The interwebs will cower before us

If you read my blog with any semblance of regularity, you've undoubtedly noticed that my wonderful boyfriend accompanies me on many of my culinary and cultural forays. Well, in addition to being my favorite co-adventurer, Jason happens to be an excellent writer. Everyone should check out his brilliant new blog, This Inevitable and Unenviable March.

On my bookshelf

I have always been interested in the anthropology of food - the way our relationship with food can illustrate broader cultural themes, and, inversely, the ways in which societal shifts and fissures get reflected in the way we eat. Because it is so fundamentally universal, the topic of food proffers enormous potential for understanding the variety of the human experience. It only makes sense then, that the issues of our time - our collective triumphs and struggles - are being increasingly reflected in the works of some of our country's best food writers.

That's why I find the Best Food Writing anthology series to be one of the most intelligent collections of its kind. Year after year, editor Holly Hughes presents a trove of writing that is not just eloquent, but also intensely reflective of our times, and this year's Best Food Writing 2007 is no exception.

This year's selection includes works by Anthony Bourdain, Frank Bruni, and Barbara Kingsolver, as well lots by lesser-known folks, like the Washingtonian's very own Todd Kliman. Hughes divides them into thematic categories, such as Food Fights, The Meat of the Matter, and Why I Cook. In Food Fights, for example, Barry Estabrook turns a critical eye toward such issues as chefs' often disingenuous obsession with local ingredients in his essay "Local Heroes?" Perhaps most striking is a category Hughes labels "Fast Food," wherein three out of the four essays are about the authors' - all of them non-Hispanics - seeking out their respective cities' best taqueria. (The fourth essay examines the variety of monikers by which hot dogs are known to Rhode Islanders. The essay is called "Don't Call It a Hot Dog" - oops- and is written by Joe Yonan, formerly of the Boston Globe, who was recently named the WaPo's new food section editor.)

Filled with such smartly observed essays, this series reminds me all over again why I was drawn to writing about food in the first place, and what our relationship with food can teach us about ourselves and our culture. All in all, it's a literary feast.

Hot food for a cold day

Oenophile that I am, I've been super excited to check out DC's newest addition to the wine bar craze, Cork, and had made plans to go after work yesterday. Few things can compete with my mildly obsessive interest in chronicling the best this city has to offer in the way of wine flights, cheese selections, and charcuterie. (See previous post on Dupont's Veritas). As if I needed further incentive, Cork's menu boasts a pretty decent selection of entrees (or what they call "hot plates"), and dishes like Red-Wine Braised Lamb with pomegranate, radicchio, and spinach beckon.

But yesterday, it was cold. And windy. And to be completely honest, I just didn't feel like trekking across town for my dinner, delicious as it might've been. So, although few things can compete with wine and cheese, fabulous Indian food is most definitely one of those things, specifically the elegant fare turned out by Heritage India in Dupont Circle.

So we turned our wind-burned cheeks to the north and braved the nasty weather for the couple blocks between my office and the restaurant, the promise of warm naan and spicy curries sustaining us through the chill.

Once inside Heritage's uniquely decorated dining room (think soothing peach tones, low lighting, and a giant bronze Buddha statue), we settled into a table for two and ordered drinks (a SoCo Sour for Jason, and a Maharani cocktail for me - made of peach schnapps, orange juice, Grey Goose, and white sparkling wine.) With the drinks warming our cheeks, we turned to the menu, which is a rather intriguing mix of contemporary Indian tapas-style dishes (like grilled Tandoori mozzarella, tomato, and basil), and more traditional offerings like kabobs and curries.

We started with an order of pleasantly salty Garlic Naan, and from there, I ordered the Chicken Tikka Masala, and Jason went with the Lamb Vindaloo. The chicken was unbelievably tender, accented by the tang of the creamy and spicy masala sauce. And lo and behold, Jason's Vindaloo was sufficiently fiery, which is a victory in and of itself. I can also vouch for the Tandoori Chicken, marinated in a savory tomato-yoghurt sauce, which I enjoyed during a previous visit to the restaurant.

Our server (who was attentive without being overbearing, by the way) brought us dessert menus, but there simply wasn't room. It was that good.

Good to know: Heritage India is located at 1337 Connecticut Ave, almost directly across from the South entrance of the Dupont Circle Metro on the Red Line.

Photo of Heritage India's Saag Paneer by Flickr user Il Primo Uomo.

A Cheeser Teaser

I promise that an in-depth review of Penn Quarter's fantastic cheese shop, Cowgirl Creamery (pictured above) is forthcoming following some, er, comparative research at area competitor Cheesetique in Del Ray. Promise.

Photo by Flickr user Eye Captain.

Thainatown

Chinatown may seem like a counterintuitive place to find great Thai food. Yet tucked among the Chinese food joints (which, by the way, are growing more and more rare as places like Zengo and Matchbox take over the neighborhood), there is Kanlaya, an exquisite jewel box of a Thai restaurant.

I actually can't take credit for finding this one. My sister and Megan came across Kanlaya when they were in town, exploring the Chinatown area. She's been raving about it since, so it's been on the list of places to track down.

In the mood for something light, I had the sweet and spicy Tom Yum Goong soup, with shrimp and mushrooms in a tangy lemongrass broth, which definitely hit the spot on a chilly February afternoon. I also had the Yum Gai Krob salad, comprised of bits of crispy chicken with onion, celery, pineapple, tomato, and chili paste over greens, and topped with a lime dressing. The combination of sweet, savory, and acidic flavors was both comforting and palate-cleansing.

Jason ordered the Red Curry with chicken, which he asked for "Thai hot." The guy likes it incredibly spicy, and he's constantly trying to convince servers that he can handle it if they make it so. Alas, he was a bit disappointed, as his curry came out no spicier than an average Americanized curry. Despite that minor letdown, he said it was a perfectly respectable version.

Service was attentive, prices were quite reasonable, and the decor was very chic for such a casual little place. It's definitely worth checking out if you find yourself in that neighborhood.

On a sidenote, next time I'll have to try Burma, located directly on top of Kanlaya. Looks promising.

Good to know:
Kanlaya is located at 740 6th Street, NW. By Metro, exit at Chinatown/Gallery Place Metro (Green, Yellow, or Red line), and exit on the north side of the Verizon Center. Walk east for one block on H Street until you get to 6th. Kanlaya will be on the right-hand side near the corner of H and 6th.

Photo by Flickr user Afagen.

Pretty DC rowhouses

Photos by Flickr users jsmjr, Ohad, and m hoek.

Brunch for one

I love eating good meals with friends and family. But eating alone is equally delicious in its own way. Particularly if said meal is brunch at Meze in Adams Morgan on a sunny Saturday morning.

Having spent about sixteen hours straight in bed (thanks to a nasty cold and lots of Nyquil), getting out of my apartment for brunch was an especially appealing idea. Also, my beloved but ancient coffeemaker had chosen this morning to stage its dramatic denouement (think lots of hissing and smoking), so coffee at home was out of the question. With newspaper in hand, I headed over to Meze for some caffeine and nourishment.

From the moment I entered Meze, the staff seemed to anticipate my every whim. I was whisked over to a nice big corner table (the better to spread out with my newspaper), and immediately a waiter brought over a steaming mug of strong Turkish coffee. (Could it be that I actually look caffeine-deprived?)

Meze's menu features a varied selection of Turkish mezze, or "small plates" (think tapas, 'cept Turkish, not Spanish). As good as all the small plates sounded, I went with a more traditional brunch choice - the"Meze Eggs," two poached eggs over toasted English muffin and smoked salmon, topped with a creamy tomato-flavored Hollandaise sauce. I ordered a side of sauteed spinach too, which I spooned over the eggs.

With such good food and never-ending coffee refills, the Style section was all the company I needed for a great brunch.

Good to know:
Meze is located at 2437 18th Street, a quick walk up from the Dupont Metro or down from the Woodley Park/Zoo Metro (both on the Red Line).

Photo of Meze's interior taken from SieteTango.

All scientific and stuff

Today, the WaPo debuts its new monthly food column, The Gastronomer, in which writer Andreas Viestad, will ponder the relationship between science and food. I rolled my eyes at the title, expecting to find a long-winded missive on the merits of sous vide cooking or celery foam. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that, although Viestad's observations can tend toward the obvious ("We need science to teach us what goes on when we make a sauce or cook a piece of fish," he muses at one point), his attitude toward molecular gastronomy appears promisingly nuanced. Viestad's general premise is that cooking can benefit from scientific advancement, but that the relentless pursuit of technical perfection undermines the whole point of cooking and eating for pleasure. Okay, that's fair enough. But referring to himself as a "maverick gastronomer"? I dunno that a balanced view on the topic doth a maverick make.

I'm eager to see whether future columns reveal a thoughtful voice in the Our Food, Our Selves dialogue, or whether Viestad's fluffy souffle of big ideas will, alas, deflate. I also wonder about the Post's choice to incorporate this theme into its Food Section as a monthly column. It seems to me that, for most readers, molecular gastronomy is an occasional thrill to be experienced at the hands of Katsuya Fukushima, but is not neccessarily a month-in, month-out theme for reflection. Viestad seems to know his stuff though, so we shall see.

Photo of Minibar's Olive Oil Bon Bon by Flickr user Dabdiputs.