Becoming Five Potbellied Guys

Southern California has In-N-Out, but the D.C. Area has Five Guys.

Northern California has Wichcraft, but the D.C. Area has Potbelly Sandwich Works.

California has Passionate Eater, but the D.C. Area has. . . Well. . . You get my drift. I was trying to analogize, but my brain is farting right now, so I have nothing for you.

When I visited the beau's family in D.C., the beau's brother ("BB" to abbreviate) took me out to two heavily frequented D.C. eateries, to give me a "real" taste of D.C.

First, BB took me to every D.C. native's favorite burger joint, Five Guys. Both he and the beau warned me, that I might fall for Five Guys and forget about my one, true love, In-N-Out.


Although I was hungry, I wasn't "that" hungry, so I ordered a "little cheeseburger" (instead of the regular double cheeseburger) from the menu. Don't let the name fool you, the burger is still big enough for a hearty lunch. And I am not a small eater.

Five Guys gives every diner their choice of a variety of free toppings for each burger, including raw or fried onions, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, sauteed mushrooms, jalapeno or green peppers, and the regular condiments (ketchup, relish, mayonnaise, mustard) and a few odd ones, including relish, A-1, barbecue sauce, and hot sauce. I basically asked for "everything" on my burger. They also have complimentary peanuts you can munch on as you wait for your order.

My burger came wrapped in foil, with its bread bun squished, wrinkly, and slightly perspiring, and thus exhibiting a bit of a brioche sheen. I was impressed by the looks, to say the least. The taste? Greasy, meaty, and burger-licious.

I also ordered the Five Guys style fries, which were coated in a generous dusting of Old Bay. The fries came in an overflowing styrofoam cup, which itself was inside a paper bag. I don't even know why they put a styrofoam cup inside the bag, because they essentially gave me a huge paper bag stuffed full of fries. If I poured the mountain of fries out onto the table and tried to re-cram them inside the cup, I would be direly unsuccessful. The styrofoam cup is basically there just for kicks.

As for the comparison between Five Guys and In-N-Out? Well, sorry. There is no comparison. Even with all of the free toppings (which actually amounts to very little when all placed on a burger's limited surface area) and the juicy, greasy, and "goes down easy" feel of the Five Guys Zagat rated burger, my heart belongs to the one and only In-N-Out. The burger at Five Guys is just a good burger. A burger at In-N-Out is a marvelously splendid and radiant burger that makes you see rainbows and unicorns. However, I will likely rot as a tormented soul in hell for saying this, but the spicy and flavorful fries at Five Guys are infinitely better than In-N-Out's weird, bleached out styrofoam tasting fries. Yes, I am now guilty of blasphemy/heresy/treason/sabotage/slander, but at least I got that off my chest.

For our second D.C. dining destination, BB took me to Potbelly, where I split a tuna and "A Wreck" sandwich, and sampled Potbelly's homemade strawberry and Oreo shakes. "A Wreck" is a great name for a sandwich, which is basically made of salami, roast beef, turkey, ham and swiss. Simply put, it is made of everything. I ordered mine on wheat and asked for hot peppers, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pickles, and a little Italian seasoning.


The toasted sandwiches were quite good, albeit small. The sandwiches were better than Subway and Quizno's, and there was great atmosphere goin' on in the eatery. The restaurant is decorated like a jazzed up antique store, and you can actually listen to live music on certain days. And the creamy brain freeze-inducing shakes? Definitely a worthy competitor of In-N-Out. (Sorry, I now have In-N-Out on my brain.)

Thanks BB, for taking me out, and for all you others out there visiting or living in the D.C. Area, check out Five Guys and Potbelly Sandwich Works for some great inauguration-day food!

Blue Duck Tavern is no Lame Duck

Soon after Christmas, my D.C. friend called me up on a whim and coyly inquired, "Want to take a red eye to D.C. from New Orleans to visit me for New Year's? It's short notice, but I'll take you out to a nice brunch if you visit."

"Sure," was my drenched-in-sarcasm reply.

Before I knew it, I was sprinting across the waxed tile floors of Louis Armstrong Airport, with my slovenly-packed luggage careening behind me.

When I breathlessly arrived in D.C., my friend immediately escorted me to the Blue Duck Tavern, based on a review he read in the Washingtonian. "You're gonna love this place," he said, with a smirk slowly inching upon his sly lips.

"It serves comforting, homey meals, but is consummately pretentious in the D.C. way."

Upon entering the toasty restaurant from the frigidness from outdoors, we stripped off the wool mittens and scarves from our chilly hands and necks. Our flushed cheeks were greeted with an encompassing warmness from the restaurant. In the corner of my eyes, I spied glowing embers and slight flames licking the inside a wood fire oven. I felt at home already.

As we warmed our quivering bodies in the heat of the restaurant, my friend and I decided to start with two categorically non-cold weather appetizers. Both included tuna.

First, we ordered an appetizer of tuna tartare. The tartare was flecked with green chive ringlets and adorned with a diameter of freshly grated pepper running across its symmettrical surface. Most impressively, the gelatinous cubes of the chopped tuna flesh coddled a delicate quail egg, tenuously held together by its yolk membrane.

Every cube of tartare was silken to the bite, and the tartare went perfectly with the hatch-cut potato crisps and the baby greens, which were dressed in a light, lemon-infused olive oil. Unlike my previous experiences with tuna tartare, I couldn't taste any Asian inspiration. I could only discern a trace of lemon zest and the full-bodied fruitiness from the olive oil.

Additionally, we ordered thick-cuts of yellowfin tuna steak, seared until a thin crust of spices had embedded into the tuna's surface. The tuna was served over a Mediterranean salad of chickpeas, sun-dried tomatoes, and feta cheese. Every hypnotic flavor from the salad was powerful, but not overpowering.

The sultry and seductive flavors whipped together creaminess of the chickpeas and feta cheese, the tongue-piercing saltiness of the olives, and the concentrated and potent flavor of sun-dried tomatoes.

As a side to our main dish, we feasted on a cheesy, buttery, and dairy-decadent cauliflower gratin. The firm nibs of the cauliflower were suspended in a thick and cheesy casserole gravy made of rich, whole-fat cream.

For our main entree, we ordered wood fired tavern steak with roasted garlic and shallots. The roasting intensified the beefy flavor in every strand of the meat and accentuated sweet aromas from the shallots and garlic. The roasting brought every element to their flavor climax. My dining companion and I eagerly squeezed the creamy garlic innards out from their papery skins and smeared them into the nooks and pockets of the complimentary crusty bread. The bread served another purpose, to sponge up the mahogany au jus collected inside the metal serving dish.

The Blue Duck Tavern prides itself on cooking traditional America cuisine. If eating at the Blue Duck Tavern is a sign of one's love towards America, then I am one of the most patriotic there is! But if we talk about the Iraq war. . . Well, that is another story.