Friday

Your poor editor is depressed. The last few days/weeks seem to have been such a maelstrom of activity that my duty to observe and report has been obviated by events. And, there are so many things from trivia, to sports, to restaurants that need discussing he hardly knows where to start.. A small sampling of what’s in the locker:

Do you know there is a magazine called “Web MD”?

Why does our National Capitol have two of the worst (professional) teams in sports, and one of the best? The stupid Wizards have been awaiting the return of the Messiah (Gilbert Arenas) for two years now, and it isn’t happening.. current record of 17 and 59, and only one team in the NBA with a more piteous record. In our national pastime, manager Manny Acta has the greatest talent I’ve ever seen at explaining away loss after loss in such a humble way, you just want to hug him and say; “It’s all right Manny, 102 losses last year wasn’t your fault and you’ve been blown out all three games so far this year, but c’mon, the guys are trying hard.” Go Caps..

As part of our activity with a team of business people from Greece, I’ve had a chance to eat at The Tides, the Hilton Garden Inn, and Solomon’s Pier.

We arrived at the Tides only a half hour before the kitchen closed (on a Monday night) but were treated graciously by the staff and served food that would have been good at any hour of the day.

The Hilton Garden Inn was a plated event setting, and I’ll pass off the first visit to a learning experience on that aspect of food service. Food temperature and pacing were issues, although the salad of iceberg wedge with blue cheese was good (and chancy on their part), and a crab cake starter was passable. A main course of (their term) “prime rib” wasn’t. Water and iced tea glasses were never re-filled (nor offered to be) and our silverware was handled by them, not us. The knife used for crab cake consumption was taken from the finished plate and put on the bread plate for easy access for the beef. Hopefully they’ll learn, it’s another place. Don’t know anything about table service.

The last day with the team (Wednesday) took us to Solomons Pier for lunch (and showing the Greeks our waterfront experience). Every time I go in there I re-admire the carvings of the waterfowl. They have also put some historical storyboards on the walls which is a nice touch. Unfortunately we were greeted with a recorded “Hi I’m… and I’ll be taking care of you….”. Without looking up past feeders I seem to remember that I reluctantly thought the food was good on the last visit. This time another host extolled the (allegedly) legendary Stoney’s Crab Cake and pointed to yet another poster on the wall which contained the Washington Post’s award. Of course they left off the year. Anyway at the behest of that person, most of them ordered the small sandwich, and I went with the Angels on Horseback – fried oysters atop apple wood smoked bacon, on a bed of tomatoes and lettuced French roll. Another of the hosts just got a bowl of a non crab (memory going and no note pad) soup of the day. Orders were taken, drinks delivered (refreshingly, most of our Greek guests had wine), and conversation ensued. Eventually the food arrived, the tennis ball sized golden brown crab cakes atop a roll with lettuce and pallid tomato. Interestingly, a few of their owners treated them as a “sandwich” which resulted in a piece of food about three inches think. We didn’t mention that most people didn’t treat a crab cake sandwich as a sandwich.. My Angels flew to the table, and although sandwich like, I just ate the oysters. Again, expectations were exceeded as the oysters were crunchy outside and creamy smooth inside. Very good.. Pick your choices carefully. The crab cakes were enjoyed by their owners, probably the second one of their lives. Visual review revealed the typical shredded crab bound together with a fair amount of filler, and not so done on the inside. Rest on those Laurels Stoney…the soup was only half finished. So much starch that it stood in peaks.

THIS JUST IN…

Sadly a visit to Woodburn’s yesterday afternoon turned into a discovery that our main source of real cheeses has been drastically reduced. They’ve closed down the case in the back and now a few lonely hand cut chunks of wonderful Morbier, Port du Salut, Stilton, are in the same case as Cabot, Kraft, and those slick pieces of alleged “real” cheese with colorful labels that turn out to be from New Jersey. Sigh..



DFD no matter what time you arrive