The Report Thus Far

During a recent two year phase, I went from being disinterested in burgers to having day-long, unrelenting cravings for one.  Invariably, however, half-way through devouring my long-awaited burger I would lose interest – too much filler, not enough flavor, distracting hard globules of fat.  I recently found the solution to this problem: the bison burger.  Wow.  There’s really nothing else to say about that.

Next fontier:  the mini burger.

As an appetizer, they can quell the burger craving without taking over your entire meal. And good news for you indecisive types!  The mini burger usually comes in threes and often allows for multiple ordering options!  Can’t chose between cheddar cheese or swiss?  Get one of each!  Even the “burger” part may be variable.  Do the burger and the crab cake sandwhich seem equally appealing?  Get a mini one of each!  Vinoteca on 10th and U St has gone a little overboard by offering your choice of  lamb with feta, venison with brie, bison with mozzarella, tuna with chili mayo, and portabella with miso tahini.  They may upset the mini burger purists, but I admire their enthusiasm.

My friend, Josh, and I are on an mission to find the perfect mini burger.  Here’s what we have so far:

BOURBON (2321 18th St NW)
Your choice of mini beef and/or mini crabcake burgers on buttery brioche buns along with fries. The burgers were decent, if a little dry (a common challenge of the mini burger). Josh really liked the mini crab cakes, which were both moist and favorful, but I felt the crab-to-bun ratio was rather low.  Josh likened the fries to McDonald’s – crunchy outer layer, fluffy insides, with a flavor that

MATCHBOX (713 H St NW)
Matchbox’s commitment to their mini burgers is embazoned on their employee’s shirts, which read “miniburgers” and “3.6.9″, the multiples by which they can be ordered. The presentation of these burgers can’t be beat. They come piled high with crunchy onion straw sprinkled with grated parmesan and parsley. The burgers here come with your choice of mozzarella, bleu cheese crumbles, or gouda on a toasted brioche bun. We recently ordered them with gouda, but could barely taste the cheese. The onion straw is what makes these mini burgers special. Without the straw, Josh rates the burgers on par with Bourbon’s. I think their broiled flavor is tastier.

And the search continues.

BEER

Birreria Paradiso

Say you like beer.  No – say beer brings you joy.  It sates you in a way no other beverage does.  Then you’re in luck – establishments flaunting their Belgian[-style] beer list are popping up like Starbucks all over town.  In some cases a token Chimay and Hoegaarden are mixed in with less lofty drafts, and in other establishments the length of the beer list appears to be a point of honor.  Or insecurity? 

Enter Birreria, the cozy basement bar of Pizzeria Paradiso in Georgetown (I know) that couples 18 odd beers on tap (one on cask) and countless bottles with service.  It’s a rare thing in the Nation’s capital when customer service blows you away (in a good way).  This happened to me last Thursday at Birreria Paradiso.  I have a witness.

The wait staff that night was young.  Very young.  Very young, attentive, and knowledgable without being being preachy or coolly aloof.  When I asked my server to pick the fourth beer in the flight I selected, he did so gamely and introduced us graciously.  When I asked our other server to tell me what she likes in a beer, she took the time to chat.  And when I asked the bartender for a recommendation for a crisp, tart, and palate-cleansing beer to finish off my meal, he gave me exactly that.  I mean he nailed it.  I woke up the next morning dreaming of that beer.  Do I remember what is was?  Of course not.  Guess that means I’ll have to work my may way through Birerria’s beer list to find it….

2008: Year of the Duck Confit

It’s true!  You can’t escape it!  It’s only a matter of time before Pizza Hut gets in on the action.  Like Pizza Hut, I am ignorant  of French cooking, and am not on a first-name basis with any ducks, but if you are curious about/craving a good duck confit, I can help you.  I want to help you. 

What is duck confit (kawn-fee), exactly, some of us may ask?  It’s the magic that happens when a very patient cook salts a leg of duck for about 24 hours, then poaches it in its own fat for about 10 more hours (no, really – it’s surprisingly ungreasy).   This was originally a method of meat preservation popular among resourceful French farmers, but in the hands of modern cooks, many of us have eagerly parted with a significant portion of our non-profit sector paychecks for these diminuitive legs. 

The thought of a leg of duck confit, fried crispy on the outside, falling-off-the-bone-tender on the inside, and served with a sticky/sweet/tangy sauce makes me drool with happy anticipation.  It can also be prepared tossed on a salad, incorporated into risotto, and hidden in cassoulet.  But fried crispy is the best.

As a selfless service to my fellow DC dwellers, I have ranked some duck confits around town for your consideration:

#1/2     Cork: crispy, tender, tiny, and tasty.  The potato and leak gratin goes perfectly with the duck. Disclaimer: I may have been slightly tipsy at the time of consumption as a direct result of Cork’s delicious wine list and intoxicatingly energetic atmosphere.  It’s loud, it’s vibrant, and there’s usually a long wait. ($14)

#1/2     Bardeo: bits of pleasantly chewy crispiness, with that sticky/sweet tanginess I mentioned before.  I had to put my fork down and take a moment to savor its deliciousness before taking another swig of wine and carefully selecting another morsel.  This wine bar is small and a little lacking in atmosphere, but when the weather is warm, they throw open the large windows on the outer wall and the whole place is transformed.  The bartenders are eager to talk about their wines (no happy hour specials here) and are very friendly.  ($11)

#3         Brasserie Beck: this confit is pulled from the bone and shaped into pattie form resting on a nest of pureed potato.  This raft of deliciouness is surrounded by a sea of surprisingly light, slightly sweet, and very flavorful sauce.  The potato puree helps bring it all together very nicely.  The crispy, chewiness of Cork and Bardeo’s offerings were missed, but it’s hard to compete with BB’s atmosphere: the bar is a tribute to good beer around which the devout are happily gathered, the high ceilings remind me of old European cafes, and the combination gives the place an air of easy-going elegance.  The beer list mades me giddy with happiness.  I’d go with a brown ale with the duck.  If you’re going for dinner, plan on dropping $50 – $100 per person. ($14) 

#4        Vinoteca: a robust salad? The duck was flavorful, but not saucy.  Though the duck seemed like a natural fit with the accompanying apples, the poached egg and bacon crumbles were a bit heavy for the richness of the meat.  If you’re looking for a place to try many glasses of wine for $5 each during happy hour and enjoy some decent food while you’re at it, this is it.  The space is pleasant.  Just pleasant. ($14)

#5       Oyamel: is not the first place you would think of if you’re hungering for some duck confit, but once there, you may be tempted to marry your confit love with latin flavors by ordering the pato al pastor con laminas de piña.  Alas, the tasty flavors of the tomatoes, cilantro, onions, and pinapple all but mask the duck.  This was a good reminder for me that the more simple the duck preparation, the better.  Use precious belly space for any of the other tantilizing dishes at Oyamel. 

Unranked    Afterwords Cafe: Just don’t.  Go for the crabcake salad with avocado instead. 

I’m still in the data collection phase of this project and would appreciate any tips you may have for me on where to investigate next. Happy Year of the Duck Confit!