And now for something completely different. Sort of. As Julie, your esteemed guide to culinary adventure prepares for the final stretch in her conquest of the Washingtonian’s top 100, I managed to convince her to sit this one out and just enjoy the meal, while you, her loyal readers, experience a tale of food and friendship from a guy’s perspective (Editor’s note: guest editor Steve deserves a round of applause for culinary-critiquing finesse in the paragraphs that follow and lamb carving skills in the entry before). Why you ask? Because the Boca Sola is all about new experiences and an escape from the ordinary. Also, she’s busy packing for her trip to France. So there’s that. But don’t worry, she still has to edit this sucker so she’s here in spirit. By the way, fans of grammar may want stop reading now and jump to the next blog entry. Still here? Let’s get on with it...
This particular episode brings us to J & G Steakhouse inside DC’s trendy W Hotel. Taking point on the expedition was of course the lovely Ms. J, joined by her charming partner in crime, Dotti. Rounding out the crew was Eric, himself no stranger to the top 100, Doug, a well-travelled expert in wines, and me, your guest commentator for the evening. Upon arrival, I was struck by how refreshingly modern the atmosphere and lighting was. Steakhouses, even in 2012, often fall into the trap of going too dark, usually black with more black, with a little bit of red. This, I’ve found can often be a deterrent for the ladies, who don’t typically enjoy hanging out in something that looks like the Corleone compound from Godfather II. (Editor’s note: particularly if, in the restaurant, some crooked cop says it's got the best veal parmigiana in the city).
Unbeknownst to me when I rather arrogantly requested to write this entry, the privilege of serving as guest blogger came with the responsibility of selecting all starters, sides, desserts, and the wine bottle for the entire table. This can be daunting when you have the palate of a ten year old kid. Nevertheless, this night was about getting out of one’s comfort zone, a concept applicable to both food and relationships in general. We opened with a round of appetizers including crispy calamari with pickled chiles and yuzu dip, bacon-wrapped Gulf shrimp, and a jumbo crab cake with a sugar snap pea remoulade. I found the crab cake to be absolutely delectable, and among the best I’ve ever had. Of course, it should be noted that I’ve never had crab cake before and have always wanted to use the word "delectable" in a sentence, so mission accomplished.
I completed my experimentation with crab cake just in time to see the last of the bacon wrapped shrimp get gleefully devoured by the quartet in front of me. The shrimp, I’m told, rocked. This is probably because it was wrapped in bacon and you don’t need a soon-to-be world class food reviewer like me to tell you that anything wrapped in bacon is automatically awesome.
I didn’t eat the calamari because according to Wikipedia, calamari is fried squid, and squids are gross. (Editor’s note: one of your Greek seafaring/fisherman/sponge-diving ancestors just shed a single tear, I'm sure.)
On the drink front, there was plenty of Malbec consumed through the course of the evening, though Eric and I had to start off with good old American beer and Julie kicked off with a Calvados-infused cocktail. In the lead up to the main course, we elected to grab a bottle of Cabernet from Margaux, France, which most of the table enjoyed, though we ultimately returned back to the comfort of the Malbec before the evening concluded.
Much of the evening’s conversation revolved around change, both personal and professional, with two of our party either having started, or being on the verge of starting, new work assignments and all the good and bad that comes with such a change of scenery. Soon the entrees arrived, with three of us opting for the filet mignon, cooked perfectly I might add, with a nice pink center.
Doug went with the peppercorn prime New York Strip steak which is like 14 ounces of awesome.
Perhaps the star of the show, however, was Dotti’s hanger steak with a massive helping of French fries on the very same plate. I’m told it tasted even better than it looked.
For sides, we went with some grilled asparagus, black truffle cheese fritters, and potato gratin. The asparagus was middling. While I appreciated the olive oil, there was way too much lemon. I aint down with that. The Cheese Truffles were good, but not as epic as they deserved to be. Fried cheese should be an automatic home run every time. This was more of a ground rule double.
Hands down the sides winner in my book was the potato gratin. Imagine the best potatoes you’ve ever had packed with the finest melted cheese known to man. This is why America is the greatest nation on earth: we’ve made the classic steak and potatoes meal even more awesome with the inclusion of melted cheese. I’m tempted to chant “U-S-A! U-S-A!” even as I type this (Editor’s note: potato gratin is French. Good try though).
By far the funniest moment of the night took place during dessert. Doug ordered a cappuccino and they straight up brought him this:
We’re not sure what it was, but it looked like it was the few remaining drops of coffee from a cup bussed off of another table. The look on his face was worth the price of the whole meal.
Very quickly that was remedied and we all got to enjoy a combination of warm chocolate lava cake and salted caramel ice cream with a popcorn and chocolate sauce. You heard that right.
The smile on Dotti’s face for the chocolate lava cake nearly lit up the restaurant. Even Boca Sola’s founder and my editor-in-chief got a kick out of it.
As the evening wound down, a few of us scoped out the rooftop bar on the W to check out the view of DC and briefly enjoy the weather. All in all, not a bad night. (Editor’s note: bravo, Steve, and kali orexi. Your guesting is welcome back any time.)
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