Chomp!

By Ron Aiken
May 9, 2014

Sitting at Le Pain Quotidian at Union Station in Washington,D.C., Chomp! is feeling fancypants. I’m one Cafe Americano and four mini tarts into this column, so what comes out of me right now is anyone’s guess.

I may invent weird, unpronounceable words like quortvachian and begin addressing everyone as ‘Elsinore,’ I haven’t decided yet.

Or I may just talk about food in D.C., which, so far Elsinore, has been a mixed bag. The bad end of the spectrum, the one laced with instant financial, emotional and intestinal regret was Thai Chef. Hoteling ourselves in Dupont Circle, Chomp! and his fiancee wanted Thai, and we had passed by a place earlier in the day that looked promising, even though in hindsight we should have tried the charmingly named “Beau Thai.” But I digress.

We did not try Beaux Thai, we tried Thai Chef, which was a combo Thai place and sushi bar. That should have been Chomp!’s first clue, but Chomp! and his fiancee had been walking around D.C. for more than an hour in the rain and were utterly soaked, cold and hungry. I wanted hot tom kha soup and spicy seafood, and in my mind they would have perfected versions of both. in reality they did not. The tom kha was lukewarm and uninspiring and my seafood dish was a marvel of tastelessness and despair.

Chewy mussels, cold shrimp, spongy scallops in a thin, watery sauce that may once have come in contact with some KC Masterpiece does not a happy Chomp! make.

Here’s the mess that was the seafood special. It all tasted boiled to oblivion.

We persevered through the meal, got some dessert from the hotel restaurant when we got back and chalked it up to a lesson learned.

The next night Chomp! wanted a steak, and so with the recommendation from our concierge (OK, the desk lady at the hotel check-in), we moseyed over to Annie’s Paramount Steakhouse. Which immediately sucked. We had a too-friendly waiter who failed to introduce himself and instead sat too close to my fiancee on the booth and the menu appeared to have been last adjusted to the times in 1986. Jalapeno Poppers and Buffalo Wings highlighted the appetizer list along with onion rings and fried calamari. Uh, Chomp! is no super-snob when it comes to food, but if this if the best a place can do for apps at a metropolitan steakhouse, then this place is not the place for Chomp!.

We left just as the bread came.

Fortunately, on our way to the steakhouse time machine we passed a wood-fired pizza place where the pizza looked fantastic. We went there.

It was incredible. They had quality olive oil on the table and the parmesan was freshly grated and sticky (not aged). We got the Pizza Di Pesto with mushrooms, pepperoni, mozarella, pesto, roasted garlic, pine nuts and asparagus. Because Chomp!’s GORGEOUS fiance HATES asparagus, we substituted spinach for it, and it was a sound choice.

The thin crust was fantastic, especially with some olive oil drizzled over it, and the pizza itself, well just take a look!

Sin-sational!

 

There was one accident when Chomp! overzealously tried to shake the parmesan from the little bottle and the lid came off on his pizza, as documented here:

The crime scene. The horror!

Since it was all cheese, however, I am happy to report no casualties came of the spill and the scene itself was completely cleared of cheese in mere moments after the lid failure.

In all surreeusness, the pizza was one of the best Chomp! has had. Ever. It will not replace the Zorba’s Special as my favorite pizza in the whole world, but if you’re in D.C., you can do a lot, lot worse than Pizza No. 17 at 1523 17th St. NW.

For now, Chomp! must let you go, as the espresso and chocolate is beginning to have a deleterious affect on Chomp!’s ability to concentrate, and if he’s not careful he may just order a Wild Mushroom and Goat Cheese Omelette or Paris Ham and Gruyere Omelette. Either that or more coffee and some coconut macaroons. Don’t judge me, Elsinore! See ya next quortvachian!

 

 

 

Ron Aiken

 

 

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