where to eat in dc | roofers union

Roofers Union, the newest restaurant to grace 18th Street in Adams Morgan, takes elevated food and makes it approachable - in portion sizes, taste, and price point. For instance, Zan loves sweetbreads, and I shudder at the very thought. But at Roofers Union, they've taken the fancy schmancy food and made it into a po'boy sandwich. And you know what? It's delicious! The $12 price-tag doesn't make me cringe, either.

It's the sort of restaurant that falls right into my comfort zone. It feels blue-collar with the old union uniforms hung on the walls, refurbished wood, a bar with standing room only, and a few TVs playing the sporting event of the day. But it has the careful, thoughtful finishes of an upscale restaurant, too - like the wine list curated by someone in the know, a beer list that's even better than the wine list, dishes like the sweetbread po'boy that poke fun of fancy but embrace it, too, and floor-to-ceiling bay windows that create an ambiance of romance, if that's what you want to find.

Roofers Union is under the same owners as Zan's and my neighborhood wine bar, Ripple. My favorite part of the connection to Ripple is that the two restaurants share a chef - Marjorie Meek-Bradley. When she first arrived at Ripple, she offered a bar menu with options like a chicken sandwich and a lamb burger. While Ripple is our go-to spot for wine, we rarely eat there because of the food prices and options (upscale). I was so excited to see a new bar menu that appealed to my tastes, but before we even had a chance to try it, it disappeared. I've only met the chef very casually once or twice in Ripple, and while I don't know her, I have a hunch that the Roofers Union menu is really her style. And if so, I love her style.

The standout dishes for us were the crispy brussels sprouts - fried just to perfection, the sausage trio (the chicken sausage with a pretzel roll was absolute, total heaven, and I will become a regular for that sandwich alone!), and the sriracha-honey glazed chicken thigh sandwich. They offer the same glaze on chicken wings. That sandwich is money, the glaze is crack, and I can only imagine that if I try the wings, I'll never be the same again.

If I had to pick one thing for Roofers Union to work on - it'd be the fries. Ripple's fries have been rumored to be fried in duck fat, truffle oil, and all sorts of other, wonderful things. They are, hands down, some of the best fries in the city. If Roofers Union brought those over, too, it would - without a doubt - be my new favorite restaurant in DC.

where to eat in dc | the red hen

Zan and I spent the afternoon in Georgetown. We didn’t get out of bed until 11, and then we lounged in sweatpants on the couch until 12:30, when Zan went back to bed for a nap. By 2:00pm we were finally dressed and ready to escape cabin fever before it set in. We found parking on a side street right off of Wisconsin Avenue – and somehow, I’m going to jinx us by saying this – we always find parking right there, at just about the same spot, every time we go to Georgetown. It’s a small huge Saturday gift.

We wandered through Frye and Patagonia with no place to be – sipping hot drinks and breathing in the smell of possibilities. Every time I’m in a Patagonia, I feel more adventurous, more sporty, more fit. That’s incredible branding.

Eventually, we made our way to the movie theater (but not without stopping first at the Spice and Tea Exchange for fresh thyme and garlic). We saw Her and talked endlessly after about the beautiful, sticks-with-you script. After, we debated where to go for dinner, but it was never really a question. So we drove all the way across town to my old neighborhood, Bloomingdale, for dinner at the newest “it” spot: The Red Hen.

We got there after 8:30 – a late dinner – and still there was a 2 hour wait for a table. We opted to sit at the bar instead and still waited 40 minutes for seats. I sipped on Prosecco as Zan rotated through nearly their entire list of orange wines. I’ve never seen a wine list with so many orange options. It’s such a funky wine – every one I’ve ever tried – but I dig it.

When we finally got seats, we didn’t waste time putting in our order. We shared a bottle of our favorite of the orange wines and started the meal with a beet salad for him and the Brussels sprouts for me. I don’t usually like beet salads, but the mint and caper vinaigrette kept me coming back for a few more bites. The Brussels were crispy with dill and an anchovy aioli. I wasn’t sure what to think when I read the description, but it goes to show I should think less and try more. They were delicious.

For our main courses, I was torn between several but had to try the much-raved about rigatoni with fennel sausage. I’ve seen it listed as one of the best dishes in DC on several local sites. After my first bite, I described it to Zan as, “better than I could make at home!” Reading that back now, I’m laughing, but I make homemade sauces and cook with Italian sausage so often that I have it down to an art form (for my taste buds at least!). I struggle ordering pasta at restaurants because I always think I could recreate it and should try something I can’t cook on my own. This dish blew anything I could even attempt out of the water.

Zan tried the grilled short ribs with “potato puree.” So he had ribs and mashed potatoes. It was beautifully presented and so deep with flavor that it deserves the fancier name. We finished our bottle of wine for dessert.

It was such a fun dinner. Lately, with so much stress from studying for the GRE and applying to grad school, traveling, and getting his place ready to rent behind us, we’ve been having so much fun together. Fun like we don’t have a care in the world. We may not get many times in life to feel so care-free, and I’m relishing every second of it.

It didn’t hurt that The Red Hen is completely beautiful with an atmosphere that demands care-free fun. The bar is a wide, open arc. The wood fire stove is visible from any spot in the whole place. It smells of homemade sauces and rich meats. It’s romantic without trying too hard to be so. It feels organic, just like the Saturdays we’ve been having lately.

bearnaise | where to eat in dc

"I figured it out!" Zander and I yelled in unison as we walked out of Bearnaise, a new steak frites restaurant from celebrity chef Spike Mendelsohn in Capitol Hill.

We talked over each other with our theories, laughing, hurriedly walking and shivering to the car. It went from an everlasting summer to an intemperate fall in DC in a matter of seconds, it seems.

We were talking about the table next to us at dinner - two women chatting up a storm, and a man scarfing down his food - and wine even faster - and barely saying a word. The two women seemed like friends who were still getting to know each other at times, and at others like long lost soulmates, finding their way back to one another.

As we received our soup or salad course - the first of three in the prix fixe menu - the group next to us were finishing theirs. The older of the two women, dressed fashionably in a black shawl and boots with sleek, straight hair, flirted with the server just enough to get the extra touches: "try this sauce," and "maybe I should get you soup instead of a salad."

Zan and I communicated verbally about our soups - I savored every bit of the salty cheese and carmelized onions in my French Onion, and he lauded the unique balance of flavors in the creamy fall vegetable soup he tried. And we talked nonverbally about the interesting table next to us... They were fairly loud and boisterous - an excited energy about them.

"What's their story?" we silently asked each other.

We got a few clues throughout the meal.

We observed the table order mussels and banter over whose sauce was best while we chowed down on 14 ounce ribeyes. I couldn't finish mine, but I made a valiant attempt that left me over-the-top (of my jeans) full. But it was seasoned just right, and the server was weirdly brusque when I asked his opinion about the four sauces offered with the steak frites, "I don't know. I just don't like it." But he was wrong about the spicy bearnaise, and it was delectable.

Meanwhile, the younger woman got up to use the restroom, and the older woman engaged the guy - it seemed like she wanted to get to know him. And she referenced a flight in the morning - was she here for work, or specifically to see these two?

The server swerved around to the mystery table, who were enjoying two desserts, and the older woman - I think she was a city woman through and through - maybe from New York? - she said the spices were strange in the apple tart, and that brusque server turned smiley and sweet and wouldn't take no for an answer and brought them mousse instead. 

For the record, we had the apple tart, and the pumpkin spice in it was unique but it worked and it tasted like apple and fall and Halloween and Thanksgiving all rolled into one.

By the time we left, they were still chatting - the two women that is - and the lone ranger braving it alone at the far end of the table. As we put on our coats, we saw the older woman put down a credit card for the entire table.

"The guy is definitely the younger girl's boyfriend," I said as we neared the car. "But was he an awkward third wheel, or was he there to specifically meet the older woman?"

"I think they are sisters, and the older one is in town to meet the younger woman's new boyfriend," Zan finished his theory as we opened the doors.

I nodded. I had a hunch he might be right.

Sometimes, I'm not sure if my favorite part of trying a new restaurant is the food or the people watching. At Bearnaise, both were spectacular.

if you go...

Bearnaise

price range: $23-50/person

side dish pick: bearnaise sauce drizzled brussels sprouts

tip: all wine bottles are $40, including sparkling!

life lately

I'm in the thick of studying for the GRE, hanging on to new-old math concepts by a thread, and keeping up with growing freelance work commitments, while trying to thrive at my day job. I'm rediscovering the joy of Earl Gray tea in the morning to ease my eyes and mind open. I bought Boar's Head bologna this week and indulged in a fried bologna sandwich to take me back to Georgia. I'm settling into the present, looking forward to my fast-approaching 18-day trip to Ecuador, and finding comfort in cooler days and the anticipation of baked apple goods. Life is slower lately, and that's hard for me to accept, but I'm working on it.

1. Ryan shot a picture of me during my birthday dinner at Marietta in Brooklyn, and I love it.
2. Zander and I are still in a New York State of Mind after our incredible weekend in Brooklyn with friends. We broke out our Old Man Hustle koozie at a friend's housewarming party and shot a selfie to the NY crew.
3. We met baby Allie, our friends' 6-week-old newborn, at a "meet the baby" party last weekend. This picture says it all.
4. ...And then my friend Sarah & Zan recreated the picture later that night.
5. Zan and I met up with his brother & sister-in-law for a few drinks and a competitive game of shuffleboard at Bedrock Billiards in Adams Morgan last weekend. Have I mentioned lately how much I love having them so close by?
6. Zan & I have been spending a lot of time in the DC neighborhood Mt. Pleasant. It's quirky, diverse, and is ruled by a tricycle shrine. We're thinking we might call this area home come next February.
7. I ate my first ever Cuban sandwich at Mi Cuba Cafe in Columbia Heights. It's a perfect weekend lunch spot.
8. Sunday evening, Zan & I had an adventure in the Maryland suburbs. I bought a bike! And while we were there, we devoured the best pad kee mao (Thai drunken noodles) I've had in the DC area at Thai House in Gaithersburg.
9. My friends and old colleagues at the Feminist Majority Foundation and Ms. magazine, based out of Los Angeles, invited me to their annual Money, Women, Power Summit luncheon held in DC. Nancy Pelosi and other major women leaders who work every day to advance equal rights for women and girls around the world spoke, and it was an honor to be in their presence.

What's life like for you lately? If you have some time to spare, I love this post from Mel on the season of tea.

where to eat in dc | al dente

Italians value food as pleasure and meals as luxurious affairs. During a recent meal at Al Dente, an Italian restaurant from renowned chef Roberto Donna in the Friendship Heights neighborhood of DC, I transcended mortal satiation and entered a kind of food nirvana, blissful and gratified off fresh mozzarella, the rolling names of pasta varieties, dry wine, and coffee-drenched ladyfingers. 

Zander and I started the meal with complimentary fresh bread and olive oil. The bread basket includes white and wheat bread and the star, Al Dente's Italy-certified pizza crust, for dipping. Already impressed, my burgeoning fandom grew in leaps and bounds when handed the wine menu. Attached to the robust wine list was a selection of local Virginia wines from vineyards small and large, ones I've visited and some of which I hadn't yet heard. Even more astounding, nearly every bottle was in the $30-$40 range, an incredibly reasonable price tag with minimal markup. We chose a dry Viognier from Delaplane Cellars. After one glass, I added Delaplane to my list of must-visit wineries.

We opted to start light with a sharable heirloom tomato salad dressed with onions, fresh basil, gorgonzola dressing and balsamic reduction. Unfortunately, our salad never arrived, and once handed our entrees, we opted to skip it. I have no doubt it would have been fresh and delicious, but I'll have to wait for another chance to taste it.

Zander quickly chose the parsley spaghettini entree with soft shell crab, cherry tomatoes, fresh basil, and garlic. The house made pasta came out piping hot, cooked perfectly al dente, and bursting with flavor from the parsley and herbs. I took one bite to try it... and then a second, third, and fourth because I couldn't stop. It was delicious and portioned just large enough to justify the whopping $25.95 cost.

After tasting the charred outside, soft on the inside pizza crust in our bread basket, I needed to taste the whole pizza. I ordered the Salsiccia e Rapini with tomato, smoked mozzarella, pork sausage, broccoli rabe, and garlic. Because I can never resist prosciutto, I added that on ($3). I was stuffed after the first slice, but the fresh cheese and garlic, oh the garlic! kept drawing me back in for more. At $12.95, the pizza is the best deal on the menu and some of the best (if not the best) pizza cooked in the authentic Italian tradition that I've had in DC... or anywhere.

We passively accepted dessert menus, assuming we'd skip it, until our eyes landed on the homemade tiramisu. I can never say no to it. It's a decadent dessert that doesn't rely solely on sugar. It's a balance of bittersweet cocoa and espresso aromas, ladyfingers and a tantalizingly smooth texture. And Al Dente's inimitable, uniquely shaped version, served with a warm chocolate sauce, had me rolling my eyes back with true Italian pleasure.

if you go...

al dente menus

i hear the brunch is particularly good

beware the over-attentive service (a better problem than inattentive service)

there's a free parking garage at night 

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.

brunch at boundary stone | where to eat in dc

You know those brunches when two hours pass in a matter of seconds, it seems, and the food is just right, and the mimosa glasses are never empty, and you're laughing too hard to remember to take pictures to document every sip and bite on your blog? Man, they don't happen often enough. But I relish them when they do. I relish every moment like that - so present and alive and buzzing with energy and friendship. I live for that.

I had one of those brunches a few weekends ago at Boundary Stone in Bloomingdale. I've been a fan of the whiskey bar since it opened a few years back. It arguably has the best wings in the District, the entrance is through an old barn door, the beer is local, they always have bubbly on hand, and it's in one of my favorite neighborhoods. For the too-short time that I lived in Bloomingdale, I frequented their happy hour ($4 wings), and Zander and I occasionally stopped in for a night cap. It's a neighborhood bar that welcomes you home, even if it's your first time there.

When my girlfriends Clare and Sara and I met up to try their new full-service brunch with a bottomless drink option, I didn't know what to expect. The food has always been great, but I couldn't put my mind around exactly how brunch would work. It works well.

I arrived at noon, and the restaurant was full but not overflowing. I waited, looking like a wallflower, for five minutes as a couple sitting at a booth inside paid. A friendly server noticed me eying the table and quickly cleared and cleaned it for me to sit. I ordered bottomless mimosas while I waited for my girlfriends to arrive. And they. are. strong. I'd expect nothing less from the Stone. If they're going to charge $12 for bottomless mimosas, they're not going to hand you a glass of orange juice with a splash of champagne - they care about quality too much. They also used fresh orange juice, and the difference it makes is huge.

Sara and Clare and I ordered seitan wings to share, and I discovered that vegetarian "meat" isn't as scary as it looks. Then again, I'd probably gnaw on a tree trunk if it were covered in their wing sauce. At some point - oh, 30, 45 minutes, maybe an hour later - we finally got around to looking at the brunch menu and ordering. I tried the chorizo sandwich ($13). It's served with a fried egg and green salsa on top and roasted breakfast potatoes on the side. If I could have fit another sandwich in my full stomach, I would have ordered a second. Clare had the vegetable quiche and gave it rave reviews. Sara ordered off the lunch menu and tried the half smoke - also delicious.

We drank and talked for so long that when Zander came to pick me up (sweet boyfriend!), he ended up joining us for a little bit.

Sometimes I forget that having brunch isn't just about the newest restaurant or the hottest scene or the best chef in town. It's really easy to get caught up in wanting to try everything and photograph it all along the way. Having brunch with Clare and Sara was my favorite brunch I've had in ages. It was about sharing an experience more than experiencing the food. Though, it doesn't hurt that the food was damn good, too. And those mimosas. I'm still rehydrating after those.

if you go...

boundary stone

116 rhode island ave nw

@boundarystonedc

fiola | where to eat in dc

 the bar at Fiola

Every once in a while, you need to shut down your inner voice saying, "It costs how much?" and experience decadence. It's an incredibly difficult thing for me to do. I'm hopelessly reasonable when it comes to finances. (If only I could transfer some of that reasonableness to, say, any other area of my life!) When it comes to money, Zander and I complement each other. He appreciates good food and good wine and the beauty of occasional indulgences. He appreciates the restorative - emotionally, physically, and mentally - powers of a good meal. He knows that romance lies beyond a glass (or two) of Prosecco at an intimate bar. All the while, I keep him grounded - sometimes you have to find that romance in things far more practical and light on the wallet. 

But this blog post isn't about practical. It's about that romance and indulgence at an intimate bar. It's about Fiola Da Fabio Trabocchi, one of D.C.'s most sough after, romantic, delicious dining experiences. 

For our first visit we opted to sit at the bar. We started with a few glasses of wine; we just barely missed the happy hour that ends at 6:00. We started with the bar menu, comprised of elevated takes on typical bar food. We tried most of the menu, starting with the Mozzarella - Neapolitan buffalo mozzarella fritters. The salty Parmesan, the crispy breading, the flavorful mozzarella, the light marina sauce spooned in the bottom of the bowl all came together to form one of the best appetizers I've ever tasted. I almost ordered another serving.

Next, we tried La Piadina - grilled flatbread with proscuitto and stracchino cheese. I really enjoy Italian cheeses, is what I've discovered. The above-average sized portion was filling - I had to wait a while to order the next bite. To say this wasn't our favorite dish of the evening should hold no credence - it's great, it just didn't pack as much flavor as the others.

Our final appetizer was the veal meatballs. These succulent, moist meatballs are covered with tomato and a sunny side up egg. I kissed my fingers and threw them in the air with appreciation. Zander would come back to Fiola just for these. I would, too.

If you're wondering just how much food two people can eat in the course of one evening looking at these pictures, so am I. Apparently, it's a lot. Zander ordered the oysters before his entree. From the sound of him throwing them back, they're a winner, too.

For his entree, Zan tried the Tortellini of Cotechino Sausage with oyster mushrooms, veal sweetbreads, and green asparagus. I tried a bite of the broth and a tortellini, and even I - who am squeamish about sweetbreads, truly enjoyed it. The tortellini is rich and filling, the sweetbreads not overpowering, and the asparagus adds a great crunch to round off the dish. He loved it.

Now let's talk about this burger. It might odd that I went to a fine-dining Italian restaurant and ordered a burger, but would it be as strange if I told you it's quite possibly the best burger I've ever had? It really was. I have daydreamed about that burger. The $22 behemoth is a tenderloin patty topped with smoked provolone cheese, pancetta (swoon), and con fit tomato, and is served with rosemary fries. After all the food we'd had over the course of a few hours, I couldn't eat more than half of it, but Zan was more than happy to help me polish it off. The rosemary adds a nice flavor to the fries, though they were just a tad too salty.

Zan and I left with a tab that nearly made me faint, but a meal like this - that transports you to Italy for an evening, and lavishes you with flavor and decadence that make you close your eyes to savor each bite, it's worth it every once in a while.

if you go... 

fiola

601 pennsylvania ave nw

bar menu

happy hour: 4-6

dinner menu