Choriqueso at Polvo’s. Green Chili Pork taco and the Democrat at Torchy’s Tacos. Micheladas (made w/Negra Modelo, of course) at multiple locations. Uchi sushi. Nepali noodle salad at Farm to Market. Sweet potato fries at Freddie’s. A BBQ pork sandwich with jalapenos. Home Slice pizza. Those lovely rosemary and salt bagels w/cream cheese in the mornings at Once Over. A slow-moving orgy.
As far as concepts go, Washington DC isn’t particularly a cutting-edge leader. Leadership, when it appears, tends to be on the political stage, often high on theory and low in execution, and frankly has been disappointing in the past decade of rancorous partisan politicking. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I explained the concept of an underground supper club to some colleagues and was met with apprehension and skepticism. Aside from being a gentle reminder that bureaucracies can coax creativity and adventure from us, it did strangely empower me to just go have a good time trying something new.
And so there was this last week in WaPo. As I said to some, better the Food page than the front page.
The strangest thing since? All sorts of congratulatory emails (“cool” was the most frequent word used, which just shows how uncool I am), and having someone come into the elevator I was riding and say, “Hey, Mr. Secret Dinner!”
Portland has a reputation for having restaurateurs who take the idea of utilizing organic and locally grown produce seriously. Since living in Mexico, where tomatoes and beef really had fierce flavor, I’ve missed eating dishes where the quality of the ingredients mattered. So far, so good. I’ll be updating this post with reviews of places I’ve dined as they come along. Perhaps the best sign is that since returning to the US, I’ve eaten at Wendy’s just once, and amazingly, have managed to avoid McDonald’s. Continue reading