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

Munchies Paradise

It’s amazing how little coverage Aji Ichiban has received in the local food media. The Rockville location of this Hong Kong based chain of snack emporiums is just two doors down from Bob’s Noodle 66, and according to the cashier, it’s been there for about three years already. Aji Ichiban used to figure prominently in our Chinatown jaunts back when we lived in New York, as this self proclaimed “Munchies Paradise” offers dozens of bins of Chinese-style high weirdness. So if you’ve been putting off that schlep out to Bob’s Noodle 66, Aji Ichiban’s proximity to Bob's easily transforms your expedition into a twofer.

While some of their candied and pickled fruit oddities can be found at Chinese supermarkets like Kam Sam, Aji Ichiban not only has the most extensive array of such snacks, but also offers samples of just about everything. And that’s extremely helpful since much of their bounty, though interesting in concept, is likely repulsive to the Western palate. Nevertheless, if you’re interested in experiencing the extremes of sweet, sour, and salty, then a little bag of goodies goes a long way. I once bought a small bag of their preserved ginger root that had been candied and pickled, and the intense spice of the ginger was so powerful that it took me about 6 months to finish gnawing away at a mere handful of roots.


Of course, Aji Ichiban does offer a number of gummies and other less off-putting candies that are appealing to the Western palate.



Directly opposite these appealing and colorfully wrapped candies, however, is a veritable oceanic atrocity exhbition featuring bins of Hokkaido shredded squid, dried Isoyaki eel, and crispy spicy codfish, among others. That’s just in case you forgot where you were for a moment.

Among Aji Ichiban’s less daunting treats, we’re big fans of their answer to the Peanut M&M: chocolate covered sunflower seeds in colorful candy shells just like Mars’ finest.

The strawberry plum is a dried plum that has somehow been so fused with the essence of strawberry, that I actually had to pull it apart to determine that it was, in fact, a plum. It's easily the sweetest and juiciest of all of the dried fruit snacks that we tried.

The wrinkled skin of the sweet and sour peach yields to a tender interior with the perfect ratio of sweet to sour. Just be mindful of the pit.

Interestingly enough, though the olive is most often associated with Mediterranean cuisine, Aji Ichiban offers a half-dozen varieties of candied dried olives.

The jumbo-sized “preserved spicy olives” are a deep chili red with a crunchy interior that has a nice bit of sweetness and mellow heat.

The licorice olives are greenish brown and smaller. The licorice and the olive taste combine more for a sweet and sour effect than anything approaching licorice.

By now, you can probably tell that the genius of Chinese snack makers is their ability to start with a standard item like a peach or a plum and somehow transmogrify it into something that offers almost no hint of its original state.

And lest you think that Aji Ichiban’s oddities only appeal to a narrow swath of humanity, their website proclaims:

Aji Ichiban is also recognized by many political leaders as one of the best munchies paradise. Their honored visits to our retail stores is yet another proof of our popularity.

Check out Aji Ichiban at:

309 N. Washington St.

Rockville, MD

(301) 610-7798

—AC

Taiwanese Burger in Paradise

AC and I have discovered that a great meal isn’t necessarily measured by the experience of eating entrées. One can eat amply and, in some cases, more interestingly by sampling a variety of appetizers than just one seemingly adventurous entrée.

We had one such experience this past weekend at Bob’s Noodle 66 in Rockville during our daylong eatfest just north of the District. We had read that Rockville is now the official Chinatown of the DC area, offering an astounding variety of Asian restaurants in the city’s seemingly infinite stretch of Rockville Pike. And indeed, in every strip mall of every block there was an Asian food mart, noodle joint, or some other manner of Asian food purveyor.

At Bob’s, we sat down, completely famished after a 45-minute drive from Northern Virginia, and went straight for the appetizers menu, which featured a couple dozen of some of the strangest things we’ve seen on a Chinese menu (and we’ve certainly seen our share), including Spicy Pig Ear Slice and Five-flavor Squid. We weren’t up for the slice or the squid, but we did go for a couple things that seized our imaginations. We went for the Taiwanese Hamburger, the Rice Sausage, and on the rice/noodle list, the Taiwanese Dry Noodle (as opposed to noodle soups, of which there are at least 20).

The clear star of this production was the Taiwanese Hamburger. The “burger” portion was actually a slab of sweet, spicy marinated fatty pork. In fact, our waitress warned us before we committed to the item that the pork was indeed “fatty.” We nodded in agreement, affirming our choice. The meat, delicious and, of course, fatty, was housed in a fluffy steamed bun and accompanied by a sauce of chopped pickled mustard greens and cilantro—one of the most refreshing and delightful condiments in existence. It was somewhat sweet, extremely sour, and bursting with cool crispness, owing to the cilantro. And a dusting of peanut powder added a bit of sweetness and crunch.

The Taiwanese Dry Noodle was equally delicious. Linguine-style flat noodles were mixed with a spicy ground pork sauce, more fatty pork, bean sprouts, chives, and a “marinated egg,” which reminded us of the Thousand Year Old Egg we’ve had at other Chinese restaurants. The Thousand Year Old Egg is pickled and has a bit of tartness, while this egg tasted like a regular hard-boiled egg with only a hint of spice. The dish was a true original and, for me at least, is the chinese version of Bolognese—the ultimate comfort food.

The experiment for the day was the Rice Sausage, which is described in the menu as “pig intestine with sweet rice and peanuts. Special sauce on the side.” This was truly one of the weirdest things we’ve tried anywhere. The sausage came sliced in rounds. While the innards of the sausage were largely vegetarian, the plate came to us with a faint musk of the intestine, a bit disarming at first. The filling was a faintly sweet sushi-style rice (small grains, sticky, creamy, my favorite), flecked with boiled peanuts that we guess were probably marinated in the favored five-spice mixture often found in Chinese food. The “special sauce” was, in my view, nothing special; it tasted like a sweeter version of soy sauce, perhaps hoisin or a close relative.

AC and I were hard-pressed to come up with a conclusion as to how we felt about the dish. There was little taste overall, as the rice, peanuts and snap of the sausage casing contributed more to a textural experience than a flavorful adventure. Still, it was interesting, and for those of you who enjoy experiencing specialty items simply because of a strange name such as Rice Sausage (or Spicy Pig Ear Slice, if you will) or a singular ingredient that seems intriguing, you should most definitely try Rice Sausage.

Though it wasn’t the tastiest thing on earth, the papaya shake was a cold, refreshing palate cleanser that offered us a much-needed respite from the sweet marinades and salty sauces we were shoveling down our gullets. One important note: When ordering one of their shakes, the waiters will ask if you’d like “bubbles,” which are large tapioca balls often found in Japanese tea drinks. We suggest you steer clear of the bubbles, which, though wonderful in Asian milk tea drinks, are not conducive to the enjoyment of a thick yogurty fruit beverage.

All said, Bob’s Noodle 66 is tops on our list. Who knows, maybe our next adventure will include their celebrated Duck Tongue with Basil or one of the handful of dishes featuring dried bean curd. AC—you game?

Experiment at Bob’s Noodle 66 at:

305 N. Washington Street
Rockville, MD
(301) 315-6668

—AK

An Argentine Bakery Binge

Along with dulce de leche, choripan has to be considered one of Argentina’s great contributions to world cuisine: grilled chorizo on a grilled baguette. It just doesn’t get any more elemental than that. Unfortunately, our trip to El Patio, an Argentine bakery and cafe, came at the very end of our whirlwind tour of Rockville’s culinary delights. Since El Patio was our fifth destination that day, we opted to get a number of baked goods that we could take home to enjoy later, instead of made-to-order items like choripan.

El Patio offers a tempting array of empanadas, tartas (Argentina’s take on quiche), and tortillas (Spanish style omelettes usually eaten at room temperature).

In contrast to the meal-sized empanadas served at Julia’s Empanadas, El Patio’s empanadas are more akin to cocktail hour treats.

The carne empanada was pleasing enough, it’s flaky pasty concealing ground beef mixed with bits of hard-boiled egg, onions, and red peppers. Sadly, no olive seemed to be hidden amongst its contents.

We also tried the choclo empanada which was braided pastry purse stuffed with corn and onions in a light, barely discernable sauce. The menu promised bechamel sauce, so while I was disappointed at the choclo empanada’s relatively dry interior, El Patio deserves credit for offering an empanada variation that I’ve not seen anywhere else.

Among the savories, the espinaca tortillla was the clear stand-out. Each hefty slab is densely packed with spinach with only the barest amount of egg to hold everything together. We were actually grateful for the veggie interlude which included not just spinach, but also bits of tomato, green pepper, and onion. In addition to a few whole cloves of garlic, the tortilla had a strong spice presence that may have been cumin.

The pastries are understandably dulce de leche centric. Though the puff pastry looked a bit tired and dilapidated, we figured that a combination of dulce de leche and buttery pastry could overcome any physical shortcomings. But this pastry was every bit as unremarkable as it appears.

I was more excited about the shell-shaped meringues appealingly glued together with dulce de leche and topped off with a cherry. But it’s exceedingly difficult to handle this meringue sandwich without getting it all over the place. In fact, I assumed my hunched piglet stance over our kitchen sink, the better to catch the errant bits of meringue shrapnel flying off from my dessert induced frenzy. It seems that I do some of my best eating over our kitchen sink. Although I wanted it to work, the meringue was a bit bland, and its porous texture seemed to have absorbed the faintest essence of other items in the refrigerated case.

Despite the fact that most of our selections were underwhelming, we still only tried a small sampling of El Patio’s bounty. In addition to their rendition of choripan, I remain curious about their sandwiches de miga, described as “tea sandwiches made with Argentine specialty crumb bread.”

—AC

Land of Enchanting Pancakes

Editor's Note: Every once in a while, we will feature a guest columnist who has such a noteworthy food experience, that we must force them to lend the experience to Suburban Tasteland. In this first case, it is my mother, DV, who recently traveled to New Mexico and had the best pancakes ever. She shared the following account of her experience via email:

As you know very well, breakfast is just not my favorite meal. It simply is too much work and too early in the morning. I would rather have an additional 50 winks and pick up a venti chai at Starbucks. But, I have come across something that is actually worth hauling out of the sack for. Of course in your case, it happens to be a rather long haul, since this restaurant is in Pecos, New Mexico, which is not far from Santa Fe. What they do with pancakes, which I don’t actually like a lot anyway, is simply amazing. These babies come off the grill about 1½ to 1¾ inches high. These cakes would put Aunt Jemima into a jealous rage. The best part is that you can order them with blueberries or pinon (pine nuts). I opted for both with a tub of butter and real maple syrup. These fluffy little devils, of course, are not standalone items. They come with the usual brace of eggs and the obligatory strips of bacon.

While I did not try the eggs rancheros, I am told they are wonderful. And of course, when you order, you are posed the question of the ages—“red or green?” This only refers to the color of chili sauce you want with the eggs. The waitress assured me that there was no material difference except color, but people seem to have rather strong preferences anyway. Breakfast is served with tortillas, not toast.

The venue in Pecos is a place called Frankie's Casanova. The restaurant is housed in an old trading post built in the 1920s and is very well preserved. By the way, the desserts (a far better notion than breakfast in my estimation) looked remarkable. These delights were on a small table and for some reason looked like they had been brought in for a church social. No calories were spared here.

The bar is named for the owner’s brother, who owned the bar down the dusty highway. The bar has been shuttered since Frankie was shot and killed in a gunfight in the bar. His brother thought that the new restaurant was a fitting tribute. As you can tell, the Wild West lives on. Try ’em if you ever get anywhere near Pecos.

Visit Frankie's Casanova at:

Corner Hwy 50 and Hwy 63
Pecos, NM
(505) 757-3322

—DV