saigonique

Last Friday evening's temperature gave way to the perfect night to take a stroll outside, dine al fresco, and lick melting ice cream from my finger tips.

Chuti and I headed up to Shirlington to have dinner at the newly opened Saigonique: Authentic Vietnamese cuisine restaurant. It would be unfair to judge on the authenticity of their cuisine, as I'm only versed in the pho bowls and vermicelli; but here is my humble take on the establishment.

The walls painted in deep red with splashes of white table clothes throughout the dining room. The ambiance radiated a feeling of being in a Thai restaurant; whatever that means. Walking past the dining patrons, I looked at and smelled the dishes being served. The aroma was pleasant but my gaze was left wandering. From the glimpses of food on neighboring tables, the portions looked huge so I opted to order an appetizer and soup.

I ordered the banh mi; traditionally a cold cut sandwich with an assortment of pickled vegetables on a french baguette, so when I told the waiter that I had ordered the banh mi and not what he brought me, he said that that was what I ordered. The "finger sandwich" was deep-fried and tasted much like the shrimp cakes Chuti gets at Thai Lemongrass. Not bad, but not what I expected. As for the soup, I chose the Saigon Egg Noodles with shrimp and pork. The broth tasted like it was overseasoned with MSG. I will say this though, they used quality ingredients and points are given for cleanliness. I told Chuti that a revisit would not be imminent but overhearing the next table talking about the "caramelized" dishes being the most authentic dishes on the menu, I may go back for a taste.

As for the service, the FOH staffers seemed eager to please, but unfortunately fell short in the execution and I felt my personal space being invaded a few times by our server. Dude, don't touch my chopsticks! Although it wasn't al fresco dining, they did have palm fans on the ceiling swaying back and forth. I didn't have my camera with me so my phone had to do.


Afterwards, we strolled across to Maggie Moos for some ice cream. I had vanilla bean with Oreo cookies and brownies. I asked for fudge but that meant I would have had to eat it from a cup and where's the fun in that? mm...mooyummy...

bazin's on church

She began her culinary career bussing tables at Bazin's on Church in Vienna, Virginia. A series of unfortunate events; ripping off a nickel sized piece of skin from her index finer and sipping wine on her shift, and her lack of upper body strength, cut her employment short. But she was not discouraged, she picked herself up to continue working in the food industry as the world's best jalapeno dicer...And so my biography will go. Funny thing, this wasn't my shortest "paid" job. I recall a three-week stint as a contractor with a large IT company a few years back, but I digress.

Located on the Historic Church Street in Vienna, Bazin's is a quaint but chic neighborhood restaurant offering good food and great wine. For a pre-concert dinner, Court and I feasted on a roasted beet salad, pan-roasted black cod, and wild mushroom risotto paired with a glass of red. Court's a zinfandel and mine a malbec. Duo-colored beets came dressed in a passion fruit vinaigrette on a bed of arugula sprinkled with candied orange zest and dollops of goat cheese; a classic combination. Maple-miso glazed the black cod which was served with wasabi mashed potatoes, sauteed baby spinach, and tamari cream. I would have been satisfied with less cream. The risotto was perfectly cooked (I have a tendency of being served undercooked risotto) topped off with punchy parmesan. One caveat, the onions could have been chopped a finer, but that's just a technicality. They would just need to hire me as their prep cook. For dessert, we had the Peanut Butter Mousse tarte; the chocolate sorbet tasted like chocolate flavored water. I like the cream version better. Personally, I prefer my food "bland" and Bazin's doesn't skimp on seasoning. Delicious nonetheless and will suit most American palates.

Now would be a great time to visit, Chef Patrick is planning to give the menu a make-over later this week. I foresee another visit sooner than later.

tyrone wells @ jammin' java

After Bazin's. Got there just in time as Tyrone took the stage. Wonderful voice, beautiful songs (that would make any girl a "jealous woman"), and he's not bad to look at either. A fun show with quite a few laughs, intentional and not. A great venue for "intimate" concerts.

su mi ma sen

I've lived in Korea for 12 years and had never taken a trip to our neighboring country, Japan. So when I went on a business trip to Korea last month, I decided to give Nippon a try.

I didn't do much sightseeing, but walked a lot through the city; watching people, smelling the streets (smells a lot like Korea), and eating. It was the little stuff that I will remember most about Kyoto.

My first meal in Kyoto: A delicious bowl of Chinese Ramen. A typical hole-in-the-wall noodle house; limited seating, packed with fashionable teenagers and suits getting off work, and a line of hungry people waiting to be seated. As I walked in solo, the host/server/busser eyed couple of empty chairs at occupied tables and asked (I assumed) if I wouldn't mind sitting at a table with another patron. Plopping myself down in the chair, my dazed and confused look and flailing hand gestures must have been an indication that I did not understand him, I found a laminated English menu make its way in front of me. Two minutes after pointing to my selection, I was face deep in the steaming bowl of noodles.

100 yen for a "fairly good" fortune which I keep in my wallet. The quiet oases of temples tucked away amidst the bustling downtown streets.

Tako-yaki. Sake. The smell of fish permeating through the Nishiki Food Market. Not only did Kyoto smell like Korea, it felt like it too. Despite the language barrier, I never felt out of place, except for the time when a waitress at a local pub yelled at me for keeping my shoes on. So when in doubt, remember, "su mi ma sen!"

a lavender mineral bath soak

Is what I look forward to on Saturday evenings. Tired, sweaty, and swollen after my once-a-week shift at FM, a nice braise in the tub is relaxing. For the past few weeks, I had only been working a partial shift. You can say I've been getting spoiled. If Chef asks me if I want to go home, I don't say no. Today, I was getting my butt kicked. I was assigned dicing duties for the first couple of hours which left me with a fresh blister on the side of my index finger. I'm working my way to a permanent chef's callus. (Strange thing, my fingers started getting numb after two hours of knife work. ) While I did my best to keep up, I burnt myself several times with the occasional hot oil treatment to the face. But all in all, it was a good productive day; though my fingers are still burning from chopping jalapenos.

cafe du parc

After finishing up the cocktail, the librarian and I headed across the lobby to Cafe Du Parc. We pass the empty bar to the hostess table where we are greeted and shown to our table in the dining area upstairs. The open kitchen is the first thing you see with a minimal seating area to the left and right. It was DC restaurant week, so we opted to order off the "limited" menu. Crab and leek salad and pate as appetizers; crispy pork as the entree; and apricot panna cotta and strawberry tart with frommage de blanc for dessert. A thick toast-size slab of pate with globs of aspic on the side arrived in front of me. Oh how appetizing it looked! I barely got through a quarter of it before I passed it along to the librarian who polished it off. The half of the crab salad helped rid of the lingering livery taste in my mouth. Sipping on Cote du Rhone and listening to Chris Sarandon in the next booth flirting with the hostess, our entrees arrived. The best part of the main was the buttery haricot verts that came in individual mini oven casserole tins. If you're looking for a pork fat fix, head over to Restaurant Eve and have their famous house-cured pork belly.

The most memorable part of the evening was seeing the awesome view of DC from Hotel Washington's Sky Terrace and watching a midnight-runner in biker shorts playing catch me if you can with the park sprinklers and daintily running off into the night. Apparently this made the librarian uncomfortable; but I sure had a good laugh.

willard's mint julep

So the mint julep tastes nothing like a mojito even with its deceptive look-a-like facade. I was searching for the sweet when it was pointed out a dust of granulated sugar on the gingerly placed mint sprig atop the frozen glass of bourbon slushy. Then something else was brought to my attention, the price of the thirst quencher. Let's just say I made sure to drink the last drop. I probably should have eaten the mint and lemon twist too.