Bourbon Steak

I could hardly resist going to a restaurant that pairs two of my favorite things in its name, so we went on a special occasion for a very expensive but great meal.

You get what you pay for. Bourbon Steak offered not only excellent, creative dishes but service so good it almost eclipsed the food. From the friendly greetings, to the personable waiter, to the knowledgeable sommelier -- hey, you say, this is the way it's supposed to be, but as you know it so rarely is -- you just felt well taken care of. The waiter explained the signature dishes and why they were signature, without being pushy. The sommelier started his recommendations with a 100+ bottle, and, hearing no demurrals, moved on to 200+, and then 400+ before I reined him in, pointing to a Burgundy in the 50-80 range (that's as low as they get). He had nothing but good things to say about it and described it perfectly; it was a great accompaniment to the meal and, as he advised when he brought it, the last bottle they had.

The restaurant was chilly when we came in and the waiter actually fulfilled his promise to have them turn up the heat so that it was comfortable during the meal.

There was the de rigueur craft cocktail menu, so I ordered the signature bourbon-based Brown Derby, which was a nice drink, served up in a medium-sized coupe. Andrea stuck with a cosmo.

The amuse-gueule in the upscale steakhouse were three types -- herb, spicey (not too much) and something else -- of duck fat french fries each with its own matching sauce. They disappeared rapidly.

My octopus karma continued to function and I ordered their tasty "octopus poke" as a starter. Andrea indulged in a marvelous ahi tuna tatar, which was mixed with the yolk of a quail egg at the table and served with an overabundance of toast. I followed with a wagyu flatiron steak cooked a very rare medium-rare, and Andrea ordered a pork schnitzel with wild mushrooms that made her eyes pop out.

I was tempted by the 18-ounce bone-in strip, but decided the 10-ounce flatiron was more unusual and worth trying. It had the buttery mouth-feel the waiter had described but its different beef flavor takes some adjusting. It is lean meat and perhaps an acquired taste. I'm glad I tried it, but next time will probably opt for the more familiar Angus beef.

Andrea's schnitzel of Berkshire pork was nicely flattened and perfectly deep-fried in its fluffy breading. The wild mushrooms piled on top (with another egg) were delicious and almost too strong for the thin pork cutlet. Both dishes were ample and filling. We ordered a single side, the cassoulet with goat (meat), and it worked very well with both dishes.

We had mentioned the special occasion in our reservation and received two glasses of champagne on the house at the end of the meal as well as a complimentary mini-dessert. We had already ordered a butterscotch pot-de-creme that was a little too deconstructed for my taste.

The only real drawback was the gloomy decor, which doesn't quite succeed in conveying the expense-account feel the restaurant is clearly seeking. It was neither warm nor classy, nor really even close. The check, however, was perfectly convincing for an expense-account meal, though we were paying with our own money.

Vendor vacuum

Washington -- as the new pathetically lame Wagshal's at Sutton Place demonstrates yet again -- will never sustain first-rate food vendors on any scale, so it's little surprise that a short outing to specialty stores in Bethesda was not particularly uplifting.

First stop, the Women's Cooperative Farm Market, where a chocolate croissant at the French bakery tasted at least a day old and most of the food stalls were closed (great place for the flowers, though).

Then on to Vace, a tried-and-true old-fashioned Italian deli where I could get thinly sliced and delicious prosciutto di Parma, soppressata, and coppa. Vace, I think, has a lesson for would-be specialty vendors. Grow organically, keep a narrow focus, find a cash cow to draw people in (for Vace it's pizza by the slice and partially cooked pizzas).

Next I went to Quartermaine to avoid Starbucks. The cappuccino there can't compare to those in Italy, but has more flavor than Starbucks'. I generally don't like Quartermaine's dark roasts, though I let the salesperson tell me the Guatemala beans were medium roast, though they looked awfully dark to me when I got home.

Over to Capital Tea, a chain that has a lot of fru-fru tea -- flowery, fruity, herbal blends. The breakfast blend black tea I tasted was bland and weak, but I bought 2 ounces of Assam anyway. When I drank it at home, it tasted, well, bland and weak. Unfortunately, Zara Tea, which was much more serious about tea, fell victim to the work being done further up Bethesda and is no more.

I wanted to try Max Brenner's Chocolate House, so I went in there and bought the little sampler of four bon-bons. The problems started when I had trouble finding four different ones that were dark chocolate without fruit or nuts or pralines. The chocolates themselves were undistinguished and definitely tasted machine-made rather than hand-made, a no-no when you're charging $5+ for four. They will no doubt thrive with the hot chocolate menu and we will go back for that when it's cold.

Finally, I caved and bought a bottle of the bulk California olive oil at Secolari. Of the limited bulk choice they had, the Arbequina seemed to me to have the most personality. It's a nice idea, but I don't see how they will survive the high rents in this part of Bethesda. For myself, I totally buy Olio2Go's argument that an oil bottled and sealed in Italy is more reliable than any bulk oil, which has been who knows where and had who knows what added to it. Still, I'm glad they're growing olives and making olive oil in California.