Food

and awful photography

Dinner at Bul

25/9/22

Our waiter placed a bottle of water on the table with steel cups, so yardy know.

We ordered honey yuzu tea to share.  My companion noted that she will be thinking about that tea for a long time to come.  I ordered the bulgogi rice.  Both our meals arrived with a ramikin of sweet and spicy sauce.  Now, y'all know i do not typically eat beef, but i know the word bulgogi comes from the Korean for "an amazing time with delicious sliced beef," so i opted for it.  It harbored a flavor that made me exclaim.  I grew ungovernable and profane; i had to rise from my seat and circle.  I have never wished fellatio so vehemently for a chef.  Was this a new level?  Would this set a new bar?  Would life ever be the same?

The flavor outlasted me; its richness almost became burdensome towards the bottom of the bowl.

As i approached the dregs, our waiter asked if i needed a spoon, which was cute, but i persevered with my chopsticks.  Perhaps i had arrived heavily outgunned, but i left more experienced, better seasoned, ready for more life.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Scrapple

17/5/22

I got a guy.  A scrapple guy.  I have a guy for scrapple at the Allentown Fairgrounds, who gave me a free quarter-pound sample and instructed me on its preparation.  Sear it thoroughly on one side; do not aggravate it.  Flip it after five to ten minutes, and sear the other side.  You should see a crispy layer form.

I am inclined to say i nailed it.

Scrapple is what sausage aspires to be.  Crispier than sausage on the outside, more delicate and spicy on the inside.  People eat it with all sorts of condiments, including maple syrup, mustard, and ketchup.  I wrinkled my nose at the thought of ketchupy pork, but after consumption, i accept it without endorsing it.  Personally, i found myself partial to a grainy mustard or chili sauce on my scrapple slab.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Ice Cream at Premise Maid

15/5/22

Premise Maid guarantees a good time for the whole family.  This is a quality creamery that makes good use of its proximity to cows.

I ordered a sampler trio of the black raspberry, cherry cordial, and blueberry cheesecake.  My companion ordered a double scoop of cocomel and shoofly pie.

We could do with less Disney^® music, but the quality of the product overcomes any ickyness of atmosphere.  On this visit, we saw a middle-aged man sit alone, engrossed in his frozen treat.  I could see something of myself in him.  We have to subtract points for the styrofoam bowls; we shall overcone.

I asked the girl working behind the counter if she was the premise maid.  She said "No, thankfully not."  But why be so judgmental of the maid?  I would not mind being the Maid.  The Maid leaves us with fond tastes and memories.  The Maid should be in every town.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Chapulin

11/1/22

Chapulines are the red pill of the real world.  Nothing is the same after swallowing one of these.  Not because they are delicious, but because you will have eaten a bug.

The only thing that prepared me for this was cliff-diving.  Purveyors offer samples in an innocent enough manner.  They put one in my hand, where i had watched many edible things land before—coffee beans, chocolate, cornbread, et cetera.  But this one watched me back.  At a surface level, it would seem simple to pop it back into my mouth.  But something primordial stirred and prevented it.

Fear is the mind-killer.

I tried once, then twice with no success.  I winced at the vendor.

You have already decided.  You are already off the edge.  I popped it back and chewed quickly.

It has the distinct crunch of a fried food, and a soft interior.  It would probably work well in a taco.  The little legs do not yield much to mastication.  I swallowed a chapulin and woke up in the real world; it is fine.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Lazeez

16/10/21

The initiated among my peers had told legends of the food at Lazeez.  I found it difficult to believe that an establishment with carpet floors in a strip mall, tucked between a Subway^® and the armed forces recruitment station could serve Mediterranean cuisine of more than mediocre caliber.  But looks can deceive.

I finally stopped in today and ordered the Arnabeet wrap.  Tiles have replaced the carpet, and pictures of the Levant hang.  One of the ladies of Lazeez brought me a square plate with the sandwich and a little square of namoora.  Minus points for gratuitous plasticware.  A grilled pita swaddled fried cauliflower, pickles, hummus, and tahini in a moist, expertly-seasoned package.

Believe the hype.  Good, saucy things are happening in this place.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Doi Moi Takeout

13/2/21

It was restaurant week and the Super Bowl, so we balled out on some fancy Vietnamese food.  For the appetizer round, i ordered the tangy Brussels sprouts.  My friends had the dumplings.  Doi Moi was two for two at that point. 

My main course was the fun and saucy drunken noodle.  They used a noodle shape that was like, rhombuses.  The sauce was brown and a delicious cross of umami and sweet and spicy.  I poured the red chili sauce from the dumplings over my noodles for extra heat.  Mushrooms and okra added big chomp to noodle slurps.

For dessert, Doi Moi served up sticky rice with mango and butterfly sauce.  What the heck is butterfly sauce?  It turns out to be basically runny blue frosting.  Though dessert was entirely too sweet for me, it opened my eyes to a world of sweet rice, which might inform my tastes and kitchen experiments in the future.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Snap Dragon Apple

17/12/20

They named this one correctly.  It is on par with the Fuji in crispyness, but not so sweet.  Finally, a version of the apple that meets my texture expectations without potentially rotting my teeth.  This apple rocks my socks.  It will not put pounds on you.  Rock on Chicago.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Evercrisp Apple

14/3/20

This aptly-named apple is tight as a rubber band.  Genuinely crispy and sweet, imagine if a Fuji went supersonic.  Evercrisp, like Evermore, Eversource Energy, Evernote, Everlane, Everclear, Everlasting Gobstoppers, et cetera, unabashedly evokes abundance.  This is the apple of post-scarcity times.  Or children short on pocket change.  One bite launches you into a loop of crunch limited only by your sample rate.  Like snare drums, the crisps generate potential energy in their absence (Shiva once said, while describing Moksha, "Or in the spaces between, feel this as lightning").

—Muffin Man Magookas

Sunday Brunch at The Smith

16/2/20

It turns out that you get a complimentary brunch cocktail with some brunch entrées at The Smith.  I ordered the vanilla bean French toast.  The French toast was good, though it came with fostered bananas (too sweet for my morning), and i did not really taste the vanilla.  But that brioche, bro!  The Smith compensates for its train-station restroom decor with excellent service.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Nighttime Beverages at Tryst

10/1/20

Tryst offers a solid alternative to bar-hopping on those Fridays that have you sliding face first into home.  Tryst comes close to the Hygge virtue, but refuses to sacrifice fire safety for coziness, opting for dim lighting over candles.  And its situation in the heart of Adams Morgan's nightlife attracts cathartic, celebratory energy on weekends.  Nevertheless, it offers a necessary oasis in a play-hard culture.

I ordered the taro and beetroot latte with almond milk.  It reminded us of something.  Whether that something was Abuelita hot chocolate or mulled cider or tejate, i still do not know.  It was, in any case, deliciously earthen and interesting.  My companion ordered the rooibos tea.  Each arrived with a powerfully rich little butter cookie.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Dinner at HalfSmoke

11/5/19

In the wake of the Funk Parade and a subsequent downpour, i bought my mother dinner at HalfSmoke.  HalfSmoke is the boardgame-laden sausage parlour and YoPro haven on the corner of Florida and seventh street (Chuck Brown Way).  They have a bratwurst called "Bustin' Loose." Is this homage or swagger-jacking?  Discuss.

The front of house lacked any sense of urgency, but they sort of make up for it by leaving a bottle of water on the table, which checks a box for me.

They boil the rice real lightly at HalfSmoke, so bring your dente if you plan to order grains.  The menu at HalfSmoke does not explicitly limit the number of toppings you can order.  That works to the advantage of people who feel no sense of shame or empathy and want to order every vegetable topping.  I really should have gotten more sauce, too.

At HalfSmoke, where Video Home System tape cases contain your checks and Trapper Keepers^® bind the menus, where Jay-Z and Janet Jackson play on mounted flatscreens, it is always your primetime—the nineties.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Dinner at Sakuramen

31/3/19

Sakuramen made me ask, "Do we only review good places?" and answer: No. 

Sakuramen redeems its faults right out the gate with excellent service from handsome and amiable young men.  Their meals reach heights of umami seldom seen in this hemisphere.  And they stock good kimchi (put it in the broth, y'all).

Ramen is noodles in broth.  Broth and noodles are critical to ramen.  The pork broth is fatty but otherwise unremarkable.  The sakuramen (vegetable) broth is actually pretty dope once the kimchi dives in there.  The staff will encourage you to order extra toppings, and i will second that if you are after a fuller-bodied broth.  But the price will add up quickly.  In the noodle department, Sakuramen goes soft.  Understanding that ramen is noodles in broth, we still believe one could cook these noodles less.  It is our dente and we want it now!

I led the way to A Rake's Progress for dessert, belching umami belches with uncommon frequency.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Fourth Meal at Annie's Paramount Steakhouse

31/3/19

After hours of shimmying, swaying, popping, and locking, you are exhausted from hip to toe, and the profound hunger unique to the wee hours takes hold.  You shuffle eastward, without aim, as last calls punt revelers onto the sidewalks.  As you pass shuttered establishments, you hear murmurs of a rumor of a legend.  Who is serving food to the weary of this night post-mortem?

Annie's is.

Annie's Paramount Steakhouse (not strictly a steakhouse, but paramount to one, i suppose) is that storied mecca of hospitality.  At the beginning of this year, the James Beard Foundation named Annie's an American Classic.  This is also the year of their seventy-fifth anniversary!  Annie's, in her enduring grace, opens its doors for twenty-four hours on weekends.  Now, why is DC so utterly devoid of such places?  What is so wrong with this city?  It probably goes back to the height ordinance, but whatever.

Of course, anybody could remain open all night.  But Annie's delivers quality diner grub, and that is what makes it a destination, not just a fancy 7-Eleven.  The employees of Annie's are missionaries; we are their flock.  They cut their fries wide and fry them hot so they are crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside.  We can rest our weary heads there on the potato pillow.  They sautè mushrooms with care and slather them on the garden burger under ripe avocado.  Annie's food finds your nocturnal hunger pangs and knocks them the fuck out.

One dedicated waiter ran the whole packed floor that night.  Heroes wear aprons.  We tipped probably more than i ever have, except this one time at Red Robin...but i digress.  That guy has a job if i ever open my restaurant.

We sat beside Rubin and Freddie, who are, you know, sisters.  In the convivial, high-decibel atmosphere, it felt natural to converse with them.  But i started to wonder, out of statistical curiosity, why—and this is not to brag—so many dudes here were hitting on me.  We looked outside.  Lampposts bore the rainbow flag.  A banner of little pride flags decorated the threshold of a Subway^®.  Men were kissing men.  Women gazed deeply into the eyes of women.  Welcome to the gayborhood!  According to histories of DC, the LGBT community, cast out of mainstream society, moved into Logan Circle after the riots in the late sixties when property values were low and renovated the neighborhood.  They deserve this nice thing.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Lunch at Falafel Inc

3/2/19

Falafel Inc's falafel ballas are light and fluffy.  The ingredients are ground and chopped finely, indicating the use of appliances.  These balls stood in opposition to the Amsterdam Falafel philosophy of falafel (falasophy?).  The falafel's supporting cast included red cabbage, hummus, pickles, and lettuce.  This was actually a quite straightforward sandwich, but nicely executed. 

Falafel Inc. rejects mod interior design, opting to bare their oriented strand board on the walls and ceiling.  Other fast-casual spots erect a wall between payments and kitchen areas.  Here, the register is embedded in the assembly line.  The deep belly of the kitchen—where fryers bubble and heavy machinery turns—lies in full view beyond the counter.  Their equivalent of tickets ringing in is the cashier leaning to the girl next to her and saying "two."

At four dollars, the sandwiches are radically inexpensive for Georgetown.  And a portion of Falafel Inc's revenue provides meals for refugees.  Humanitarianism and cuisine have always had intertwined values.  This facet of the Falafel Inc experience makes it more enjoyable, more significant, and more repeatable.  I hope they withstand the other falafel spots in their proximity.

Falafel, the jewel of the Levant, potentially breeds division or concordance, depending on context.  Falafel Inc deploys the fried goodies to sow peace.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Piñata Apple

19/1/19

This may be the tangiest apple i have encountered.  Its sourness could complement a crumble or a caramel sauce dip.  Its core has a high structural integrity.  O Piñata, are you a Granny Smith in disguise?  Please do not catfish my palette.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Dinner at The Shelby

20/12/18

i have to take issue with the interior design at this establishment.  I considered taking a stand on only discussing the food but fuck it, this is the Muffin Man Magookas eating experience blog; we do what we want!  A wall of pictures from the seventies flanked our table.  My heart sank a little because this made me feel a little Ruby Tuesdayish.  Beyond my companion's head somebody had mounted a long mirror horizontally, so that i could surveil other patrons and their dishes.  Above the mirror, a massive print of a woman's (presumably Shelby's) silhouette stood among unicorn fantasy colors.  Who are their clientele?  Lo-fi Instagram hipsters in film school or the America High Class of 1975?

But i digress.

When we arrived at our table, the hostess toppled the pepper shaker, leaving a little hillock of ground black peppercorn on table for the duration of the meal, daring me to sneeze.  Apart from this oversight, our server performed in outstanding fashion.  And they leave a bottle of water on the table, something every mildly formal seated restaurant should do.

For round one we ordered malanga chips with tzatziki sauce.  The cooks had empowered this tzatziki with lime and chili.  Together, these created a potent combination.  I suspect they incorporated something more than plain yogurt—like sour cream or crème fraîche—which would account for its surplus tang.  They cut the malanga chips thicker and fried them longer than i have in my experience in kitchens.  That turned out to be a good thing.  Somehow those malanga chips make you compulsively eat one after another.

I ordered the vegetable lasagna.  The dish that arrived consisted of stewed mushrooms and vegetables between three to four layers of spiced soft tofu co-starring with Fontina cheese topped with trumpet mushrooms structured rectangularly in a moat of pomodoro sauce.  So, like, the tofu was where the noodles were supposed to be.  Micro-cilantro offered a verdant contrast as garnish.  Now, making tofu flavorful is a Herculean task.  This lasagna was a tasty and original vegetarian dish.  Seeing a culinary team go out of their way to offer an uncommon option to the world's herbivores that does not suck is really really nice. 

One of my companions ordered the salmon which came with a potato risotto.  The pork Ossobucco arrived with candied pears.  The team at Shelby is making food that makes you go "Huh, this is interesting." They are re-purposing ingredients and well-loved dishes, inverting traditional expectations in Allentown, Pennsylvania.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Ambrosia Apples

19/12/18

The Ambrosia apple is comparable to a gala.  Though softer, it still kept a healthy distance from the mealy McIntosh.  My particular specimen became increasingly soft approaching one side.  Its flesh belies its appellation; sweetness and tartness were both low.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Dessert at A Rake's Progress

by Chefs Amanda Cook and Beth Bosmeny

drinks by Corey Polyoka

11/12/18

A Rake's Progress, presumably named for the 18th century series of paintings by William Hogarth, nestles itself into the second floor of The Line, a hotel and gathering space built into a former church in Adams Morgan.  Organ pipes from the church's pipe organ compose the atrium's focal point like a live-action Windows 95 screensaver.  There are at least two other restaurants in the space, which gets confusing.  This is a deliberately swanky establishment.  Suffice it to say that The Muffin Man has some "gonnegtions" who arranged this evening.

i ordered off the mocktail menu a cider and a verjusade.  When i initially sipped the cider it tasted like it was pressed from Fuji (or Kiku) apples; it was super-sweet.  There is nothing like in-season apple cider, so it is hard to miss on this one.  My palette would have appreciated something to cut that sweetness, but i can also admire leaving the cider alone and letting it speak for itself.  The verjusade told a much different story.  The next time i see verjusade on a menu, i will order it.  What is verjusade?  Picture a sparkling lemonade with a shot of red wine, minus the alcohol.  The right amount of sparkle gave it a quaint bite, while the citrus granted tartness.  The sweetness level made it a true treat, and the verjus lent its bitter intrigue.  This is a well-executed mocktail.

I ordered the tahini ice cream.  My gonnegtion ordered the pear cassis sorbet.  Nice.  These came with Lorna Doone-style shortbread cookies whose brittle butteryness complemented the frozen treats well.  We ordered these before i knew what was about to happen.

Chef Cook treated my gonnegtion to a sample board from the pastry kitchen.  Here is what we received:

• a s'mores bar
• a pear and cranberry galette
• a cranberry charlotte
• two (2) oat bars with blackberry jam and a sesame brittle

The oat bar was my favorite.  Longtime acquaintances of Muffin Man Magookas will know that i particularly prefer dense to floofy desserts, and these delivered.  Like a naughty granola bar, the oat bar coyly resists initial attempts at mastication, but gooey jam belies its intention to be delightful. Crème fraîche brings this item into the third dimension with its sour tang.  Sesame brittle elevates it with an intensely nutty counterpoint.

The cranberry charlotte represented the most technically challenging item and largest flex on the board.  Its tartness challenges one's childish expectations of dessert and the subtlety of its eggnog mousse made me go back for more merely to decipher its content.  Three different front-of-house staff described it three different ways.  Like a gustatory rhetorical trap, it belittles one's intellect.

The galette was a rather dry puff-pastry piece but boy when i put it in my ice cream...  A gander at the menu reveals that the team typically serves this with ice cream, so that is good.

A graham crust, a chocolate sponge cake, a toasted honey meringue, shaved chocolate, and honey-graham crisps combine to form Rake's s'mores bar.  The cake leaves no cocoa at the door, hitting the bottom of one's nose with the bittersweet richness of black cocoa and, like, zero leavening (density makes a reprise).  The s'mores bar's honey crisps lean in similarly hard, delivering honey-comb punch.  Strange then, that the team perched this atop the honey meringue across from a rather uninspired shaving of chocolate.

Overall, Cook and team display an advanced grasp of garnish and gustatory counterpoint.  I would love to experience the rest of the "real" menu if it applies these more consistently.  They stand in the middle ground between the avant-garde and familiar, twisting each dish with a little personal flair.

—Muffin Man Magookas

Kiku Apples

3/12/18

These apples will recall memories of the familiar Fuji, the Kiku's relative known for its sweetness.  Its flesh will supply a satisfying, cartoonish snap.  Each bite leaves a rich geologic fruitscape ripe for investigation.  Stripes on the Kiku's rather thin skin help it blend in with surrounding Galas, but be not fooled.

—Muffin Man Magookas