{"id":1760,"date":"2005-03-31T05:44:00","date_gmt":"2005-03-31T05:44:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/03\/31\/unreasonable-amounts-of-everything-and-pea-soup"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:26","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:26","slug":"unreasonable-amounts-of-everything-and-pea-soup","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/03\/unreasonable-amounts-of-everything-and-pea-soup\/","title":{"rendered":"Unreasonable amounts of everything, and pea soup"},"content":{"rendered":"
When one of your (half-)brothers<\/a> is a restaurateur, paying him a visit means consuming quite a<\/a> bit of<\/a> good food<\/a>. When one of your (half-)brothers is a restaurateur with many reasons to celebrate\u2014a new house, a new restaurant in the works, and an upcoming wedding, for example\u2014paying him a visit means consuming completely unreasonable amounts of fantastic and fantastically rich food all over the Washington, D. C. area, nonstop, for three and a half days<\/strong>. Add to this equation Easter, a holiday synonymous with sugar, and the whole mess is downright obscene. I\u2019m still recovering. Though Veuve Clicquot is fine and Dom Perignon is dandy, at this point I\u2019m very pro-water.<\/p>\n But, as I tripped down this path littered with smoked lobster, pineapple baked Alaska, and cilantro daiquiris, I collected three truths to bring home to you, dear reader, from our nation\u2019s capitol:<\/p>\n 2. My friend Doron\u2019s fashion sense is even better than his meatballs<\/a>, which is saying a lot. On a chilly D.C. Saturday, he was a vision in charcoal gray wool<\/strong>. We nabbed a table by the window at Dupont Circle\u2019s Teaism, and over pots of green tea, a salt-laced oat cookie, and a lemon bar, we quickly bridged the two thousand miles\u2019 worth of distance that separates our daily lives. And then he was off, black hair gleaming and Burberry scarf flying, to counsel a good friend who was preparing a special six-year anniversary dinner for his girlfriend. I’m not the only one who needs an expert meatball maker every now and then.<\/p>\n 3. And speaking of need, every family needs an Italian matriarch<\/strong>\u2014even a Jewish-Catholic-Polish-Irish-English family. My (half-)brother David is doing his best to acquire one for us, and thank goodness. His fianc\u00e9e Car\u00e9e comes with a wealth of excellent attributes, not the least of which is her Italian-American mother Nancy. Months ago, when Nancy and her husband Frank hosted an engagement party for David and Car\u00e9e, my mother called me on her cell phone from the dessert table<\/strong>. The spread was outrageous, she said, from homemade cannolis to cake and back again, not to mention the savories. This Easter Sunday, I got my chance to see Nancy in action, and her cooking, true to legend, was legendary. Not content to settle for the usual ham, she also baked a turkey, which she filled with a moist and rich bread stuffing, and alongside she served baked ziti, her rendition of Pennsylvania Dutch potatoes (creamy mashed potatoes with marjoram and thyme, baked until crispy on top and barely gold), candied yams, corn, cranberry sauce with lemon zest, pan gravy, cole slaw, four types of homemade bread<\/strong>, and asparagus with a light ginger-butter glaze.<\/p>\n As I said, I\u2019m still recovering. And so, after a full day of cross-country flying, I came home to make myself a bowl of pea soup.<\/p>\n<\/a>1. To make a restaurant look sleek, sultry, and very L.A., cover it with yards and yards of white leather. Oya, a brand-new lounge on 9th Avenue, has mastered the concept. There\u2019s white leather everywhere<\/strong>: the chairs, the banquettes, and\u2014in a very questionable move\u2014even the tables<\/em>. One wall near the bar appears to be covered in crimson crocodile, and the bathroom stalls are a blinding, futuristic shade of orange-red, but otherwise, the place is nothing but searing-hot white. My fair skin was tailor-made camouflage; I blended in perfectly with the banquette<\/strong>. And the braised short ribs with vanilla-pear pur\u00e9e was nice too.<\/p>\n
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Dessert brought not only chocolate brownies but also a fresh strawberry pie, a pecan pie, and anguished groans around the table. It was stunningly beautiful. It may have been Easter, but at our table, we said amen for Italian matriarchs.<\/p>\n