AU DÉBUT: DC RESTAURANT WEEK | PS7

There are some things in life that do not ever make sense. As many times as you try and figure out if there is any rhyme or reason for certain things, you’re probably better off letting go of the things you cannot control. And coming from a self-proclaimed obsessive compulsive person, doing so is definitely easier said than done.

For instance, I absolutely cannot keep a decent pair of designer sunglasses. For the life of me, I lose them each and every time. It probably doesn’t help that I’m usually in the company of beer and/or alcohol at the times of loss, but that is beside the point. The point is: I cannot keep a pair of designer sunglasses for the life of me. I’m not bitter. Hello, $7-pair from H&M. You and I will have to get along.

On the other hand, however, something that does make sense in my life is… food. Come on now, as if you didn’t already know. Food is an important part of my life. Yes, that would include the bad stuff that we all love to have, but know we shouldn’t (but have it anyway). But beyond that is my love for well-prepared, appropriately portioned (!), and carefully executed food. And what better time to have this type of stuff than during Restaurant Week?!

Restaurant Week, to me, is like a breeze on a Sunday morning, the cherry on top of an ice cream sundae, the fried-egg that you mash into a piping-hot dish of loco moco, or store-bought cake from the grocery store that you buy (and eat) by yourself. Wait, I didn’t mean that last part… (or maybe I did.) What Restaurant Week is NOT: a plated dinner at a wedding (gag), a trip to the local “Chinese” buffet, nor is it something that should be passed up. Restaurant Week is just as worthy of your attention as Nordstrom’s Half-Yearly Sale. (Yup, I went there.)

This year, the DC-area Restaurant Week was, and continues to be (for the most part, it’s been extended through this week as well), another feather in the cap of awesomeness. I remember blogging about how the DC dining landscape has evolved in recent years. Area kitchen stars have only increased in their popularity in the last few years (Jose Andres, Geoff Tracy, and Robert Wiedmaier to name a few), but at the same time the area has attracted the likes of Michel Richard, Wolfgang Puck, and Alain Ducasse, whose restaurants now dot the “foodie” map of DC.

Since I’ve returned, I’ve been slowly getting back into the area dining scene. It surprises me how there are many places that have sexified their space, making me feel like I’m having more of an “L.A.” experience that tends to focus more on ambiance than food. But amazingly, there are so many places that are able to fuse the two together nicely… and they’re all within my old stomping grounds. There’s no better time to dive right into the DC-area foodie scene than Restaurant Week.

PS7
My return to the area has been marked with a lot of things: new office building, new commute (!), new co-workers, and a new daily routine. But spattered in between the newness are so many familiar sights and sounds: area traffic, the humidity of summer, my family and my friends. This year, Restaurant Week served not only as a time to have great food, but a time to connect (and re-connect in some cases) with great friends. My first stop this time around was at PS7.

Located on the outskirts of DC’s very tiny Chinatown, bordering the ever-bustling Penn Quarter, PS7 is sort of tucked-away amidst re-vamped office buildings, newly built condos, and a slew of shops and cafes. My “go to” foodie-friend, Leah, set-up this dinner venture. I was excited to make my way into the city last Tuesday evening. It felt good traveling downtown, and when I rolled around onto I (Eye) Street, I met the valet as if I were meeting a long-lost friend. Thankfully, Leah walked up before I could engage in senseless banter with the valet attendant, and we made our way inside.

We were early, so we proceeded to the lounge area to grab a round of drinks. I noticed that the space was open, with tables against the big windows facing the street. Away from the windows were shorter tables and ottomans where the happy hour set were enjoying their ‘last call’ before dinner prices took effect. We planted ourselves at the bar, and were met with all sorts of concoctions in bottles or pestles ---which we would find out, later, were all part of the interesting make-up of their witty drink menu. I ended up with the Ice Pick, which is made of an interesting mix of Grey Goose, acai, and tea, while Leah indulged in a cucumber imbibed drink (called Gnome’s Water) that was both refreshing and calming. The drinks were a great start for the night as two more of our friends, Erika and Stacy, joined us for dinner.

As the maître d’ showed us to our table, the sights, sounds, and smells were a good indication of what was to come: a nicely-prepared three-course meal that involved many great choices. To add to the minimalist energy of the restaurant were modern paintings that lined the walls, along with mood lighting to enhance the gallery-like space. Tables along a raised platform that lined a wall of tall windows served as silhouettes against the lights from the outside streetlamps. Our waiter, whose vocal intonations reminded us of a prime time game show host, was thorough and efficient, and soon our table was covered with more drinks and glasses of water.

Between the four of us, we indulged in a wide array of dishes. First course: Sarah’s Salad (with mascarpone and strawberries on a bed of field greens), Warm Spinach Salad (marrying the delectable flavors of feta and bacon), Tomato and Saffron-Steamed P.E.I. Mussels, and a Caprese Flat Bread –all of which were flavorful and nicely prepared.

Our second course was just as diverse: Tuna Au Poivre (served with an asparagus gremolata), Wild Mushroom Risotto, Beef Tenderloin Au Poivre, and Stuffed Pork Loin (with thyme pan jus). While some of the meats were a little over-cooked on the outside, all the dishes were generally tasty and filling. We almost forgot that there was one more course left.

Desserts soon followed, after another quick round of drinks, and again we were each suddenly in the presence of ample deliciousness: Blueberry Brown Betty, Red Velvet Cake, a Strawberry Tasting (with strawberry sorbet, lemon pound cake, and mascarpone cream), and the winner of the night – Chocolate Peanut Butter Bar (which requires no explanation whatsoever).

At the end of it all, we were satiated and ready for bed, which was probably the master plan all along. PS7 is a gem in the bourgeoning Chinatown area, and has been wowing DC natives and visitors alike since 2006. Owned by former Vidalia chef and 'James Beard Award' winner Peter smith, PS7 is the culmination of his years of experience with some of the DC area’s best-known restaurants, and it continues to make it’s mark on DC’s culinary history.
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PS7, 777 I (Eye) Street NW, Washington, DC 20001, 202.742.8550

(Photos are courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

OH, G. YOU'RE SUCH A B.

Random thought: I have always felt that Michelle Trachtenberg was just a so-so actress. She has never done anything extraordinary enough for me to care about her... until Gossip Girl. While I know that I have pretty much dug my own grave by admitting that I enjoy watching the trash that is GG, I must say that engaging in the show has been a nice 'escape' from the lame shows about emo kids from L.A. Once Laguna Beach ended, and after Lauren Conrad left The Hills, there really wasn't any reason to watch a tired show like 90210. I mean how lame is that?

So when the world of TV decided to bring back teen angst to NYC, I couldn't have been more happier. There's nothing like following the lives of socialite kids (and I'm talking about "real" East Coast / old money socialite kids) and all their senseless drama. Instead of watching them cry at the beach after having their heart broken, they make phone calls to have people kidnapped, or eat their feelings at Per Se. It's a different world from where they come from, for sure.

Now back to Michelle Trachtenberg. Again, she definitely was not on my list of favorite people to watch. As that whiny bitch on Buffy, she annoyed me. I didn't follow the show well enough anyway, so that didn't help her cause. But on the other hand, as the cold-hearted 'Georgina Sparks' on GG, Michelle Trachtenberg has bitched her way to my heart.

The thing is I know she's got some new show starting up this Fall, so I'm not sure how she'll continue to be 'Georgina' on GG. It would be tragic if she didn't at least make her way to B's dorm room when the season starts again in a few weeks. If I had to choose to watch her as a rookie nurse, or catch her as a collegiate terror at NYU... I'd choose --OK, do I even have to go there??!

As pointless as this post may be, at least M.Trachtenberg has another fan.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE (OR NOT) A MONTH MAKES

Today officially starts my fifth week back "home," and I must say that I am amused at how much things have changed, yet also remain the same. I guess "home" wouldn't be "home" if it weren't for that, huh? I'm still getting used to things again, and in some cases it's like riding a bike: you stop for a while, and when you get on for the first time in a long time, you're kind of wary about how everything will go.

I remember the days when I could navigate my way through the city without question. For for no rhyme or reason, I just knew which streets to take, and which to avoid, and which ways were one-way, and at what time I could go through a certain area. Now, I can't even wind my way through DC without calling someone to ask for directions. It makes me sad, but at the same time the whole "getting lost" thing has lead me to parts of the city that I've actually never been before. That, in itself, is a blessing; new places to check out, and new experiences to be made. I'm absolutely down for that.

I must say that lately my mind has been too pre-occupied with figuring things out now that I'm back home. I haven't been able to blog about anything super random, nor about my feelings on a certain subject or current event, or the latest blurb about whatever it is that catches my eye at a given moment. I could blog about how humid it is here, and how much I never realized how much it feels like an oven in Our Nation's Capital this time of the year. It's so bad that my lungs can't seem to take it, and I need the A/C pumpin' in my car in order for me to breathe regularly. But being in smog-filled L.A. should've been an equally appalling experience, yeah? Well, not after being spoiled living on the west side. You don't get that smog in Santa Monica, thank goodness. But you get the humidity everywhere here... from Ft. Washington, to DC, to Tysons Corner. You just can't escape it.

At any rate, I'm getting back into the swing of things. On the weekends, my Godsis and co. have been my saving grace. They make for great company, and they keep me grounded (and they like to drink and eat with me... go figure). My younger brother, my sis-in-law, and my most adorable niece and nephew are equally comforting. Just knowing that they're now a 20-minute drive away (on a good day, mind you; DC traffic can be just as annoying as traffic on the 405) makes me happy. I'm still waiting to see my nephew take some steps on his own. He seems too shy to do it in front of his Uncle Wen, but I know that it'll happen all in due time. Being around for family parties again is fun, especially when I run into old family friends, and parents of my high school friends who love to make kuwento with me about what their kids are doing now, and all of the things I've done since I graduated Oxon Hill.

I'm getting back into the swing of things, for sure.

I miss my life in L.A., though. I miss that the weather is virtually perfect, despite the marine layer that always seems to make me want to see rain. I think I've seen just as much rain in the past four weeks as I did when I first moved to L.A. a few winters ago. "Winter Storms" in L.A. = rain... non-stop. Lame, I know. Just the other day, I was driving across the Wilson Bridge, and I thought to myself, "How weird is it that I just can't cut through Doheny to get to Sunset, and then head east toward Cahuenga." Now I'm cutting through bridges and taking exits that lead me through suburbia. Again, it's familiar territory (after getting lost fifty million times), but I'm still missing my 5 minute drives to Red Mango, or the fun lunches at Absolutely Phobulous or Mishima. Now I have to actually drive into the city to find something that's Pinkberry-ish, and my lunch options are pretty much a Harris Teeter (which isn't bad, don't get me wrong) and the food court at the mall just a short drive from the office. Fun.

Slowly and surely, I'm getting back into the swing of things. I like that I'm so close to a "city" again, and I'm loving the fact that the option for public transpo (and GOOD public transpo at that) is all mine. Restaurant Week in DC is next week, and I've got two reservations with old friends, which should be GREAT. And there's always the latest and greatest in new trends that I have yet to find. It's time re-discover my home. A lot has actually changed since I've been away, and it's up to me to conquer all these changes. It'll be sans orange bang and albondigas soup, but I guess you can't get wings and mumbo sauce in L.A.

It's equal playing ground, for sure.

That said, cheers to being back home. I am looking forward, though, to my weekend trip back to L.A. next month. Bacon-wrapped hot dogs in Hollywood = a great time.