Kitchen Wench

I think Pasta Mia pasta is like crack.

Seriously.

I ate at the tiny Adams Morgan institution for the first time this weekend. The place has maybe 15 tables, does not take reservations, does not take credit cards, and yet there is always a line out the door. Under normal circumstances, this would indicate that there must be something to the hype, but you never know in DC. Some things are just inexplicably overrated in this town (Lauriol Plaza, anyone?).

I waited almost 2 hours (30 mintutes in line, an hour at the table) before a bite of pasta hit my lips. The wait was worth it. That is how good my pasta was. And this is coming from someone who becomes incredibly belligerent when denied food. Also, the carafe of fruity house wine probably didn’t hurt either.

I ordered the penne carbonara, which arrived all eggy and buttery, dotted with flecks of crispy pancetta and topped with a huge mound of Parmesan. There is something so decadent about a silky egg sauce and melting cheese. Also, I was surprised at how overjoyed I was to be eating perfect al dente pasta in a restaurant. My favorite thing about pasta is the chewy texture of a perfectly cooked noodle. Prior to Pasta Mia, I hadn’t found good Italian food in DC. I tried Tosca and was disappointed, especially for the price tag. (Everything at Pasta Mia is under $20.)

So, I had a great meal. So great that it just won’t seem to go away. I actually can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like the first time I had Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby (another crack-like food). I couldn’t stop craving it. The same appears to be true of Pasta Mia. I keep seeing that steaming plate of penne and tasting the tangy cheese in my mind. I think I just might go back on Wednesday.

Belgian food is starting to quickly become an overdone fad in DC. However, having spent most of my life in the Midwest, deprived of moules and frites, I just can’t seem to get enough of them. Plus, trying new restaurants gives me an excuse to eat french fries, even though I know they’re bad for me.

Two weekends ago, Lee and I made reservations for any early dinner at Brassiere Beck. BB opened about a year ago amid serious hype. Reviews seem to be mixed, but BB also keeps popping up in various best new restaurant lists. While that’s enough to make one a little hesitant, Brasserie Beck definitely exceeded my expectations on several counts.

Lee and I each ordered a salad ($13) to start - bibb lettuce with roasted beets and frisee with lardons and poached egg. I’m sorry there are no salad shots — I was so hungry that I forgot to take a picture. The beet salad arrived with thin slices of beet arranged in a circle and a little pile of lettuce leaves and minced red onion in the center. As an avid beet fan, I have eaten many a beet salad. This rendition was perfectly acceptable but not very memorable. The mustard dressing was very mild, and I thought the raw onion overwhelmed their delicate flavor. I think a gentle dressing works will with tender bibb lettuce, but a little more acid would have brought out the sweetness in the beets.

The frisee salad, on the other hand, was divine. Like, eyes rolling back in my head, weak knees, drooling a little divine. The presentation was also delightful - the mound of frissee was topped with a parmesan toast crisp and a perfectly poached egg. I love this flavor combination, but in the past I have noticed that this salad can become overpowered by the sherry vinegarette and becomes soupy once the egg yolk is mixed into the greens. What is notable about Brasserie Beck’s salad is that the salad is dressed just lightly enough to impart a vinegary pucker that is smoothed out by the richness of the yolk. But the best part is the addition of little deep fried shallots, which opens the salad up to an entirely new level of flavor suggestion and gives it greater textural interest. I would go back for this salad alone. Read the rest of this entry »