Ping Pong Dim Sum

This had the makings of a subpar evening: trendy new restaurant serving dim sum (at night!), in a fancy setting, served by waitresses who couldn't pronounce most of the dishes on the menu. We really expected to be disappointed. As we were led to our tiny table and seated on stools with no backs in a loud (but beautiful) bar area, I was wondering why I'd opted to try Ping Pong Dim Sum. My mood brightened when I learned that the stools had little cubby holes in them to stow purses and jackets. So clever! My eyes widened when I spied the extensive drink menu that featured alcoholic bubble teas (boba, for you west coasters). This was just the beginning of a night full of welcomed surprises.

D.C. got the first U.S. outpost of this very popular London chain. Don't let the name fool you. Unlike Comet Ping Pong (see our post here), there are no ping pong tables in sight at Ping Pong Dim Sum. There are, however, thoughtful touches in abundance. I liked the cute explanation of dim sum on the back of the menu (For example, "Finally, always pick a 'wild card' dish for the table to share - something that you have never tried before - eating should always be fun.")

Though the restaurant's slogan is "little steamed parcels of deliciousness," I was still convinced it was really going to taste like "little steamed parcels of trendy, Americanized, over-priced dim sum."

Our first course was the honey glazed ribs. While the presentation was pretty bland, the ribs were tender and, according to B, spiced very authentically. They were good, but nothing amazing.

I thought we were in trouble when the waitress described char siu bao to us by saying "it's kinda like this fluffy thing with meat in it." What she didn't know is that B and I have been eating char siu bao since we were tiny tots. B's family goes to a special bakery in San Francisco to get "the best bao ever." B is HARD to please when it comes to bao, especially steamed bao. Imagine my sheer delight when he took his first bite and it passed his test! The dough was unbelievably fluffy and light. It was almost as if a cloud got tangled around bbq pork and fell from the sky onto our table. None of that too-hard, too-bland, pasty crap that is often passed off as steamed char siu bao. These definitely were steamed parcels of deliciousness! I could've eaten a dozen.

The crispy prawn balls were a challenge to eat as the crispy parts went flying across the table when I took my first bite. I could've done with a little more prawn and a little less crisp, but the flavors were great.

Next was the spicy vegetable dumpling. Maybe the chef forgot his spice rack because it was not spicy at all! While the dumpling skin was perfectly cooked, there was way too much cilantro inside for it to pass my deliciousness test.

The seafood sticky rice was one of my favorites. After removing the lotus leaf wrapper, we dove into wonderfully sticky and slightly sweet rice, packed with generous chunks of seafood and mushrooms.

This dish is traditionally made with star anise (black licorice, bleh) and I was pleasantly surprised that Ping Pong Dim Sum's version omitted the overpowering spice. Instead, they let the seafood and rice do all of the talking. What do seafood and rice say when you let them talk? "Eat me, I'm deliciously awesome!"

Next up was one of the stars of the American dim sum scene: har gau. It is so ubiquitous that you can buy it at the frozen food aisle of Trader Joe's. If you stacked all of the little shrimp balls that I've had in my life, you'd probably reach the moon. Sometimes they are too doughy, or too tough, or the shrimp is so overcooked it's like shoe leather. So simple, yet so easy to screw up. Once again, Ping Pong Dim Sum hit this dish out of the park. More please!

We debated ordering more food but decided to head straight to dessert after seeing these beauties on the menu: roasted pineapple and coconut spring rolls, served with a side of caramel dipping sauce. It was a sweet take on the egg roll and was a great way to end the meal.

I leave you with an open letter to Ping Pong Dim Sum:

Dear Ping Pong Dim Sum:

I didn't want to like you. You appeared completely shallow on the outside and I figured there was no substance behind your showy exterior. Your waitress was kind of clumsy, but by the end of the night, she was endearing. Your seats have no backs on them and it just reminds me that I have crappy posture. The review in the Post was bad, but you get major credit for taking the dishes that Tom S. didn't like off of the menu to revamp them. I thought you were going to be way too expensive, but you surprised me when you brought my check and the food was only $39 for two. Your drinks are too expensive, but I guess it's fair that you slash the prices on them during happy hour and that you gave me a coupon for free drinks if I return.

I wanted to scream and cry that you're taking authentic dim sum and white-washing it for American palates, but then you brought me one of the best bao dishes I've ever had. B and I often wonder what our quarter-Chinese kids will look like and whether we'll do a good enough job at preserving their Chinese heritage. Well, Ping Pong Dim Sum, you're probably less than a quarter Chinese, and you're beautiful and seem well-grounded in your heritage. There is hope for us yet!

Until next time,

J

Second Thoughts from B

I think J said it all. There were so many areas that Ping Pong Dim Sum could have screwed up. Instead, they took the cuisine that has been fine tuned over centuries and beloved by billions, and simply did it really well. The best ingredients, all fresh, with the only twist being that they made it a bit more healthy by finding a way to eliminate unnecessary grease. How ironic that it took a British invasion to bring great Chinese food to Chinatown...

In my experience, DC has a wealth of sophisticated, international palates. There is no need to be afraid of foreign flavors anymore. Sure, there is always a place for Panda Express or Chipotle, but it is refreshing to have an option for quality, authentic ethnic food too. Normally J and I search out the "dirty" places; knowing that they'll be most true to the original culture. But it is nice to occasionally get those same flavors in places where you're more likely to see a cloth napkin on your lap than a cockroach.

J talked about the food specifically, and I would echo her sentiments. With all due respect to the Washington Post's venerable food critic, Tom Sietsema, and with the understanding that our respective experiences could have been very different, I'd have to say Ping Pong Dim Sum is among the best Chinese food options in the District, if not anywhere. In all my experiences with Chinese food - whether in LA, SF, or throughout China - the blend of authenticity with high-class modern dining was a perfect balance.

Many of the dishes were noteworthy, but as you probably picked up, the bao really represented the pleasant surprise that was Ping Pong Dim Sum. I can't overstate my love of bao. It holds a warm place in the hearts and stomachs of my family, and has been the driving force behind many treks to San Francisco to get the perfect bao. (One time we brought the entire family into the city just to carry my grandmother's order of 12 dozen softball-sized bao) What I'm saying is that the B stamp of approval for bao might be more difficult to obtain than bipartisan agreement on health care reform. So since we all know we shouldn't hold our breath to see if Democrats and Republicans can compromise, just head down to 7th and I St. to witness something almost as wonderful in this fair city.

Ice Skating in the Sculpture Garden

You know those "Love is..." cartoons that used to run in the newspaper? The ones with the little naked kids? I hope you do or that you click the link, or else this post will sound creepy... Anyway, the point is that if they were to ever make one of these cartoons about me (for everybody's benefit, I would hope it would be clothed), it would say, "Love is... ice skating."

I do not like to ice skate. It is one of those things that I'm really, really terrible at. I feel completely uncoordinated and out of control. On the other hand, watching J skate is a thing of beauty. While I'm flailing around in an anxiety-riddled panic, she gracefully glides across the ice without a care in the world. It is quite a contrast.

But just because I don't like to ice skate doesn't mean I can't appreciate a unique and memorable experience that involves ice skating. Consider that last two times I've laced up a pair of skates; the top of Vail mountain as the sun set over the Rockies and in Central Park in New York. While going to the local ice rink would certainly be last on my list, there are always exceptions, and as you might have guessed by now, it is something I'll do for J.

So with an open mind (read: open to the idea of falling on my butt), I volunteered to subject myself to ridicule at the National Gallery of Art's Sculpture Garden Ice Rink.

I guess it goes without saying that the rink is located in the shadow of the picturesque National Archives Building on the National Mall, and in the middle of a beautiful garden setting with world-class sculpture sprinkled throughout. Less obvious is the above-average cafe which is worth checking out for a hot beverage or a meal.

We chose to go on a brilliantly sunny and warm weekend, which apparently was not a unique idea. When we arrived, the line was quite long and we considered (at least, I did) throwing in the towel. But 45 minutes later, we were laced up and waiting our turn.

Basically it works like this. There are two lines, one for skates and one for tickets. You pay for your ticket ($7), skate rental ($3), and locker ($0.50 with $5 deposit), and then you get into the skate line. Tickets are sold for 2 hour blocks of time that start and end on the hour. We would recommend getting there 30 minutes before the hour on crowded days.

So the ice skating was as awkward and uncomfortable as expected. Fortunately, also as expected, the experience was very cool (insert ice pun here) and I'm glad I did it once. If nothing else, J was giddy and loved every minute of it. Love is...

J Says

Despite what B says, he is not a terrible ice skater! He didn't fall and he looked much more graceful than he lets on. However, I know how much stress skating causes him, so I'm really appreciative of the fact that he will put on a smile and ice skate with me every few years.

As B said, the setting for the ice rink is beautiful and this beauty attracts crowds. Though they limit the number of skaters per session, it can still get pretty crowded on the ice. Navigating the people falling and little kids sliding across the ice on their backs can be quite tricky. Just don't go on a weekend expecting a serene skating experience.

Also, what's with the wanna-be Brian Boitanos and Michelle Kwans who occupy the center of the rink and demonstrate their mediocre skating prowess? There was one guy who awkwardly glided/spun around the center of the rink for several hours trying to demonstrate his skating superiority. There was something both hilarious and sad about watching a grown man try to show off his skills in the middle of a crowded rink. If he was a real ice skater and needed practice time, I don't imagine he would be practicing in the middle of 8 million falling children and their falling parents. Also, he probably should have been wearing figure skates instead of hockey skates if he wanted to throw some double axels.

Despite the crowds (and the semi-creepy people in the middle of the rink), this ice rink is worth a visit. It is beautiful and a fun activity to do with friends or that special someone. In fact, two of our friends had their first date there, and they're married now!

Taylor Gourmet

I never thought I'd get so excited about a sandwich place. My only real knowledge of hoagies came from Dr. Huxtable on The Cosby Show and I could never figure out why he was so addicted to a sandwich. Thankfully, Taylor Gourmet showed me what all the hype is about.

It all started when two Philadelphia natives moved to D.C. and realized there were no good hoagies to be found. They decided to open their own version of a Philadelphia hoagie shop on H Street NE. After a successful start, they expanded to a second location on 5th/K streets NW. We visited Taylor Gourmet II last week and I'm already planning my return visit.

The interior could be described as modern garage chic. The lamp shades are made of buckets and there is a roll-up garage door on the wall facing K Street.

When you walk in the door you'll notice that the soda fountain isn't your average Coke or Pepsi machine. It features old-timey Boylan sodas made with real sugarcane. I highly recommend the black cherry and ginger ale.

Though hoagies are what Taylor Gourmet is known for, I couldn't resist sampling fare from the fritto section of the menu. We opted for Rocky's Risotto Balls (arancini, for my Italian friends) served with a side of tangy/spicy marinara. I feel really weird saying that Rocky's Balls were fantastic, but they were! Wow, cheesy risotto goodness lovingly wrapped in a thin fried shell. So simple, yet so good.

On to the main event: the hoagies. Each sandwich is named after a street in Philly. B ordered the Ninth Street Italian (genoa salami, capicola, prosciutto, sharp provolone, lettuce, tomato, onions). I'm pretty sure he giggled with delight when he took his first bite. It was awesome. A word of warning though . . . the 12" may be too much sandwich for the average eater to handle.

I tried the Race Street (home-roasted turkey, prosciutto, pesto, fresh mozzarella, lettuce, tomato). It was incredibly good. It was packed with huge chunks of fresh cheese and the bread (direct from a Philly bakery) was soft, yet not so soft that it collapsed under the weight of the mammoth sandwich. The 6-inch was more than enough sandwich for the average appetite.


After polishing off the hoagie, risotto balls, and sugary sweet soda, I wasn't sure it could get any better. That was until I found out that Taylor Gourmet delivers. I think I know what we're having for dinner tonight.

Second Thoughts from B

I've probably said it before, but this is what a sandwich should be. The combination of fresh ingredients was a thing of beauty, but what makes Taylor Gourmet stand out is that each individual element was indeed gourmet. Perhaps most striking was the cheese. You know when you go to a fancy restaurant and order a Caesar salad with the thin square slices of fresh Parmesan on top? Those slices of heaven somehow found their way into my sandwich. Each bite was layered with the best bread, the best meat, the best cheese, the best... you get the idea.

What can I say? It was a gourmet sandwich. A great big gourmet sandwich. I may regularly polish off a footlong at Subway or Potbelly's but at Taylor Gourmet, 6 inches is fine for me... plus, it leaves room for more risotto balls!

1789

In our last post, I mentioned that people either love or hate Restaurant Week. After having a wonderful meal at Hook (see our post here), I was feeling the Restaurant Week love. A trip to 1789 was enough to make me swear off Restaurant Week for good.

First off, let me apologize for the lack of photos. I left the camera in the car and since the menu asks guests to refrain from using electronic devices, I didn't want to take photos with my Droid. So instead, let me try to paint a picture of our experience with words. Here we go . . .

The evening started out on a high note with 1789's free valet parking. The restaurant is housed in an old federal rowhouse with dining rooms on multiple levels. It has an old-timey charm and cozy atmosphere.

We noticed that there were three prix fixe menus: a Restaurant Week menu, a Citris Tasting menu, and a New Year menu. At a lot of restaurants, the different prix fixe menus have different numbers of courses. To allow all dinner guests at the table to be served at the same time, if one person is ordering off of the prix fixe menu, most places encourage everyone else to order from that same set menu. B didn't realize that all of the prix fixe menus had 3 courses, so he asked our waiter whether both people at the table should order from the same prix fixe menu. What happened next was so ridiculous that I was sure we wrote down the exact quotes:

B: "If one person orders the New Year menu, should both people order it?"

Waiter: "I don't want you to spend more money than you have."

B and J exchange shocked looks

J: No, I think what B is saying is that he wants to be sure we both end up ordering off of menus that have the same number of courses.

Waiter: "I can't force you to order something you can't afford."

We stared at each other in uncomfortable disbelief. Yes, we look young but we were dressed professionally and followed the restaurant's dress code (B was in a suit). We were stunned into silence by the waiter's bold suggestion that we couldn't afford the more expensive New Year menu. We considered walking out the door but decided to see if things improved. We should have left when we had the chance.

When B ordered his first course (off of the elitist New Year menu!) he requested the scallop crudo. Our waiter, suffering from a recurring case of foot-in-mouth disease, said in a condescending tone: "Do you know what crudo is?" After suggesting we were poor, he then suggested that B didn't know enough about food to know that crudo means the scallops would be served raw. I could think of about a million other ways to inform the diner that the dish is raw.

I know you're probably wondering whether we spoke to a manager. We broke one of the golden rules of dining and failed to do so while still in the restaurant. However, in our defense, the situation was so incredibly uncomfortable that we just wanted to eat our food and get out of there. That brings me to the food. It was fine but definitely not good enough to overcome the seriously uncomfortable waiter situation. Here's a brief run down of what we had:

J (Restaurant Week Menu w/ wine pairing)

Potato Gnocchi with Surryano ham, mustard greens, Serena cheese, and rosemary. It looked and tasted as if it had been sitting under a heat lamp for a long time. The sauce had separated and was congealed so that I could drag it around the plate with my fork. The greens were wilted (yes, they were cooked but cooked to death) and sad looking. I would be sad too if I had to hang out in this place.

European White Feathered Chicken - butter roasted salsify, spinach, toasted hazelnuts, and Meyer lemon. The chicken was perfectly cooked and one of the best chicken preparations I've ever had. The sauce, however, was bland and I tasted no hint of Meyer lemon.

Caramel Banana Bread Pudding - eggnog ice cream, Medjool date purée, and hazelnut-pistachio toffee. A "blah" finish to an awkward evening. The spice flavor overwhelmed the dish, leaving the whole thing tasting flat.

The wine pairing was the high point of the meal. The three half glasses were just the right amount of wine for me and I thought the $15 upcharge for the pairing was reasonable.

B (New Year menu w/ wine pairing)

Scallop crudo - I don't know if the waiter's comment affected B's impression of this dish but B said it was just ok.

Herb Crusted Rack of Lamb - crisp rosemary fingerling potatoes, stewed mustard greens and lamb jus. After the waiter said that the lamb was "why people come here," B had to order it. The lamb was perfectly cooked and completely outshone the sad potatoes and greens on the plate.

Bittersweet Chocolate Meringue Cake - peppermint stick ice cream, chocolate ganache, and pulled sugar candy. This one left us wishing we had our camera. It was a gorgeous presentation with clouds of meringue topped with thin sticks of red pulled sugar.

Even if the food was mind-blowing, I wouldn't go back. For us, 1789 felt like a restaurant that loathed Restaurant Week for the riff raff that it brings into their fine establishment. You know what? This food-blogging piece of riff raff doesn't want to return to your uppity restaurant ever again.

Second Thoughts From B

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Maybe so, but a woman scorned hath no fury like a J when she (and worse yet, her husband) are treated like hell. Could you tell?

I try to be understanding and give people the benefit of the doubt but for the life of me, I can't figure out where this guy was coming from. Maybe he misheard or misunderstood the question. Fine. But why would you risk insulting someone who may be able to afford your restaurant? Worse yet, why would you risk embarassing someone who had saved up to treat his girlfriend or wife? Either way, that's not how you answer the question.

Getting to the food, each of our proteins were of excellent quality, and when cooked, done so perfectly. The flavors were ok, but nothing to rave about. The side dishes, however, were uniformly uninteresting and uninspired. J was pretty luke warm on her dessert, which is a shame considering her love of bread pudding and bananas, but mine was a sight to see. It was perhaps one of the most artistically constructed/presented desserts I've seen. And it tasted good too!

But even with the few highlights, the night was defined by our waiter. Should we judge a place based on one person? Maybe that's not fair but the reality is that there are plenty of great restaurants in this city that have proven themselves to us with better food and better service.

Unfortunately, a Restaurant Week trend is starting to emerge for us; the older, more established restaurants seem a lot less willing to go out of their way to impress the new business that Restaurant Week brings. Oceanaire (post), Bobby Van's (post), Prime Rib (post), and now 1789.