Fro-Zen-Yo

I have to start out by apologizing to our dear friend Mr. Yogato. We are Yogato loyalists through and through (see exhibit A). We've shunned Tangysweet and Sweetgreen yogurt in favor of the quirky and fun-loving Mr. Y. We've recited haikus at his first birthday party, built a pasta sculpture of his adorable likeness, donated a haiku-only whiteboard for his store, and have worn countless "Mr. Yogato stamped me" forehead stamps around town. So it is with a somewhat heavy heart that I must admit that we stole a quick date with another yogurt shop. I'm sorry Mr. Y. She was the new kid on the block and she was calling my name with her self-serve style. She's sexy and she's new, but she's not worthy of being Mrs Y. You'll always be our number one.

With that out of the way, I introduce you to Fro-Zen-Yo. To my knowledge, it is the first self-serve frozen yogurt shop in DC. This style of yogurt-eating brings back fond memories from my childhood in Orange County, CA. There is a self-serve yogurt place that I went to called America's Cup that was letting customers over-indulge way back in the early 90's before frozen yogurt was called (shudder) "fro yo," and before anyone thought it was a good idea to make the stuff tart. I was pretty convinced that America's Cup was heaven. While I was too short to reach most of the machine levers, I was tall enough to reach the toppings bar. This usually resulted in a cup that was 90% toppings and 10% yogurt. That's the beauty of self-serve, you can do whatever the heck you want with it.

I give credit to Fro-Zen-Yo for having a wide variety of flavors. As seen from the photo above, you can wander between 8 machines with 2 flavors each to create your perfect yogurt creation. I was thrilled to see they have the "classic" sweet flavors such as peanut butter and some fun ones like birthday cake in addition to the ever so trendy tart flavors. The toppings bar is located at the back of the store and contains a respectable selection of goodies. They lose points for the lack of peanut butter cups and cookie dough, but gain points for the maraschino cherries and whipped cream canisters. They also earn points by doing a good job of wiping things up after customers make a mess. Often, self-serve yogurt places are plagued by gross, sticky spots on each and every surface.

After paying, I noticed that they had a hot topping bar. Since it was placed after the cash registers and their website says "FREE HOT FUDGE", I'm wondering if you can add hot fudge after you've weighed and paid? Anyone know what the deal is?

After you've filled your cup to your heart's content, you place the yogurt on a scale. You pay per ounce, so you determine your destiny. B has a fancy way of putting toppings on the bottom, then yogurt, then more toppings to maximize topping distribution. He's a methodical engineer about it while I just say "Ooooh toppings!" and pile them on.

So was Ms. Fro-Zen-Yo able to lure us in with her flexible create-your-own ways? While we love the self-serve concept, the store is lacking the fun factor of Mr. Y. The staff was texting instead of interacting, and the few chairs and sterile interior don't make it an inviting place to linger.

I like the variety of yogurt flavors, but I found they vary wildly in tastiness. Some have a super-chemically taste (I'm looking at you, Red Velvet), while others are rich and creamy. The Blueberry Tart was so tart that it overpowered everything else in B's cup, but he gave high marks to the Cheesecake.

I think Fro-Zen-Yo is worth a shot if you're in the neighborhood. From a sign in the store advertising future locations, you might always be in the neighborhood of Fro-Zen-Yo. They have a ridiculous number of new locations planned. However, if you want quirky, fun, with a side of adorable, you can't beat Mr. Yogato.

Second Thoughts from B

I am loyal, almost to a fault. It is just who I am. I won't wear any other team paraphernalia or even the colors of a rival team. I literally can count on one hand the number of red items in my entire wardrobe. It is not superstition. When my best man spoke at my wedding, he spoke about loyalty. It shows up in my personal relationships, my rooting interests, and apparently, in my yogurt shop selections.

That's why this post is laced with guilt. I love Mr. Yogato. It is kind of like our Cheers, and J and I are Norm and Cliff (I'll let you determine which is which). They didn't go because the beer was any better. They went for the whole experience, and of course, because... (cue the theme song music) sometimes you wanna go...

But let's focus on the yogurt, and only the yogurt. Summoning all of my objectivity, I might admit privately that I like Fro-Zen-Yo's offerings more. The variety, especially the creamy/sweet yogurt, are really good and being able to take a little of everything from the toppings bar is great for those who are often indecisive, like me. Publicly however, I'm a Mr. Y man without equivocation. So, shhhh, don't tell anyone about this...

Baked and Wired - Beyond the Cupcakes

In our Great DC Cupcake Taste Test, I ranked Baked and Wired's strawberry cupcake over the competition from Hello Cupcake, Red Velvet, and (the now ridiculously over-hyped) Georgetown Cupcake. I loved everything about the cupcake including the fresh strawberries in the ultra-moist cake and the fresh strawberry frosting. Imagine my surprise and sheer delight when B and his parents surprised me with a GINORMOUS fresh strawberry cake from Baked and Wired! Check this baby out.

One bite of this cake confirmed that Baked and Wired is a lot more than just cupcakes. Somehow, they were able to take the majesty that is the fresh strawberry cupcake and giant-size it without losing any freshness or flavor. I don't know how they do it, but I like to picture some sort of magic giantization machine a la Willy Wonka. This cake was so large that we had leftovers every day for over a week. I thought I'd be so sick of the cake after a few days but it was so amazing that I did a little jig of happiness each evening when I remembered that the cake sat waiting for me in the fridge.

In addition to cake, Baked and Wired also does granola better than any place we've been. They make a "homegrown" variety called Hippie Crack, and it is as addictive as its title indicates. I like to eat it in a bowl with milk, but it also makes a fantastic topping for yogurt, and is yummy enough to eat plain right out of the bag.


The next time you're in Georgetown, skip right past the ridiculous 2 hour line at Georgetown Cupcake and turn down tiny Thomas Jefferson street. There you'll find a cute little shop with a laid back vibe and some of the tastiest treats you'll ever eat.

Second Thoughts from B

Ever have to work out with a medicine ball? Remember the first time it was thrown at you and you were shocked by its weight? That's exactly what I thought when I first picked up this sneaky-heavy cake. But despite the weight, it remains light on your fork (although maybe not your waist line) and is shockingly delicious even after sitting around for a week.

As for the Hippie Crack, nothing has ever been so appropriately named. More than granola, it is indescribably moist and flavorful with its combination of oats, nuts, dried fruit, coconut, and honey, and I suspect that it was mixed together by the hand of God.

So let's review. Best cupcake in town, as determined by our highly scientific taste test. One of the best cakes you'll ever have, with the size (and probably calories) to feed a small village for a week. And something so wonderful that it can be accurately compared to a drug... without the whole chemical addiction/ruin your life thing. What can't these people do?

Every time I walk into Baked and Wired, I have the look on my face that Kevin Costner's father in Field of Dreams had, right before he asked if the field was heaven. Costner's character responded sheepishly by saying, "No, it's Iowa" which might be what you're thinking. "B, you're talking about cake and granola, what's the big deal?" Honestly, I don't know to respond other than Baked and Wired might just be heaven. It is that good.

The Italian Store

Some people ask us how we select the restaurants we blog about. Honestly, we just write about whatever we happen to be eating at the time. It is part of that whole blogging our lives instead of living to blog thing. When deciding what we want to try next, I have a mental list of restaurants that I've heard about. Some have attained almost mythical status because of the number of times it has been recommended or the fact that it is in some distant land called Virginia or Maryland. Last weekend we found ourselves in Arlington to check out one of these mythical places: The Italian Store.

From the parking lot, it wasn't what I was expecting. I pictured a more ramshackle building rather than a standard "this could be located in any city" strip mall location. I also thought there would be a line outside. It was Sunday around lunch time, which I've heard is when the Italian Store is busiest. Since I didn't see a line snaking out the door, I figured we'd be in and out in no time. Turns out, there isn't a line at all. Instead, you take a number and wait by milling about the store filled with all sorts of Italian fare for sale. Even if it doesn't look that packed, you could be in for a 30 minute wait for a sandwich. This is one of those places that can be intimidating for newbies, so I'll share with you the rules of the road that we learned on our first trip.

• If you only want to order slices of pizza, you don't need to take a number! Just go up to the counter on the far right and order your pizza. Numbers are for sandwich seekers only.
• If you are ok with a pre-made Milano, you don't need to take a number. Unlike the point above that is clearly posted on a sign in the store, this shortcut was more difficult to figure out. After waiting for about 20 minutes, I noticed a basket of wrapped sandwiches on the counter. I asked the sandwich maker with the crazy mustache what the deal was with the pre-made sandwiches. He said that every day they put out Milano subs with all of the fixings (their most popular), which are ready for the taking without waiting in line. Since I was planning on ordering a Milano anyway, I snatched one up and ditched my line number. So, if you don't like lines and are happy with slices of pizza and a Milano sub, you can get in and out quickly and easily.
  
• You can also call in your order in advance to save the time.

After waiting a couple of minutes for our pizza slices (and a cannoli), we wandered outside to one of the tables. There are no places to eat inside, so I imagine that The Italian Store becomes a to-go only option in the winter months. We dove right in to the Nino's pizza slice (left: white garlic sauce, spinach, ricotta, fontina, mozzarella, and spices) and the Tradizionale (right: plain cheese). While I thought that the reheated slices were a bit too crispy on the bottom, B loved the crackle and snap of the crust. The flavors were great and I think that if I had a fresh out of the oven piece of cheese pizza, I would have been in heaven. While not overwhelmingly large slices, they are a good deal at $3.29 for the Nino's and only $2.75 for the cheese.

We took our Milano sub to go and ate it at the car dealer while waiting for our car to be serviced. When we unwrapped this gem in the waiting area, I could see other customers salivating. Either that or they were annoyed that we stunk up the place with our sub. Sorry! Was it worth risking evil eyes from the Acura faithful to sample The Italian Store's most popular sandwich? Absolutely.

For me, this sandwich was a revelation. I grew up ordering turkey sandwiches on white bread with mayo, cheese, and lettuce. Even though I now add more sophisticated toppings, I still order turkey 99% of the time. Biting in to the Milano with its two varieties of Italian ham, genoa salami, provolone cheese, lettuce, onions, sweet and hot peppers, oregano, and special dressing made me realize what I've been missing. A whole new world of sandwich possibilities now lies before me.

Another revelation came in the form of a cannoli. I know you're probably looking at that picture and thinking that it looks like a plain cannoli but I had never had one before.

If you've recovered from your shock, (Matty C. I know you are aghast and I apologize) let me tell you that I loved this thing. Now please excuse me while I go off in search of non-turkey sandwiches and cannolis. I might be hooked.

Second Thoughts from B

After J's epic ode of a blog post that would make Homer proud, what more can I say? Sure, there may be room for the obligatory Godfather quote, but other than that, if you haven't Googled directions to this place by now, check your pulse 'cause you might be dead.

Having just experienced We, the Pizza (see here), it would be hard not to compare the two. Both are guaranteed to make your mouth water. Both have great crusts and great ingredients. The biggest - and really, only - difference that we noticed was the wonderful tangy bite that came from the sharper cheeses used on the Italian Store's pies. Having grown up adoring bleu cheese and extra sharp cheddar, this was right up my alley.

As far as the Milano sandwich, I couldn't help think that this was the inspiration for the Wreck at Potbelly. With that said, there's something about getting it at an Italian deli that takes it to another level. Maybe it is the higher quality ingredients or perhaps it is just the environment, but that was a good sandwich.

Now to the cannoli. I knew J had never had one and I knew there was no chance she wouldn't love it. Still, I had to make sure her first time was special. Mission accomplished. Sweet, smooth, crunchy cookie-like shell, perfect. So for all of you cannoli virgins out there, find your way to Arlington before I have to put out that Godfather quote...

Corcoran Gallery of Art

This last weekend we took advantage of the Corcoran's free summer Saturdays which runs through September 4th. As loyal readers know, J and I are strong advocates of the Smithsonian Institution (see here, here, here, and here), partially because we're even stronger advocates of the concept of "free." I've often wondered how museums in this town are able to charge admission when patrons have world-class alternatives for no cost at all.

Still, J and I have been known to pony up the cash for the right to explore the Spy Museum and the Newseum, or for a special exhibit at the National Geographic Museum (see here), just to name a few.

But of all the options that DC has for purchase, the one we've returned to most often is the Corcoran Gallery of Art (see here). Whether this means it is our favorite, or just a byproduct of an annual pass that was given to us a few years ago, it is hard to say. But for those of you who believe that actions speak louder than words... dem da facts.

Regardless, the Corcoran should be on every DC resident's list, if for no other reason than to see first-rate art in a beautiful building that is usually not decorated by hoards of tourists. And what's better, it is free on Saturdays this summer!

So to further whet your appetite (and hopefully prepare you for your next visit), here are a few more of the museum highlights from a recent photo safari:

The House of Representatives by Samuel Finley Breese Morse

The Veiled Nun by Giuseppe Croff

One of Gilbert Stuart's famous portraits of George Washington

J Says

We've seen some fantastic exhibitions at the Corcorcan including photographer Annie Leibovitz and Vietnam Memorial designer Maya Lin. Since I'm not the art museum junkie in our marriage, I love the Corcoran because it packs a lot of interesting items into an accessible size. Some people might think bigger is better when it comes to art museums, but I disagree. I'm much more likely to appreciate the art if I can tackle it in manageable doses with a stop in a good gift shop after. If you've been meaning to see what the Corcoran has to offer but have balked at the $10 admission fee, hurry in during the free Saturdays in August and let us know what you think.