FOOD: Panjshir–A Blast from the Past

By JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

March 12, 2010                      

There was a time when Panjshir, the city’s long-standing Afghan restaurant, was considered the cream of the crop in the region for its genre.  It was written up in magazines and praised for its traditional, well-prepared dishes. 

In the last five years that’s changed.

Food critics and foodie fanatics have moved on.  A host of newer places, including the nearby Bamian in Falls Church, are the current darlings in a growing Afghan restaurant circuit.  There is a perception out there that Panjshir is stuck in the past—that it caters to an older clientele of regulars with predictable, mildly seasoned food. 

This week I embarked on a mission to the 25 year-old institution to see what the story was.  Even though I’d been to the restaurant once before, it was so long ago that it felt like my first time there.

I walked into a fancy dining room half-filled with white-haired grannies; a scene that did not, in all honesty, fill me with confidence.  I know there are ethnic restaurants that are patronized primarily by Westerners and still have good food, but those are few and far between.   Generally I prefer to eat at a place where there are some people dining there from the same ethnic background as the cuisine being served.  It reassures me that I’m getting something reasonably close to the real McCoy.  Nevertheless, I kept an open mind.  Good food can come from anywhere.

I sat down with a couple of friends with plans to order a range of dishes, a few of which I would be tasting for the first time.  Truth be told, I’ve only eaten Afghan food a handful of times.  There are still a ton of dishes I want to explore from the landlocked Central Asian nation. 

From what I’ve had so far I’d say Afghan food is most similar to Persian food, which I eat often and love.   Both cuisines work wonders with slowly stewed fruits and vegetables, rice, and charcoal-charred meat kabobs.  They’re neighbors, so that makes sense.  But Afghan cooks also employ a more liberal use of Indian spices—especially cardamom, black pepper and coriander—and incorporate some Turkish-influenced dumpling-like dishes, most notably the meat-filled pillows called mantu  (Panjshir calls them muntoo).  Like most surrounding countries, bread and yogurt also play integral roles at the table.  

I’ve always wanted to try aushak, the scallion-filled cousin of the aforementioned mantu, so we started off with a small order of those.  The little dumplings were drowned in yogurt and a mild tomato-meat sauce and served tepid.  Not good.  A bigger problem was the pasta itself, which was some of the chewiest and toughest I’ve ever had.  The only highlight was the generous sprinkling of dried mint over top of it all, which contributed a unique and welcome savory flavor.  I’m pretty convinced this was a poor rendition of what could be a wonderful dish.

The bulanee kachalu, a beef-and-potato stuffed fried pastry, was a little better.  I especially liked its accompanying cilantro and chili chutney, which had a potent kick of vinegar.  But the filling was skimpy and the flavor pretty bland without the sauce.  Order it and you’re likely to be satisfied but not impressed.

After the appetizers we were all given a complimentary salad of iceberg lettuce with a tart, mustardy dressing—a gesture I remember from the last time I ate there.  Honestly, I’d prefer a big basket of bread with some of that chutney to start the meal, but the salad was pretty tasty and free, so I can’t complain.

For the main meal we split a veggie combo and a meat combo.  Thankfully, there was a lot of good eatin’ on these two plates. 

Both the boneless chicken cubes and lamb chops on the mixed skewers were excellent.  The former were succulent and charred; the latter smoky, well-seasoned, and a joy to gnaw on.  Only the cubes of beef left a little to be desired, as they were overcooked.  I’d go so far as to say that the lamb and chicken rank number one and two on the hierarchy of kabobs in the City of Falls Church.  They were that good.

Unfortunately, the “saffron rice” that shared the plate with the kabobs couldn’t stand up to them.  It was dry, bland, and a poor excuse for a starchy side.  This was particularly disappointing because I know Afghan cooks, much like their Persian neighbors, pride themselves in making some of the most fragrant, delicious long-grain rice dishes around.  It is the countries’ staple grain.  If I went again I’d order the lamb chops or chicken and try to talk the waiter into subbing out my rice for something else—perhaps some bread or a vegetable side dish. 

The so-called “spinach rice” that came with the veggie combo was even worse than the “saffron rice,” but everything else on the plate was tasty and refreshingly different.  We opted for slow-cooked pumpkin, stewed apples with split peas, and sautéed eggplant, all three of which were smothered in typical Afghan fashion with tangy yogurt and a sweet tomato sauce.  Both the pumpkin and the apples had an almost dessert-like sweetness that could turn off people without a sweet tooth, but I liked them, especially with the slightly tart yogurt.  The eggplant was tender as can be and savory.

When all the food was cleared we agreed that some of it was downright delicious and definitely worthy of a return trip.  Aside from the so-so appetizers and inexcusably bad rice the only other downside was the price.  We spent 20 bucks a person but could have ordered twice as much food.  In fact, we were so hungry after we left that we went down the street and had a second, smaller dinner at La Caraquena.  I understand that Panjshir is locally owned and probably barely turns a profit with all the competition in the area.  But I’d love it if the prices were a tad cheaper and the portions a tad bigger.  That sort of generosity is what keeps me coming back.  For now, I think I’ll only be coming back for lunch (when many dishes are a few bucks cheaper) or when someone else is paying the bill. 

So is Panjshir the stale, stuck-in-the-90s restaurant that food folks “in the know” make it out to be?  Perhaps.  There are clearly some dishes that aren’t what they could or should be.  And there’s that free bowl of iceberg lettuce that is “so ten years ago.”  But after my recent trip it’s clear to me that there are a few things this restaurant does very well—and probably a number of other good standbys I didn’t get a chance to try. 

All in all, Panjshir isn’t as affordable or well-rounded as I wish it was, but I like it.  Once you take a bite of those lamb chops it’s pretty hard not to. 

Panjshir is located on 924 W Broad St, Falls Church City, VA, 22046. (703)-536-4566.  (Its sister restaurant, Panjshir II, is on 224 Maple Ave E., Vienna, VA, 22180.  (703) 281-4183.)

FOOD: Pie-Tanza, Flippin’, and the Pizza Situation

By JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

March 5, 2010

What do you look for in a great slice of pizza?

It’s a simple question that often gets a complicated answer.  Pizza is a unique culinary invention, one that for whatever reason has created fierce loyalists that praise particular styles and cooking methods.

Should the crust be crackling crisp, chewy like bread, or a mixture of the two?  Should the cheese be sprinkled liberally, seeping over the sides and oozing everywhere, or should it be applied with restraint, like in the classic Neapolitan Margherita?  Should the sauce be oregano-heavy or nothing but sweet, tangy tomatoes?  Are toppings pleasant additions or unnecessary add-ons?  Is a little grease desirable or disgusting?

The food blog seriouseats.com identifies at least 21 regional styles of pizza, ranging from the well-known New York and Chicago variations to more obscure styles like Old Forge, a Pennsylvania-based, cheddar-heavy pie. Clearly, everybody has their own idea of what constitutes the perfect pizza.

What do I look for in a pie?  Well, I like mine minimally-topped with a bright tomato sauce, a little cheese, and a crispy-chewy, heavily charred crust.  I suppose that puts me in the Neapolitan camp.  But I like floppy New York pies and coal-fired New Haven ones too—and other styles as well.  Pizza can only be judged on a case by case basis in my opinion.

When I set out to write a story about pizza in the City of Falls Church I wanted to do an all-out pizza war, but the logistics were a little daunting, so I settled on a showdown between the city’s two newest pizza peddlers: Pie-Tanza and Flippin’.  I dragged my mom and brother along with me as we sampled both places, back-to-back, on the same night.

We began at Pie-Tanza, which replaced the Pizza Hut in Falls Plaza almost two years ago.  The sit down restaurant bills itself as a wood-fired pizza joint, but it has a full menu of pastas, salads, and other Italian-American favorites as well.  It’s also a quasi-chain, with locations in nearby Arlington and in Columbia, South Carolina.

At 6 p.m. Pie-Tanza could’ve easily been mistaken for a day care center if not for the giant wood-burning pizza oven.  Little kids were everywhere—and they weren’t just sitting down.  They were running around like they owned the place, playing with pizza dough and screaming at their parents about the pictures they just drew.  That might bother some people, but it didn’t bother us.  We were a focused group that night.

The plan was to get a plain cheese pizza at both places to do a basic assessment of the crust, cheese, and sauce.  But when we saw how small the pies were at Pie-Tanza (they are painfully tiny and somehow 12 bucks a pop) we decided on a classic cheese pie, which at Pie-Tanza includes both mozzarella and fontina cheeses, in addition to a sauce-less white pizza.

My brother, who went to college near New Haven, Connecticut, and lived off the legendary pies at Pepe’s, declared the pizza horrible, shaking his head with every bite.  My mom and I were a little more positive. Being the food-obsessed family that we are, we discussed the pizza at length.

The crust was the biggest problem.  Pie-Tanza rolls its dough paper thin, and it simply can’t hold up to the cheese.  The edges of the pies were nice and crisp, but most of the middle was soggy.  There was a thicker layer of cheese than crust.  It just didn’t work.

I did, however, love the sauce.  It was bright, fresh, and simple, with a great tomato flavor.  The edge of the plain pizza, with just a little cheese, a good amount of sauce, and a nice crispness, was a great bite.  If I returned I’d be inclined to get the Margherita pie, which usually has a just a few slices of fresh mozzarella, not a blanketing of cheese. I certainly wouldn’t get the white pizza again, which everyone agreed was a little heavy on the herbs and cheese and suffered from the same super-thin crust.

My brother and mom said they wouldn’t come back.  My personal verdict: Pie-Tanza makes a pie from good ingredients but it falls short in terms of structure and balance.  Go at your own risk.

Moving on to Flippin’, we all commented on the polar opposite vibe of the place.  Instead of a glorious wood-burning oven as the centerpiece, the small, mostly empty restaurant had a window of stale slices waiting to be re-heated in a lifeless gas oven.  There were also no kids.

A blossoming California chain with a New York theme, Flippin’ has gained many fans because of its by-the-slice offerings.  Abandoning my cheese-pizza-only premise once again, we ordered four different slices, taking advantage of the signature “two slices and a drink for $5” deal.

After a trip to the oven the pre-cooked pizza slices only partially came back to life.  They were crisp and hot, but still a little old tasting.  Next time I’d order a fresh, whole pie.  Nevertheless, the chewy, sturdy crust blew Pie-Tanza’s out of the water in terms of texture.  Flavor-wise it fell flat though.  Both the crust and the slices in general were woefully under-seasoned, causing me to make a mad dash for the parmesan cheese shaker and hot pepper flakes.  Much of the blandness stemmed from the fact that there was literally no sauce on the pizza to speak of—nothing to counteract the oiliness of the cheese or bring any freshness into the equation.

Because of that inherent tastelessness the cheese pie was the worst one.  At least the pepperoni, many-meat-topped Brooklyn and Tomato Basil slices had some flavors going on.  If I was itching for two big honking slices of pizza and I was in the immediate area I’d return for some of the topping-heavy options.  My brother vowed never to return and my mom said she would take it over Pie-Tanza, but only because it was a better bargain.

The bottom line: After one visit to each, I can’t recommend either of the newest kids on the block without some serious reservations.

And the rest of the current pizza landscape doesn’t fill me with confidence.  Aside from four chains—Papa John’s, Domino’s, Zpizza, and Jerry’s—there’s only Anthony’s and Argia’s in the City of Falls Church.  Perhaps a showdown between the two locally owned spots is in order.  One of them could hold the key to pizza greatness in the city.

But my money is on a restaurant that hasn’t even opened yet: Pizzeria Orso.  Perhaps you’ve heard the rumblings online about this pizza project, which has been in the works for several years but is constantly getting delayed.

Pizzeria Orso is a joint venture between the owners of 2941, the ritzy Falls Church restaurant with a fantastic bread-baking reputation, and Edan MacQuaid, the former pizzaiolo (that’s pizza-maker in layman’s terms) at 2 Amys and RedRocks in Washington D.C—two of the leaders in the artisan pizza revolution that has swept the district in the past decade.  By the grace of the pizza Gods, the restaurant is slated to open on the ground floor of Pearson Square’s Tax Analysts building on Maple Avenue.

I walked by the construction site the other day and several burly men were there telling me I couldn’t take any pictures.  One man said he had “no idea” when the restaurant would open, but I saw a huge Naples-imported pizza oven, so that’s a start.  There are rumors that the doors will open as early as May of this year, but given how long it’s taken to get to this point, I’d expect to wait a little longer.

I was able to get a hold of Amber Pfau, a publicist for 2941, and she indicated that a formal press release with all the details is still in the works.  Much seems to still be up in the air, but she assured me that MacQuaid will be the man flinging the pies, and given his track record that’s all that really matters.

If Orso is as good as it sounds on paper, the Little City will be the Lucky City.

Pie-Tanza is located at 1216 W. Broad St., Falls Church, VA, 22046.  703-237-0977.

Flippin’ Pizza is located at 800 W. Broad St. Suite 103, Falls Church, VA, 22046.  703-752-8672.

Pizzeria Orso will be located at 410 S. Maple Ave, Falls Church, VA, 22046.

FOOD: Dogwood Tavern — Two Takes

By JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

February 19, 2010

My brother and I are on our way to the City of Falls Church for a late lunch, and I’m throwing out as many ideas as I can.  He keeps shooting them down.

“How about Luzmila’s?” I say.  “I’ve never actually had a sit down meal there.”

“I don’t want Bolivian food,” he says.  “I want French fries.”

I ignore his plea for fries.  He always says that.

“Okay, what about the Lebanese Butcher?” I say.  “I want to try a 10 appetizer deal they have.”

“Nope,” he says.  “Lebanese food is too salty.”

Too tired to launch into argument about how ridiculous it is to call an entire cuisine “too salty,” I suggest a place I know he’ll like, even though I’m not thrilled about it.

“We can go to Dogwood Tavern; I haven’t been there and I know they’ll have French fries.” 

“Hmm, that could be good,” he says.

My brother is more adventurous than most people when it comes to eating out.  He likes Thai, Indian, Chinese, and plenty of other ethnic cuisines.  But he also fiercely defends American food any chance he can, especially when he’s around people that always want to eat something “weird and ethnic” like me.  Macaroni and cheese, steak and cheese, a burger with cheese, grilled cheese—these are some of his favorite things to eat.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  Well-executed American food can be delicious.  I just don’t think you find a whole lot of inventive, top-notch American cooking around here.

I’ve avoided Dogwood Tavern for that reason, along with the fact that I don’t really drink beer (which, let’s be honest, is what most people go there for).

Before I have a chance to offer up another suggestion he turns into Dogwood’s parking lot.

“All right, we’re going here,” he says. 

Dogwood Tavern opened in April 2008, the third venture from the same group of owners behind Ragtime and Rhodeside Grill, two Arlington sports bars that draw steady happy hour crowds.   All three places have some overlap in their menus, but each also has unique items that go along with whatever “theme” the place is supposed to be driven by.  Dogwood is meant to be a celebration of Virginia.

That’s evident right as we walk in. The place is tastefully decorated with Virginia memorabilia, and, in general terms, is about as nice a sports bar as I’ve seen.  It’s clean and spacious.  The televisions are plentiful and not obnoxiously loud.  There are even some Mardi Gras decorations peppered throughout the place. I like the vibe.

When we sit down to look at the menus I’m a little discouraged.  The supposedly Virginia-centric menu appears to be pretty basic bar fare, with the occasional dish including Virginia ham and a few items involving quasi-regional foods like oysters and catfish.  Other than that there are gimmicky names for regular foods, like the “Shenandoah Slider” or “Potomac Pesto Chicken Wrap.”  I scan the entire menu and can’t find a single item that really peaks my interest.

“Ohhh, they have waffle fries,” my brother says, giddily flipping through the menu.

“You’re unbelievable,” I say.

“Oh man, look at this,” he says, pointing to the Sandwich section.  “I want to order everything on this page.”

Yawn.    

But there is hope.  A one-day Mardi Gras menu, which includes a sampler of gumbo, red beans and rice, and jambalaya, is intriguing.  The food reviewer in me says that I should order something off the regular menu because it makes more sense to critique that.  But I convince myself that a sampler will be a good barometer for the type of cooking the restaurant is capable of, even if it includes items not regularly offered.  I order it.

My brother opts for the Hot Turkey and Cheddar sandwich (with waffle fries, of course) and we decide on the Honey Pepper wings as a starter.  I prepare myself for a mediocre meal.

The wings arrive in no time, flanked by the ubiquitous blue cheese dip and celery sticks.  Expecting some sort of sweet heat from a honey-pepper glaze, I don’t get much of anything after one bite.  They are faintly sweet, not at all peppery, and actually a little dry.

“These are good,” my brother says, morphing into his food critic mode.  “The first bite is really sweet, and it’s just a nice salty finish.”

“No, they need more heat,” I say.  “They are fine, but they are a little bland.”

“I knew you would say that,” he says.  “All you ever eat is spicy ethnic food.”

Hmmm.  That’s true.  Then I ask him a question I often ask myself when I ponder a dish.

“Would you tell someone to come here and order these?”

“Yeah, I would,” he says.

He doesn’t say it with conviction, though.  I don’t believe him.

Our main dishes come out just as we finish off the wings.  I snag a waffle fry before my brother drowns his plate in ketchup.  Like the wings, they aren’t bad, but they’re certainly not a talking point.  Surprisingly, my brother agrees.

I already regret getting the Mardi Gras special because I haven’t eaten a ton of Creole food to compare it against.  I can count on one hand the number of time I’ve had red beans and rice, jambalaya, and gumbo.

Nevertheless, I dive into the red beans and rice, which are teeming with smoky andouille sausage.  The dish is mildly seasoned, but I like it for its rib-sticking heartiness and creamy-textured beans.  The jambalaya is not quite as good but I clean the bowl out because I’m hungry.  It lacks the punch I expected.

After one spoonful of the gumbo I almost gag it’s so bad.  I take a second taste just to confirm that it really is that bad and it’s somehow worse the second time around.  The stew is slimy (I think from improperly cooked okra) and off-putting in a way that’s hard to describe.  Something just isn’t right about it. 

A slow-cooked dish that tastes this bad is a problem at a restaurant.  It’s not an overcooked burger or a dried out piece of grilled chicken, which are merely execution issues that can happen from time to time.  It’s a flat-out nasty dish that the kitchen cooked ahead of time, tasted, and deemed good enough to serve at lunch and dinner.  Not good.

When I force my brother to have a taste he shudders after swallowing it down.

“That’s gross,” he says.

My brother’s sandwich is better, he says. 

“This is solid, man.”

I’m so fed up with my gumbo that I don’t even sneak a taste of his sandwich in, which I had planned to do.  Ah well.

For some reason we decide to order a five-layer chocolate cake, which our waitress assures us is “really good.”  It is good, especially if you like fudgy, not-too-sweet, chocolate-packed desserts.  Too bad it comes surrounded with cool whip—an unfortunate sign that a restaurant is content to take shortcuts (fresh whipped cream is embarrassingly easy to make).

I leave indifferent towards the meal and the restaurant.  My brother is more optimistic.

“Its solid bar food; there’s nothing wrong with that,” he says.  “I’d come here again.”

Yes, I see where my brother is coming from.  I get the appeal of decent food in a relaxing atmosphere with a good beer selection and plenty of HD TVs.  I get 50 cent wing nights and half price raw bar specials.  I get live music three times a week.  Dogwood fills a niche that I completely understand. 

I just don’t happen to fall into it.    

Dogwood Tavern is located at 132 West Broad Street, Falls Church, VA, 22046-4201.  Phone: (703) 237-8333 

FOOD: My Column Philosophy

By JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

February 12, 2010

A few months ago I wrote about an Armenian coffee shop called Arax Café in Arlington, prompting a commenter to question why I would talk about an Arlington establishment in an online newspaper about the City of Falls Church.  I emailed him an explanation and it was later posted in the comments section of that story by the commenter.  In essence that response was a hurried version of my “column philosophy.”  Since then, I’ve still occasionally gotten comments that suggest a level of irritation when I feature a place outside of the City boundaries.

A snowed-in week is as good a time as any to give a more well-thought-out version of that philosophy, which I feel Falls Church Times readers have long been entitled to.  I think it is important for you to know where I am coming from, how I go about choosing a place to review, and why there are certain places that I tend to avoid writing about.

My food column is unique and challenging to write when you consider the circumstances.  I am attempting to write relevant, timely stories every single week about a relatively small area with a relatively small population and only so many restaurants and markets.  To think that I could keep my column fresh by focusing only on City establishments is absurd.  And, honestly, I think it would make for a pretty boring column.  Just going a few miles outside of the City boundaries every once in awhile allows me to talk about so many more places and cover so many more cuisines.

Also—and this is crucial—I want to write about places that have memorable food.  Finding great meals trumps geography ten times out of ten for me (within reason of course—I’m not about to venture into Maryland or anything).  I would much rather write a column about a place two miles outside of the City with fantastic food than a place in the City that has average food.  I am not a promoter of City of Falls Church restaurants.  I promote places that I think are worthy of a visit for a City of Falls Church resident.  Many of those places are in the City.  Some are not.

Many of those places are also ethnic restaurants.  I choose to write about ethnic places often because this area has great examples of many cuisines and because I want to broaden people’s horizons.  It seems silly to me to write reviews of beloved City restaurants like Argia’s, Clare and Don’s, and Anthony’s.   I’d much rather profile a gem like Rabieng, tucked away off Route 7 and not far from the City at all, or a place in the City like Indian Spices, which sees little business but has some great imported stuff.  I want City residents to think outside the box a little, to step outside of their comfort zone and try some new things right in their backyard and right in their neighbors’ backyard.

The Falls Church Times is an online newspaper dedicated to the City of Falls Church and its readers want to read about all things City-related.  I understand that.  But when it comes to eating out I believe a little flexibility is in order.  That’s why I write every single story through the lens of the City of Falls Church, but not necessarily about a City-based establishment.

FOOD: Let’s Talk Thai

By JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

February 5, 2010

In my more than eight months as a Falls Church Times staffer I’ve written about an endless number of cuisines.  But I haven’t covered a Thai restaurant yet, which is odd, because I ‘m addicted to Thai food.  In my mind, no cuisine on Earth can match Thai in terms of balance and contrast.  A great Thai meal hits more points on your palate than you thought were there.

Unfortunately, I haven’t encountered a place in the City of Falls Church that has me itching to go back.  My recent meals at Sweet Rice and Pilin Thai were okay at best—definitely nothing to write home about.  I would never point a City resident towards them if they were looking for spicy, flavorful, knock-your-socks-off Thai food.

Instead, I would tell them to get in their car and head a few miles down Route 7 to Rabieng, a hard-to-see spot in the Culmore section of Falls Church.  Though Rabieng has its flaws, most things I’ve had there are a notch above the competition.  Foods marked with a chili pepper or two on the menu are actually spicy.  Coconut milk-fortified curries are rich and complex, not watery and bland like so many other restaurant versions.  And, perhaps best of all, in an age when every Thai restaurant seems to have the same boring menu, Rabieng offers signature creations and regional dishes that set it apart.

The restaurant has been around since the mid-1990s, making it a veteran in the Thai circuit.  It’s actually an off-shoot of the fine dining Thai palace Duangrat’s, which opened in 1987 as the first “fancy” Thai restaurant in the region and still sits right around the corner.  But Rabieng is more casual and more affordable, with many of the same menu items for a few bucks cheaper.  If you go all out for a dinner the most you’ll spend, after tax and tip, is 25 bucks a person.  I’ve never even ventured over to its bigger sister for that reason (though I recently learned of a $9.95 lunch special at Duangrat’s, so that will soon change).

A few of the dishes I’ve enjoyed at Rabieng over the years are borderline transcendent.

One is the panang curry with slow-cooked dark meat chicken.  Now, this is a Thai restaurant staple, usually described as “insert protein here” with coconut and peanut curry sauce.  Rabieng’s rendition is spicier than most, luscious with coconut milk, and so good that you’ll be thinking of ways to bring it up in conversations with friends and complete strangers (well, at least that’s what I do).

Just as good is the roast pork in a red curry sauce with pineapples, tomatoes, and rambutans, which usually appears as a special.  The dish is a riff on a Thai classic generally made with roast duck, but Rabieng’s uber-tender slivers of pork are a great stand-in.  Even so, the meat takes a back seat to the dreamy red curry sauce, which is silky with coconut milk goodness and spicy-sweet.   It’s a textbook example of how complex a red curry can be, somehow harmonizing shrimp paste, chilies, lemongrass, shallots, cilantro roots, and a host of other ingredients.  The best bites are the ones with a little pork, a little rice, and an inordinate amount of sauce.

Beyond those two excellent curries there are plenty of other good bets.  The wok roasted cashews, flecked with scallions and fiery Thai bird chilies, get better with every bite.  Tidbit, a long-time signature appetizer, is another good way to start the meal.  The dish consists of pressed fried rice cakes and an accompanying sauce of coconut, peanut, and pork, which sounds odd but tastes like a satay sauce gone wild.  My only caution would be to avoid too many fried appetizers, as some of them—like, say, the spring rolls and fried calamari—taste mostly of the oil they were cooked in.

You’re better off getting one of the many salads, most of which are laced with a bracing chili and lime vinaigrette and have a similar hot and sour flavor profile.  Or, if the weather is right, go for a soup.  I delved into that section of the menu for the first time on my most recent visit and I’m sorry I waited so long.  The Chicken Galangal soup, Rabieng’s take on the classic tom kha gai, is easily the most balanced one I’ve come across in a restaurant.  Usually it’s too salty or too sour or too hot.  At Rabieng it’s a pleasant balancing act of all three.

Stir-fries can be a weak point, especially if you order more generic-sounding options like something in “brown sauce” or “with ginger.”  But anything with chili, garlic, and basil, the Thai Holy Trinity that first hooked me on the cuisine many years ago, is pretty tasty.  There is also a respectable (but oily) rendition of drunken noodles, one of the hottest dishes in the Thai repertory.

Seafood is a gamble.  At times it can be fresher than you’d expect from such a small, well-priced restaurant.  But just as often it’s a little old and a little off-tasting.  If you’re feeling lucky and want to chance it, go for the Southern Satoh Shrimp, a spicy, saucy stir-fry with just the slightest hint of funkiness from dried shrimp and sator beans, also known as “stink beans” because of their pungent flavor.

It’s rare that I recommend saving room for dessert at a restaurant.  Most places are out to get you with over-priced, skimpy portions of rather blah sweets.  But at Rabieng you’d be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t save room for the Mango with Sticky Rice or the Coconut-Tapioca Pudding.  Both are Thai standards done with uncommon finesse.

If you walk into Rabieng on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, you’ll be handed a “Thai Dim Sum” menu, which sports a number of Thai-inspired small plates priced at about five bucks per plate.  Though there are some great eats among the bunch, especially the incendiary chili-basil fried rice topped with a fried egg, I prefer the standard menu items.  Still, the chance to gorge on three or four plates per person is a fun dining out excursion that I’d recommend to eaters that can never decide what to get.

The bottom line: Order strategically and a trip to Rabieng can be a memorable one.  Just be sure to prepare yourself for some serious heat—most of the good stuff will leave a pleasant burning sensation on your tongue.  Also be sure to drop by Duangrat’s Market next door before or after your meal.  Though dingy and disorganized, the small grocer is a great source for Thai pantry items and the closest Thai market to the City of Falls Church.  The selection of ready-made curry pastes (including the well-regarded Mae Ploy brand), Thai cooking implements, and eclectic Thai snacks is impressive.  I find myself there quite often, usually so I have an excuse to swing by Rabieng.

Rabieng is located at 5892 Leesburg Pike, Falls Church, VA, 22041.  703-671-4222

FOOD: An Ethiopian Extravaganza at Meaza

By JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

January 29, 2010

After a few ho-hum experiences with Ethiopian food in high school I was ready to swear off the cuisine forever.  Even though Washington D.C. — especially the “Little Ethiopia” neighborhood at 9^th and U streets– reputedly has the best Ethiopian dining scene in the country, I couldn’t bring myself to shell out cash for what I perceived to be nothing more than mushy vegetables and cold, sour, spongy bread.

Then I went to Virginia Tech and everything changed.

My four years in Blacksburg, Virginia, were, for the most part, unbearable when it came to eating out.   Most places were generic sports bars or pathetic attempts at Chinese, Thai, or Mexican food.  One day, out of sheer desperation for something “ethnic” I tried a hole-in-the-wall, one-woman take-out Ethiopian joint called Excellent Table, which had been open a few months and seen little business.

Given what I thought of Ethiopian food and what the standards were for restaurants in Blacksburg my expectations were unbelievably low.  But I was shocked at the freshness of the food, the spicy complexity of the lentils and meat stews, and even the injera, the ubiquitous flatbread that I’d only had cold and sour could apparently be pleasantly tangy and earthy when made right.  I went back several times, gaining more respect and admiration for Ethiopian cooking each visit.

Now back in Northern Virginia I’ve gotten away from Ethiopian food a bit.  I’ve neglected the cuisine in favor of so many others that I can’t get enough of.  I’ve been pulled away by the Eden Center and great Thai, Chinese, and Middle Eastern restaurants in the region.  I’ve been on Indian kicks and Lebanese kicks and Persian kicks.  And that’s a loss for me, because Ethiopian food is soulful and unique.

So this week I finally got off my rump and hit up Meaza Restaurant, one of a few Ethiopian restaurants within a reasonable grasp of the City of Falls Church.  The gargantuan, tastefully decorated eatery (supposedly the biggest Ethiopian restaurant in the United States) straddles the border between Falls Church and Arlington and has garnered rave reviews by every major news outlet.  Meaza is widely recognized as the best Ethiopian restaurant outside of Washington D.C. proper.  Many food writers even consider it to be better than the innumerable Ethiopian award-winners in the District.

After one visit all I can say is that I will be back.  Though it was just a single meal, my dining companion and I ordered a variety of dishes, easily enough to feed four people.  Essentially, I crammed two trips to the restaurant into one lunch.

Let’s get the bad stuff out of the way first, because there wasn’t much of it.  In fact, the only thing we got that I wouldn’t order again were the sambusas, Ethiopia’s off-shoot of the fried Indian turnovers called samosas.  They were oily, heavy, tepid, and bland, and a horrible waste of calories to start your meal with.  Also, I suppose the service wasn’t fantastic.  I’ve read many complaints in reviews and online about slow servers, unfilled water glasses, and missed orders.  Nothing on my visit was too egregious, but there was some difficulty in placing the order because of the language barrier and the waitress was a tad pushy.  If you go in expecting so-so service you’ll probably leave happy.

Food-wise, everything we got after the sambusas was either good or excellent.  And all of it was greatly aided by the first-rate injera that Meaza makes on-site.  The starchy staple of choice in Ethiopia, injera is a thin-as-a-pancake, fermented flatbread traditionally made from teff, an ancient grain that resembles millet.  Most every Ethiopian dish is served atop of a piece of injera, which soaks up sauces and gravies beautifully.  Additional injera is used to pick up whatever is on the plate, including the well-drenched injera.  No utensils necessary.

Teff is expensive to get in the states (though it is grown in the Midwest now); so many Ethiopian cooks use part teff and part wheat flour to make their bread.  Meaza makes both an all-teff injera and a half-and-half one, but you’ve got to ask for the all-teff to get it and pay an extra dollar.  We opted to have our meal served on the half-and-half but got all-teff on the side for scooping.  The “pure” bread was noticeably darker in color, and, to my taste, a little bit less sour and more pleasant to eat.  For a measly buck, I’d splurge for the traditional stuff.

The dish I’d be most inclined to order again—and, actually, the one I would order every single time if I were with a big group—is the #7 special vegetarian combination meal.  Ethiopian’s treat vegetables and legumes in a delicious manner, gussying them up with chilies, ginger, onions, and berbere, an indispensable spice mixture with a laundry list of ingredients.

I won’t recount every dish on our platter, which included eight dollops of veggies and lentils, but there were a few that really spoke to me.  The mesir wat, an earthy, rich, brick-red mass of lentils, was excellent.  Wat means stew in Ethiopian and pretty much any dish involving the word is chockfull of spice and seasoning, thickened with cooked-to-death onions, and uncommonly delicious.  The jalapeno and ginger-studded collard greens, called gomen, were another standout.  They were tender but not mushy and the perfect foil for the injera.  They were also strikingly similar to the greens I’d had in Blacksburg, which gave them some bonus nostalgic points.

But the best part of the special veggie combo was one of the elements that separates it from the standard veggie combo; a salad of injera and tomato known as timatim fitfit.  I’d never had the dish before but went gaga over it after one bite.  It’s nothing more than leftover shards of injera with tomatoes, onions, and a light lemon dressing.  Yet it is so refreshing and bright, and such a great counter to the heavier stews and meat dishes.  Having tried it, I don’t see how anyone can justify getting the regular veggie combo.

To test out the meat options, we opted for the doro wat, a richly spiced chicken stew served with hard boiled eggs that is the nation’s national dish, and the lamb tibs with awaze sauce.  Both were spooned onto our communal platter of injera, which housed all the veggies from the sampler on the perimeter.

Doro wat was often on the menu at Excellent Table in Blacksburg, so I’m quite familiar with the dish.  Meaza’s rendition was spot-on but its flavor profile overlapped too much with the mesir wat.  But that was my fault because I ordered both.  Also, I had forgotten that the dish is usually served with one scrawny piece of chicken and is mostly about the sauce, so don’t expect a plate full of chicken if you order it.

I’d never had lamb tibs or anything prepared with awaze sauce before, so it was a thrill to try both in one dish.  Tibs are a quick-cooked Ethiopian specialty, usually consisting of stir-fried pieces of beef or lamb teeming with jalapenos, onions, and garlic.  They can be eaten as is or embellished with a marinade in awaze sauce, which typically includes red wine or Ethiopian honey wine and all kinds of spices.  Our tibs could have been a tad tenderer but were still perfectly delicious—spicy, assertive, and fun to pick up with the injera.

There’s still plenty on the menu I’d like to try, including the kitfo, a famously spicy minced raw beef preparation, and any number of lamb and beef tibs variations.  If my meal is any indication most of it will be pretty darn tasty.  This is the sort of place where you should feel comfortable exploring much of the menu.  Someone in the kitchen really cares about what they are putting out.

Meaza’s also a good bargain.  The portions are generous and, considering the quality, well-priced.  You could get out at 15 to 20 bucks a person for dinner no problem.

So the only real hurdle for a City of Falls Church resident is getting there.  But if you’re an adventurous diner with a pension for spicy foods, I think a ten or fifteen minute trek isn’t too much to ask.

Meaza Restaurant is located at 5700 Columbia Pike, Falls Church, Virginia, 22941. (Click for map.) 703-820-2870.

FOOD: Breakfast of Champions, Vietnamese-Style

BY JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

January 15, 2010

For whatever reason, I find it hard to wrap my head around eating anything other than American food for breakfast.  At any other time of day I’m as adventurous as they come.  In fact, I go out of my way to eat un-American dishes at lunch and dinner because I love ethnic food so much.  But come morning all I want is cereal or pancakes or eggs with hash browns.

Breakfast is without question my strongest culinary connection to my home country.

This morning is different.  Instead of cracking an egg or clanking around in the kitchen for my cereal bowl and spoon, I’m sitting in traffic on my way to the Eden Center.  My curiosity has got the best of me and I want to see what it’s like to start my day in a decidedly Vietnamese way.

My destination is Banh Cuon Saigon, a mom and pop joint in the deep corridors of Saigon West mall that specializes in banh cuon. A northern Vietnamese delicacy, banh cuon has spread throughout Vietnam as a favorite breakfast item and now has many forms.  The basic preparation involves thin sheets of a steamed rice flour-based batter, which are rolled around a finely minced filling (usually pork or shrimp), topped with fried shallots, cilantro, and bean sprouts, and eaten with ungodly amounts of the fish sauce dip called nuoc cham. Sometimes the rolls are accompanied by cha lua, a baloney-esque Vietnamese sausage.

I always pick up the cannelloni-shaped treasures at delis in Eden, but I’ve never had some freshly made by an expert.  And I’ve never eaten them at 9 a.m. Even though the anticipation is killing me, I’m getting close to Eden and my body still wants cereal or pancakes.  I’m beginning to think this isn’t such a good idea.

When I finally pull into Eden the parking lot is blissfully barren.  I take this as a sign.  The time is right for my first Vietnamese breakfast.  I walk to the end of Saigon West mall, stopping outside the last restaurant on the right, which is simply called “Saigon.”  But I know its Banh Cuon Saigon because the menu has banh cuon all over the specials section and there are pictures of banh cuon on the windows.  There are already two tables filled—a good sign.

I seat myself and peruse the menu briefly to see which kind of banh cuon I want.  I can’t stomach the idea of ground shrimp or onion versions so early, so I opt for ground pork.  It will be my bacon for the morning.  The $7.50 price tag seems a bit steep, but when I see an order fly out of the kitchen while I’m waiting for mine I’m put at ease.  The portion is quite generous.

While I wait I worry.  How am I going to stomach this?  What will my body think of me when I pour fish sauce down it first thing in the morning?

I distract myself by playing with the hermetically sealed jar of nuoc cham on my table.  Each table in the restaurant has huge jars filled with the orange-tinged dip (the color is a result of pounding red chilies and garlic with sugar, and thus releasing their oils, before adding them to fish sauce, water, and lime juice), which diners ladle out into little saucers themselves.  I slosh it around, distributing the garlic and other sediments that have sunk to the bottom.  The smell is fishy but sweet.  It is most certainly not a morning breakfast aroma.

My order of banh cuon arrives in a few minutes and just like that my worries melt away.  I’m hungry and I’m going to eat.  I don’t care what is in front of me.

The only problem I see on the plate is a few slices of those pesky Vietnamese sausages, which I take one bite of and push aside.  I will never acquire a taste for rubbery pressed meats.   But the rest of the dish looks promising.  In addition to the typical bean sprouts, fried shallots, and cilantro, I see Thai basil, my all time favorite herb.  The rolls themselves are translucent and slippery-looking.

One bite and I’m convinced—these are easily the best banh cuon I’ve had.  Freshly cooked and just the right thickness, they have that perfect supple-tender-chewy texture that so many Vietnamese rice-based delicacies share.  Each bite I add more and more nuoc cham, which I’ve spiked with both the chili sauce and jalapenos on the table.  The lightly-seasoned crepes benefit from the pungent dip.

I see an elderly Vietnamese woman digging into her banh cuon with chopsticks, but I resort to using my spoon, which is able to hold a pool of nuoc cham at the bottom and makes for perfect bites.

I finish and pay, laughing at myself on the way out for making such a big fuss all morning about eating Vietnamese food for breakfast.

In the end it was nothing.  Good food is good food, regardless of when it’s eaten.  The banh cuon were a great start to my day, the only drawback being the fried shallot breath I suffered from afterwards, which was quickly remedied with some minty gum.

Now that I’ve broken the ice I’ve got a feeling I’ll be spending more and more mornings out of my element.  Eating an ethnic breakfast is really no different from eating an ethnic lunch or dinner.  You just have to get over that road block in your head that says you are supposed to eat a bagel with orange juice, or a grapefruit with a coffee, or two bowls of Special K, or whatever it is you normally eat.  And, as is often the case, a great place to start in the City of Falls Church to broaden your edible horizons is at the Eden Center.

Banh Cuon Saigon, 6795 Wilson Blvd, Ste 54, Falls Church, VA, 22044.  703-534-4482.

FOOD: Fine Dining for Less — D.C. Restaurant Week Is Here

BY JIMMY SCARANO
Falls Church Times Staff

January 11, 2010

Today marks the official start of Washington D.C.’s Winter Restaurant Week, a week-long culinary event in which over 180 of the area’s fine dining establishments offer special dining deals.  This year, participating restaurants will feature a three course meal at lunch for $20.10 and a three course meal at dinner for $35.10.  Technically the event runs through January 17, but many eateries extend the offer for longer and some have been offering the deals since the beginning of the month.

Restaurants differ in what they choose to include as part of the deal—some offer up their whole menu and some create a smaller, separate menu with a few choices per course.  And some restaurants only offer the reduced-price meal for lunch or dinner, not both.  To check out a list of all the participating places and their particular promotions click here.

Most people trek into the District to take advantage of the offer, but City of Falls Church residents have some local options as well.  Though Argia’s is the lone participant within City limits, there are several Arlington destination spots –including Falls Church Farmers Market Chef Series participants Willow and Liberty Tavern—with Restaurant Week specials.

Falls Church’s 2941, which recently landed #6 on Washingtonian Magazine’s annual list of the “Very Best” restaurants in the region, has had a $20.10 three course lunch special on its menu for a week already and will run it through January.  Check out the menu here.

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