Get a Good Servicing

WARNING! WARNING! This post is not funny.  Today I will be talking about a fantastic restaurant in the DC area.  Therefore, I will not be making any vile references to poop, boogers, pee-pee, up-chuck, egregious body hair, road kill, necrophiliac and/or smurf porn, blood, spluge, pus, mucus, or Kevin Federline. 

 

If you are visiting my blog for the first time and are  interested in that sick and disgusting kind of stuff.  Welcome!  Today, we’re taking a brief break from our normal discussion matter, but feel free to proceed here here here and here for some deliciously disgusting times.  If you are seriously sick and demented, please proceed here.

Now that I’ve cleared that all up, on to the good stuff.

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I am a serious believer in service.  Good service.  If I am your customer, then I demand that you service me well.  If you do not service me well, I will be quite upset.  Why?  Because if I’m shelling out some serious cash, I expect to be well serviced. 

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been disappointed by sub-standard service.  It just leaves me feeling completely unsatisfied.

I thought there were schools that taught people this kind of thing, but apparently not.  Perhaps it’s just bad management.  You would think that these people would be well trained by their managers.  It really hurts the brand when customers leave unsatisfied, so you would think that management would do anything in their power to help please you.  I mean, at least lend a hand to their less experienced staff because everyone loves a threesome.  But no, most times they are just ambivalent.  Once you’ve given them your money, it’s almost like they feel like you owe them now. 

I hate feeling like I’ve been left high and dry.  So provide bad service?  I promise I won’t be back.

This will never be the case at Café Renaissance.

Never heard of it?  I’m not surprised.

I was introduced to Café Renaissance about 10 years ago by one of my old bosses.  If he hadn’t pointed it out to me, I wouldn’t have ever known it was there, as it’s possibly the most unpretentious romantic restaurant in the history of all restaurants everywhere.

Why?  Because from the outside a Bob’s Big Boy looks classier.

The problem is that it’s located in Vienna Virginia, not Vienna Austria.  While Vienna has been listed as high as #4 in Money Magazine’s Best Places to Live, it still has the whole “Virginia” thing working against it.  I believe there are specific laws in Vienna that say that buildings must blend in with their surroundings, and being that Café Renaissance is in a non-descript strip mall in between a paint store and an Outback Steak House – it looks a bit like an asian massage parlor might lack a tad bit of charm. 

So why, on a very special night, would I subject GF to a drive outside the beltway to grab some grub at a strip mall?

Because it’s one of my absolute most favoritest restaurants ever in the history of everhoodity.

The moment you walk in to the place, you are transported across the pond.

At Café Renaissance, they play it old school Europe. 

The room is magnificent – in an old European Flair kind of way.

The food, while not spectacular, is still very good.

But it’s the service that makes this place so outstanding.

At Café Renaissance they will do whatever it takes to keep you happy including swallowing, cupping your balls, and sticking fingers in the no-no place.   

It starts right when you walk in and are welcomed with open arms.  When I walked in with GF, they knew exactly who were were, and I was even greeted by name, “Mr BlogOr, welcome! We have your table waiting for you.  Can I take your coats?”

It’s always a nice touch to have the wait staff call you by name throughout the evening at a restaurant.  I dunno what it is, but it makes it feel that much classier.

When we sit down, GF and I order a couple of glasses of wine and chat…..and chat……. and chat.  No menu’s are presented.  No one interrupts us.

The moment we started getting bored of each other our conversation started to die down a little bit, menu’s were immediately presented without us even realizing that they were keeping a close eye on our table. 

In fact, not a moment went by the entire night where we needed to find a waiter to ask a question.  They were just always there at the right time.  I didn’t need to use the bathroom while I was there, but I’m sure they would have offered to shake it for me if they thought I needed help.

The menu is sort of a combination of fine italian and french food.  Each night they also offer a whole huge list of specials in addition to the menu.

But that’s not the end of it.  If you don’t see something you’re in the mood for, they’ll make you pretty much anything you want. 

We talked it through with our waiter, and GF and I both ended up ordering things that were not listed on the menu.  They put together an appetizer for us that included gnocchi with a cream sauce, along with an oyster on the half shell with some sort of tomato-y cream sauce on top of it.  The gnocchi were perfect, and the sauce had just the right amount of richness.  The oyster was a perfect compliment, and while I have no idea what the sauce was with it, I can definitely say it was great.  I might have licked the plate clean.

For our main course we had the Chateaubriand for 2.  Not only was the steak not on the menu, it wasn’t on the list of specials either!  The waiter just listened to what we were thinking, and made the recommendation.  I prefer my meat cooked medium-rare.  When the meal was delivered, I thought it was perfect, but GF claims that her meat was still mooing.  So I just ate whatever she didn’t want to finish.

Did I mention that the presentation of all the food was fabulous?  In fact, everything about their service was about fantastic presentation.

Guys.  Listen up.  You will LOVE this place.  Why?

Because when I say they are all about “presentation” that translates to “they love setting shit on fire.”

Intentionally.

Awesome!!!!

I swear half their desserts involve some sort of pyrotechnic exhibition.  For a brief moment I thought I was at a Brittney Spears concert when they were serving the “Banana Foster for 2″ to the next table over.

Since it was a “special night,” they offered us a Brittney Spears Special on the house, since we had asked about it earlier in the night. 

I love the fact that they offered it to us first, instead of just bringing it out.  This is magnificent service.

Why?  Because good service isn’t about surprise.  It’s all about the customer.  Before they brought it out, they wanted to first make sure that this dessert would be to our liking.  Neither of us really like banana, so we really appreciated them asking us first.  At a normal restaurant,  they would have just assumed we would have enjoyed it and not given it an extra thought.

It’s going the extra mile that always counts the most, and they were very generous and instead pulled together a nice little sampler of their other tasty desserts.  

(neither GF or I drink coffee, but if you do, I would highly recommend ending your evening with the “Flaming Café Renaissance”)

AND THEN? (There’s more?)  They brought us each a nice glass of port, again on the house, to end off our meal properly.

Considering the high level of service we received, and our custom orders, how much do you think we paid?  $150? $200?  More?

Nope.

That’s the best part about all of this.  Our tab only came to $100 (before tip). 

It’s the best deal in the DC area.

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Looking for a fun evening with a date?   Start with dinner at Café Renaissance and finish off the night with some great live music at Jammin’ Java, just a few short blocks away.

Do this, and I guarantee the staff at Café Renaissance won’t be the only ones providing a good servicing.

The Thanksgiving Paradox

Thanksgiving is the yummiest holiday ever.  I think it was designed to get us fat.  It’s not that there’s too much food at the holiday festival, it’s that there is too much YUMMY food at this festival of giving. (Giving what? Giving calories? Sheesh!)  And it always gets me in the end.  Why?  Because this is the holiday that we celebrate saying “Thanks,” it would just be grinch-like for me to say “No Thanks.”  So I always end up piling way too much food on my plate.  But that isn’t the problem…..

You see, as I mentioned in my post yesterday, my buddy’s mom who hosts our Thanksgiving dinner is a fabulous chef.  She creates a whole assortment of Thanksgiving delicacies that would delight just about any person.  This, however, creates a paradox.  The paradox is, where do you spend your Thanksgiving Dinner Fund?

You see, we all have a physical limit to how much food we can put into our stomachs at one time.  Some of us have more room than others, but still, you can only put so much in at one time.  This causes a problem during Thanksgiving…. because there are so many different options.

Here are some of the pre-dinner options:

 

An actual picture of my pre-dinner choices

 

There’s a lot going on here, all of which is homemade, and quite tasty.  And when I say tasty, I really mean, really f’n super tasty.  As in, I-really-want-to-not-stop-eating-this-tasty-stuff-but-I-know-I-should-stop-now-or-I-won’t-have-any-room-deep breath-for-the-turkey-when-it-comes-out-oh-shit-I-think-I’m-full-already-fuck.

And that’s the paradox.

Because once the Turkey comes out:

The actual Turkey, pre-guest carnage

I want to eat this, along with the stuffing and sweet potato pie, etc. 

That’s where the Thanksgiving Fund comes into play.  It’s like creating a budget for a shopping trip.  I know I can only physically shove so much food down the gullet, before I’m done.  The problem is, that it’s an undefined amount.  Some days I feel like I can eat forever, while other days I’m not as hungry.  So I budget myself.  But the question is, what makes up my budget?

Is the turkey really the best part of the meal?  I’m not so sure.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I love turkey as much as the next guy.  I’m a dark meat man myself.  But I also love the stuffing.  Ohhhhh the stuffing.  I also love the baked brie, and the shrimp, and the different homemade dips, and this and that and a whole bunch of the other. 

Oh hell, I don’t know what I’m even saying here.  I think I’m calorically intoxicated from all the food I’ve been eating over the last 24 hours.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, bitching about getting fat from yummy food. 

So, anyway, I’ve learned that I have to pace myself, which is really a bitch.  It’s a bitch because I love the pre-dinner food just as much as the actual dinner food.  And since the meal isn’t cooked in my own house, I don’t get the benefit of leftovers.  This causes me stress.  Why?  Because I’ll be sitting at the hors d’oeuvres table and be thinking to myself:

Hmmmm, can I eat another shrimp? Yeah, I can have another, I haven’t had TOO many yet.  Hmmm how many of those shrimp butts are mine… 4? 5? hmmm maybe 6.  No wait, that one has lipstick.  Ok so I’ve had 5 already, would 1 more really matter?  No, ok I can do it… but I also want more of that brie, which means I need at least 1 more cracker.  That’s a pretty big commitment there… hmmm shit what do I do? Shrimp or brie? SHRIMP OR BRIE? AAAAARGH!

I sound like a woman.

And that’s the Thanksgiving Paradox.  Next year, I think I’m going to actually show up with a plan.  5 shrimp, 3 servings of brie and whole wheat crackers, 2 servings of the cheese/bacon type dip thing with 2 wheat thins, 2 servings of the prosciutto wrapped mozzarella, 3 stuffed mushrooms, and then…… ahhhh screw it.

I’m just going to stuff myself silly like I do every year.  It’s worth the stress.

Mmmmm Beeeeeeeeeer

I think I love London.

Well, I’m not sure if I really love London, but I love the English culture.

Ok, I’m not sure if I really love the English culture, but I sure do love English Pubs.

(we’ll just ignore the fact that when I 1st wrote that last sentence, I accidentally wrote “English Pubes”)

English Pubs rock.  If only we had them in the US.

Sure, we have a number of Irish pubs and English pubs scattered around the city…. but that’s not the point of these places.  The point is that EVERY corner has a pub.  It’s like your home away from home.

GF and I went back to the pub we ate at the other day, and had a fabulous time sitting around drinking and being merry.  She drank some very girly draught cider, while I had some very manly… uhh…. draught cider.

Ok ok ok, work with me here…. ok?  For the sake of this blog entry, just do me a favor and let’s pretend it’s manlier than it really is.

Anyway, the point is, that earlier in the day we had hung out at her sister’s local pub…. and it just wasn’t the same.  It didn’t feel right.  The food and the beer just didn’t taste quite as good.

I missed MY pub….. *smacked by GF* errrr OUR pub.

(I really need to reconsider letting her read these entries while I write them…. it’s author abuse!  Argh! She’s beating me while I write this.  Help! Help! Someone send for help! Aaaaigh!)

Ok sorry for that brief insanity intermission.

I’ve been here for 4 days, and already I have an attachment to a pub.  I’ve lived in DC for 10 years, and don’t have the same attachment to any bar there.  What the heck?

Well, I think it all comes down to the homeyness of the pub.  It’s a small but gorgeous bar.  Brick and wood all around with comfortable seating areas, a raging fire, and great food and beer at good prices.  I would show you a picture, but unfortunately, I won’t be able to download pictures off my camera until Wednesday…. so until then, you’ll just have to imagine it.

So, cheers to you Prince Edward Pub – I’ll be missing you when I depart…. but until then?  I’ll be seeing you again tomorrow!

My favorite pub in London

ps. If you go with my original misstype and read this entire entry replacing pub with pube, it’s pretty darn funny, and a little bit disturbing.

Slip Me the Sausage

No, this is not a post where I decide to come out of the closet. Sorry guys, I love boobs just a bit too much. Instead, it’s a restaurant review of my favorite little german food stand in Leesburg – Hamburg Döner (HD)!

This is not your usual restaurant either – it is housed in the Mighty Midget Kitchen!

The Midget used to be a pretty good BBQ place up until recently, when HD took over the little 6 by 9 foot piece of aluminum that used to be a part of a WWII era bomber. I think it has or had some sort of record about being the smallest restaurant in the world, but I’m too lazy to look that stat up. Either way, it’s pretty fricken small.

Anyway, back to the review. So, what’s better that getting some good german sausage at 11:45am on the first day back on standard time? Getting BEER with the sausage, of course! (c’mon, that was an easy question. I shouldn’t have to answer these for you….) That’s one of the great things about HD – they have a good number of german beers on tap, along with a whole shit-load in bottles.

Being that the HD uses the Mighty Midget Kitchen, which is slightly smaller than my shitter, they only have about 6 things on the menu: falafel, bratwurst, schnitzel, döner, fries, and salad. Right off the bat, there are at least 2 things I’m never buying there – falafel and the salad. I might be a tad bit metro, but I ain’t no foo-foo vegetarian wussy boy.

No, I need my meat. (damnit, this whole post is a bunch of ambiguously gay references, isn’t it?)

I’ve had the bratwurst before, which is great. One quick note – if you order the Bratwurst there, and you are expecting it to be served like a hot dog, then you better order it “with bread.” If not, you’ll get served just a brat on a plate.

This time I ordered the “döner,” some “pommes” (fries), and an Erdinger. Generally speaking, I only really like dark beers, and today they had just wheat beers on tap. While the Erdinger came in the bottle, HD follows European tradition by serving their beers in the associated beer glass.

Know what I like about European beer glasses? They are really fucking big. So, when I ordered a beer, I wasn’t ordering no stickin’ 12 oz beer.

I’m guessing you have a question here….. what the hell is a “döner.” Good question, cause I had no fuckin’ idea either. In the menu it was described via a picture as having “hot, lean meat.” And since apparently I’m really “into meat” today, it seemed appropriate.

The best way I can describe it is that it’s a german version of a gyro. It was overflowing with meat and sauce and other “fresh and nutritious” stuff.

Ooh, it has fresh AND nutritious salad

This can be also described as a potential big-fucking-mess. My buddy described it as “definitely not a sandwich to order on a date.” They even have a special plate that it comes with, which holds the sandwich upright, and provides a huge area to… errrr… well…. make a mess.

The meat was well seasoned and tender. The sauce was… well, saucy. The associated nutritious stuff… was, well, pretty fresh and apparently nutritious. I did not disappoint on the mess factor – as I proceeded to dribble the sauce all over my shirt, pants, table, floor, and another patron.

Aside from the mess, overall it was really quite good, though I would recommend the bratwurst over the döner for a first time patron. The “pommes” were freshly cut and had some sort of spicy stuff on them. (Yes, I said spicy stuff… ok? I’m not a fucking chef. If you want semi-intelligent restaurant reviews, go read Culinary Couture. There you can find well written reviews from someone who knows the difference between hominy and homosexual.) Having everything washed down with a great german beer only improved the entire experience.

I will provide a quick warning. HD only has about 4 seats indoors – most of the seats are outside at benches on the deck. They do a decent job of providing some heaters (and a couple of blankets), but if you get cold easily – definitely come prepared with jackets – especially this time of year.

Besides the beer, the 2nd best part about the whole experience is that HD is located just a short walk to Mom’s Apple Pies. They have really great pies, and something called “Buckeyes” – which are basically homemade Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups – except bigger, rounder, and way fucking better. If you aren’t too stuffed from lunch, I would definitely recommend taking the 3 minute walk over.

I give HD only 1 slight demerit…… mainly for not having hottie german server chicks.

ToBlogOr's Fantasy Server Chick

How Crappy Gum Changed My Life

Eating bad food is like getting dead armed. You remember that from junior highschool?  Dead arming is where someone punches you really hard in the arm and it goes all numb for a while.

Through most of my younger school days, I was a scrawny little jew boy with bi-focal coke bottle glasses.

Not me, but pretty darn close

I was bully bait.

This of course means that I was dead armed quite a bit.  Sometimes by bullies, but sometimes by my friends also. Why? I dunno.  Maybe because everyone I went to school with were sadistic bastards it’s fun to pick on a little guy?

This of course means that I’m really really looking forward to attending my 15 yr highschool reunion that’s coming up in November especially since all those bullies are now fat, balding, and unemployed.

But what of the times that my friends did it to me?  Well, usually they were just fooling around and didn’t mean any real harm, but it still usually meant that:

1. My glasses ended up breaking for the 9000th time
2. I got a bloody nose
3. I lost all sensation in an arm
4. All of the above

They didn’t mean it, but it still sucked. 

Anyway, I digress.  The point I’m trying to make here is that when you have bad food, it sticks with you for a while.  You remember it….. just like I remember all those times that I was dead armed.

I had this experience last week.  One of my coworkers is Turkish, and she likes to bring in Turkish food for us to experience now and again.  One of these things was Turkish gum.  So last week, upon the urging of all my other coworkers, I tried a piece.  The experience I had was similar to the ones where my friends gave me dead arms….

 

I believe that’s the face I made after I ate it.  It tasted like very well pre-chewed gum.  While it was supposed to be minty flavored, I can definitely say It had absolutely no flavor at all.  The consistency was sort of how I would imagine chewing Silly Putty that’s been left outside for a couple decades might be….   Honestly, it was probably the most awful thing I’ve tasted in a long time.  She didn’t mean to give me this experience (though the co-workers who egged me on? Well, that’s another story…)  Sorry co-worker – I know you like it, but I think I might be scarred for life.

Here’s the thing though – the gum totally redeemed itself.  You see, a Turkish fortune came wrapped around that little piece of satan dung it.

My fortune (as translated by my co-worker):

You are going to get rid of the weight on your shoulders.  There is a love interest in the future, she has a bookstore, and she’s 1 or 2 years older than you.

Talk about specific!  Wow!  Turkish crap-gum fortunes totally kick the ass of chinese take-out fortune cookies! 

 So, if you happen to read my blog, own a bookstore (or even just work in one), and happen to be in the 34-35 age range…. please contact me immediately! Apparently it was meant to be.

And that’s something worth blogging about…… or not.

**EDIT** Shortly after I received my fortune – an old friend emailed me out of the blue.  In his email, he mentioned a girl he wanted to set me up with.  My response back was – “Does she own a bookstore?  If so, I’m interested!”  Unfortunately, it turns out that she’s just some sort of “lawyer” – whatever that is.

Why DC isn’t a food town….

I was talking with a friend the other day, and he asked me for a recommendation of a good DC place to eat. Not the everyday lets-go-to-a-nice-restaurant kind of place…. no, he was asking about a good traditional DC food kind of place. And you know what I realized? DC just isn’t a good food town. I mean, we have our restaurants and stuff, but it’s not like many other large cities that have their thing. And before you get your panties all up in a roll – blue crabs don’t count. That’s not a DC thing, that’s a Maryland thing… and besides… it’s an animal, not a genre of food. Just take a look at other areas (here’s just a smattering off the top of my head):

Philly – Cheesesteaks

New York – pretty much everything, but particularly Cheesecake & Bagels

Cincinnati – Chili

Chicago – Pizza/Sausages

New Orleans – Cajun style

Milwaukee – Frozen Custard

Boston – Clam Chowder (Chowdah?) & Baked Beans

Buffalo – Wings

And on and on….

But DC? Nope, DC just doesn’t quite cut it. Now don’t get me wrong, we have some very nice restaurants around here… some of the best in the world…. but not a single culinary style or food product unique to us. Perhaps its because this town is so transient – people are in and out within a couple of years. I think because of that, we’ve never really been able to create a true culture for our city that would promote our own culinary treats. It’s sad, because the culture of this town is really that – we have no culture. We have politics, and we have those of us who cater to the government and politicians. What kind of food would that inspire??

Oh, wait- I figured it out! This town IS known for something food oriented…

Pork!

And that my friends, is something worth blogging about…… or not.

Taste of Georgetown…. FAIL

So, a friend and I got together today to head over to the “Taste of Georgetown” to get some good eats and wine. Now, I had just been to a nice wine festival out in Manassas a couple of weeks ago and had a pretty good experience, so I figured – what the heck, I don’t live far from Georgetown – let’s go!

Yeah. Right. Ok, firstly, when I had heard that the price was $5 per tasting – I figured that meant, you get in and it’s $5 to try a bunch of places. Nooooooooooooooooo. You see, it was $5 per stand, which meant this: stand-in-a-really-long-line-waiting-for-a-smallish-portion-of-food-that-really-isn’t-worth-$5

What the heck is the point of that?? I figured that this would be a good way for the restaurants to showcase their foods in a welcoming setting. But, at $5 a pop, I’m not going to spend $20 or $30 to get a mini-taste of a number of different places. Especially considering that if I WENT to the actual restaurant, I could get the item for virtually the same cost. On all aspects of the event, I give it a big FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL! Ok wait, as a positive, the weather was spectacular… so Mother Nature gets some points. Good job.

So, what is MY response to all of this? Making snarky comments about some of the food offered, of course!

Clydes: What the hell? Only offering Butternut Squash Soup is stupid…. firstly, it isn’t exactly an original soup, and the only time I might even contemplate ordering it is IF I WAS IN YOUR RESTAURANT. The last thing I want to do while walking around on the street is drink some boring ass soup. WTF?

Mendocino Grille: Ok you offered soup too, but it was “Delicata Squash Soup with Spiced Pumpkin Seeds and Curry Oil” At least that sounds creative, though what the hell is “Delicata?” I would have liked to have tried it, but I didn’t exactly want to spend $5 on soup.

Mie N Yu: I love your restaurant, but let’s be honest here. The cost per taste is $5…. your “Kobe Beef Brisket Rendang” isn’t really Kobe Beef…. so stop claiming it is. If I went to a store to buy Kobe beef – for $5 they might let me sniff it.

Ok, quick editorial comment (wait, aren’t these already all editorial comments? err well whatever). So, sliders were the word of the day. I swear every place was offering sliders. Honestly, the last thing I want to eat when I go to a “Taste of” kind of event, is sliders…. unless it’s a really unique slider. Rugby Cafe… I’m looking at you. Calling your sliders “Hereford Beef Sliders” doesn’t make them unique… you are just telling us what kind of cow you ground up.

So, anyway – how did I come out of all of this? Well, after wandering around semi-aimlessly with 10,000 of our closest touristy friends, my friend and I decided to screw it all and head back up to the “Tackle Box” on M Street. And you know what? We had a really great meal for $13.