2007.08.05.
Ardeo/Bardeo, Cleveland Park, Washington, DC
On a recommendation, mikey6 and I trekked out to Ardeo for Restaurant Week and I was pleasantly surprised. The Ardeo half was packed, and in our infinite impatience we chose to sit on the Bardeo side: wooden, dark, a starkly lovely contrast to the babble and white tablecloths next door. An unadventurous eater (rather, just inexperienced, and now subject to my encroaching influence — muahaha), he shunned the chicken liver pate that I heartily slathered on slice after slice of bread, and stuck to a burger and caesar salad, both of which pleased him. He also graciously enjoyed the (friggin’ $10) mandarin Hangar One I bought him, hopefully more than my $13 (!!!!!) Hendrick’s.
That said, the food was fantastic. Either I chose my courses wisely or the chef and his staff are textural geniuses. (I will dig up and attach photos of such, since I neglected to describe them here.) It was by far the most satisfying meal during this round of Restaurant Week.
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2007.08.06.
Leopold’s Kafe, Georgetown, Washington, DC
It was 95 degrees outside (105 degree heat index), yet I hauled myself on the one-mile journey to Leopold’s Kafe. It is a painfully hip but ultimately comfortable space radiating Austrian sensibility, with pleasing straight lines disguising curves all around (think rounded rectangle, and orange, everywhere). I settled on a refreshing, beautifully colored and strangely filling mint and yogurt chilled pea soup and ate a minuscule amount of my smoked salmon pizzette. And how could I forget my first reasonably good espresso since arriving on this coast, topped with a perfect dollop of foam?
Though it is littered with the leisure-bound wives of the moneyed elite, I’d happily sip coffee here every day, but the temptation for pastries or savories would probably end up depleting my will and wallet both.
(I did end up returning later that week for post-dinner sweets, which were not quite as impressive as they looked. However, my companion and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, staring out into the cobblestone alley, swathed in orange, away from the sticky 80 degree nighttime heat, my fingers secure in their embrace with a Julius Meinl demitasse.)
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2007.08.07.
1789, Georgetown, Washington, DC
Sadly, all I recorded for this entry was “Chopin’s nocturne, op. 9 no. 2.”
I do remember that the service was absolutely stellar and flawlessly transparent. The well-appointed dining room was filled with polite voices, business-casual-church-attire and pristine place settings so squeaky clean that I had to shrug off an air of hussy-ness while flying solo in my normally suitable tank and white skirt. The meal proceeded seamlessly from course to course, and while each dish (that I don’t remember, go figure) was perfectly executed, there was something about the flavor combinations that didn’t quite pull themselves together. They did send me home with five cheeses for dessert, though, and a remarkably fair price (again, Restaurant Week).
