Stuff to eat. Mostly around St. Louis.

Spencer 9/22/16 Spencer 9/22/16

Pineapple and Pearls

I try to limit my word count in posts these days, but occasionally, a lengthy piece is warranted. Pineapple & Pearls opened in D.C. earlier this year and is already rocketing into the upper echelon of American restaurants.

Months ago, Pat Noonan, the man behind Pat Likes to Eat and the only food blogger with a six pack, convinced me that that missing out on a meal at Pineapple and Pearls in D.C. would be a huge mistake, even with it’s $250 per person price tag. Pat knows food, and we both loved chef Aaron Silverman’s sister restaurant, Rose’s Luxury, so I figured, “Be like Pat.”

I'm crammed in the shittiest Uber in D.C. with my brother, Logan, and his girlfriend, Kathryn, anxiously wondering what the meal will have in store. None of us have read any reviews. We're going in blind.

We pull up, point and laugh at the plebs waiting hours to eat at Rose's, and make our way through P&P’s matte black door into the bright white, gold, and wood interior—it's classy A.F. Don Draper would fit in here. We check in with the hostess and are presented with welcome drinks: a Kir Royale for me, soju and shiso the other two.

We're taken into the intimate 20-or-so seat dining room and told that, like Catbird Seat in Nashville, we won't be getting menus until the end of meal, so we’ll have no idea what each course will be—aside from peeking at our neighbor's plates.

Drink pairings, gratuity, and tax are included in the price of the meal—L&K went with the alcoholic pairings, but I wanted to see what a non-alcoholic pairing would be like. We toast our prosecco (and my pear cider), then the avalanche of food starts.

Fennel absinthe bonbons hit the table first, an emerald marble resting on an absinthe spoon over some kind of absinthe cocktail—I miss the details because I'm staring at my own reflection in the bonbon. I pop the yogurt-filled bonbon in my mouth and take a drink. We all nod in agreement. Baby Mexican street corn elotes served over a tiny smoker come next. Give me 11 more servings of those and I’ll be good.

And the winner for most beautiful palate cleanser I’ve had at a restaurant is...The oysters and vodka course comes out on a stunning tower that a slob like me doesn’t deserve, with the lower level's faux oyster shells holding pickled oysters with cucumber granita, fennel, and borage flowers, and the upper levels holding shots of vodka, cucumber syrup, and fennel bitters. The last time I ate oysters in D.C., I had the worst food poisoning of my life and I still haven't mentally recovered 100%. Still, I press on with no regrets.

Chef Silverman himself brings out our next course, which appears to be a bamboo box. He turns it outward and unveils three tiers hidden inside, like some kind of Russian matryoshka doll. The bottom tier holds a sour cherry compote, followed by a foie gras mousse with toasted hazelnuts.

At the pinnacle are three small squares of bread, which Silverman downplays as a mix between brioche and a biscuit. I split my biscuit in half and take a bite without any toppings. Oh god. I think I let out a guttural moan or a high pitched squeeee. It's flaky. Moist. Buttery. And even more buttery when I spread the foie gras mousse on. All three of us try to make it last as long as possible. We would all agree this was the best bite of the entire meal.

We're given a few minutes before the entrees commence, which is good, because my food refractory period is in full swing. Plus, I'm terribly depressed the pan au lait is gone.

Silverware at Pineapple and Pearls (1 of 1)

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Before we continue, let me tell you why the non-alcoholic pairings are even better than the traditional ones: the alcohol throughout the meal was primarily wine, with a cocktail and beer thrown in. My drinks were unique and, quite frankly, amazing. The Thai basil and lime soda was like gourmet Sprite; the smoky Arnold Palmer was the first time in my life I could enjoy lapsang souchang tea; the ginger beer in the coconut made me feel like I was at the beach; the peanut milk cherry cola melted my face off. Get the non-alcoholic pairing.

Entrees make their way out, starting with a petite charred Sungold tomato and peach broth bowl, an appropriate ode to the end of summer. The Fairy Tale eggplant caponata tart that follows looks like someone with far more patience than me spent a half hour delicately placing the basil, garlic chive flowers, mint and golden raisins. It's beautiful, and the flavors are balanced. I would happily eat it again—this coming from someone who isn't an eggplant fan.

The next two courses hop from Italy to Thailand. We're brought cardboard boxes, which open to reveal double-fried sweetbread stuffed chicken wings, accompanied by a watermelon hot sauce and a lime fish sauce. It's like the lunchbox you always dreamed your mom would pack you.

Our plates are cleared and a...what the hell is that? Our server sets what looks like something out of Walter White's lab onto the table, and tells us it's a Japanese coffee siphon—the bottom holds a summer red curry broth and the top Thai aromatics. As the pressure builds from the heat, the broth shoots into the top, picks up all those wonderful flavors, then settles back to the bottom. I immediately order a coffee siphon on my phone.

The curry is poured over crispy enoki mushrooms, shrimp, and coconut and the smell is absolutely intoxicating. I want to lift the bowl up to my face and drink every last drop.

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We miscount what course we're on and assume we're moving on to dessert, but no. There's more. The entrees close out with a trip to a D.C. steakhouse: mini-popovers filled with chanterelle mushrooms, a crispy potato terrine, and two slices of meat from a retired dairy cow. I wish I was less full so I could appreciate it more, but the flavors are solid—I make room for as much of the popover as I can.

The parade of desserts kicks off with a blueberry shortcake paired with whipped Brillat-Savarin cheese, a fairly light but immensely satisfying dish. I give the win to the roasted fig crostata, though. Straight out of the oven and into my mouth. The crostata is bursting with end of the season figs, one of my all-time favorite fruits, and paired with a 'sundae bar' made up of toasted coconut, macerated figs, and three flavors of ice cream. It's a decadent, blow-out finish to the meal. Kathryn crushes me and Logan on this dish, finishing off almost every single ice cream herself.

Our guts busting, we've completed our meal. Wait, no, we haven't. Not until we finish off Logan's "freedom from a shitty job" Italian cake and gelato. Not until we polish off the Chartreuse, Campari, Grappa, and Nardini donuts. It's only then that we are allowed to raise the white flag of surrender and roll out of the restaurant.

As we headed towards the front door, the hostess gave us each a bag to take home with breakfast for the next morning: a bottle of iced coffee, shortbread cookies, and a thank you note from chef Silverman.

I had almost given up on high-end tasting menus years ago, after an extremely boring, extremely expensive meal at JAAN Singapore. This meal has brought me back. Truly, the food, the drinks, the service—I won't forget any of it. Silverman and his team know how to make people happy. It's not overly formal, there's no stuffiness that tends to go with high-end dining. The food isn't all foams, gimmicks, and molecular gastronomy. The meal was fun. And for me, that makes it worth the money.

Next time you're in D.C., go for it. Get a table at Pineapple and Pearls and have a meal you won't forget.

Spencer 9/18/14 Spencer 9/18/14

Rose's Luxury

Washington, DC

Who would have thought that trying to get a party of 5 into Bon Appetit's Best New Restaurant 2014, which takes no reservations, at 6 pm on a Friday would be difficult? We knew we'd have to be there early for any chance at all. Three of us arrived around 5:30 and were told that we wouldn't be seated until our other two guests arrived. We were also told that there were two other parties waiting for the same table, meaning whoever's party was complete first would get the table. THE RACE WAS ON.

The rest of our party was stuck in the DC Metro, delayed, so we made our way to the upstairs bar at Rose's and waited for the news. It was like sitting in the waiting room at the hospital's ER. The prognosis was not good. Train delay after train delay. Then the call came. "WE ARE ALMOST THERE!"

Incredibly, we were the first full party, so we got the table, which was at the far back of the restaurant. The whole place has an eclectic but homey vibe, and the back portion almost makes you feel like you're sitting outside with its high ceilings, skylights and strung up lights.

I got some kind of tequila cocktail that came in this trippy mushroom glass. The drink was good, but I cannot remember what was in it aside from some jalapeño.

Biscuits. Hot, delicious, buttermilk biscuits. That caviar looking stuff to the side? That's butter topped with burnt onion powder. It didn't taste burnt or even really like onion, but it was delicious spread on these biscuits. All restaurants should consider replacing their white bread with these. Look, the recipe is even online!

Rose's dishes are, for the most part, small. If you're in a big group, you'll be able to order nearly everything on the menu and still have room for dessert. Our first dish was the [symple_highlight color="blue"]bigeye tuna[/symple_highlight] with freshly grated Matsumoto wasabi. Matsumoto, a city Northwest of Tokyo by a few hours, is famous for it's large wasabi farms, so we were getting the real stuff; no green tinted horseradish at Rose's. This was more of a product feature than a cooking display, but when you have these high caliber ingredients, let 'em shine!

The [symple_highlight color="blue"]Mexican grilled corn salad[/symple_highlight] was the first cooked dish we got and it gave us a good idea about what we were in for. It sounds simple--grilled corn, guajillo pepper, lime and cilantro--but it was done absolutely perfectly. Bringing this to a summertime BBQ would win you friends.

Nothing was more inventive or delicious than the [symple_highlight color="blue"]Pork sausage, habanero, and lychee salad[/symple_highlight]. My brother raved about this from his first visit, and since his food opinions are usually close to mine, I believed him. It doesn't look much like a salad though, does it? The waitress told us to mix it up until it looked gross, which I didn't take a picture of, because it looked gross. It looked like a blind person made an ice cream sundae. Taste-wise was a different story. The pork sausage had some crispy bits and a hint of garlic while the coconut sauce had a bit of a kick from the habaneros. There were bits of red onion, basil, cilantro, mint, and peanuts.

I don't know how Aaron Silverman created this crazy 'salad', but bravo, sir. Eating this made me feel like a judge on Chopped.

lychee salad Rose's Luxury washington dc

A trick was pulled in the [symple_highlight color="blue"]Jerk chicken[/symple_highlight]. We each cut ourselves a piece of the chicken, took a spoonful of the pickled mango raita, then a hunk of the green papaya salad. I bit into the chicken, expecting the spice kick normally associated with jerk chicken, but it never came. The skin was crispy and tasted of the Caribbean, and the meat was incredibly tender, but no heat. Then I took a bite of the papaya salad and got punched right in the tongue with heat.

[symple_highlight color="blue"]Marco's gnocchi[/symple_highlight] was the dish I was least impressed with the whole evening. Sorry, Marco! The description said it had favas, mint and chervil in it, but our whole table agreed that this tasted mostly like your run of the mill mashed potatoes. My brother had the gnocchi his first visit and said it was totally different than this in terms of quality, so I'm just going to assume we got an off batch.

Luckily, the [symple_highlight color="blue"]bucatini[/symple_highlight] with Sungold tomato sauce and parmesan made up for the gnocchi on the pasta front. Simple & tasty. Too bad it had pine nuts in it. They're the worst.

I thought the entire "Other Goods" part of the menu was stellar. We got two orders of the [symple_highlight color="blue"]caramelized cauliflower[/symple_highlight] with Greek yogurt and 'some other stuff'. It may not look so impressive, but it was probably the best cauliflower dish I've ever had. Crunchy, creamy and deeply flavorful.

Prettiest dish of the night goes to the [symple_highlight color="blue"]Portuguese Octopus[/symple_highlight] with burnt lemon puree and fresh herbs. It was art on a plate; it was not just visually impressive, but it tasted fantastic, as well. The octopus was charred and tender. Its mild taste was countered by the bright herbs and indescribable burnt lemon. I guess the chefs at Rose's really like to burn things.

Needing a healthy counterpart to the yet-to-be-shown final dish, we ordered the [symple_highlight color="blue"]honey glazed carrots[/symple_highlight] with mascarpone, matzo meal and dill. These were cooked to perfection, then taken up a notch with a typical Rose's touch. Familiar but still exotic.

The final dish. The reason we couldn't order any desserts. [symple_highlight color="blue"]Smoked brisket[/symple_highlight] with white bread, horseradish and slaw. There was nothing tricky about this dish. No hidden surprises, like a white bread puree or horseradish foam. No, the only surprise was how fantastic this simple dish was. St. Louis has its fair share of great BBQ, all of which have smoked briskets, so I wasn't inclined to order this, but my brother assured me it was worth it. To his credit, he was right again. I would describe the brisket as being lightly smoked in taste but almost buttery in texture.

I wasn't expecting to finish such an imaginative meal with a slice of melt in your mouth brisket drizzled with horseradish over white bread. It reminded me of some of the meals I had in Japan where the simplest courses were the best.

Aaron Silverman and his team at Rose's Luxury are doing something special. The long waits and high accolades show that. The meal bounced between haute cuisine (edible flowers, burnt purees) and classic Southern fare (biscuits, brisket) with such ease and coolness that it takes away the pretentiousness one might expect from the restaurant.

I highly recommend you get to Rose's at 5:30 pm one night and dive into whatever's on the menu that night. I can't wait to get back to DC and see what these guys are up to in a year or so.

Rose's Luxury

717 8th Street SE

Washington, DC 20003

202.580.8889