw drops in anticipation of the sangwich, much like the blast shield dropped for Han Solo and Luke pretending to be an Empire transport ship in The Return of the Jedi. I am still in disbelief. Sweet, sweet disbelief. Satisfaction...imminent.
The bite: Oh. My. God. My eyes tear up. Up until that moment, I could only imagine the joy a mother feels when holding her newly-born child for the first time in the hospital. Now...I weep with understanding. I have to will my face to chew. Otherwise, if left to its own devices, my body would crawl underneath the table and wait to perish, assuming it had seen the best this world had to offer a soul. And so I chew.
The swallow: It pains me to swallow, even though the rest of my system is patiently waiting for the bolus to come. I can't bear to let it go. Just...one...more...chew. Finally, after climax, I am ready for the next bite. I flag the waitress for many more napkins.
Yeah. You think I'm kidding.
For dessert, we ordered a variety of sweet crepes; Amaretto, Nutella, Chocolate, Lemon and Sugar. We shared crepes, the four of us. Crepes...and a moment. We were all changed by my ordering a French Dip sangwich, and somehow, we all knew it. We left better somehow. Better, and happier for me having ordered the sangwich.
The bill was a bit steep for our liking, but when you order $7 beers, that will happen to you. The service was okay (the waitress kept chatting with the bartender, resulting in our having to approach her a couple of times), and moved at a comfortable pace; we spent the better part of three hours eating sangwiches, cheese, and booze.
Interior: 8.50/10.00 (Cozy, dark, and all about the conversation, baby.)
Menu: 7.00/10.00 (Higher if you dig crepes enough to have it dominate a menu.)
Wine list: N/A. (Sorry. I didn't look at all. I'll go back and investigate.)
Service/Waitstaff: 5.00/10.00 (Nice when she was with us. Had to chase, though.)
Food: 9.00/10.00 (Do I really have to recap here?)
Value: 6.00/10.00 (If you order beer. If not, 8.25/10.00. The sangwiches were $9.)
Overall: 8.75/10.00
Showing posts with label Nibble Notes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nibble Notes. Show all posts
3.01.2007
2.11.2007
Nibble Notes: El Pollo Rico
Tonight was Sunday-dinner-with-the-inlaws night. And it was a winner. Boy, was it a winner.
We went to El Pollo Rico, a Peruvian rotisserie chicken joint in Arlington, Virginia. Mom-in-law has friends who know it well, and recommend it highly.
Located amidst office buildings, El Pollo Rico is an unassuming storefront with a small private parking lot, full at 8pm on a Sunday night. Families were making their way into the building as we pulled in; one of the gentlemen even guided us into a parking spot.
As we opened the door, the smell of chicken and cumin hit us straight on, and it was oh-so-savory. The interior is painted in red, green, yellow, and white (the colors of Peru), with paintings of country scenes hanging on the walls. The line wrapped around the edge of the interior, and was almost all Peruvians; I figured we were in the right place. We made our way up front and the line rounded to the left near the two small registers at the serving counter. I looked up at the menu to peruse their offerings, and saw only the following;
Quarter-chicken $3.90
Half-chicken, white and dark $6.30
Half-chicken, white $7.80
Whole chicken $11.00
All orders served with steak fries and cole slaw.
Cash only.
That was the second good sign. It has been my experience that cash-only joints are serious foodie locales. Experience did not let me down this time, either.
The line was held up while they replenished the chicken supply from the open-air roasters. Twenty-five chickens in each turned slowly over the exposed flame, their juices spitting into the fire, making it lick up at the lower birds. The stove itself is old wrought-iron with brick and surrounded by bags of charcoal; it mesmerized me as my dinner spun before my eyes. After a few minutes, the chickens were ready, and the line moved. Finally, we got up to the counter. It was our turn. My mother-in-law and I ordered (in Spanish, of course!)
The process was as simple as this;
(In Spanish) "I'd like a half-chicken, please, with an Inca Kola (a Peruvian drink that smells like Bubble-Yum and tastes like cream soda.)"
One cook took a plate and put freshly-made steak fries, cole slaw on it, and several little containers of just-made salse verde and spicy mayonnaise. The second cook grabbed a bird, took a cleaver, whacked off half of it, and put the rest on my plate. On a tray, at the register, and off to an old wooden table to eat.
My first bite confirmed my suspicions; this place knows how to make a rotisserie chicken. The skin had been cured in cumin, garlic, pepper, parsely, and salt. The fire-roasting gave the skin a crisp, light texture that was delicious and moist. The meat was perfectly-done, and plenty juicy. I preferred to dip mine in the salsa, which provided just the right amount of kick. The steak fries were hot and lightly-salted, and provided a great starch to go with the protein. The cole slaw was a little runny, but hardly worth complaining about (face it, when the first 'complaint' is about the cole slaw, you're doing something right.) For dessert, a home-made flan ($2).
So let's see. A half a chicken, steak fries, cole slaw, flan, and a soda for under $10? This was one of the most value-oriented meals I've ever had in metro DC. South American candies were available as well to finish off your meal if half a chicken wasn't enough for you.
Interior: 7.00/10.00 (it's simple, appropriate, and very comfortable.)
Menu: 2.00/10.00 (in this case, not a bad thing at all! It's the best 2 I've ever given.)
Wine list: N/A
Service/Waitstaff: N/A (but I will compliment the staff for trying to speak English to us.)
Food: 8.50/10.00
Value: 9.50/10.00 (you cannot beat a quarter-chicken meal for $3.90 around here. Nope.)
Overall: 9.00/10.00
I know the numbers don't add up; I can barely explain it myself. But maybe I can sum it up best this way. On our way out, I noticed a table of ten people. They were a Peruvian family having dinner together. The father sat at the head of the table, overseeing it all with a smile on his face. He had a suit and a tie on, and it was then I realized; this was their Sunday family dinner together. The children were laughing, the adults were chatting, and everyone was eating with a grin on.
I cannot encourage everyone enough to try this place.
We went to El Pollo Rico, a Peruvian rotisserie chicken joint in Arlington, Virginia. Mom-in-law has friends who know it well, and recommend it highly.
Located amidst office buildings, El Pollo Rico is an unassuming storefront with a small private parking lot, full at 8pm on a Sunday night. Families were making their way into the building as we pulled in; one of the gentlemen even guided us into a parking spot.
As we opened the door, the smell of chicken and cumin hit us straight on, and it was oh-so-savory. The interior is painted in red, green, yellow, and white (the colors of Peru), with paintings of country scenes hanging on the walls. The line wrapped around the edge of the interior, and was almost all Peruvians; I figured we were in the right place. We made our way up front and the line rounded to the left near the two small registers at the serving counter. I looked up at the menu to peruse their offerings, and saw only the following;
Quarter-chicken $3.90
Half-chicken, white and dark $6.30
Half-chicken, white $7.80
Whole chicken $11.00
All orders served with steak fries and cole slaw.
Cash only.
That was the second good sign. It has been my experience that cash-only joints are serious foodie locales. Experience did not let me down this time, either.
The line was held up while they replenished the chicken supply from the open-air roasters. Twenty-five chickens in each turned slowly over the exposed flame, their juices spitting into the fire, making it lick up at the lower birds. The stove itself is old wrought-iron with brick and surrounded by bags of charcoal; it mesmerized me as my dinner spun before my eyes. After a few minutes, the chickens were ready, and the line moved. Finally, we got up to the counter. It was our turn. My mother-in-law and I ordered (in Spanish, of course!)
The process was as simple as this;
(In Spanish) "I'd like a half-chicken, please, with an Inca Kola (a Peruvian drink that smells like Bubble-Yum and tastes like cream soda.)"
One cook took a plate and put freshly-made steak fries, cole slaw on it, and several little containers of just-made salse verde and spicy mayonnaise. The second cook grabbed a bird, took a cleaver, whacked off half of it, and put the rest on my plate. On a tray, at the register, and off to an old wooden table to eat.
My first bite confirmed my suspicions; this place knows how to make a rotisserie chicken. The skin had been cured in cumin, garlic, pepper, parsely, and salt. The fire-roasting gave the skin a crisp, light texture that was delicious and moist. The meat was perfectly-done, and plenty juicy. I preferred to dip mine in the salsa, which provided just the right amount of kick. The steak fries were hot and lightly-salted, and provided a great starch to go with the protein. The cole slaw was a little runny, but hardly worth complaining about (face it, when the first 'complaint' is about the cole slaw, you're doing something right.) For dessert, a home-made flan ($2).
So let's see. A half a chicken, steak fries, cole slaw, flan, and a soda for under $10? This was one of the most value-oriented meals I've ever had in metro DC. South American candies were available as well to finish off your meal if half a chicken wasn't enough for you.
Interior: 7.00/10.00 (it's simple, appropriate, and very comfortable.)
Menu: 2.00/10.00 (in this case, not a bad thing at all! It's the best 2 I've ever given.)
Wine list: N/A
Service/Waitstaff: N/A (but I will compliment the staff for trying to speak English to us.)
Food: 8.50/10.00
Value: 9.50/10.00 (you cannot beat a quarter-chicken meal for $3.90 around here. Nope.)
Overall: 9.00/10.00
I know the numbers don't add up; I can barely explain it myself. But maybe I can sum it up best this way. On our way out, I noticed a table of ten people. They were a Peruvian family having dinner together. The father sat at the head of the table, overseeing it all with a smile on his face. He had a suit and a tie on, and it was then I realized; this was their Sunday family dinner together. The children were laughing, the adults were chatting, and everyone was eating with a grin on.
I cannot encourage everyone enough to try this place.
1.28.2007
Nibble Notes: Bistrot du Coin.
The more culinary skills I acquire, the more I appreciate the French, and their contributions to the gastronomical world. During this journey, I came across Bistrot du Coin, located two blocks from my house in downtown Dupont Circle, DC. If you enjoy the true bistro experience, this is an excellent restaurant to visit.
This past Saturday night, Whisky, TMS, and I visitied for a nibble. Arriving at 1145pm, the restaurant will still bristling with energy as waitstaff zipped around delivering loaves of bread, crockpots of steaming mussels, and bottles of French wine. We intended to grab a light supper, as none of us had eaten properly that night.
For starters, we shared a Pâté de campagne Maison; a pork paté served with grilled bread and mesclun greens. The paté was slightly chilled below room temperature, allowing the fatty flavors to develop slightly in the warmer air while retaining its firmness. Whisky and I each ordered a glass of Puligny Montrachet, one of my favorite French chardonnays (at least, one of my favorites I can regularly afford to enjoy!).
For dinner, Whisky enjoyed a Tartine à la tapenade; an open-faced hot sandwich wth black olive puree, bayonne ham, and Swiss gruyère. Dee-lish! TMS and I split an order of Ravioles du Royan, mini herb ravioli in a cream sauce with Swiss gruyère cheese. The cheese 'crust' was near perfect; browned at the edges, and creamy as all-get-out (which, as I'm sure everyone knows, is pretty darn creamy.)
Dessert? French dessert is a study in sublime subtleties; basic ingredients used simply and effectively to create a taste profile rich in complimentary flavors, with no clear-cut emphasis to overpower secondary flavors. For us, it was the brioche with custard, orange blossom, and a light custard sauce. Whisky and I complimented the dessert with an iced Lillet with orange slices; if you have never had an iced Lillet, try it. They make this delightful in two flavors; blanc, steeped in candied orange, honey, mint, and fresh lime; and rouge, raspberry, cardamom, and ginger powerful on the palate. We drank Lillet blanc, a perfect pairing to the orange blossom in the custard.
Bistrot du Coin came about in the recent (80's-90') renaissance of French eating in Washington DC, a trend originally started by JFK during his presidency. The walls are yellowed with paint, helped along by years of tobacco smoke and aging. They are decorated with artifacts from all over France, as the mostly French staff will tell you. The service is comfortable and just the right speed; there is no rush here. Over the din of boisterous conversation (this is not a quiet establishment), one can barely make out the French DJ spinning trance and dance hall tunes at just the right volume. Their wine list is comprehensive and intelligently thought out; they have something for everyone despite one's preferences for type or region. The prices are reasonable, especially for DC (the three of us ate for $65, including the drinks.) And if that wasn't enough, it's one of the only places I've seen here so far that offers steak tartare, complete with egg yolk.
Interior: 7.50/10.00
Menu: 8.00/10.00
Wine List: 8.25/10.00
Service/Waitstaff: 7.50/10.00
Food: 8.50/10.00
Value: 8.00/10.00
Overall: 8.00/10.00
If you like casual (and actual) French, give it a try.
Salud!
This past Saturday night, Whisky, TMS, and I visitied for a nibble. Arriving at 1145pm, the restaurant will still bristling with energy as waitstaff zipped around delivering loaves of bread, crockpots of steaming mussels, and bottles of French wine. We intended to grab a light supper, as none of us had eaten properly that night.
For starters, we shared a Pâté de campagne Maison; a pork paté served with grilled bread and mesclun greens. The paté was slightly chilled below room temperature, allowing the fatty flavors to develop slightly in the warmer air while retaining its firmness. Whisky and I each ordered a glass of Puligny Montrachet, one of my favorite French chardonnays (at least, one of my favorites I can regularly afford to enjoy!).
For dinner, Whisky enjoyed a Tartine à la tapenade; an open-faced hot sandwich wth black olive puree, bayonne ham, and Swiss gruyère. Dee-lish! TMS and I split an order of Ravioles du Royan, mini herb ravioli in a cream sauce with Swiss gruyère cheese. The cheese 'crust' was near perfect; browned at the edges, and creamy as all-get-out (which, as I'm sure everyone knows, is pretty darn creamy.)
Dessert? French dessert is a study in sublime subtleties; basic ingredients used simply and effectively to create a taste profile rich in complimentary flavors, with no clear-cut emphasis to overpower secondary flavors. For us, it was the brioche with custard, orange blossom, and a light custard sauce. Whisky and I complimented the dessert with an iced Lillet with orange slices; if you have never had an iced Lillet, try it. They make this delightful in two flavors; blanc, steeped in candied orange, honey, mint, and fresh lime; and rouge, raspberry, cardamom, and ginger powerful on the palate. We drank Lillet blanc, a perfect pairing to the orange blossom in the custard.
Bistrot du Coin came about in the recent (80's-90') renaissance of French eating in Washington DC, a trend originally started by JFK during his presidency. The walls are yellowed with paint, helped along by years of tobacco smoke and aging. They are decorated with artifacts from all over France, as the mostly French staff will tell you. The service is comfortable and just the right speed; there is no rush here. Over the din of boisterous conversation (this is not a quiet establishment), one can barely make out the French DJ spinning trance and dance hall tunes at just the right volume. Their wine list is comprehensive and intelligently thought out; they have something for everyone despite one's preferences for type or region. The prices are reasonable, especially for DC (the three of us ate for $65, including the drinks.) And if that wasn't enough, it's one of the only places I've seen here so far that offers steak tartare, complete with egg yolk.
Interior: 7.50/10.00
Menu: 8.00/10.00
Wine List: 8.25/10.00
Service/Waitstaff: 7.50/10.00
Food: 8.50/10.00
Value: 8.00/10.00
Overall: 8.00/10.00
If you like casual (and actual) French, give it a try.
Salud!
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