Review: Bistro Cacao

This week, I finally got around to trying Bistro Cacao, located on Massachusetts Avenue in D.C.'s Capitol Hill neighborhood. On the whole, I was pleased.

The menu offers many of the entree choices you'd expect in a French bistro. The menu isn't large, but my fellow diner and I enjoyed everything we tried. I ordered the onglet (hanger steak) with a shallot and wine sauce. The beef was of a high quality and properly cooked, and it was superbly complimented by the sauce. The wine list is large enough without overwhelming a diner. Bottles are priced fairly; some are expensive, but most are within reason.

The ambience of Bistro Cacao has a Victorian style without being too frilly. It's especially nice for people who are taking someone out on a date. Couples can dine seated on nice wing chairs from tables flanked by classy red curtains. One complaint I have is that the restaurant's menu is choices are not accessible via its website.

The bistro has plans to open a wine bar soon, although it's not clear to me where within its current premises, the wine bar would be situated -- so stay tuned.

What We'll Pay for a Magnificent Meal

Wednesday night, I decided to celebrate the publication of What the Great Ate, a book I co-authored with my brother Mark, by dining at Citronelle -- one of Washington, D.C.'s culinary cathedrals. The fixed price menu was $105 so, yes, this was one decadent dinner. The very next day, at the "Talk" blog on the food portal Serious Eats, BaguettenBrie raised the question of how pricey a meal should be:

I firmly believe in giving oneself the opportunity to experience great chefs' work. But I have been starting to question a bit how much certain tasting menus are costing.

On the one hand, with a truly great restaurant, somewhere you probably won't return to often, money shouldn't be considered a limiting agent. However, on the other (hand), should I feel guilty about questioning the cost of just one meal?

"No" is my answer. By all means, question the cost of any menu. The issue is value for your dollar. A more expensive meal can sometimes often more value and, at other times, less value.

As for that three-course Citronelle dinner, it was absolutely wonderful. But would I have considered it less wonderful if it has cost $120 instead of $105? Probably. By the way, the crowning glory of that meal was the cherry vacherin that I chose for dessert. God, that was good.

Here's to the Menu Negotiators

Anyone who has ever watched the movie "When Harry Met Sally" remembers the scene when actress Meg Ryan simulates having an orgasm. But it's the other restaurant scene that I'm calling attention to in this post.

Y'know, the one where the actress asks for substitutions and deletions from her menu item. It reminded me of a few friends and family members who view a menu as a starting point for negotiation, not a list of take-em-or-leave-em choices.

Many of these people have food allergies or dislikes that drive their requests for substitutions or changes. So I generally feel for these people. Besides, restaurants sometimes are guilty of throwing one too many ingredients on a sandwich or dish.

So here's a toast to those menu negotiators. You know who you are.

The Gender Gap of Cooking

In this amusing column, Washington Post columnist John Kelly exposes the gender divide in the kitchen. One spouse or partner generally cooks the day-in, day-out meals, while the other one cooks only when he or she is in the mood to dabble.

But that may not be the only difference. Does the kitchen also feed men's addiction to gadgets? Apparently.

Kelly writes:

... most men approach cooking as though it was a hobby, not an obligation. To us, cooking -- just like golf or woodworking or photography -- involves getting to buy stuff -- not stuff you can eat, but stuff you can play with. Tools.

Sometimes, I'll want to cook something but am stymied by the lack of proper equipment. I'll sigh loudly as I open drawers and cupboards, searching in vain for the exotic device I saw on TV. I think I might cook more often if only I had a ceramic ginger grater, a stainless-steel cream-whipper and my own collection of brining bags. And I'll never understand how we've lived all these years without a salad spinner. All that wet lettuce. . . . The horror!

For the family's main mealmaker, however, cooking isn't a hobby. It's a relentless grind. It's the perpetual acquisition of ingredients, the unceasing sweep of the minute hand as dinner time draws near, the constant reminder that not every person likes every thing.

This is why My Lovely Wife gives me the looks. I'm a dabbler, a poseur. I can painstakingly create the occasional meal but I can't be depended upon to regularly feed my family. And yet I want extra validation for my feeble efforts.

Last year, I bought the largest Dutch oven Le Creuset makes. This was ostensibly a gift for my wife, but really it was something I lusted after. This was the apotheosis of my tool lust: expensive, heavy, hewn from the virgin iron escarpments of France. It was so big a circus family could live inside.

The entire column is worth reading. For what it's worth, I take issue with one of Kelly's observations: everyone does not add vanilla extract to pancake batter.

A Diner-Unfriendly Menu

Komi is one of those restaurants that turns me off. I have a few friends that have had good meals at this Washington, D.C. eatery, but I find the restaurant's dinner menu annoying for a few reasons.

1. A menu should be easy to read. We all lead busy lives; give us an online menu that we can skim at a glance. That's why this menu flunks. As thrilled as I am to know that the owners of Komi can use a scanner, some words can be tough to read even when they are written in pretty good handwriting. Use Helvetica, not your hand.

2. Don't handcuff your diners. Take Komi's current dinner menu, for example. Five entrees are not much of a selection, but five wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact that 4 of the 5 entrees are designated "for two." The only entree that isn't designated for two is a veggie item. Different people have different tastes. Don't handcuff us into begging one of our fellow diners to have the same entree we want to have.

A restaurant as expensive as Komi should be more diner-friendly by offering better menu choices.