Columbia Room and Ping Pong Dim Sum

Tonight, I felt like a gypsy in search of both drinks and food. Further, I'll insist tonight's activities were the work only a food blogger would do. After all, after a day of work (having lunch, mind you, at a regimented time like 12:30), I went to the still-relatively-scary-area of the Convention Center to sample alcohol, with a small side of food, Boca Sola style (tonight, that means, without even a book). It was a celebration of cocktails--bitters, liqueurs, zests, gins, and fancy-sounding European mind-alterers--ordering the tasting menu at the Columbia Room.

Long ago (I'd say 50 restaurants prior), I had a true Boca Sola dinner and learned from my bartender at 701 about the seminal bars in DC. (The amazing thing about this food blog is when I can quote myself.) He recommended both the Passenger and the Columbia Room, the Passenger's interior bar. They had, up until this evening, been mythical bars with ethereal drinks.

It was clever--I learned about grenadine (theirs has pomegranate), smelled wormwood and the bark used for bitters, and inhaled artichoke liqueur. Unfortunately, I had to eke out a lot of this information from the busy bartenders but this was a place where liquor nerds go to share. And I did.

It's a charming place: I made a reservation a few weeks ago, had to ask a waitress how to get in (hint: it's an unmarked black door), and settled into my solo chair. This is not the place to go alone, particularly book-less. The drink-making is a spectacular show, but being so intimate, it's hard to people-watch without eavesdropping. Nonetheless, the drink tasting menu (yes, seriously) was unrolled quickly enough for me to comfortably savor, observe, ask questions, and enjoy.

Cocktails are serious business these days: there is esteem for the tradecraft, ingredients, and recipes of cocktails of yore. The Columbia Room setup, though, despite largely making me uncomfortable that everyone knew I could hear their conversations (more irksome because some of them were so boring), illustrated to me that 1. alcohols I don't normally like can taste delicious when assembled in magical combinations and 2. magical combinations can come from unlikely ingredients.

I learned the first lesson with the first drink: a punch with lemon juice, soda water, and Tanqueray 10, considerably lighter and less juniper-y than normal gin, making it a gin I like (which I thought was impossible).

 

The second drink fell in the magical-combinations category and was a totally counter intuitive mix of amontillado sherry (the third cocktail I've had in nearly as many weeks with sherry, a feat I'm proud of), artichoke liqueur (Cynar), acquavit (a serious Norwegian drink the bartender aptly noted smells of rye bread), and peach bitters. I'd never order it again but its layered flavors made a nearly intolerably-bitter drink quite pleasant.

The surprisingly apt pairing was lamb tartare: I must say I respect a place that offers raw meat as a snack. Served atop a taboulleh salad, the lamb tartare was mixed with harissa, and served besides Greek yogurt and pita. The good, fresh, chewy kind. It was tremendous to be pleased when I was least expecting it.

The last drink was our own choosing and the Columbia Room takes an admirable risk in allowing preferences, suggestions, or word associations to dictate what drink is made. I asked for a drink that featured Pernod, a French anisette-flavored liqueur that I've only once had in a cocktail and that's usually served over ice. I specifically asked for a cocktail that only featured a splash of it, and got one with, starting left: vermouth, Cointreau, Pernod, and gin, three of which I usually actively avoid.

It was a tremendous cocktail. Subtly anisette-y, but full of other smooth, crisp flavors. It was impressive. Coupled with the young hipster woman sitting next to me telling me how "awesome" it was I went all alone, I happily made my exit. It was time for dinner: a girl can't be satiated by tartare and olives alone after three cocktails. 

  

I went to Ping Pong Dim Sum, two blocks away. Dinner had that same perfunctory feel that Taco Bell does after a night of drinking (I'm hearkening back 10 years here and it's not necessarily their fault), albeit a bit more sophisticated. It's very hip and features club music, things I've never associated with dim sum. Nonetheless, the pork buns were good. The meat was flavorful but I ate the rice paper they were cooked on (not the obvious stuff, but the cleverly transparent stuff just under each bun). I most memorably had something similar at the Source, so will have trouble ever being equally satisfied, but they were still nevertheless good.

I also had the duck/five spice dumplings: the duck was tender and the spicing was subtle but with punch. It worked: good textures and straightforward flavors. It did the trick after a night of spirit-slinging magic.