The Buttock

Unbeknownst to me until the tail end of it, last week was Bethesda Restaurant Week. (I am perpetually out of the loop.) My roommate brought it to my attention Friday night, so we went out to dinner at La Miche in Bethesda to take advantage of the deal. In French, a miche is a round loaf of bread, but in slang it can also mean “ass cheek.” I’m thinking the restaurant owners were going with the first definition when they came up with the name…

La Miche was overall very pleasant – its interior was quaint, intimate, and very traditional. I thought the French music in the dining room was a nice touch, too. For $28 (a RW special), we got three courses. (When it’s not RW, you can get the same menu for $35, typically, which isn’t a bad deal.) For appetizers, we shared the baked brie and the escargot. The brie was mediocre at best – served with apple compote and toast, it was lukewarm and bland. The escargot was swimming in garlic butter – very tasty, but nothing out of the ordinary.

We both ordered the cuisse de canard (duck leg confit), which was served with potatoes and mushrooms. It was delicious, albeit a little greasy. This could have something to do with the fact that it's SOAKED IN ITS OWN FAT before being cooked in fat. Yum. Fat. The skin was perfectly crisp and golden, and the potatoes were cooked to perfection. I cleaned my plate.

For dessert, my roommate and I split the raspberry crème brûlée and the blackberries with fresh whipped cream. The crème brûlée was heavenly – delicate and buttery, with the raspberries adding nice little pockets of tartness. Loved it. The blackberries and whipped cream were nothing special; the cream was a little vanilla extract-heavy, and there were only about 6 blackberries in the dish. I should have ordered something a bit more exciting, but after the duck I was feeling like quite the heifer and didn’t feel like anything too heavy.

My feelings about the service were very mixed; it would best be classified as amiable but inefficient. Everyone was very friendly, (even the water guy beamed at us and asked us how we were doing) and the chef visited each table to make sure everyone was enjoying their meal, which is always a plus in my book. However, our main course took forever to come out even though the restaurant wasn’t particularly busy, and we had to wait an absurdly long time to get our check because our waiter was chatting with his friends who happened to be dining there. Slightly annoying.

I would recommend La Miche if you are looking for relatively inexpensive, traditional French food in an upscale setting. If you're willing to pay a bit more, I would recommend La Chaumière in Georgetown, which has slightly better service and a little more inventive take on French cuisine, although I suppose that’s another entry.

Mangez bien!

In Which the Protagonist Bakes a Pie

Old Ebbitt Grill is not a good first date spot for me. I've been there twice now on a first date, and it didn't work out either time. The first first date was with a guy who ended up taking my roommate to a concert a couple months later (they were friends) and then kissed her and tried to rip her bra off. A narrow miss. The other was with a man who would only communicate with me via text messages and wanted to introduce me to his mother.

After one date.

What Old Ebbitt does have, however, is one of the most magnificent desserts I have ever tasted: a bourbon-chocolate-walnut pie that is out of this world. I've been wanting to replicate it for quite some time now, and I finally came up with my own version. To make the pie, I tweaked a Mississippi Pecan Pie recipe from the 1000 Best Recipes cookbook, adding walnuts and chocolate chips instead of the pecans. I was a little nervous as to adding bourbon to it, so i just added it to whipped cream and topped it with that. Also, the pie crust may seem like a bit of work (versus buying pre-made), but it's worth it.


Walnut Chocolate-Chip Pie with Bourbon Whipped Cream
Pie recipe adapted from the 1000 Best Recipes Cookbook
Serves 4-6

For the crust:
1 cup all-purpose flour
4 Tbsp. butter
2 Tbsp. powdered sugar
1 egg yolk

For the filling:
5 Tbsp. light corn syrup
1/3 cup dark brown sugar
4 Tbsp. butter
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup chopped walnuts
1/2 cup semi-sweet mini morsels

For the whipped cream:
1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. bourbon

1. Dump the flour in a bowl. Dice the butter into the flour, then mix with your hands until the mixture looks like bread crumbs. Stir in the sugar, egg yolk, and two tablespoons of very cold water. Mix and knead with your hands until the dough is smooth. (Add a bit more water if the dough seems really dry.)
2. Roll out the pastry dough on a lightly floured surface until it is large enough to line an 8-inch pie dish. Line the dish with the pastry and prick the bottom with a fork a couple times, then line the crust with foil filled with beans or pie weights (this will weigh the pie crust down so it doesn't bubble up when baking.) Chill for 30 minutes and preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
3. Bake the pie shell blind (alone) for 10 minutes. Remove the foil and beans/weights and continue to bake the crust for 5 more minutes.
4. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees.
5. To make the filling, heat the corn syrup, brown sugar, and butter in a saucepan over medium heat until the sugar dissolves. Remove from the heat and cool slightly. Whisk in the eggs and vanilla extract. Stir in the walnuts and chocolate chips (but you don't have to stir until the chocolate melts - it's better if it doesn't.)
6. Freak out because the filling looks very liquidy, but pour it in to the crust anyway, and trust that everything will work out better than my first dates. Bake for 35-40 minutes until the filling is set.
7. While that's baking, whip together the cream, sugar, and bourbon with an electric mixer until peaks form and it resembles, well, whipped cream. Feel free to add a bit more whiskey, if you'd like. Serve with the pie.

A fizzy lifting drink and a gigantic digeridoo

Last night, I attended a food and wine event at the Australian embassy. They had a wine tasting going on, which I adore - I love nodding as the sommelier discusses the bouquet and pretending to know what he's talking about, then swirling the wine around in my glass pretentiously and taking slow sips, pausing in between each one to try and pick out different notes, although the best I can usually come up with is nothing more detailed than "fruity" or "woody." Classy, Kate. Occasionally, though, I encounter a wine that packs a real gustatory wallop (very technical term.) Last night's was the sparkling Shiraz. Indeed, I had never even heard of it, so it was quite a pleasant surprise. It had all the intensity of a good Shiraz with a pleasant buzzy kick. I think I'm really excited about it because I truly prefer red wine, but it always seems so heavy in the summer. This, though, is as refreshing as a white (it is served chilled), but I don't have to sacrifice that full-bodied flavor of a red that I love. I'm told it goes well with barbecue; I think it would be a great accompaniment for grilled steak.

The wine we sampled was a 2004 Paringa sparkling Shiraz. Relatively inexpensive at $10 a bottle (I can afford it, hurrah!), it had notes of blackberry, raspberry and chocolate. Pretty much everyone I saw return to the bar requested a glass of it. Fun and delicious.

Note: I was told that sparkling Shiraz is not very common and can be difficult to locate. I'm not sure of any DC wine stores that carry it - I'm going to check Best Cellars in Dupont today. Two websites that I've found that have it (and deliver!) are The Jug Shop (great selection) and Stirling Fine Wine.

Also, I saw an Aborigine play a digeridoo. A night can't get much better than that.

I may or may not have licked this to see what it tasted like.

So, I've never been a big fan of hand creams. I hate how they take ages to soak in, how if you meet someone shortly after applying one they think you have heinously sweaty palms, how they get under your fingernails; the list of grievances is long, my friends. That was, until I discovered the mother of all hand creams: J.R. Watkins Apothecary's Lemon Cream Shea Butter. Not only is this generously-sized tub sold at none other than the classiest of locales (i.e. Wal-Mart) for about 5 big ones (or online for $7.99 plus shipping), it absorbs quickly so I can reach out and touch a stranger almost immediately without embarassment, and it smells like lemony cake batter. (But not in the, "Hello, I'm a hooker and I think you'll be attracted to me if I smell of food," Jessica Simpson Dessert Beauty kind of way. Glad we got that cleared up.)

Also, just as a side note, J.R. Watkins is not paying me to wax poetic about his product. I just think the man makes a really good hand cream and felt it was time to spread the love. Plus, that would be a huge waste of his money, as I'm pretty sure about 2 people read this blog, one of which is probably my mom.

Photo credit: watkinsonline.com

The Catholic Guilt Complex

I just ate a Fractured Prune doughnut. At 4:30 in the afternoon. And now I feel very bad about myself. Just thought I'd share. (Although, sweet Jesus are they good.)

It's coming...

DC Restaurant Week! From August 6-12, select restaurants around the city will be offering prix-fixe menus for lunch and dinner. Click here for a list of participating restaurants.

I've been dying to try Butterfield 9, and this seems like the perfect opportunity! Joy, rapture.

Image credit: washington.org

A winning combination. Like a martini and a Percocet.

You could maybe sprinkle some Ecstasy on it. That might be good.

Last week I ate at Paolo’s with my roommate and her family (delish, B.T. dubs.) They had a salad on the menu featuring watermelon and feta, which I did not order but have been obsessing about ever since. I finally made my own, and the result was so tasty – refreshing, tart, and sweet, with a little creamy, salty, and nutty thrown in with the feta and pine nuts. A perfect summer salad. Also, I realize that you're supposed to use 3 parts oil for 1 part vinegar in a vinaigrette, blah, blah, but I really like basalmic and don't really see the point in adding lots of fatty oil. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Watermelon, Feta, and Mixed Greens with Honey Balsamic Vinaigrette

1 bag pre-washed spring mix lettuce (5 oz. of baby greens, spinach, and raddichio, whatev)
1 ½ cups seedless watermelon, cubed and bite-sized (I just bought a container of pre-sliced watermelon)
¾ cup feta cheese, crumbled
¼ cup pine nuts
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
3 tsp. honey
2 Tbsp. olive oil

1. In a small skillet, toast the pine nuts over medium-high heat for a minute or two. (Basically, dump the pine nuts in the skillet – no oil – and wiggle them around over the heat until they brown a bit and begin to smell nutty. This really brings out their flavor. Be careful to keep the nuts moving, though, as they can burn easily. Feel free to announce to everyone in the vicinity that you’re “keeping the nuts moving.”) Remove from heat and let cool.
2. In one of those glass salad dressing mixer things, shake up the balsamic vinegar, honey, and olive oil. (Or whisk ‘em together in a bowl if you’re not fortunate enough to possess a glass salad dressing mixer thing.)
3. Toss the greens, ½ cup of feta, and the pine nuts in the vinaigrette in a large bowl. After tossing, throw the watermelon and remaining feta on top of the greens and serve. (I was hesitant to toss the watermelon with the rest because I didn’t want it to get smushed up.) Yum.

Like a chica cherry cola.

I want you.

Photo credit: tiffany.com

Why, yes, in fact, I AM a tool. Also, here is a very fugly tart:

"No, Keith, you can't Taser an eight-year-old just because they cut you in line to get to Harry Potter. You're 47. Deal with it."

Harry Potter mania has gripped the nation, enchanting pre-pubescents and 40-something basement-dwelling fantasy fiction aficionados alike. The seventh installment was released today, and it is everywhere. Like counting Christmas trees, I've been counting the number of books I've seen people carrying (although I've yet to see one tied to the roof of a car.) Three in the nail salon, two people on random benches reading, one under the arm of a crazed-looking woman in the elevator, two in the gym (okay, one of them was mine - I opted for the stationary bike so I could read while exercising, and let me tell you, it is intense.)
My roommate pre-ordered hers on Amazon, and has been running to the front door every hour on the hour to see if it's arrived. Two hours, ago, she left to go sit on a baby or something to that effect, and asked me to keep and eye out on the front stoop for it and "make sure nothing happens to it." This was said with the all the gravity of someone expecting a live infant or small animal to be dropped on the doorstep. Well, lo and behold, the mailman decided to come when I was at the gym and no one was home, and instead of leaving the book on the doorstep, he left a slip requesting her to come pick it up at the post office. Heartless bastard. The kicker is, the post office closed at 4 and isn't open again until Monday. I can only imagine the bloodbath that will ensue when my roommate returns.
In the spirit of Harry Potter, though, I decided to make a treacle tart last night, an English dessert that appears frequently in the books. This is typically made with something called golden syrup, which is a byproduct of molasses production, and is found at specialty food stores. Since I didn't feel like journeying to the seventh circle of hell in pursuit of this elusive substance, I tracked down a recipe that uses maple syrup instead. It turned out...interestingly. I'm not sure I did anything wrong - the texture of the pie was fine, etc., it was just an odd taste. I don't know. Try it, see if you like it. If you don't, go give it to the Harry Potter weirdo who lives next door.

Treacle Tart
Recipe adapted from the 1000 Best-Ever Recipes cookbook.
Serves 4-6.

Almost a cup of maple syrup (a little more than ¾ a cup)
1 ½ cups plain breadcrumbs
Grated rind of 1 lemon
2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
2 circles (1 box) pre-made pie crust, chilled (why make your own when that little doughboy does it for you?)

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Line an 8-inch pie dish with one of the circles of pie crust, being sure to press it flush against the sides of the pan. If there is extra pastry hanging over the edges of the pan, fold it under, then crimp the edges with your fingers. Mine always tends to look hopelessly lopsided.
3. In a saucepan, warm the syrup until it’s thin and runny. Stir in the breadcrumbs and lemon rind. (If the mixture seems too dry, add a bit more syrup.) Let sit for 10 minutes, then stir in the lemon juice.
4. Spread the syrup/bread crumb mixture into the pie dish.
5. Unroll the other pie crust circle and slice into thin strips with a pizza cutter. Mutter curse words (softly, if there's kids in the audience) when you can’t cut even-looking strips.
5. Lay four strips of pastry vertically over the pie filling, then four horizontally, making a criss-cross pattern.
6. Bake on 400 for 10 minutes, then lower the heat to 350 and bake another 15-20 minutes until golden brown.
7. Serve with ice cream or whipped cream, and wonder why wizards like this shit so much.

Things I Can't Get Over Today: A List

1. The fact that I find myself mildly attracted to Daniel Radcliffe in the latest Harry Potter film. That's slightly creepy - Harry Potter should not be hot.
2. I saw a lone white tennis shoe hanging out in the middle of Canal Road in Georgetown yesterday, and I can't stop thinking about it.
3. My burning desire to make a salad involving any or all of the following: arugula, pine nuts, watermelon, feta.
4. How delicious the Hershey's truffle things are in the communal candy jar at work. I sneak them two at a time when no one's looking, because I feel judged if I take more than one in front of witnesses.
5. My daily existential crisis at my job. As in, why I am here? Do I serve any purpose? The answer I usually come up with is no.
6. My phobia that I'm going to screw up flip cup for my kickball team when we play tonight.
7. How disappointing the chicken fajitas were at Lauriol Plaza last night. Dry as a Mormon prayer meeting. C'mon, guys. You can do better than that.

"I had a scallop for lunch. It was decadence."

Over the weekend, I ate at Agraria Restaurant on the waterfront in Georgetown. The concept, however admirable, seemed a little crunchy when I first read about it – it is farmer-owned and operated and American family farms and ranches supply all the food. The result, however, is surprisingly upscale – the décor rivals many D.C. restaurants and the service was impressive.

I wanted to like Agraria, I really did. The menu was simple, with dishes listed by their main ingredient. I ordered the scallops ($19), which were sautéed in rosemary butter, if I remember correctly. I guess I just assumed they’d be accompanied by a vegetable/side of some sort. Imagine my surprise when the plate came out and contained…three scallops. Call me crazy, call me an unsophisticated American obsessed with quantity over quality who fails to comprehend the concept of FOOD AS ART, but I don’t know what chef sends out three scallops and says, “Wow. That is a completely sufficient amount of food for a main course. Well done, me.” That’s $6 a scallop. Granted, they were absolutely delicious – flavorful, buttery, devoid of sand, but I was left unsatisfied. Perhaps I was supposed to eat the sprig of rosemary they so generously added as garnish.

I suppose I was a bit miffed as well because for a few more dollars, my date got an entire red snapper (complete with eyeballs and tiny snapper teeth, yuck). He said it was delicious; I took his word for it – something about seeing the teeth of the organism I’m eating just turns me off a bit, but I digress. My point is that portion size seemed a little skewed.

My date caught me looking longingly at the dessert menu (again, for me, 3 scallops does not a meal make), so we got two of their fruity options, labeled simply, “Peach” and “Blueberry.” The Peach turned out to be a cobbler with a flaky, brown sugar-y crust. I adore cobblers – they remind me of my Georgia-spent childhood, sitting on my neighbor Elliott’s front stoop and letting peach juice dribble down my five-year-old chin, but this one was (and I never thought I’d say this) too sweet. Way too sweet. So sweet I couldn’t even finish it (a rarity, in the world of Kate), and even resorted to tempering it with the other dessert. Which brings me to...the Blueberry. When we ordered it, I had no idea what it was – the description merely had random words like “float” and “vanilla” involved. It turned out to be this odd take on a root-beer float (sans root beer, obvs). I suppose the best way to describe it would be a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a glass filled with chilled blueberry coulis. Don’t get me wrong – it was tasty – very fresh, syrupy, a perfect blend of tart and sweet, but as a dessert, it just didn’t do it for me.

In all, I was not overly impressed. Honestly, if I wanted to show someone the best of American cuisine, I’d take them to a Texas barbecue joint (Dickey's, after which I will name my firstborn)before I’d take them here.

Logo credit: agrariallc.com

Yes, it's pronounced like it looks: Oeuf à la Coque

Last year, I studied in Paris, France. I lived with Mme. De Billy, a charming old French woman who made me dinner Monday through Thursday. Her culinary repertoire wasn’t very varied, but it was delicious, and one of my favorite things she made was the simplest – oeuf à la coque. This is essentially a soft-boiled egg, but it sounds so much fancier in French, although the first time Madame said it I snorted wine out of my nose because I am that mature. Served with mouillettes (buttered pieces of bread) in a coquetier (egg cup – Crate and Barrel has ‘em on sale right now!), it is a great way to enjoy an egg, provided you don’t mind a slight risk of salmonella. But everything exciting involves a little risk, non?

Oeuf à la Coque avec des Mouillettes
Serves 1

1 egg
2 slices of bread, any kind – we’re not picky here
butter, a little or a lot depending on your cholesterol
salt

Special equipment: egg cup

1. In a small saucepan, bring some water to a boil.
2. When the water is boiling, drop your egg gently in.
3. While the egg is boiling, toast two pieces of bread, butter them, and cut them into strips.
4. After 3 minutes (no more, no less, says Madame), remove the egg and place it in its little cup.
5. With the edge of a spoon, gently tap around the top of the egg in a circle until you’ve formed a little cap that you can take off. Remove cap and give to your hamster to maybe use as a hat.
6. Sprinkle a bit of salt inside of the egg, then dip your bread fingers (mmm fingers made of bread) inside and eat.
*Note: I like to eat this with some steamed broccoli drizzled with olive oil and sea salt for a simple, healthy, French-y dinner.

Photo credit: crateandbarrel.com.

Cookies and (Butter)cream Cupcakes, or, the reason why my pants don't fit this morning

If you want a better picture, buy me a better camera.

Last night, I went to a barbecue at the Delta Chi house. Being the Southern girl that I am, I didn’t want to go empty-handed so I cooked up this recipe and these hot little babies turned out to be delicious. The cookie-crust bottom adds a yummy crunch and a bit of a surprise. (One guy told me they were the best cupcakes he’d ever had, and began referring to me oh-so-creatively as Cupcake Girl. Of course, it’s very possible that he was too intoxicated to remember my name, so I’m not sure if that’s necessarily a compliment.)

Cookies and (Butter)cream Cupcakes

Cookie Cupcakes
( basic cupcake recipe adapted from Cupcake Bakeshop)
Makes 24-26 regular-size cupcakes

1 cup (2 sticks) salted butter, room temperature, plus another ½ cup for melting
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
2 ¾ cups of your average Joe, all-purpose flour
1 ½ tsp. baking powder
1 cup milk
2 tsp. vanilla extract
3 cups (about 25) Oreos, beaten up like a red-headed stepchild

1. Eat an Oreo. Just to make sure they’re not rotten. In fact, better eat two.
2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees, and put the cupcake papers in your muffin tin(s). I suggest using the blue ones. If you use pink, people will know you’re an amateur.
3. In a large mixing bowl, beat 1 cup of butter briefly on high until soft.
4. Add in sugar, beating until light and fluffy.
5. Add eggs one at a time and beat for a bit between each.
6. Add flour, baking powder, milk, and vanilla. Mix to combine.
7. Stir in ¾ cup of Oreo crumbs. Resist urge to slather batter all over your body and lick it off. (Oh, that’s just me? Uh...nevermind.)
8. Set batter aside, then melt ½ cup butter in the microwave.
9. To make cookie crust bottom: In a separate bowl, mix together melted butter and 2 cups of Oreo crumbs. (These should be really finely smushed.)
10. Place a spoonful of the buttery cookie crumbs in each cupcake paper and press down firmly so that it coats the bottom.
11. Top the cookie crust with a heaping scoop of cupcake batter. The cups should be about two-thirds full.
12. Bake for 20-22 minutes until a toothpick (or, if you’re poor/frugal/sensible and don’t want to waste money on toothpicks, the non-lighting end of a match) comes out clean.
13. Let cupcakes cool COMPLETELY before frosting. After frosting, sprinkle remaining Oreo crumbs on top.

Vanilla Buttercream Frosting

1 cup (2 sticks) butter, room temperature
2 cups powdered sugar
2 ¼ tsp. vanilla extract
½ cup milk

1. Beat butter until creamy.
2. Add powdered sugar, vanilla, and milk, and beat until combined.

Here’s some issues with this recipe. Let’s work through them like Lindsay Lohan and her rehab counselor:

- The cookie crust turned out a little too buttery/greasy after baking. Granted, it was still crunchy and delicious, but when I pulled the cupcakes out of their tin, the butter had soaked through the bottom of the paper. Gross. I would suggest only adding as much butter to the crumbs as necessary to make them sticky. (1/3 cup, perhaps?)

- The frosting is, well, a work in progress. It turned out very VERY buttery and thick, but also very sweet, so I was hesitant to add more powdered sugar. If you have a buttercream recipe you’re more comfortable with, I suggest using that. If you do choose to use this recipe, make sure you wait until the cupcakes have really cooled, otherwise the frosting will melt like…well, butter.