A Sophisticated Palate

Several years ago, I lived on the sixth floor of a walk-up in Manhattan’s East Village. I shared our cramped three bedroom apartment with at least two other people at any one time, and occasionally their assorted hangers-on, as well. At nine feet by seven feet, my bedroom was only slightly larger than your average office cubicle, and my roommates’ bedrooms were only slightly larger. As you can probably imagine it’s difficult for human beings to cohabit peaceably under such dehumanizing conditions. And there was certainly no shortage of drama.

One of my best friends, who occupied one of the other bedrooms for about three years, was a source of regular irritation due to his habit of waking up at three in the morning all parched and proceeding to slake his thirst with whatever items were in our refrigerator, regardless of their owner. And invariably, those items tended to be mine.

I’ll never forget the time that I came home from work to face a sheepish apology from my roommate for having eaten the rest of my jar of Raspberry Polaner All-Fruit:

“Dude, I’m so sorry, but I ate the rest of your jelly last night.”

“What do you mean you ate the rest of my jelly? There’s no bread in this apartment.”

“I know, I know. I woke up in the middle of the night and I was so thirsty that I drank your jelly straight out of the jar.”

“Wait a minute- I’m just not understanding. How can you possibly satisfy thirst with jelly?”

“Dude!” he exclaimed as he collected his thoughts. Then more quietly, “Dude, there was no water in the Brita, and I didn’t have any Gatorade left. I really needed something sweet and liquid, and your jelly was the closest thing to that in our fridge.”

“You are an insane person.”

A few weeks later, I brought home a bottle of Guyanese banana soda that a co-worker was kind enough to specially schlep in from her Guyanese enclave way out in Queens. I was saving it for the weekend, so it languished in our fridge for a couple of days. But then, one day after work, I noticed it’s level had dropped about an inch. Of course, my roommate was the culprit. But this time, I was actually upset, as this soda was not something that I could just score down the street, and I certainly was not keen on drinking a banana soda that had traces of my roommate’s backwash.

A couple of months later, however, I enjoyed sweet, though unintentional, revenge. I used to occasionally get take-out from the Mee Noodle Shop on First Ave., a noodle joint that was purportedly a favorite of Allen Ginsberg’s and is now sadly closed. I would always get a noodle soup with steamed vegetables, and would typically eat all the noodles and most of the vegetables, but then still have a ton of leftover broth. For some reason, I would stow this broth in our fridge, rather than disposing of it, as if I would ever have any reason to consume the rest of it. And more often than not, it would remain in our fridge for weeks on end until someone had the fortitude to bust it open, and pour its putrifying contents down the drain.

So one day, I came home from work and decided that it was time to clean out our fridge. The first thing I noticed was that the formerly full container of broth, which had easily been in our fridge for the past six weeks, had been nearly drained. Just a few stray bits of noodle and a mushroom cap, the dregs of a dinner from weeks past, were lurking in a pool of broth at the bottom of the container. Perplexed, I called my roommate into the kitchen.

As he walked in, I held up the nearly empty container of broth with a quizzical expression.

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” he said with a look of shame. “I woke up in the middle of the night again, and I was so thirsty. That broth saved me.”

“Are you kidding me?! You drank the broth?”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

Then I started laughing. “Do you realize you drank broth that’s at least six weeks old?”

His expression turned from shame to horror. “Oh God, no!” he cried with a pained expression. “No, no, no!” he whimpered.

When he finally regained his composure, I inquired, “Just explain to me how you could drink a half liter of broth and not realize that it had gone bad. I really want to know.”

“Well, I did think that it tasted sort of funny,” he explained.  “But then, you’re always being adventurous and trying new things all the time. I guess I just assumed that this was something that my palate was simply not sophisticated enough to appreciate.”

—AC

Bodega Beveraging Wonderland

When it comes to exploring ethnic food marts, sometimes discipline pays off. From the exterior, Tienda Izalco II appears to be just another dumpy and unremarkable bodega- the sort of place where locals stop in for lotto tickets and phone cards, and not much else. Nevertheless, I decided to take a minute to scout out their wares, and was rewarded with the motherlode of Central and South American beverage selection. Not only did they have some of my old favorites, many of which are widely available, but they also offered a handful that I had not tried before. Though I restrained myself, I still managed to walk off with seven different sodas.

Cawy Bottling Company, the makers of this watermelon soda, actually started in Cuba in the late ‘40s, and then relocated to Miami soon after Castro took power. The watermelon soda is a light pink and has a sickly sweet perfume of faux watermelon. Despite its assertive bouquet, the watermelon taste in the soda is fairly understated, quickly fading away to bland sweetness.

Although I’ve had other red cream sodas previously, I couldn’t resist this Pop Art masterpiece. The information on the can lists a Miami bottler, but according to my Google sleuthing, Milca is actually based in Nicaragua. Red cream sodas basically taste like bubblegum, a flavor of soda that is inexplicably popular in every part of the world except for the United States. Of course, Texas does have Big Red, but then Texas is always exceptional. Milca has an overpowering aroma, sort of like cracking open the door to the Bazooka Joe factory.  But the actual taste is somewhat milder, and quickly fades away. It’s a garish red with a nice creamy head.

Brazilia is amber colored and tastes like a weak ginger ale. But this soda is not at all about taste. Rather, it’s simply a mild mannered delivery system for the stimulant guarana. The guarana plant contains caffeine and is one of the featured stimulants in a number of energy drinks currently flooding the market. I recall trying another Brazilian guarana drink several years ago that had a bizarre fruit taste instead of ginger ale, so Brazilians evidentally enjoy more than one variety of guarana powered sodas.

Later this week, I’ll wrap up this beveraging tour with the four remaining sodas idling in our fridge.

In the meantime, check out Tienda Izalco II’s beveraging wonderland at:

3409 Payne St.
Falls Church, VA
(703) 931-5400

—AC

Pasta Triptych

We enjoyed dinner with KCS on Saturday night at A La Lucia, a relatively new and pretty popular Italian restaurant in the North Old Town section of Alexandria. Since it’s opening about year and a half ago, the restaurant has enjoyed a lot of success, having added a dining room and expanded its bar area. But even with the added space, you’ll still need a reservation to guarantee a meal there, especially on a weekend night.

The ambience is modern with a very old world sensibility. A cramped entry leads to a large inviting bar area where many are none too shy to enjoy their full meals. We had our dinner in one of the new dining rooms. Warm mustard-colored walls featured lovely wall hangings, and vintage-inspired lamps emitting very low lighting hung from the walls.

Soon after we sat down, our waitress brought us complimentary bruschetta. Though it was delicious, it was clear it had been in a long queue of bruschetta, the tomatoes having rendered the toast a bit soggy, causing them to fall apart.

For appetizers, we went with the Meatballs with Polenta and the Roasted Red Peppers with Olives, Capers, and Anchovies. Six delicate veal meatballs were filled with herbs and spices and sat in a dish of soupy polenta with tomato sauce. The meat and starch combo was perfectly complementary and surprisingly light.

The red peppers, onions, olives, and capers were fashioned into a circular mold with two slivers of anchovy balancing on top. The mold was placed atop several pieces of crisp, cold romaine lettuce. The saltiness of the capers, olives, and anchovy married nicely with the roasted sweetness of the vegetables. And the lettuce turned out to be an appropriate vehicle for the vegetables.

It was decided from the beginning that we’d get three pasta dishes and split them three ways. Unfortunately there were more than three that piqued our interest. Still, we decided on the Malfaldine (thick ribbon-like pasta strands) with Veal Ragu, Rigatoni with Sausage, Onion, and Peppers, and Cannelloni stuffed with with Veal and Vegetable.

The cannelloni was tremendous. It was a special that night, so it's not always available. Two long cylinders of pasta were filled with tender ground veal (similar if not exactly identical to the veal mixture used for the meatballs) and topped with just enough mozzarella and a thick tomato sauce featuring big chunks of stewed whole tomatoes.

The rigatoni was an excellent version of a classic dish. Huge, perfectly al dente rigatoni were covered with generous crumbles of spicy ground sausage nestling in a thick sauce of tomatoes and peppers. This item is featured on the regular menu and was AC's favorite.

KCS’s malfaldine, another special that evening, was a new adventure for all of us, as we had no idea what to expect when we ordered it. The pasta was a perfect vehicle for pasta sauce, as the curly edges of each long strand trap in sauce well. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of sauce to this sauce. Delicious and tender sliced pieces of veal, carrots, and celery comprised a relatively dry mixture. But while we would have liked more liquid to this sauce, the generous portion of meat sauce was full of flavor, and the pasta offered an interesting element of texture.

Had we not packed up some of the pasta for later, we would never have had room for their gelato. We were at first dismayed that we could only try two flavors (gelato should always be served as a trio in restaurants), but after careful consideration, we settled on the Dulce De Leche with Pralines and the Limoncello Crème Sorbetto. The dulce de leche was a like a dream come true for me. I’ve always enjoyed pralines ‘n’ cream, even the cheapo varieties, and anything with dulce de leche is A-OK in my book. The gelato was so creamy and rich, and the pralines (not enough of them, in my opinion), were crunchy and sugary as could be. The crème sorbet was powerfully lemony, and not icy like a lot of sorbets. Next time, we’ll go for the grapefruit Campari sorbetto and the gianduia (chocolate and hazelnut).

For great pastas and gelato, go to A La Lucia:

315 Madison Street
Alexandria, VA
(703) 836-5123

—AK

Nighthawks at the Candystick

After our Saturday in Frederick, Maryland, I couldn’t believe that more people in the D.C. area don’t talk up Frederick as a day trip. Frederick takes the quaint small town feel of Old Town, Alexandria and mixes it up with some of the stalled in time shabbiness of Baltimore.

Take, for instance, The Old Log Wash House Laundromat pictured at right. The sign has the requisite old fashioned ad placements for Coca-Cola, although I’m not entirely sure what a spin cycle has to do with “The Pause that Refreshes.” Nevertheless, if I lived in Frederick I would do all my laundry here just to bask in its antiquated glory. Okay, maybe not.

Frederick also has a capital selection of antique stores, particularly Emporium Antiques, a conglomeration of dozens upon dozens of antiques dealers in one enormous space. The breadth of their wares encompasses just about everything from a 19th Century Swedish grandfather clock to an antique stove to a basket-woven shoulder bag housing old artillery shells. They have a few vintage clothing displays, as well.

But thrift and vintage clothing junkies should absolutely check out Venus on the Half Shell. Its collection of clothing is not especially vast, but each piece of clothing has clearly been carefully selected, as the tag affixed to each item has a pithy remark about its origin.

But no trip to Frederick is complete without stepping into the time warp that is the Barbara Fritchie Candystick Restaurant. Interestingly, the actual Barbara Fritchie had nothing to do with roadside diners. Instead, she was a Maryland folk hero from the Civil War, who purportedly flew the stars and stripes as a gesture of defiance to advancing Confederates.

Though the sign boasts “Fine Foods”, it’s probably best to steer clear of just about everything but their pies, unless you have a craving for dumpy diner food. And though their soda fountain boasts an old school Hamilton Beach triple head milkshake mixer, their insistence upon serving Hershey’s Ice Cream means that soda fountain bliss is unlikely.

The atmosphere is decidedly Nighthawks at the Diner, but only if the original Nighthawks in the Edward Hopper painting were still hanging out there fifty years later. Aside from the countergirl, we were the youngest patrons by about forty years.

Though the diner maintains these boss light fixtures, the proprietors have done away with other vestiges of a bygone era, such as the penny candy concession.

The Candystick offers about a dozen different pies made from scratch, as well as their apple dumpling.

The menu lists the apple dumpling with the standard a la mode format, as well as something I had never heard of before- “with milk.” After the countergirl confirmed that she had, in fact, enjoyed the dumpling in this manner, I decided that I would follow suit. The golden shell of the dumpling is thin and not too buttery and encloses a generous helping of apples and cinnamon. While ice cream might have been a greater enhancement to the dumpling, the milk bath did offer an element of wholesomeness that dessert usually lacks.

The countergirl touted the chocolate pie as her favorite, but we decided to see what they could do with the banana cream pie. The pudding layer offered fresh slices of banana and that was topped off with a layer of foamy meringue instead of the usual whipped cream. AK didn’t care for this variation, characterizing it as "otherworldly", but I found the mix of fresh bananas and meringue to be refreshing.

Although neither the pies nor the dumpling blew us away, their overall quality is arguably well above typical diner fare. Besides you need an activity to occupy yourself while soaking up all that classic diner ambience, and it might as well be pie.

Take a day trip to Frederick and check out Barbara Fritchie Candystick Restaurant on your way back at:

1513 W. Patrick St.
Frederick, MD
(301) 662-2500

—AC

A Quest for Quaffs

Our friends the Ds are always turning us on to some cool hideaway for food or drink in our humble suburb. During a Friday night dinner outing, we got to talking about scotch and wine, and where to get good, affordable stuff, preferably from a purveyor who knows more than just a little about buying the stuff.

It took no time at all for them to regale us about Silesia Liquors, located in an extremely dumpy strip mall (and that’s being kind; there are only about three stores in the whole strip, and one of them used to sell feed) right across the Potomac River from us, in Fort Washington, Maryland. So we all set off on a Saturday morning expedition to Prince George’s County to scope out some wine and spirits.

What we had planned was to pop in, get a few things, and head back to Old Town for lunch. But lucky for us, we got sidetracked by a planned wine tasting that was to take place later that day. A vintner from Germany had traveled all the way to li'l ole Fort Washington to showcase her family’s wares. That little tidbit alone convinced us that this place, though disguised as a dump by its drab surroundings, was indeed a world-renowned purveyor of wine and spirits, helmed by one of the most generous and knowledgeable wine experts I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. KD said when she and her husband used to go there more often, they’d walk in, and the owner would ask “what’s for dinner?” She'd describe what she was preparing, and he’d grab something off the shelf and ring it up. And it was done.

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Walking into Silesia doesn’t do much for the eye in the beginning. Mixers, liters of coke, and other pedestrian items greet you at the door. But if you have any sense of what you’re after, a sharp turn to the right will get you where you need to go. Rows upon rows of wine, organized by region, go on forever.

Unfortunately, when I’m looking to buy something special, I need help. One of our friends was looking for a white. She had some specific flavor notes in mind, but other than that, needed a bit of guidance as well. The proprietor gave us all a riveting dissertation on various pinot gris grapes, among others. Before he could even get to the reds, I already had a Renwood 2004 Viognier ($10) in my hand.

When it was my turn, I gave him a vague notion of what I like, and he wasted no time grabbing a 2004 Chilean Casablanca Valley Pinot Noir ($12). Even though that was a bad year for the pinot grape, he was persuaded by the vintner to pick it up. And it was great, exactly what I like in a red—refreshing, lots of fruity and oaky flavors, not too acidic.

Same went for the Cotes du Rhone ($22) that AC insisted upon.

As we were looking around, the owner convinced us to stay in the area for lunch, so that we might enjoy the wine tasting later that afternoon. When I asked the owner how many wines were being sampled, he said, “Wherever the muse takes us.” I got the message—cancel your plans for the afternoon, stay in town, and come back and drink more. And so we did. We took his suggestion to try out Bangkok Golden for lunch, and enjoyed some of the best curry puffs we've ever had
and a deliciously light country curry.

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We returned for the
wine-tasting and sampled one of the muse's intense reds and several Rieslings from various stages of grape picking (the early pickings result in a less-sweet wine—my preference). Also crammed in this tiny corner of the store was an independent caterer preparing hors d'oeuvres, including two types of Asian chicken salad, and slices of tender roast beef, all of which were delicious.

On the other end of the store, AC was focused on the bounty of high-end scotches that were displayed along the back wall. AC settled on Aberlour's single cask strength A'bunadh, which he will discuss in a future post. It’s a good thing there’s a scotch expert on hand because otherwise, we’d have no clue what to get.

In fact, besides the owner, there seem to be at least two or three other employees who each have their own area of expertise, and are generous with their time and opinions. Tucked among the racks of wine and further underscoring this passion for their product is a bookshelf stacked with books not just limited to wine and spirits, but also covering subjects as diverse as art and opera, and even, inexplicably enough, the 1991 Michelin guide on dining in Spain and Portugal.

For expert commentary on wine, scotch, and more, visit Silesia Liquors at:

10909 Livingston Road
Fort Washington, Maryland
(301) 292-1542

—AK

Stealth Bolivian

The D.C. area has a number of restaurants that offer semi-stealthy ethnic sub-specialties. Tutto Bene, perhaps the most famous recent example of such places, looks like an unremarkable neighborhood Italian restaurant during the week, but then transforms itself each weekend into a destination for many members of the local Bolivian community. Its Bolivian menu is available until 3 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays. It’s worth noting that if you’re interested in trying Bolivian food, but your dining companions are resistant to your adventurous streak, Tutto Bene’s Italian menu seems to be available during those hours, as well.

I always start off with a chicken saltena, which is basically the Bolivian version of an empanada. A word of caution is necessary even for experienced empanada handlers. Bolivian saltenas typically have a fair amount of broth inside, so you’ll want to bite off the tip of the pastry and drink much of the broth before proceeding any further. I found out the hard way that ignorance of this method means scalding liquid running down your shirtsleeve. The golden brown pastry shell is beautiful to behold and not too buttery. Inside, the small pieces of chicken stewed with potato, peas, raisins, egg, and (hopefully) an olive comprise some of the most satisfying and portable comfort food ever devised. They seem to use a fair amount of cumin to spice the stew, and since that happens to be one of my favorite spices, it just puts their saltena over the top. The meat in the ground beef saltena was a bit fatty for my taste and doesn’t seem to work as well as the chicken does among the saltena’s stewed contents.

Though the sopa de mani is described on Bolivian menus as a peanut soup, it’s never come close to the sort of old fashioned Virginia peanut soup that I envision each time I see it listed on a Bolivian menu. In fact, it doesn’t seem to taste of peanuts at all, instead approximating a light cream soup with both boiled and french fried potatoes with stewed bits of beef both on and off the bone. Perhaps the peanuts are merely used as a thickener. Tutto Bene offers the finest rendition of this soup that I’ve had thus far.

I want to like pique a lo macho, but the hot dog slices that are typically served in this dish keep getting in the way. The first time I tried this dish, which was at a different restaurant, the menu English somehow translated whatever the Spanish word is for hot dog into sausage. So you can imagine my disappointment when I was hoping for spicy chorizo and instead found chunks of Oscar Mayer. At the time, I thought it was a fluke. Why ruin what would otherwise be an outstanding dish of sauteed beef, with slices of tomato, hardboiled egg, jalapeno, and onion on a bed of steak fries? And why should it be such a culinary stretch to offer chorizo instead of hot dog? Well, the inclusion of hot dog pieces is no fluke, as they have played the supporting meat in the pique a lo macho at each of the several Bolivian restaurants that I’ve been to. Unfortunately, at Tutto Bene at least, I was unable to simply push them aside, as their smoky hot dog essence tainted what would have otherwise been the wonderful broth in which the steak fries were idling. I’m a big time dunker, so tainted broth is a big deal to me. The chunks of beef mostly escaped the influence of hot dog, and were fairly tender from being sauteed in beer, though occasionally a bit tough.

But the real reason I came to Tutto Bene was to enjoy an encore presentation of their Silpancho, the Bolivian version of steak and eggs, and a superior one at that. A flattened, continent-shaped piece of steak very lightly breaded and fried, rests atop two eggs over easy, yet another pile of those perfectly crisp steak fries, and some rice. A salsa of chopped tomatos, onions, and jalapenos has been ladled over the steak, but when you run out of that (and you will because the steak is substantial), there’s always the complimentary ramekin of fiery llajua, the thin green Bolivian hot sauce of pureed tomatos and green chiles. It's a challenge to combine all of these elements in each forkful, so, thankfully, the delicate, wafer thin steak is just as tasty unadorned.

Though pink lemonade seemed to be the favored beverage of many of the regulars, we washed everything down with generous glasses of mocochinchi, an amber colored soft drink made from boiled peaches and cinammon. Indeed, that shadowy presence lurking at the bottom of each of our glasses is actually a dried peach. But the cinammon flavor has always overwhelmed any peach flavor whenever I’ve had mocochinchi, and Tutto Bene’s version is no exception.

Sadly, there are no Bolivian desserts at Tutto Bene, so assuming you have any space left, you can always opt for the novelty of chasing your Bolivian food with tiramisu, which is one of the three desserts that they make in house. Tutto Bene’s tiramisu actually was more like a tres leches cake than a tiramisu, as it had layers of cake and creamy frosting instead of rum and espresso soaked ladyfingers. It was merely okay, but not terrible if you absolutely need to finish the meal with a sweet.

Check out Tutto Bene for weekend Bolivian at:
501 N. Randolph St.
Arlington, VA
(703) 522-1005

—AC

Downtown Dining in Backwoods Maryland

When traveling, we'll pretty much go anywhere, provided there’s something good to eat along the way, at the destination, and on the way back from the destination.

This past weekend, we were seized by the notion of heading an hour north to Frederick for a couple of food adventures and several hours of shopping. The real credit for this trip goes to our friend KL, who, for a while, has been wanting to explore the city’s legendary vintage clothing stores and antique furniture purveyors. KL was visiting from New York, and since AC and I were long overdue for a day trip, we made it happen.

For lunch, we stopped at Monocacy Crossing, just several miles south of historic Frederick. The restaurant, housed in a nondescript, possibly refurbished, roadside inn, was totally missable, as it sat quietly tucked away on a two-lane country highway. Contrary to what usually happens, we actually spotted it and found a makeshift parking spot in the gravelly “lot” of the restaurant.

Upon entering, diners might catch a glimpse of the none-too-subtle display of a chef’s jacket from the Culinary Institute of America, embroidered with the head chef’s name. A sign of good things to come, we thought.

One of the first things we noticed while perusing the menu was the ample selection of bygone cocktails, namely The Grasshopper and The Pink Squirrel, two drinks that we poked fun at for about 10 minutes before eventually ordering them. The Grasshopper sold us on the crème de menthe alone, and indeed, it tasted like liquefied mint ice cream and took on the same almost neon green hue. The other constituent parts were white crème de cacoa and cream. The Pink Squirrel required a bit more investigation. It includes creme de noyaux, white crème de cacoa, and cream. Noyaux turned out to be almondy (rather than hazelnut, which we thought in the beginning), and was clearly responsible for the Barbie-doll pink color. Almond flavoring adds a complex greatness to so many things, and this was no exception. Next time, we'll have a go at the Harvey Wallbanger.

For the appetizer, we went for the Asian Spiced Ribs with Peanut Sauce. The meat was tender and flavored with a spicy marinade, and the velvety peanut sauce was much appreciated, as we sopped up every last bit of it with whatever pieces of the hot, garlicky homemade bread was leftover (not much).

AC's Saute of Pork Tenderloin with Sage-Cider Sauce was a truly new experience.  While I’ve enjoyed many a delicious marinade, none was so ever-present as this one. Many marinades taste great on impact, but don't hold their flavor through the chewing and the swallowing of every food morsel. In this case, every bite offered up a new burst of cider, a waft of sage, and what we decided was a liberal helping of ginger. The flavors were fresh, light, and, as always, anything apple-oriented is a great complement to a tender slab of pork. The dish came with creamy skin-on mashed potatoes, and lightly sautéed snap peas.

KL ordered the Open Lobster and Crab Ravioli with Asparagus. It would be wrong to call these colossal squares of pasta just “ravioli.” These, rather, were like duvet covers made of thin homemade pasta—huge (probably four by four), thin, squares of tender al dente pasta very delicately stuffed with generous amounts of crab and lobster in a rich lobster cream sauce. Though heavy, the filling was delicious and original. The dish was topped with sautéed asparagus.

After lunch, AC admitted to me that when I decided on the Crispy Eggplant Napoleon with Grilled Vegetables and Tomato Cream that he thought this would be the boring concession to vegetarians, and would therefore be a tasteless mound of soggy veggie saute. When AC is quick to judge, he can sometimes be wrong. For those of you who regularly read ST, you know I hardly ever eschew eggplant. And though I prefer to enjoy meat at a nice place, I had a feeling this would be a delightful interpretation of my favorite oblong and oft-maligned vegetable. Fortunately, I was right. Three rounds of crispy, lightly fried eggplant were alternated by massive helpings of delicately grilled bell peppers, squash, and zucchini, all sitting in a pool of homemade light, creamy marinara sauce. It would be really easy to overgrill the vegetables, resulting in a mushy pile of plant matter. But each veggie slice was thick, hot, and retained its rigidity, and still had that fleshy texture that a nice grilled veggie should have. The eggplant was fabulous. Clearly, the chef had fried it in some proprietary seasoned bread-crumb mixture that gave the fried eggplant almost a loud crunch.

Next time, we won’t eat so much or drink two cream-based cocktails so we can actually enjoy the homemade Coconut Pound Cake.

Take a day trip to Frederick and stop in at Monocacy Crossing along the way at:

4424 Urbana Pike
Frederick, Maryland
(301) 846-4204

—AK

Ye Olde Chocolate Covered Potato Chippe

Between Kingsbury Chocolates and the more recent arrival of HazelSnooks, Old Town, Alexandria finally enjoys a full range of confectionary stylings- from old fashioned candy shoppe to haute chocolatier. Kingsbury Chocolates has received no shortage of attention, and deservedly so, but HazelSnooks deserves more attention than just an obligatory blurb in the Alexandria Gazette Packet.

Like Kingsbury Chocolates, HazelSnooks is family owned and operated, and many of its wares are made on the premises. In addition to its homemade items, it also offers a number of vintage candy favorites, such as Sugar Daddies, Pixie Stix, Mary Janes, and, best of all, Wax Lips.

And though they initially intended their Sno-Cones as a seasonal offering, a flurry of wintertime demand means that HazelSnooks now offers this syrup and ice delicacy year-round. In fact, the proprietor told us that one gentleman stops by after lunch every day for a double Sno-Cone digestif. They have an impressive array of Sno-Cone syrups from mystery flavors like Skylite to questionable flavors like Egg Custard to old standards such as cherry, lime, and lemon, among others. And the friendly proprietor will gladly offer a sample taste of the syrup in case you’re feeling adventurous, but don’t want to commit to something that turns out to be heinous.

HazelSnooks' cinammon glazed almonds and pecans have the potential for dangerous snacking. And they periodically offer sour cream pecans, which may sound peculiar, but the sugary sour cream glaze will have you wondering what other sweets sour cream might enliven.

The peppermint bark is more like a slab, its chocolate half and creamy peppermint candy half merge so succesfully that it makes a mockery of the York Peppermint Patty. And the non-chocolate side of the butter pecan bark is still slick with buttery baked essence, reminding you that it’s probably a good idea to share the gloriousness of fat calories with others.

Their fluffy, homemade marshmallows are skewered, coated in chocolate, and sprinkled with all manner of toppings from graham cracker crumbles for a S’mores effect to sprinkles to peanut butter chips. I found that while these can be enjoyed at room temperature, ten or so seconds in the microwave and the resulting gooey, chocolatey mass is heavenly. I tried the S’mores, which was irresistable after a brief nuking, although the graham cracker crumbles’ insubstantial presence could not stand up to the chocolate and marshmellow overload.

HazelSnooks' devotion to exploring the intersection of salty and sweet is what differentiates it from your typical “Ye Olde Candy Shoppe.” At first, the milk chocolate covered potato chips seem to be an unsuccessful experiment. Sure, the salt and chocolate commingle in a friendly manner, but the starchy potato flavor is an offputting pairing for the chocolate. But then you have a second chocolate covered chip to confirm your feelings about the first, and then another until you finally realize that they are downright addictive.

Pretzel sticks are deployed two at a time, covered in chocolate and then coated in everything from chunks of Heath Bar to M&Ms. The chocolate and Heath Bar coated pretzel sticks are especially decadent.

Check out HazelSnooks at:

111 South Alfred St.
Alexandria, VA
(703) 683-8343

—AC

Persian Immersion

So after lamenting the lack of gelaterias in the D.C. area, I decided to tap the collective wisdom of the folks on Chowhound to see if there were other gelato options beyond Dolcezza.

And it turns out that there is a gelateria in a very unlikely setting- a Persian market in Rockville called Sam’s Cafe and Market. According to one of the folks on Chowhound:

(Sam) actually was trained and started making gelato while he lived in Italy. He then brought the equipment with him when he came to US. He will make flavors (in season) to order if you make arrangements ahead - ask for a batch of bosc pear (or fig) when the season hits.

So after hitting Bob’s Noodle 66 and Aji Ichiban, we headed over to the shopping center to see if Sam’s could fill our gelato void.

Sam’s offers nearly 30 flavors at any one time out of a total roster of 85 or so. But as soon as I was able to survey the gelato case, I knew that Sam’s would fall short of the high standard to which we were accustomed at places like St. Ambroeus and Il Gelatone back in New York. The colors are the dead giveaway. Some of the flavors were colored in shades of neon that simply do not occur in nature. For instance, the pistachio was a bright green instead of the dull, brownish green of the pistachio gelato that I used to get at Il gelatone.

Nevertheless, we decided to try a cup with half Persian Vanilla and half French Custard. The texture of Sam’s gelato is actually somewhere between gelato and regular ice cream. It’s much thicker and far less creamy than just about anything claiming to be gelato that we’ve ever had.

The French Custard had a pleasing buttery caramel taste. And the Persian Vanilla, colored with saffron and flavored with rosewater, was almost worth the additional schlep out there. AK, however, thought the rosewater was added with a heavy hand, and it did seem to err a bit on the side of perfumey. Still, it's fascinating to have the opportunity to try an Italian culinary artform like gelato that's been filtered through a Persian sensibility.

We did poke around the Persian market, and the range of wares they managed to stuff into their tiny space was amazing.


They have a capital selection of roasted nuts and dried fruits.


But we were captivated by this plate of dried persimmons. We've never seen dried persimmons before, and though I'm not a big fan of persimmons, I regret not walking off with a few of them.


This vat of olives soaking in brine along with halves of preserved lemon and a few stray chili peppers was awfully tempting.


Sam's also has a whole shelf displaying various brands of rosewater, and another shelf with oddities such as borage water, willow water, and cumin seeds water.


And I was absolutely charmed by the packaging for this dried apricot paste.


Across the parking lot from Sam’s is a Persian bakery called Yasaman Bakery. We scored a number of treats that were visually appealing, but found most of them to be unremarkable: overly drenched in rosewater and cloyingly sweet.

But the fact that this place was absolutely mobbed by the local Persian community suggests that either we lack the taste for Persian sweets or we just weren’t hitting their strong points.

Check out Sam's Cafe and Market at:
765 Rockville Pike
Rockville, MD
(301) 424-1600

Check out Yasaman Bakery at:
785J Rockville Pike
Rockville, MD
(301) 762-5416

—AC