Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Man, I’ve eaten so much shrimp lately, I feel like Bubba from Forrest Gump. Shrimp cocktail, shrimp rolls, shrimp scampi, shrimp fettucine, shrimp creole...and I’ve had amazing Key lime pie more than once—that’s the southeast for you. Oh, last night we went to a great Indian restaurant (called the Bombay Club), I ordered a mixed thali platter, and there was even shrimp in there!! The sauce it was in (a green lemongrass seafood curry sauce) was the best thing on the plate though—I mopped it up with my naan. The meal was placed before me on a leaf-shaped silver platter with tiny little silver bowls in a circle around a cylindrical mound of yellow lemon-cashew rice. Each held a different saucy sample—cinnamon-y lam curry, chicken tikka masala, black daal, and raita. The flavors were so exotic and rich, I’m actually thankful that the bowls were so little.

Also in D.C., I was sitting at the bar at Clyde’s in Georgetown (wood & brass, the whole old-school deal), having a late lunch by myself, overhearing some interesting things. Two barstools over, an employee who was off-duty was telling the woman next to her how most of the produce that they use comes from small local farms (and she named a few). She was talking about the blueberries that came alongside their Key lime pie (there it was again!). In making menu recommendations, she suggested “our mozzarella with heirloom tomatoes—they’re SO much better than processed tomatoes.” Which is so true, and I was so impressed, in such a stodgy looking place. So, the aforementioned woman sitting next to me orders a gin and gingerale, first asking if they had gingerale. She told the bartender that she had been to more than one place that didn’t have it. The bartender smirked and said, “wanna know a little piece of information? Gingerale is just sprite with a splash of Coke.” The woman looked kinda pleased and accepted that answer along with her drink, but I wasn’t buying it. Um—ginger ale has ginger in it—or at least artificial ginger flavor, right? Oh, and news to her, there isn’t Sprite called Sierra Mist these days? Or maybe that was the beverage formerly known as 7up. It’s hard to keep track. Anyway, that experience fills in the gaps of why the same drink tastes so different from one bar to the next. For the record, their sauvignon blanc by the glass was pretty smooth, as, I hear, most of their wines are.

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