where to eat in dc | le diplomate

I took French in high school because my Mom spoke near fluent Spanish, and I was too contrary for my own good. My brother smartly took Spanish when he was in high school, four years ahead of me. He and my mom would stand out on our back porch swatting at mosquitos as twilight neared, laughing and jabbering in Spanish. It sounds like I took French because I was jealous, but I just wanted to be different.

My french teacher, Ms. White, wore color as well as Washington politicians wear black and navy blue. She gave us extra credit on tests for using phrases like, "j'ai oublié tout mon français" - I forgot all my French - in lieu of answers we didn't know. Every semester, our class threw a petite fête that celebrated French food, music, and cinema. I haven't been as excited by and curious about French culture as I was during those parties since then.

Until I ate at Le Diplomate, the new French restaurant in Logan Circle here in DC.

Zander had reservations for three weeks. It's the "in" spot right now, and it deserves that accolade. House wine is served in carafes and half-carafes, in true European fashion. One long booth brings patrons together, and only a small separation of the tables keeps parties intimate and apart.

I raved all night long. I loved the large, open bar space that feels communal, and I loved the simple touches - a frosty cool glass of dry French rose, the bread table that I wanted to reach out and touch, the impeccable service, and mouth-watering menu. Zan started with the beet salad (poorly pictured above), while I opted for the hot asparagus soup (also poorly pictured above). He loved the beet salad, but I swear to you Scout's Honor style that the asparagus soup is one of the single best courses I have ever tasted. I think he had first course remorse, personally.

Zan chose the duck breast with duck confit and a farro salad for his main course. I've had great duck, but this takes the blue ribbon. The thinly sliced duck breast is succulent, a perfect medium rare, and flavored so nicely I wonder if they couldn't make a savory candy out of it. 

I chose a traditional dish: steak frites. The pat of garlic butter melts instantly on the seared steak and drizzles down the sides. Some may think it's too garlicky, but I say that's impossible. The fries, delicious as they were, may have been the meal's only bite short of perfection; they were over-salted. I would eat this meal every day if our hearts were built for it.

Stuffed to overflowing, we couldn't imagine ordering dessert. And then we did. It took us three weeks to get into this place, who knows when we might be able to do it again! The dark chocolate Napoleon is a beautiful, slightly complicated sight. It marries a dark chocolate ice cream with a cookie crunch and places it beside paper thin sheets of dark chocolate sandwiching milk and dark chocolate mousse all on top of a cookie. Zander licked the plate. He beat me to it.

Ms. White introduced me to France, and Le Diplomate took me there for an evening. Next step, a plane ticket straight to Paris.