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.

We, the Pizza

Fans of all things Spike Mendelsohn have no reason to ever leave the stretch of Pennsylvania Avenue SE between 3rd and 4th streets. Just this week, Chef Spike and his team opened up We, the Pizza right next to his popular Good Stuff Eatery. As a pizza lover and Good Stuff fan (see our thoughts here), I've been eagerly anticipating opening day for months.

Since we know that every single restaurant is going to have its ups and downs in the beginning, we'll overlook the hot and smoky interior, the lack of gelato (I was crushed when I learned I couldn't try the Nutella Smores gelato due to a broken machine), and the fact that the upstairs area was closed for a private event leading to a serious lack of seating options. From what we sampled, We, the Pizza is definitely We, the Potential.

To start, the prices are surprisingly reasonable. Slices are $3 for the cheese and $4 for the other 9 specialty pies. Given the fact that We, The Pizza uses fresh, local, and top-notch ingredients (not to mention the celebrity chef buzz to drive demand), I don't think you'll find a better pizza value in town. The uber-thick Flintstones-style cast iron slices are only $5. Ridiculous. The made-to-order sodas are $3 with an extra shot of syrup setting you back only 25 cents. After the first sip, B called his Jupina Pineapple Soda "pretty much the most awesomenest thing ever." While my Don't Forget Your Ginger Roots Soda didn't change my life, I look forward to working my way through the unique soda menu.

If olde timey soda isn't your thing, you are lame. Just kidding. If olde timey soda isn't your thing, they also offer beer to wash down your pizza. If pizza isn't your thing, they have salads, pasta, subs, and wings (but you also may be lame).

As for the pizza, we ordered (clockwise, starting at the top-left) the Sicilian cast iron pie (chunky tomato sauce, mozzarella, fresh basil), the simple cheese pie (tomato sauce, mozzarella, oregano), the buffalo chicken pie (spicy boneless chicken wings, creamy blue cheese, mozzarella, miguel's hot sauce), and the forest shroomin pie (wild forest mushrooms, truffles, mozzarella, fresh thyme).

As we sat outside, I looked over at the Good Stuff tables and after staring longingly at the milkshakes, I realized I feel the same way about We, the Pizza that I do about Good Stuff. For me, it isn't the very best burger or slice of pizza in town, but when you put it all together in a complete package, I like it better than other places. Adding in the fries and shakes at Good Stuff or the sodas and gelato (someday) at We, the Pizza equals a total package that isn't easily matched. With their adjacent locations, you could create some pretty amazing (and calorically terrible) combos. Pizza and a Milky Way shake anyone?

Second Thoughts from B

We, the Work in Progress is exactly what any Good Stuff fan would expect. As J said, no single element is superior to other options in DC. But assuming some of the hiccups are resolved, I can't imagine that we don't make We, the Pizza a frequent stop.

In order to sample several of the offerings, we ordered pizza by the slice. Would our opinions change if we received a piping hot pie fresh out of the oven? Perhaps. However, even after a couple of the pieces had been sitting out for a short while, they were delicious. The crust was flavorful and perfectly cooked. The extra thick version on the Sicilian was crisp on the outside and just doughy enough on the inside, while the thin crust had the perfect amount of crunch on the bottom of each slice. All the dough was noticeably more salty than the average pizza crust which made eating it plain more of a pleasure than a chore. However, keep in mind that this is coming from someone who craves salt like Spencer Pratt craves attention...

The buffalo chicken pizza was extremely well done but it just didn't feel right to me. Maybe I'm too closed minded or maybe I just don't love buffalo wings enough (if you do, I'd recommend trying a slice). The Forest shroomin was a tutorial in umami, and I loved it. Like the crust, it was heavy on the salt but the earthiness of the mushrooms sold me. The Sicilian cast iron pie was massive and wonderful. I applaud Chef Spike for creating something that big without making the size the selling point. Not only could eating this mammoth help build your biceps, it was also a great festival of flavors and textures in your mouth. Still, I think it could be used as a weapon, so beware. I even hear that Clue is considering adding it to their game. "I propose that it was Chef Spike, in the kitchen, with the Sicilian crust..." Finally, the plain New York style pizza may be the piece I'll order the most in the future. Nothing fancy, just cheese, sauce, and dough (plus salt) that work well together and flood your mind with memories of walking across the Brooklyn bridge with an oily slice of New York's finest.

Corduroy

Talk about an upgrade. When we first visited Corduroy in 2007, it was located in the dingy Sheraton Four Points Hotel on K Street. The dining room was big and unforgettable, and our service was absolutely awful. Still, we liked the food enough to keep it on our list, and when Chef Tom Power moved the restaurant to a charming rowhouse on 9th Street, we knew we needed to give it another go.

Corduroy would be easy to miss from the street. It is tucked between abandoned old rowhomes and a cigar store in what can best be described as the "up and coming" area surrounding the Washington Convention Center. Anyone brave or smart enough to look past the dreary streetview and walk up the (steep) steps will find a rowhouse as warm and welcoming as any in a more posh neighborhood.

We were seated at a table near the open kitchen where we could watch Chef Power and his team in action. Corduroy offers a small menu with a focus on seasonal, local ingredients. I had a simple green salad that tasted as if it had been picked minutes before. Everything was bursting with color and freshness. Though I rarely order chicken in a restaurant, I'm glad I sampled the roast baby chicken. It was tiny (and probably not enough meat for a big eater) but deliciously seasoned and juicy. I have no idea how they cook a chicken that small without drying it out. There must be magicians back there in chef whites.

We were relieved to find that the dining room wasn't the only thing that had improved. Our service was attentive without being too pushy. It was light years away from the night three years ago that we were completely ignored by the staff.

Second Thoughts from B

As J said, we had the new Corduroy on our list hoping that it had improved. Even so, despite a constant barrage of good press, I just couldn't shake the memory of its disastrous debut. This would be a meal that we were planning for my parents and some close family friends that included a rather wide range of tastes. At our table of six we had the people most responsible for our appreciation of food sitting along side others who might say that food and eating is overrated. But despite my anxiety over the planning of this meal, in the end, I felt like Indiana Jones foregoing all of the jewel encrusted golden chalices in favor of the plain "cup of a carpenter." Sometimes it pays to keep it simple.

Corduroy was a good fit. No molecular gastronomy here... it is just simple food done extremely well. And despite their "jackets recommended" policy (which we happily avoided on this sweltering summer night), the environment was comfortable and welcomed conversation befitting a group who had a lot of catching up to do.

As for my food, I started with the Tomato Tonnato, which was like a tuna-based salsa. The chopped tomato and raw tuna combined with hints of spice didn't look like much but tasted like a breath of fresh air. It was cool and light, and exactly the way to start a summer meal. As for my entree, of course I couldn't turn down the waiter's suggestion of Pennsylvannia lamb loin with garlic crepenette and cream spinach! My thoughts could be summed up by my reaction to my first bite. As my eyes rolled back in my head, I had to catch myself from turning into Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally."

As we walked back at the end of the evening with wide smiles and full bellies, I breathed a sigh of relief and heard the old Grail knight say, "You have chosen... wisely."