BaCon's Virgins and Veterans Crawfish Boil, 2010!

Hey ya'll, it's me again. And I come bearing excuses, one for each of you! Now, now, don't shove, there are plenty to go around.

Yes, I've stayed away for awhile. At first, I was on a post-litigation high. I get a lot of satisfaction from working late nights with nothing but my work, a pizza, and a smuggled bottle of wine to keep me company at the office. So I did that for a few months and wallowed in the strange sickness of an occasional workaholic. There's also that pesky Gaga obsession that has led me to make/wear fourteen costumes since I last blogged. Now that I've counted, I'm sort of embarrassed. Errr. Moving on.

After that, things got weird in la casa de Luz y Lee, and cooking felt more like a burden than a reprieve. So I threatened to move to the guest house and live in tidy, well fed, laundered splendor ALL BY MYSELF DAMNIT. NOTE: We don't have a guest house. Happily, Mr. Luz and I have worked through those problems and we again share (the benefits AND burdens of) tidy, well fed, laundered splendor.

Now, we just have too many ridiculously awesome friends, which gets to the point of this post.  (Only one paragraph later than usual, I might add.)  After reading through my old posts, I realize that I complained a lot about D.C. and 2009 in general.  Much has changed, and though it would make my imaginary therapist cringe to hear me say this, 2010 has been amazing and it's because of my friends. 


The realization that we are truly blessed here in D.C. hit me with full force at our First Annual Veterans n' Virgins Crawfish Boil.  One sunny day in May, we rolled an icy cold keg of beer on to our twee front yard in downtown D.C. and got ready to boil the 120 lbs. of live crawfish that FedEx delivered from Louisiana that morning.

The front yard was packed with happy people enjoying the Spring day.  Some of them were crawfish veterans and Tulane alum, most just adventurous people ready to try something new and unique to the land we live in in our dreams and speak of often, NOLA.   All of them were sexy, sexy people and that's really what matters, isn't it?  I digress.

The afternoon began with a demonstration of how to pinch da tail and suck da heads for the virgins, and for the next 4 hours, we sipped Ramos Gin Fizzes (thanks, NickV!) and beer and ate through all but a few pounds of the crawfish as well as the garlic, corn, andouille and smoked sausages, and artichokes we threw in da boil with the mudbugs. 

As day turned into night, everyone stayed around and a few more showed up for more cocktails, some impromptu cajun fiddle playing (thanks again, NickV) and a concert by the ladies, who all raided the costume closet before belting out Salt n' Peppa songs (remember those?! Of course you do) in the living room and then outside while marching around the block.  In sum, it started sunny and spicy and ended up wild and weird--I don't know what more I can ask for.

That day more than any so far, I felt like I was in the middle of a big and ever-expanding family where things are fun, easy, and open-hearted. Really, although we were trying to bring a little NOLA to our friends that day, they brought it to us instead.  That feeling still overwhelms me when I look at the pictures on this post, and it's something I'll never forget.  Thanks again to our friends in D.C.-you guys make my divided heart (one half here, one half in NOLA) so, so happy.

More to Love: Star & Shamrock Tavern and Deli

"H Street."  It's a phrase that gets spoken in our household approximately 3,400 times a week.  If you didn't know better, you might assume that "H Street" is the name a fancy narcotic that we are addicted to (rather than a kicky, urban area in DC that keeps springing up unique bars, restaurants, and clubs faster than we can grow tired of the ones already there.)

Substitute "H Street" with the name of your favorite illicit drug in the following statements, and you'll see what I mean: "We went to this bar on H Street; No matter what we do on the weekends, we somehow always end up on H Street; We had the most transcendent experience at a restaurant on H Street; Why, we're on H Street right now!"

And don't stage an intervention just yet, ya'll, because our obsession with H Street is getting worse by the day. [See: HStreetGreatStreet.blogspot.com, re: the Biergarten Haus, NoMa Summer Screens Event, ect.]  Yesterday before hitting up a free Bourbon tasting event (you guessed it, "on H Street") Mr. Luz and I stopped by H Street's new "New York Deli slash Irish Pub,"  Star and Shamrock, and the experience was just hedonistic enough to leave me very happy and perfectly full for the rest of the night.  I ordered their Black Chocolate Stout (a bottled beer from Brooklyn Brewery) after consulting with our server and it was pretty awesome.  A little sweet at first, then after a few sips the burnt chocolate malt flavor overtakes the sweetness, and  for a stout, it's very light and drinkable.  Then...our sandwiches came.

Mr. Luz ordered The Latke Madness, 3 potato crispy fried potato pancakes instead of bread (think "club sandwich" style), corned beef, griddled sauerkraut, swiss, and 1,000 island dressing with a pickle and Mr. Luz got the coleslaw side. This was basically a meat, cheese, crispy potato casserole disguised as a sandwich--there was no away around this thing without a fork--and it was as tasty as it sounds.  The corned beef was perfect--warm, tender, not too salty but flavorful enough to hold its own.  I'm also giving 2 thumbs up to the coleslaw for its fresh dill.

I ordered The Chicken and the Cow (which I felt especially delicious ordering: "I'll have the black chocolate stout, and the chicken, and the cow for dinner, please.") It was billed as hot pastrami, swiss, 1,000 island, and chopped chicken liver, and I got mine on pumpernickel with macaroni salad.  By itself, the macaroni salad wasn't making my day, but after I ate my rich ass sandwich, I could appreciate the light, creamy, celery flavored-side dish a little more for its cool simplicity.  As for the sandwich, it was pretty brilliant.  It came with about a 3/4 inch slather of chopped chicken livers that had been mixed with a tiny bit of minced egg and some gherkin of some sort.  And the chicken livers really made the sandwich. The pastrami was very good--thicker cut, sweeter, and sort of herbaceous--but imagine a tasty and satisfying sandwich covered in a good, earthy, meaty pâté, and that's the Chicken and the Cow.

All in all, Star and Shamrock was a cool place with fun beers and food, and we will definitely be back.  I'm already planning a late night beer, booze, and dancing fest, followed by Star and Shamrock's reuben egg roll wraps and their pan friend matzo balls, "on H Street."

Gingerbread Rowhouses & A Very Daring Bakers Christmas

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a Joyous New Year to you, dear readers and ravenous eaters!

Mr. Luz and I are having our very first grownup Christmas, just the two of us and Foxy, this year. I'm so very excited that I'm not getting on a plane and leaving my Christmas tree behind this December! And as we're snuggling on the couch by the glow of our tree this Christmas, I will be thinking of you guys, and I'll feeling very thankful for all of the friends I've come to know or gotten closer to thanks to the blog.

This month's Daring Bakers challenge was, of course, a gingerbread house! I made a gingerbread version of our row house and our neighbors, Val and Lauren's, rowhouse. The whole process was really fun and not as difficult as I was expecting. Apparently, royal icing fixes a multitude of sins.

The December 2009 Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to you by Anna of Very Small Anna and Y of Lemonpi. They chose to challenge Daring Bakers’ everywhere to bake and assemble a gingerbread house from scratch. They chose recipes from Good Housekeeping and from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book as the challenge recipes.

Anna's Recipe: Spicy Gingerbread Dough (from Good Housekeeping)

2 1/2 cups packed dark brown sugar
1 1/2 cups heavy cream or whipping cream
1 1/4 cups molasses
9 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tbs. baking soda
1 Tbs. ground ginger

1. In very large bowl, with wire whisk (or with an electric mixer), beat brown sugar, cream, and molasses until sugar lumps dissolve and mixture is smooth. In medium bowl, combine flour, baking soda, and ginger. With spoon, stir flour mixture into cream mixture in 3 additions until dough is too stiff to stir, then knead with hands until flour is incorporated and dough is smooth.*At this time, the dough was a little dry. I added more milk Tbs. by Tbs. until it held together.*

2. Divide dough into 4 equal portions; flatten each into a disk to speed chilling. Wrap each disk well with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight, until dough is firm enough to roll.

3. Grease and flour large cookie sheets (17-inch by 14-inch/43x36cm)

4. Roll out dough, 1 disk at a time on each cookie sheet to about 3/16-inch thickness. (Placing 3/16-inch dowels or rulers on either side of dough to use as a guide will help roll dough to uniform thickness.) *Rolling out gingerbread dough is a Great workout, FYI*

Cutting out my template, using a book from my Feminist Theory class in undergrad so I can conceptualize my lil' rowhouses AND get some education at the same time.


5. Trim excess dough from cookie sheet; wrap and reserve in refrigerator. Chill rolled dough on cookie sheet in refrigerator or freezer at least 10 minutes or until firm enough to cut easily.

6. Preheat oven to 300 degrees F.

7. Use chilled rolled dough, floured poster board patterns, and sharp paring knife to cut all house pieces on cookie sheet, making sure to leave at least 1 1/4 inches between pieces because dough will expand slightly during baking. Wrap and reserve trimmings in refrigerator. Combine and use trimmings as necessary to complete house and other decorative pieces. Cut and bake large pieces and small pieces separately.

8. Chill for 10 minutes before baking if the dough seems really soft after you cut it. This will discourage too much spreading/warping.

9. Bake 25 to 30 minutes, until pieces are firm to the touch. Do not overbake.

Complete template & obligatory DB glass(es) of wine (with extra roof for 3rd rowhouse I gave up on after baking for 4 hours)

10. Remove cookie sheet from oven. While house pieces are still warm, place poster-board patterns on top and use them as guides to trim shapes to match if necessary. Cool pieces completely before attempting to assemble the house.

Assembling the House:

Decorate your pieces with piped and painted royal icing and edible decorations--Recipe Below--before assembling your house.

To "paint" your gingerbread like I did, put a moderate amount of royal icing in a small bowl, add 1 Tbs. of water and add food coloring to get the desired color. Paint on with a paintbrush.

To create caramel windows, put your gingerbread pieces with the windows cut out on a silpat or parchment paper covered with non-stick cooking spray. Mix 1 cup of sugar and 1 Tbs. of water in a heavy-bottomed pan. Bring sugar mixture to medium-high heat and as sugar begins to melt, slowly stir unmelted sugar into the melted sugar. Once it's mostly incorporated, stop stirring and instead gently shake the pan to even out the heat distribution and stir the mixture. (If you stir it, you'll get little bubbles throughout your caramel mixture and your windows will be too opaque.)

When a small bit of caramel dropped into a glass of water forms a "hard ball" you're ready to pour your mixture into your window cutouts. Let the caramel cool until it's hard and easily releases from the parchment paper/silpat. *Note: If you choose to light your gingerbread house with corded vs. battery operated Christmas lights, tape them to your base to keep them from knocking your gingerbread walls around, and cut a small notch in your gingerbread piece to accommodate the wire.*

Once your decorated pieces have dried, carefully assemble them using tension and various household items to keep them standing while they dry. IF you make a dual or triple row house, be sure to include an inside wall between the rowhouses so that your roof doesn't collapse.

My house with supplies in the background. I read that the 100 calorie pack Oreo snacks made great shingles, and they did! Adorable, and a fun shape to work with.

Complete Gingerbread Rowhouses, with Happy Holidays cookie-message on top.

Royal Icing Recipe:

3 egg whites
1/2 Tbs. cream of tartar
4 cups powdered sugar

Beat egg whites and cream of tartar till fluffy. Add powdered sugar, 1/2 cup at a time, until incorporated. Your mixture should be stiff and slightly cement-like. Use immediately and cover any unused portions with a damp cloth until you're ready to work with it.

Foxy, looking frightened of the GIANT bag of flour I had to buy for this challenge

Pure Hedonism: Bistrot Du Coin's Beaujolais Nouveau Release 2009

I pulled on my gold lamé top, wiggled into my black tights, and asked Mr. Luz, "are the heels on these shoes too high for a night of drinking and dancing?" on a typical Wednesday night, just like any other in D.C. Ok, if you insert "red velour tracksuit" for the gold top and tights, and change the quote to "How many Top Chef episodes do we have to watch to catch up before tonight's show?," then that would be the case. In reality, I was preparing to celebrate the most glorious of holidays in D.C....Beaujolais Nouveau Release Day.

On the third Thursday of November, France releases its most recent Beaujolais Nouveau wine vintage, (made from Gamay grapes grown and handpicked in the Beaujolais region of France) creating a festival-like atmosphere around the release and a virtual "race" to be the first to enjoy that year's harvest. It is rumored that by the time all of the Beaujolais Release events around the world have handed out their last bottle and swept their last revelers out the door, over half of the region's annual production (65 million bottles, ya'll) has been imbibed.

Of course, this is just a bit of brilliant marketing on behalf of the wily French. Except for exceptional vintages, Beaujolais Nouveau is not meant to be aged. It's a fruity, floral, light-bodied wine for quaffing within 9 months of bottling, so the French create a stir around the release to promote the early enjoyment of its baby wine. I'm happy to say that I enjoyed this year's Beaujolais Nouveau early and often at this year's Release Party at Bistrot Du Coin in D.C. You're welcome, France.

My hedonistic pursuits on the night of the Beaujolais Release Party did not stop with the black ankle strap 4 inch heels and plasticy metallic apparel. From there it snowballed into a cholesterol-laden feast, with Bistrot Du Coin's velvety chicken livers, luscious veal sweetbreads and cream sauce in a puff pastry, brothy mussels, crispy frites, and a big skillet of dark and rich lamb stew. After dinner and because we could only squeeze our party of 10 into the 7pm seating, we were forced to drink too much champagne and be merry until the actual Release at midnight. (Reservations for BdC's Beaujolais Release Party are slim, and good luck trying to get in as a mere drinker/dancer after the restaurant hits its fire-code capacity.) With the champagne came the dancing as diners cleared the floor, waiters cleared their tables to the far edges of a previously quaint restaurant, and the disco ball and club lights came up. And finally, as the bartenders began handing out plastic cups and free bottles of Beaujolais Nouveau at midnight, with the wine came dancing on the bar and (don't you wish you knew what was in this parenthesis?)

So maybe I'm not going to spill all my secrets, but suffice it to say that no one escaped BdC's Beaujolais Nouveau Release Party without doing something embarrassing, wearing purple wine-stained clothes, and giggling into a plastic cup of Beaujolais Nouveau. And I'm already counting down the days till the next third Thursday in November. France, you are awesome.

A Villain & A Victim: Halloween 2009

Mr. Luz and I hosted our First Annual K Street Halloween Party this weekend, and we had the absolute best time. Last Halloween was our first big night out in D.C. after we moved here, and it's really amazing how different things are one year later. We've found a fun-loving, supportive gaggle of friends, and it was great to get all of them together to mingle and celebrate Halloween.


Mr. Luz and I spent some time and creative energy on our costumes, so I thought I'd post them here. (NOTE: Mr. Luz has a tendency to be somewhat shocking on Halloween--it takes the party to a whole new level, and I love it. That said, his costume may be a bit....shocking.)

Here's what we were going for:

Poison Ivy from Batman and Lady Gaga (pop singer/spectacle extraordinaire. She's fantastic)

Here's where we ended up...10 hours of costume-making and one trip to Michaels later. My cape was awesome, but also inconvenient in a crowded party

Here's where it gets shocking--Lady Gaga at the Video Music Awards and....
....Mr. Luz at the dance club. The resemblance is uncanny, no? I love this man.

Annual Pop-Culture Reference Straight Ahead

Yes, I love pop culture....I fell in love in law school because I didn't want to be challenged by non-law school things like music, literature, and TV. And it's just soooo easy and cozy that I've had a hard time getting back into any sort of media with actual educational value. Lucky for you, dear readers, I've avoided making pop culture references on the blog until today. It's Halloween, and in DC that means everything is about dead stuff, bats, politics, and pop culture until November 1st. So I feel justified in saying:

1. Kevin's total dominance on Top Chef reinforces I've been saying all along...never underestimate the power or pork fat.



2. This Halloween is going to be the best yet. I'm going as Poison Ivy from the Batman comic books/movies/animated series. Mr. Luz is going as Lady Gaga at the MTV Video Music Awards, and I'm making a double batch of BBQ pulled pork. All is right with the world.

Happiness Is...Bacon Bloody Marys

Sticky Rice on H Street SE in D.C. will serve you your very own pitcher of bloody marys if you're lucky enough to catch their brunch menu.

And if you ask nicely, they'll throw in 3 pieces of crispy, crunchy bacon that you can eat right away (tempting) OR you can sink them in your gallon of bloody mary so it becomes little slabs of chewy-spicy-tomato-porky-insanity.

NOTE: I grew up in the Midwest where I was a waitress/college student. I spent the past 3 years dealing with law-school-stress and bar-exam-stress in New Orleans, and now I'm a lawyer. In sum, I can drink. This pitcher o' love put me under. Luckily, I enjoyed mine during the H Street Festival, where dancing in the streets was encouraged. Good luck with yours and don't say I didn't warn you.

Obelisk Restaurant, D.C., Because I Deserve It

This past weekend I spent a quiet, lazy morning sipping coffee and puttering around in the cool, sunny air breezing through my open windows, and I felt thankful, and peaceful, and sad all at once. One part of me feels sentimental about the end of Summer, my first year away from New Orleans and in a Real Job, and the recent and abrupt end of a chapter in my personal life that I haven't quite come to terms with yet.

Another part of me--the part that soon put down the coffee cup and spent the next 2 days baking, chopping, and basting--is impatient with all this reflection. I'm ready for the wisdom that comes from learning to be truly alive in a place I don't want to live, and for the confidence that comes from surviving my first year as an attorney in an occasionally-vicious industry. More than that, I'm ready to leave any self-doubt and heartache from the past year behind me.

But I do know that you can't force growth and maturity, no matter how ready you are to accept it. So I'm stuck with my sometimes-peaceful reflection and/or sadness, with occasional outbursts of purposeful joy and acceptance, until it all starts to come naturally again.

In the meantime, I can cook, and eat, and celebrate everything I possibly can, and Mr. Luz and I were able to do that this weekend at Obelisk in Dupont Circle. Formally, we were celebrating a seriously unexpected bonus from work hitting my bank account; informally, we were trying to take some time for ourselves and let the pure enjoyment of a perfectly executed 5-course tasting menu take precedent over all else.

If you get the chance, please go to Obelisk to celebrate something--anything. From Obelisk's crispy sardines and burrata antipastis and fresh, pillowy pasta courses (burrata is a fresh-cream-filled mozzarella from Italy that Obelisk only serves within 48 hours of its creation) to its bold entrees (including a wagyu beef sirloin), creamy complex cheese offerings, and its adventurous dessert combinations (ie: sour plum and caramel cream), you will be well cared for.

When you're at Obelisk, being treated to their warm service and divine ingredients, you're not thinking about your work schedule, or your cable bill. It's a place where you can be completely present in the flavors of your meal and the intimacy of good friends and family, and everyone deserves more of that in their lives.

PhotoCredit: Sklathill's Flickr page

New Home, At Last

Halo and Happy July!

Mr. Luz and I are mostly settled in our new apartment (an adorable row house 2 blocks from my work, our yoga place, and Mr. Luz's favorite Ethiopian coffee shop).

Papaya Blue once predicted that I would begin to appreciate D.C. when I recognize that some of things I love about New Orleans are also here in my new home, and I know she's right. (Hear that, Papaya?) Our new apartment and our new surroundings definitely remind me of the Good Life in the Big Easy, and I'm finally happy to be right where I am. We've managed to find an apartment and a neighborhood that is intimate, and cozy. Sometimes it feels like the sun shines brighter and the breeze seems sweeter on our little street. And though I find that so much of this city is superficial and all about undercutting something to get the competitive edge, the businesses and the people in our area strive for substance --we can find a dedicated yoga instructor, a sincere and passionate artist, or a dinner that's worth far more than the menu price right around the corner and on any given day.

And on the nights when I can sit out on my front patio and talk to one of our warm and wonderful neighbors as the lightening bugs float past, just enjoying the easy pace of the evening and the company of friends, I feel like I'm home.

Acadiana: D.C. Does Louisiana Cuisine with Passion and Elegance

I recently had the opportunity to dine at Acadiana, a D.C. restaurant that prides itself in "capturing the true spirit of Louisiana, a serendipitous blend of Old World traditions and New World resources" with 5 other D.C. foodbloggers.

To me, D.C. is better known for its behind-the-scenes politics than its restaurant scene. (I'd frankly refer to the attitude at many D.C. restaurants as "brazenly half-assed.") Thankfully, Acadiana exuberantly breaks that mold by putting flavorful food, interesting cocktails, and plush ambiance center stage. The restaurant clearly began with passion and vision and grew to what it is today through near-perfect execution; as a result, our dining experience was elegantly decadent with touches of the brash pride and unique ingredients associated with Louisiana cooking.

Acadiana's dining room (pictured to the right) has a clean art nouveau style that is classic and modern all at once. The decorative, highly stylized chandeliers, furnishings, and fabrics are instantly attractive without overwhelming the space. It was beautiful, and so comfortable that we managed to dine for over 3 hours without noticing how much time had passed in the presence of new friends and good food.

And when compared with the modernized ambiance, Acadiana's Specialty Cocktail list--another standout of the night--was so traditional that you could almost see the hurricane shutters and smell the brackish, humid air as you sipped your Sazerac (prepared with absinthe liquor, bitters, and rye whiskey) or your Pimm's Cup (with Pimm's-a gin-based liquor, citrus soda, and a cucumber garnish).

I started with an Abita Strawberry beer, made with Louisiana strawberries just outside of New Orleans and available only through mid-June. As we contemplated dinner, our server brought us a basket of buttermilk biscuits with a creole cream cheese and pepper jelly spread. The creole cream cheese was light, and tangy with just the right touch of spicy sweetness from the pepper jelly. And my biscuit was dense and buttery, but not flaky. In the South, I expect my biscuits to be so flaky and messy that it's almost embarrassing to eat them in the midst of strangers. And though Acadiana offers a more refined approach to traditional Louisiana food and I understand the more general appeal of its dishes, I personally would choose a bad ole' sinful biscuit over a well-behaved one any day.

Because my biscuit left me craving more of the deep South, I ordered an entire meal of dark, rich soups made with fresh Louisiana ingredients. My guests and I enjoyed our cocktails and chatted about foodblogging in D.C. while the chef sent out an amuse bouche to pique our interest in our dinner to come. The small plate had a crispy fried, southern vegetable pie with black pepper buttermilk sauce, and a side of spicy shrimp remoulade on a bed of greens (and both are available on the menu). The two dishes combined some traditionally Southern ingredients in new ways without making the Louisiana "classics" too fussy, and I very much enjoyed our little palate jumpstart.

After our amuse bouche, a veritable army of servers, hostesses, and kitchen staff presented our entire table with our appetizers--every one of us ordered the Trio of Soups. This is not to say that the rest of the appetizers did not sound amazing--we each struggled through at least two cocktails apiece before coming to our final decision. It is just very difficult for anything to compete with: turtle soup au sherry, roasted sweet corn and blue crab bisque, AND smoked chicken and andouille sausage gumbo. The turtle soup was fresh and darkly flavored with just a kick of acid to round out the gravy-like broth. The bisque was very flavorful, with the perfect consistency (not too thick, perfectly creamy). And the gumbo was mildly spiced and flavored with a smoky roux that satisfied with every bite.

Between our appetizer and entrees, I ordered a hurricane made with fresh fruit juices and light and dark rum. It was sweet, and boozy, and would probably be best as an aperitif or a digestif. (which is, coincidentally, how I enjoyed it after being too mesmerized by my entree to think about things like...drinking). My entree, like the meal itself, was a finessed version of a "throw everything in the soup pot and let it simmer for days" Louisiana classic. I ordered the Louisiana seafood gumbo, with jumbo lump crab, crawfish, oysters, and redfish with Louisiana rice. Acadiana makes its seafood gumbo with a super dark roux that was almost coffee-like in color and aroma, and I suspect that they add file powder because I tasted some sassafras as well. The seafood was plump, and fresh, and abundant.

My only criticism is that I should have asked the chef add some spice to my gumbo, because the one thing it was really lacking was any distinction from one bite to the next. A super rich gumbo like Acadiana's often lacks any acid to make the flavors really dance, but the addition of spicy red, black, and white pepper can add some layers to the dish. My palate is still more attune to the Southern way of doing things, so I missed that "zing" that I'm used to, but it was still an enjoyable dish that I encourage you to try if you want a little bit of Louisiana in your life.

This can also be said of Acadiana's charms, in general--it's perfect for anyone who is craving a little bit of Summer vacation as they grind through the Washington D.C. 7-day work week. Or if you just want to try something new or impress some visitors, it is a wonderful place to enjoy friends and family, some exciting cocktails, and some flavorful Louisiana cooking. And if you are from Louisiana and you've found yourself in D.C., you'll also love Acadiana for satisfying that yearning you have for home--just don't forget to ask for the "extra spicy" preparation.

Pickin' Crabs: Summertime is Finally Here

Last weekend was sunny and breezy, so Mr. Luz and I packed some friends into the car and drove out to Annapolis, Maryland to "pick some crabs."

Now, I'm from Missouri, and we just fry our seafood there, since it's probably taken at least 3 weeks to get to us and seen the inside of way too many freezers along the way.

So until I came to D.C., I'd never picked apart some poor, unsuspecting Maryland crab and snarfed it down with an extra helping of spicy, thymey Old Bay seasoning. Once you add in a bucket of coronas, and a dude with a guitar covering Jimmy Buffet, I've officially hit Zen.

These photos are from Mike's Crabhouse, which has been outside Annapolis, MD for 45 years. It's off a little inlet of the Chesapeake Bay, and when you sit on their huge deck overlooking the water, the rest of the world just melts away.
Something about Mike's brings me back to the vacations I spent with my family at the lake. We'd spend all day hanging out in our cutoff shorts in the sunshine or jumping off the deck of our rented pontoon boat to paddle around the lake. Everything was laid back, but it still felt like we were celebrating something special. In a way, we were just celebrating Summer.

If you're in the D.C. area, you should really head out to Annapolis and grab a picnic table and a dozen large crabs. (At Mike's, the waitresses will just sit down next to you and give you the speediest crab-shredding tutorial you'll ever see, so don't be sheepish if you've never done it before. Crab pickin' is work, and it's worth it.)

If you're somewhere else, take an evening this weekend to eat on an outdoor patio, or fill your cooler with some cold beer and grill. Do something, anything, to celebrate the return of the Summer months, and forget about everything else for a bit as you enjoy some sweet, easy flip-flop livin.'

Before, a dozen large Maryland CrabsAfter, pure carnage

Tales from the Office

True Story:

Magnificent Mallory: Have you been to Matchbox? (D.C. restaurant near my house).

Me: No, but my impression is that it's like Applebee's, but at Capitol Hill prices. Which, come to think of it, is the curse of many Capitol Hill restaurants. Check Yelp.com.

Magnificent Mallory: Yeah...I may be going there tonight. My friend really likes it, but she's..a Republican.

You are perfection, Ms. Magnificent.

Sticky Rice is so very H Street: Hip, Young, and Tasty!

I realize that I may be the only D.C. resident who did NOT have an awesome time over Inauguration weekend, but I probably overestimated my capacity for working my ass off at catering events while everyone else is having fun. Which is to say, it's my own damn fault. Whining aside, I've finally found time to write my review of D.C. sushi restaurant, Sticky Rice.

Sticky Rice is on H Street NE, in an area struggling to be known as The Atlas District as opposed to "you know, that stretch of town where cab drivers are too afraid to go." I have faith in H Street--any neighborhood with a rocking sushi bar, a New Orleans-style speakeasy, a fanciful burlesque theater, and a pirate-themed bar/restaurant offers a delightfully hip and decadent alternative to dive bars and Irish pubs, and is already attracting a loyal clientele.

The restaurant was packed on a Friday night, and the hostess quoted us a wait of over an hour. We sat at the bar instead, and though some Hill staffers decided to sing along with the Commodores at the top of their lungs over our shoulder during our entire meal, a little house sake numbed the pain.

Sticky Rice's menu shows restraint and creativity that's rarely seen at other sushi houses. (I often struggle at other places to discern the difference between a roll with eel, tempura, and green onion from another one with eel, crunchy, and scallion) And their specials are not to be missed. Mr. Luz, my dining partner for the evening and my lover for what I like to think will be life, started with an oyster shooter from the special menu. This "shooter" came in a rocks glass, filled to the brim with a large, shiny oyster layered with chilled vodka, sriracha, and roe. Mr. Luz was in heaven, and demanded to know how the bar made money giving drinks like that away for a mere $8.00. The special menu also listed Lamb "lollipops" with a cilantro crust, and a beef filet "sashimi" with sesame oil. Both looked and smelled amazing, and we're crossing our fingers that we can expect something similar on our next visit.

Also, Sticky Rice's vegetarian options are enough to make a "can I have your dry-aged Prime NY Strip steak medium rare" girl like myself consider turning to the dark side. I'm dying to try their South Roll (tempura fried sweet potato, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds.) And even their miso soup is friendly to carnivores and veggies alike: it packs a complex, earthy flavor without the bonito flakes.

After consulting with the bartenders and sharing 2 large sakes, we ordered the Sticky Balls, the Chili Roll, the G.I. Joe Roll, and the Godzirra roll (I know it's not PC, but just TRY ordering that without doing the eyes-bulging TV show announcer voice..."God-zeeee-rahhhhhhh!!" I bet you can't). I'm not usually a fan of sushi rolls that are covered in tempura and then fried, but the Sticky Balls worked: the spicy acidity of the sriacha complemented the richness you expect from a crab and tuna roll with eel sauce. No surprises, it was rich, flaky, and yummy--but perhaps best for sharing.

The G.I. Joe roll was fun, with yellowtail, cream cheese, scallions and crispy wasabi peas. The peas could have been puliverized a bit more--imagine the texture disurbance they cause in a mouthfull of cream cheese and yellowtail--but I'd definitely eat it again. In both the Godzirra and the G.I. Joe, the chef spread the cream cheese with a delicate hand, which I appreciate. If I want lox, I'll head to Scarsdale, grab a bagel and some schmear, and get a mani-pedi at the shopping mall while I'm at it.

If you take anything from this review, it should be that you MUST ORDER THE CHILI ROLL. Oh dear Lord--it's everything a dish should be. It's got some zing to it, and all of the flavors blend together into an overall impression without getting lost. The Chili Roll is tuna, matchstick cucumbers and jalepenos, cilantro and grilled pineapple. I plan on taking the Sticky Rice Thirty Day Challenge*, and I'm going to eat the Chili Roll every day. At $9 a pop, it's cheaper than therapy and you leave feeling feeling more blissed-out than you can believe.

After dinner, while the wannabe Capitol Steps screamed the lyrics to "Brick House" approx. 1.5 inches behind us, the bartender sent us another large sake on her, and the chef sent us a green tea mochi dessert on him. It's still unclear whether these gifts were because a.) we were eating like crazy at a place where some people just order the tater-tot bucket b.) I'll never be able to listen to the Commodores again without weeping uncontrollably, or c.) the bartender had twice forgotten our sake in the microwave. But we were happy to have them, and were too blissed-out from the Chili Roll to notice much. The mochi cakes were fantastic...the two grass-green cakes were served in Japanese dumpling spoons, and were chewy and soothing on the outside and icy on the inside without being too sweet.

After dinner, the couple to our right and the bartenders wanted to know why weren't staying for the big bar crowd that was sure to show up later. All I can say is, until take the 30 Day Challenge (*meaning I eat there every day for 30 days in an attempt to name and design my own roll) I can't see myself showing the discipline necessary to avoid a food coma at a place as delicious as Sticky Rice. Any suggestions on the name/design for my Sticky Rice roll? I'm thinking of a New Orleans theme (crawfish w/jambalaya rice on the outside?) but I'm open to suggestions!