Metro(poetry)lis

Tonight we dipped into Pasta Mia in Adams Morgan–and if you know anything about this restaurant, it’s not a place people normally “dip” into. The line outside is usually historic and they don’t even open until 6:30 PM on weeknights, so waiting in a line outside the door is de rigueur. I’ve lived around the corner from Pasta Mia for nearly three years and we finally–impulsively–made our way there tonight.

The hostess (who, according to this Washingtonian review was very likely the chef’s wife, Antonietta) nodded us in the direction of a deluxe window seat where we could watch people on the street. The red checkered tablecloths sat upon tiny tables and the wooden chairs completed the rustic Italian scene. The menus arrived and simply stated: cash only, no substitutions, minimum $15.00 per person.

The menu is made for a pre-Adkins era, friends. Pasta, pasta, pasta says the menu. Fussili, gnocchi, fettuccine, capellini, ravioli–an authentic list of handmade pastas. The sauces come in three varieties: cream-based, red sauce with meat or without. There are enormous family style salads (we didn’t try one, but they looked fairly basic) and a bread basket, plus a single dessert (tiramisu) and a hearty wine list if you’re ready to pay $25-$50 for a bottle.

I asked our waiter to tell me about Pasta Mia–he had only been there four months and said there wasn’t much to say. Then I asked the busboy to share anything about the history of the restaurant–same answer. Rough start. Does this mean they will not have food recommendations?

The bread basket appears about 15 minutes into our meal and the busboy pours a little olive oil on to our plate. The sliced bread basket is a sad little thing when compared to amazing loaves I had tried in Florence. The stingy olive oil is disheartening, but I held steadfast–the reason we came here was for pasta.

Ten minutes later the waiter comes to take our order. Recommendations? Tortellini Rose (mix of red/cream sauce) and Spinach Ravioli with red sauce. Done, we’ll take them. Our half carafe of wine arrives and we were both pleasantly surprised by a nice simple red.

About 40 minutes into our visit, the pasta finally arrives. David’s pesto and spinach ravioli is a beautiful, steaming, bold serving (read: bold=enormous). My tortellini arrives in what looks very similar to Velveeta. Also steaming, also bold.

First bites. David’s eyes roll back. A groan from somewhere deep inside emerges. Tortellini is interesting, “Macaroni and cheese on steroids,” says David. The noodles in both cases are perfect. Perfect. Perfection. Word on the street is that the pasta is handmade by the chef–the solo cook in the restaurant.

We eat until we aren’t able to eat anymore, which isn’t very soon into the meal. Those are some big plates. The check comes, ouch. An unexpected nice meal on a weeknight.

We debate on our way out–why is it so good? Why do people, like ourselves, wait in line for their food? The restaurant has a measure of control, their expertise is what’s driving the meal, every dish on the menu is their recommendation. But the control is well, controlling. And it’s because what are our other options? Bucca Di Beppo. La Tomate. Dino. Ah yes, Dino. Next time.

Relevant Reads:

Little Serow review from Borderstan

Last night I had a beautiful dinner with my pal Nikki Rappaport on ScoutMob’s dime. ScoutMob asked a question: if it could be anyone, living or dead, who would you bring to dinner? The winning reply got dinner with food bloggers Lisa Shapiro and Mary Kong and the Scoutmob Team. Before I give you my winning answer, I wonder who you would bring?

The meal was amazing. Cashion’s Eat Place is quickly becoming one of my favorite places in DC. The chef and his team obviously care about a well-presented meal, but the restaurant is still casual enough to come in jeans.

First Course: Path Valley Butternut Squash Soup with Creme Fraiche, paired with Weimer Gewurztraminer (ah-maz-ing. Sad I didn’t get a photo).

Second: Chilled Tuna with a Salad of Local Pears, Yuzu, Fresh Chilies, Daiikon Radish, and Ramari Soy, paired with Adelsheim Pinot Gris.

Third: Wild Kodiak King Salmon Fillet over Organic Pumpkin Risotto with Velvet Pioppini Mushrooms, Baby Pea Shoots and 20-year-old Balsamic Glaze, paired with Colli di Lapio Fiano d’Avellino.

Fourth: New Frontier Bison Strip Loin with Winter Greens, Truffle’d Potato Puree and a Red Wine Bordelaise, paired with Jordan Cabernet Sauvignon.

Fifth: House-made Cannoli with Spiced Hot Chocolate, paired with Vin Santo.

Combine this kind of menu with a lovely waitress and I would call us all very lucky diners indeed.

Oh, and who I would have dinner with? Easy. Ernest Hemingway.

I’ve lent my copy of A Moveable Feast to someone, so thanks to the interwebs for pulling this selection for me:

…I sat down on the bench against the wall with the mirror in back and a table in front and the waiter asked if I wanted beer and I asked for a distingue, the big glass mug that held a liter, and for potato salad.

The beer was very cold and wonderful to drink. The pommes a l’huile were firm and marinated and the olive oil delicious. I ground black pepper over the potatoes and moistened the bread in the olive oil. After the first heavy draft of beer I ate and drank very slowly. When the pommes a l’huile were gone I ordered another serving and a cervelas. This was a sausage like a heavy, wide frankfurter split in two and covered with a special mustard sauce.

I mopped up all the oil and all of the sauce with bread and drank the beer slowly until it began to lose its coldness and then I finished it and ordered a demi and watched it drawn. It seemed colder than the distingue and I drank half of it.

This year, I’m doing this season differently. No presents, a limited holiday card list*. Making an effort to focus on gratitude and experience. What can I learn, what can I give to others before the end of this calendar year? This month I made a commitment to 30 days of yoga. And now I’m making a same commitment to twelve days of blogging.  So friends, here we go.

Tabula Rasa

Holy cow. My inbox is junked like none other. Between tempting Rue La La emails and Mashable updates, my digital life is beginning to feel as cluttered as my closet. The past few days I’ve been making an effort to unsubscribe or limit the communications I need. No, I’m not striving for #inboxzero, but I am hoping to redefine what kinds of information I consume.

So far I’ve eliminated:

• Groupon
• Living Social
• Recoup/Deals for Deeds
• Buy with Me
• Apartment Therapy
• Virginia Wine is for Lovers (sorry)
• Rue La La
• Mashable
• Most bridal emails (The Knot, Dress Rush, Wedding Wire, +++++)
• Broadway.com

And at least ten other communiques that have continued to be trashed without being read or still clutter my inbox (also without being read).

So what stays?

Twitter and Facebook updates, newsletters from non-profit organizations I financially support, blog updates from friends. I’m staying on the DC community listservs because I just love reading about people in my neighborhoods. A handful of stores that I like that often have coupon deals. TED weekly emails. I like to hope that these forms of communications are at the heart of the people and ideas that are meaningful to me.

And what about my time spent browsing? Well, for one, I’m about to give up one of my guiltiest pleasures:

God help me, I love me some celeb news

I think that there are better ways to spend my digital unwind time, for example, reading any one of these fine folk’s blogs.

So, day one. It’s a time to do big things.

*Admit it, you’re sorry you won’t get to see our holiday card this year…

This Thanksgiving I want to make something that is equal to the amount of work the rest of my family members put into holiday food preparation. As I mentioned last year, being a vegetarian is complicated around the holidays. Not only do you have to often (and gently) remind folks that no, you’re not going hungry, and yes, you are more than happy for them to eat the turkey and stuffing, you also have to think ahead to how you can contribute to the meal.

For this vegetarian, no amount of fake meat products can replace the comforting taste of the real thing, so perhaps Thanksgiving is about trying something different altogether instead of trying to replicate a traditional meal.

Photo of Sweet Potato Tort by Vegetarian Times

Last year I made a delicious and tangy curried cranberry sauce and this year I’m thinking of tackling something a little heartier. Vegetarian Times had a great November issue featuring this amazing Sweet Potato Torte, the New York Times dedicated an entire 2010 article and photo spread to a vegetarian Thanksgiving, and I’m a big fan of the Time‘s Pinenut and Squash Pizza as an alternative main course.

Since my mom owns the desserts and my grandma keeps watch over the traditional American sides, why not contribute to the amuse bouche around lunch time? These sweet potato balls look divine and I admit that I keep coming back to the red variation that cranberries give to the table with something like this cranberry truffle recipe from Mark Bittman.

I’m curious friends–before the turkey makes it to the table and you survey the meal landscape, what are your favorite non-meat dishes on the table? Maybe this year I can bring one of your family traditions to our table.