Another One Wit Whiz

This post has absolutely nothing to do with basketball and has no business being on this blog.

Except...

About four and a half years ago I went to Philadelphia to see the Wizards play the Philadelphia 76ers. The morning after the game and before splitting town, we walked down to Pat's King of Steaks for my first ever real true authentic Philly cheesesteak sandwich and it was just incredible. Pat's can, by all accounts and based on my research on the subject, trace its lineage back to the origin of the cheesesteak when they started selling steak and onion sandwiches. There's maybe some debate about when exactly (and even possibly who exactly) added cheese to the sandwich. But steak and Philly? Pat's is it.

Pat's is a dominant force in the cheesesteak culture in Philadelphia. There's only one place that can claim any sort of equivalency to Pat's in that town and that's Geno's, which sits right across from Pat's on the same intersection down at South 9th and East Passyunk. THE debate in Philadelphia about these sandwiches is...Pat's or Geno's? 

Oh, and the cheese debate? Geno's claims they put the cheese in cheesesteak. I guess before Geno's (again, according to Geno's) folks in Philly were just eating steak sandwiches.

When I visited Pat's on that cold March morning of 2014, I wrote that if I ever made it back to Philadelphia, maybe I'd give Geno's a try. Well, this past weekend I made it back. My excuse for being in town? Not really important, but since I mentioned it: an unmissable opportunity to see the Electric Light Orchestra in concert (they skipped D.C.).  Had to be there.

So...I was in Philly and said I'd give Geno's a try if I was ever back in town. Let's go to Geno's!

The line at Geno's. Just like Pat's it's outdoors and pretty darned quick. Cheesesteak coming up quick!

Check out of the hotel at 11 and we are in an Uber at about 11:05 or so headed south with our driver Moises, a guy who by his own account was born and raised in Philly. Moises asked are we from Philly? Umm...no, headed out of town that same day and figured we'd get a cheesesteak on our way home. Next question from Moises...you going to Pat's? No again. Geno's. Moises has been in town 47 years and has never been to Geno's. He has no idea if Pat's is the best steak in town but he knows they are good. As do we from our visit in 2014.

We leave Moises right outside Pat's. Or maybe more accurately, Moises leaves us. A couple of minutes later we are in line outside Geno's waiting for lunch. Pat's is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. So is Geno's. Pat's serves up Philly steaks in a couple of minutes. So does Geno's. Pat's has tables outside near the street. So does Geno's. Pat's has Cheez Whiz on their sandwiches and free cherry peppers for the taking. So does Geno's. So far, so good. Both places have what we need. And for emphasis here, Philly cheesesteaks come with Whiz. You can get other cheeses if you want. But you shouldn't. We get ours with Whiz and sit down.

First impression? The meat isn't chopped the way it is at Pat's. I'm not sure when I unwrap my sandwich if that's good or bad but I know I can see steak hanging out the side of the bread (that's good; I mean after all I ordered a steak sandwich, right?) and it looks cooked, although maybe a touch dry. But I got a sandwich loaded with Whiz, onions and peppers. Let's dig in!

Whether you choose to believe what you are about to read is your choice. Yes, it's been over four years since I'd had my last cheesesteak in Philadelphia but I swear my memory of what I ate back in February of 2014 over at Pat's is pretty spot on.

I say to you now...the chopping of the meat is pretty darned important. Chopping the meat as Pat's does allows the onions and the Cheez Whiz (yes, the Whiz is applied after the meat is in the roll) to mingle and coagulate in the most delicious way. Geno's is missing this synergy for most of their sandwich. Were there times when the steak, grease, onions and Whiz came together in perfect harmony at Geno's? You bet. For sure! There were some amazing bites. But it wasn't like Pat's four years ago. I know this to be true. Consistency is important. And our sandwiches this past Saturday morning were missing that. Don't get me wrong here. If I had only Geno's steaks to eat for the rest of my life, I wouldn't turn them down. But...

Pat's is better.

There you have it. My take on the Pat's or Geno's debate. I'm a Pat's guy. Next time I'm in Philly and I'm looking for a steak and cheese sandwich, I'm headed to Pat's.

My view from Geno's. Staring right at Pat's and the folks gobbling down superior cheesesteaks.

I should note in a twist of I-told-you-so type irony, we chose a table near the corner of Ninth and Passyunk and I sat on the south facing side, meaning I was staring straight at Pat's for my entire meal. Next time, I'll know better.

If you are paying attention and care about the contents of this blog I know I said I wasn't going to blog at all in this thing this summer. This isn't exactly about the Wizards and waiting a couple of months to say I had a cheesesteak in Philadelphia in mid-August just seemed strange. So there you go. See you in September when training camp opens.

The French Dip

One of the things I love to do when I take Wizards road trips is check out the in arena food offerings in the town I'm visiting. I'm forever curious about food and I'm really seeing if the locals can get some regionally inspired dishes while they are sitting in their seats watching live hoops. If you're a frequent reader of this blog you'll know I've first complained about what you couldn't get in terms of local chef-driven fare at Verizon Center and then praised the opening of a José Andrés owned stand earlier this year.

Last week I happened to be in Los Angeles to see the Wizards play not one but two road games. Before the first of these two games vs. the Lakers, I entered Staples Center about as early as I could to check out the food scene there thinking if there was something really good, I'd order it the very next night when the Wizards played the Clippers on the roadie back to back in the exact same building. A quick trip around the lower level and the Premier level concourses yielded some pretty promising local-type fare: a variety of tacos, some churros, a series of California inspired and themed hamburgers and a French dip sandwich.

I'm sure you may be thinking hold up on that last one: a French dip sandwich? The roast beef sandwich on a roll which typically comes with a side of au jus (or drippings from the roasting pan) to dip your sandwich in as you eat? How is that (a) arena friendly and (b) local to Los Angeles? Well, I can't speak to the arena friendly question because honestly it seems like it would be a little difficult to eat a sandwich while balancing a bowl of beef broth on your lap, tray or no tray. But the local thing? Well, that's easy. The French dip sandwich was invented in Los Angeles.

Philippe's The Original at 1001 North Alameda Street.

I don't know what it is about basketball road trips and beef sandwiches but here we are again. Three years ago I visited Philadelphia to see the Wizards play the 76ers and the next morning walked over to the corner of Passyunk and 9th to get myself a Philly cheesesteak at Pat's King of Steaks. Pat's is the place founded by the inventor of the sandwich, although there's a spot across the street, Geno's Steaks, that claims the same thing. Since I knew I'd only have one chance for a sandwich in Philly, I did some research and pretty much convinced myself that Pat's was the inventor and then picked that as my cheesesteak spot.

Funnily enough, there are two spots in Los Angeles that claim they invented the French dip sandwich. The first of these two places is Cole's French Dip, a restaurant on 6th Street in downtown L.A. According to their website, their chef, Jack Garlinghouse, invented the sandwich as it is today when he dipped a sandwich in au jus to soften it up a little for a customer with sore gums. According to Cole's, that happened in 1908, the same year the restaurant opened. They are silent on where the French came from but one could reasonably infer it's from the French roll the sandwich comes on.

The second contender for inventor of the French dip is Philippe's The Original, a spot north of the 101 on the east edge of Chinatown. Like Cole's, Philippe's has also been open since 1908. Their invention story on their website happens in 1918, which I find interesting and bold, considering most food invention rivalries usually claim a fairly similar timeline for who came first. According to Philippe's, their invention was an accident. Their chef accidentally dropped a French roll in some au jus when preparing a sandwich for a policeman customer, who said he'd take it as is anyway. Apparently he liked it so much that the next day he came back for another along with several friends. Philippe's has three stories to back up the French name on the dish: either it was the French roll or the fact that Philippe Mathieu who owned the place was French or the customer's name was French. We should pick I guess.

If you ask me, both stories are fishy. And since I was going to be in downtown Los Angeles for work for a whole week, I thought rather than researching which place is telling the truth, I just figured I'd go to each spot and find out which one I liked more. So I did.

The interior of Philippe's.

I arrived in Los Angeles Sunday afternoon, checked in to my hotel and hailed a cab to take me to Philippe's. I picked this place first for one simple reason: they are open on Sunday and Cole's ain't. After a quick ride, I arrived at 1001 North Alameda Street on the edge of Chinatown. What I found inside was a deli-like counter with six or seven servers furiously taking orders and a series of three to seven deep lines with hungry customers. This was at 4:40 on a Sunday afternoon. Not exactly lunch or dinner time and the place was packed. And churning through customers as it turned out. I wasn't waiting in line more than about 10 minutes.

You can get an array of dipped sandwiches at Philippe's and you can get it with options. There are pork, ham, lamb, pastrami and turkey dip sandwiches as well as the traditional roast beef and their sandwiches come on white, wheat, sourdough, rye or a French roll and they can be ordered with a variety of cheese. I ordered mine as I would typically think of a French dip sandwich: a beef dip on French roll, no cheese. I also picked up some pickles and a side of potato salad. And a beer. An Indie Blond made by Indie Brewing located right in Los Angeles. A few minutes later, I had my Sunday dinner.

Apparently the thing at Philippe's is to eat your sandwich with some of their hot mustard ("It's hot, but good." according to their website). I'd never heard of eating a French dip with mustard but I've also never claimed to be a connoisseur of this particular sandwich. I applied a healthy squeeze from the bottle located on every communal table and hoped for the best.

Philippe's The Original Beef Dip, with side of potato salad and some pickles.

The meat at Philippe's was pretty much right on as what I think about when I order a French dip sandwich: fall apart tender roasted beef, although I could claim that I like my roast beef a little pinker. I also liked the roll which I found soft and not in need of the accidental or purposeful drenching in the au jus like in Philippe's origin story (you can get your rolls dipped a variety of ways at Philippe's; I opted for it undipped). I also appreciated the finely chopped potato and the slightly sweet mayonnaise mixture (from sweet pickle juice maybe?) in my side order. I'd go lighter or not at all with the mustard next time though.

It was only when I sat down that I realized one thing was missing: the au jus. Apparently, the sandwiches don't come with it at Philippe's; you have to order it separately. Now as a general rule here, I expect when I order a French dip sandwich, that it will come with some pan juice for me to dunk my sandwich in. This to me was a major faux pas. I did not go back and stand in line. I ate my sandwich and it was a good one. I'm just not sure I'm putting Philippe's on my top 10 sandwich list. I don't have one, for the record.

Cole's on Sixth Street in downtown Los Angeles.

Four days and two basketball games later, I made my way over to Cole's for my second French dip of the week. Yes, I passed on the French dip at Staples.

I liked the atmosphere at Philippe's. It seems informal, family oriented and almost college-like and the service was quick. It's high quality fast food, if you will. Cole's is a 180 from Philippe's in terms of the venue. And I was hooked immediately.

I love dark old bars. The older and darker without being dank, the better. And Cole's, at its very heart, is an ultimate dark old bar. What can I say about this place? First of all, it's partially underground, which in the qualities of bars I love adds value. Sixth Street slopes down from the west to east; Cole's, which is located mid-block, seems to have its floor at sidewalk level at the east side of the block. It's also, depending on your perspective, poorly lit or just above ambiently lit (I prefer the latter). Where clear glazing could admit light, there's stained glass. Where bare bulbs or white shades could be used on the artificial light, there are amber frosted globes.

The bar itself is fantastic. High, wooden and dark stained and well constructed to absorb the kind of use a bar over 100 years gets after that much time. And by the scratches and chips in the top rail of the bar, this place has seen some good times and some late nights. This is just the kind of bar I want to sit at and drink good beer and other spirits slowly for hours. 

Cole's French dip sandwich with bacon potato salad.

One more thing before we get to the food. When I first sat down at the bar, the sound system was playing Jimmy Ruffn's "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted?", which has to be one of my all-time favorite non-Temptations Motown songs. That started a torrent of great mid to late 1960's songs: the Who's "I Can't Explain", the Hollies' "Look Through Any Window", the Association's "Along Comes Mary" and The Animals' "It's My Life". If there was not enough reason to sit at Cole's all night, I found one in the music.

So let's get to the food. Cole's offers a similar range of dip sandwiches as Philippe's. To maintain an even playing field, I ordered the exact same thing I ordered over there the first night I was in town. Sort of. I didn't order pickles because the sandwich came with one spear and I got a cup of au jus, because French dip sandwiches are supposed to come with au jus and Cole's serves them that way. I also couldn't replicate the beer because they didn't have a blond on tap. I went with Lost Coast's Alley Cat Amber instead.

Cole's sandwich was better. It just was. Maybe it was because they claim to have invented it first. Maybe it was the au jus, which I finished all of one dip at a time by soaking it up in that soft almost cake-y French roll. Maybe it was the slightly thinner and slightly pinker roast beef which in my opinion had a little more juiciness to it.

I would not get the potato salad again at Cole's which I found too dry and maybe a little undercooked. They use bacon in their potato salad and I can't believe I'm writing I'd choose a dish without bacon over one with bacon but it is what it is. I would definitely get the pickles again, which are marinated in some kind of chile flake vinegar; in fact, I did. Cole's sandwiches come with a single spear; I ordered extra which turned out to be five more spears. The acid and the heat cut the richness of the sandwich well.

I still don't know which place invented the French dip sandwich, but I know where I'd rather go next time I'm in Los Angeles. Cole's has got to be one of the two best bars I've visited for the first time in the last year (along with Canton, Ohio's Conestoga Grill which was similarly dark as Cole's) in terms of what I love in a bar. I'd take a second shot at Cole's food, probably another French dip beef sandwich with some spicy tater tots. And I'd linger at the bar a lot longer than I did this time and listen to more of that great music they play over there. I don't care who came up with it first, Cole's would be my choice for the Los Angeles French dip.

The Bobblehead Bar

This past weekend I took a couple of days off work and headed out on the road for my almost annual NBDL trip, an effort to get me into smaller-than-the-NBA time pro basketball and some parts of the United States I wouldn't ordinarily get to. Before I arrived in Canton, Ohio or Erie, Pennsylvania, I spent a night in Cleveland. This is the second of two posts about that city before we get to some words about the D-League. For my minor rant on how I feel about Cleveland, read the last post.

In 2011, my friends Mike and Bryan and I hopped in a car and drove across America. It's a trip most people do right after they graduate from college. I waited until I was 43. Better late than never I guess. We took the northern route which ran us roughly out to St. Louis; then straight north to South Dakota; then pretty much westward through Deadwood, Yellowstone and the Bitterroot Mountains to Seattle. I recommend everyone take a major road trip in the U.S. at least once in their lifetime. It was incredible to see the country that way.

If you know me at all, you'd suspect we stopped at a lot of bars and breweries on that trip. And you'd be right, of course. The Old Point Tavern in Indianapolis; the Anheuser-Busch Brewery in St. Louis (total American pilgrimage); our hotel bar at Yellowstone National Park (where we drank the amazing and awesomely named Moose Drool); Pike Place Brewery in Seattle; and countless (OK, so maybe four or five) breweries in Portland, Oregon. But the best bar on the trip hands down was in Cleveland.

When assembling a list of bars to visit in Cleveland I used a very scientific evaluation criteria: wherever people burned LeBron James jerseys the previous summer after LeBron announced he'd be taking his talents to South Beach. That meant two places: Harry Buffalo and The Winking Lizard Tavern. We hit up both while we were in town and found the former to be way too deserted on a non-Indians summer game night and the latter to be too big and sprawling, likely because of its elongated triangular floor plan. Neither of these turned out to be the best bar of that trip. And I didn't visit either last weekend.

The best bar in Cleveland (and in the entire country that summer of '11) for me turned out to be City Tap, which is located right next door to The Winking Lizard. We stopped in there after a disappointing drink or maybe two (the memory is fuzzy after five plus years) at the Lizard next door and I instantly fell in love.

I know, you are dying to know why it was the best. Was it the incredible tap list? Nope, although their range of draft beers is impressive. How about the featured Thirsty Dog brews from nearby Akron? No, not that either. The Carling Black Label in cans? Uh uh, although I love me some Black Label. Surely, it wasn't the UV Cake / Pinnacle Chocolate Whipped vodka shot, right? It wasn't, although just try it sometime and tell me it's not really good. 

No, the reason I fell in love with City Tap is because they have the most incredible bobblehead display I've ever seen in a bar anywhere.

City Tap's beer board. Tell me you've heard of all these breweries. I dare you.

OK so maybe I ought to qualify that last sentence. First of all, the subject matter (all Cleveland and Ohio State) is deplorable to this Wizards fan and Michigan grad but I guess you can't expect anything more considering the location. But if you can overcome that and appreciate the prominent way these things are displayed front and center among the liquor bottles backlit in multiple colors, I would go there about every night until I got sick of the place, which I may never do.

We rolled into Cleveland last Thursday at about 3:30 pm. 30 minutes later we were at the City Tap bar working our way through the beer list. I started with a Thirsty Dog 12 Dogs of Christmas Ale, just because I'm  a fan of the brewery after that one night there five years ago. We sat about where we sat last time we were in town towards the north entrance near the hoop bobbles and away from the Indians bobbleheads on the south side. Since we'd been here last, they actually expanded their collection, moving a good number of the Ohio State football bobbleheads to a new display case nearer the north entrance. This kind of dedication to bobblehead collections is impressive, even if the likes of Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love caused the expansion.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, it should come as no surprise that bobbleheads occupy a significant spot in my Wizards fandom world and I'm all in favor of showcasing any bar that goes to the lengths that City Tap goes to demonstrate a commitment to poorly painted overseas manufactured bobblehead replicas of athletes that may or may not resemble the actual athlete. I'm proud to call this place my bar when I'm in Cleveland which is not likely to be very often.

As of last Friday (or likely way before that to be honest but I just became aware of it last week), City Tap is no longer stocking Carling Black Label. That sucks, honestly. Every bar needs a cheap local (Canada) brew to keep folks like me going after guzzling a few pints of the stronger stuff. And no more cake flavored vodka either. Don't let either of those things keep you from going to this place.

Finally (and of course) there's a Wizards connection here. Look on the fifth shelf up in the basketball section and two spots from the left end you'll find former Wizard Larry Hughes, who helped take the Wiz to the second round of the playoffs in 2004 before defecting to the Cavs. I never thought Boogie should have bolted town for Cleveland but they were offering more money so I guess you take what you can get in life. Larry's not waving; I assume he's playing some D.

Save me a bar stool next time I'm in Cleveland. Until then...go Wizards.

Larry Hughes in Cavaliers hell. Shoulda stayed in D.C., Larry. You and Gil could have done good things.

Dinner At Jean-Georges

All-Star Weekend in New York a couple of weekends ago was totally decadent. I got VIP treatment, was handed tickets to All-Star Saturday Night and the All-Star Game with $500 and $750 face values and got to meet and talk with NBA legends one on one. It was truly a self indulgent weekend for a true NBA obsessed fan. Summer League is never going to be the same again.

While I was in New York, I planned a couple of special meals in restaurants owned by superstar chefs. After all, I'm not just star struck by NBA players and I love to eat. Thursday night we headed over to David Burke's fabrick on West 38th Street and followed that up with a trip to Chris Santos' Stanton Social for brunch Sunday morning on the lower east side of Manhattan. I'd give fabrick another shot but I'd definitely go back to Stanton Social. Get the gyros and the Oreo cookie pancakes.

But if you had told me before the weekend was up I would be eating at a Jean-George Vongerichten restaurant, I would have told you that you were crazy or something really out of control was going on. Rest assured, that's just what happened and I'm as astonished now as I was when I ate my first Jean-Georges food in the middle of last month.

So what, you say? Who the hell is Jean-Georges Vongerichten? Well, he's only one of the most accomplished and well regarded chefs in the world today. The last couple of years when I have made plans for Summer League in Las Vegas I've thought about heading to his restaurant, Jean-Georges Steakhouse, at the Aria hotel but despite the allure and the fantastic reviews, the $125 prix fixe price tag always turns me off (no tip, tax or alcohol included in that price and yes, it's per person). His restaurant at 1 Central Park West in New York is similarly pricey, adding another $3 to the cost of a three dish menu.

But sure enough, Sunday night before the All-Star Game at Madison Square Garden, I had my first Jean-Georges food and it cost me about $20. And that's with tip, tax and alcohol included. How, you ask? I mean honestly if you have to ask you probably are not looking at the pictures on this post, which I am sure is the first thing most people do. As it turns out there are two Jean-Georges restaurants (food stands, if you prefer) in the Garden in the form of Jean-Georges Simply Tacos and Jean-Georges Simply Chicken. I had to partake.

Being a Latin food lover, I opted for the beef short rib tacos from the Simply Tacos stand and washed the whole thing down with an overpriced (hey, it's New York) Budweiser, which last time I checked is still the king of beers for those of you doubting Bud's ability to stimulate your taste buds, no pun intended. I loved the crispy onions, the sauce on the tacos and the lime wedge that came with the dish but the short ribs…well, maybe a little more love would have been appreciated.

The fact that my tacos were not the best I'd ever had is not really the point, nor is the celebrity chef worshipping part of me that has checked off one more dude's restaurants on my ever expanding list of must tries. The point here is that Madison Square Garden has engaged this level of chef to create food stands in their building and I love that. Maybe I ordered the wrong tacos. Maybe I should have headed to Simply Chicken or one of the other thoughtful food stands that the Garden has put in place. I don't know and it really doesn't matter.

Over the last 15 years, I've often entered Verizon Center for a Wizards game hungry and have found little to really satisfy me. I acknowledge some of the recent additions to the food choices over at 601 F Street but honestly, I'm looking for alternatives outside the arena. The Hard Times food is OK inside the arena, the Greene Turtle booth is a must miss and as much as I want to love the bratwurst over on the east end of the lower concourse, the cheese sauce you get is totally tasteless. I'd love to see my home team's arena do what the Garden did. Take it under advisement Verizon Center, please. Maybe they should call Jean-Georges or maybe someone local like Jose Andres. I'd buy some stuff if they did.

Daikaya Izakaya

It's November 1, the first day of the Wizards home slate for the 2014-2015 season. Thank God! I've been struggling the last three months with hoops withdrawal. There's only so much that the schedule release, making travel plans for road games and training camp can hold me over. The three preseason games offered a brief respite but now the season's here for real I'm going to think that all is right with the world again. And now that the season's starting (and the Wizards have actually won a game already), I can start thinking about food again. That's right, food.

One of the best parts of going to games (especially given the Wizards' win-loss history) is sampling cuisine at the innumerable restaurants around Verizon Center. Last fall, I wrote a blog post about my three favorite Penn Quarter food spots. Since I wrote that post, I've been to two of those places (Graffiato and Luke's Lobster) a combined one time. I know, I'm not really living up to what I'm writing. Some of that was the Wizards' fault; they allowed savvy fans like me to cash in Monumental Rewards points at an insanely low price for access to free food and drinks via VIP tickets which resulted in me eating at VC a lot during the season. The main reason that I shied away from those two places, though, was simpler. I found somewhere better: Daikaya Izakaya.

Daikaya Izakaya is located on the east side of Verizon Center, which for those of us who are Orange-liners is the far side. My natural tendency for years was not to explore restaurants on that side of the arena because (a) I'm sort of lazy and just naturally wouldn't go over there and (b) there was pretty much nothing except Burger King over there. Now I love Burger King, but it's not worth walking around the building most days. But lately the re-development around Verizon Center has stretched east towards Judiciary Square and there's some good stuff on the other side including what has become hands down my favorite restaurant in that part of town.

Daikaya Izakaya is, as one might think from the name, a Japanese place. The name of the restaurant is actually Daikaya. Izakaya refers to the format of the experience and traditionally meant a drinking establishment (specifically sake) which also offered customers the ability to stay and drink and eat. Today, the word izakaya most often refers  in the United States to a restaurant that serves small plates which are ordered throughout the meal; brought to the table when ready; and then shared. Think tapas, but Japanese style.

Daikaya is located at 705 6th Street NW. The restaurant has two parts: a ramen place downstairs and the izakaya place on the second floor. I've never been to the ramen part of the restaurant. The upstairs suits me so well that I'm not sure I'm ever going to visit. Entering the izakaya restaurant involves ascending a steep set of stairs to a room that is really not particularly large. There is a small bar to the immediate right with seemingly mismatched bar stools (there are actually just three different types I believe) which dominates the place despite its relatively modest size. The tables in the restaurant fill out the space on either side of the bar toward and away from the street.

If I were to create my ideal restaurant, it would have a bar as the front and center element of the design, serve really good food and beer and be dark-ish without being dank. Daikaya checks all these boxes off perfectly. The place has some light from the street windows on 6th Street and a little more from a skylight over the bar but the supplemental lighting that might really make the place bright is just not there. Instead, they have preferred to use sparse wall sconces and a series of hanging low-light-emitting Japanese paper lantern type fixtures that border on the kitschy. There's plenty of wood in the bar which helps absorb the light and makes you feel like the place has been just that way for ages.

Daikaya of course serves a variety of sake. But I like to drink beer when I'm sitting in a dark bar and they offer a well put together variety, stocking some of the standard Japanese beers  (Sapporo is $3 during happy hour!) but mixing in some lesser known local brews, including some Three Stars beer, a keg-only microbrew in D.C. that offers some interesting flavor combinations (go over there one weekend for an inspiring tour) and which is not that easy to find. Three Stars is now brewing a custom saison beer made with sansho peppers and yuzu peel specially for Daikaya which I think is just awesome. I checked the menu while writing this post and they are currently featuring two Maryland beers that I have never even heard of in addition to the Three Stars product. Any place serving local beers I've never heard of is alright with me.

But a restaurant isn't memorable without it's food and despite all the positive atmosphere and great beer, the place wouldn't be worth anything if its food wasn't memorable. And Daikaya's is. Usually when I like a restaurant, I find one dish that I really love and I keep ordering that again and again. Daikaya isn't like that. There are so many good things on their menu that it's actually difficult to order. Every time I look over the offerings, I want six or seven or eight dishes not including some of the specials, which are often the best part of the meal.

Enoki mushrooms in the foreground, chicken skin (left) and thigh (right) skewers towards the back.

Fortunately, the izakaya are bite sized and with small prices (unlike some other small plates places around VC - think Jaleo) so eating a great variety is possible on every trip. It's difficult for me to articulate what is best but the seared enoki mushroom, smashed pee wee potatoes and beef tenderloin skewers are must haves on every trip. I know the price of the enoki mushrooms seems high at $9 but it's totally worth it. Get it. Trust me. If you need to compensate by getting something cheaper as well, get some of the cheaper skewers like the chicken thighs ($3) or the really cheap chicken skin ($2) which was marinated in something incredibly delicious last time I was there.

I think if I were forced to eat at Daikaya before every Wizards game I'd be OK. I don't think I'd ever get bored. I've been there eight or ten times in the last year or so and I've only gone through about half the menu. I'm sure the novelty will wear off eventually but it's showing no signs of doing so. I'm heading there tonight of course and I'm hoping they have the dynamite wings on the specials menu because they are absolutely, well, dynamite. 5:45 tonight so I can be in seats for the home opener 75 minutes later. Can't wait. This is a good time of year.

One Wit Whiz

So it's Sunday morning and I'm in Philadelphia about 10 or 11 hours after a great Wizards win over the home 76ers; I've watched Allen Iverson's jersey get hung in the rafters of the Wells Fargo Center at halftime of that same game; and I spent the previous day visiting iconic sights in the first capital city of the United States. Sounds like a full and complete weekend, right? Nothing more to take in before my early train back to D.C., right? Wrong! I couldn't leave Philly without a cheesesteak. It just wouldn't be right. So immediately after checking out of my hotel, I made my way over to the south side to get me one of Philadelphia's original and best contributions to the culinary world. And if it's Philly and cheesesteaks, it has to be Pat's King of Steaks.

According to a combination of fact and folklore, the cheesesteak sandwich as it is known today was invented by Pat Olivieri in Philadelphia sometime in early 1930. There seems to be some debate about exactly how the sandwich was first conceived but there seems to be no debate that Olivieri was the creator. Most stories have Pat owning a hot dog stand with his brother Harry when one day Pat decided to make himself a steak and onion sandwich on an Italian roll (no cheese yet; that comes later). A cab driver apparently smelled the sandwich, asked Pat to make him one and the next day the steak and onion sandwich went viral among cab drivers in Philly and the rest is history. I'm sure they used a term other than "went viral" in the '30s but whatever.

From those humble beginnings, Pat opened his legendary restaurant, Pat's King of Steaks, which now stands at 1237 East Passyunk Avenue and has been owned and operated by the Olivieri family for over 80 years. Who first added cheese to the steak and onion sandwich and just when that happened seems to be less clear, although the Olivieris claiming that one of their chefs added provolone cheese to their sandwiches in the 1940s seems to be the most plausible.

Today, Pat's is big business, managing to stay open 24 hours per day, seven days a week chopping steak and pushing out cheesesteaks with or without onions and slathered in provolone, American cheese or Cheez Whiz. Its only real competition sits right across the street at 1219 South 9th Street: Geno's Steaks. Geno's was opened by Joe Vento in 1966 and, like Pat's, has been family owned and operated since its first day of business and is also open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Each place claims its cheesesteaks are the best in Philadelphia. The decision to make for the novice cheesesteak eater when visiting Philly is: Pat's or Geno's. Since Pat's is the original, I opted for their cheesesteak this time around. I'm a sucker for the genuine article.

Before I got to lunch, the walk from the hotel to Pat's alone was an experience: down Broad Street past vacant lots, left on Washington past Vietnam-town (is that the correct term?) and finally right onto the 9th Street barrio featuring plenty of colorful stores, including a live poultry market where you can get your bird of choice custom killed and I imagine plucked on the spot for you. I'm making it sound way sketchier than it really was. It was fine, although the smell coming out of the live poultry market was almost enough to put me off my cheesesteak. Almost.

After a mile and a half on foot, I was good and ready for some food and Pat's did not disappoint. I opted for a simple cheesesteak (no peppers or mushrooms for me) wit (south Philadelphia for "with") onions and Cheez Whiz. The time from ordering to receiving a hot sandwich was literally about 15 seconds. I'm not kidding. The meat wit onions was spatula-ed into a fresh warm roll and then the Cheez Whiz stick was pulled out of the Whiz tub and scraped across the top to complete my order. Fries and a water at the next window and a couple (OK, three) of hot cherry peppers on the side from the condiments bar opposite the ordering windows.

The only seating options are outside so I took what I could get despite the less than 40 degree temperature Sunday morning and ate. Pat's knows what they are doing. The meat was tender, the roll was fresh and the Cheez Whiz made it all come together. There's something so stereotypically and classically cheesy about the taste of fake cheese even though it really doesn't taste anything like any sort of real cheese at all. It's delicious. The only thing that made the experience even better was the two guys talking to the pickup driver next to us about how to avoid getting stopped by the cops on the highway in a broad Philadelphia dialect of English, if you can call it that.

Pat's was worth the trip for me. Everything about the whole morning had an authenticity to it that cannot be obtained by getting a cheesesteak from a sandwich shop in D.C., which I have done on many occasions. Maybe on my next trip to Philly, I'll check out Geno's. Although I honestly can't imagine it being any better.

Pizza, Lobster, Oatmeal Stout

The menu at Luke's Lobster.

I have spent almost a decade and a half being a Washington Wizards season ticket holder and as of today, the start of the 2013-2014 NBA season is only two weeks away. As a loyal season ticket holder from October to April (and sometimes, God willing, May) over the last 13 years I have spent a lot of time in Penn Quarter in downtown D.C. before, during and after basketball games. In addition to watching a ton of hoops, I've also needed a lot of liquid and solid sustenance, meaning I've scoured the blocks around Verizon Center for the odd meal or two and a few pints over the last baker's dozen years.

Since I made the commitment in 2000 to becoming a Wizards season ticket holder, I've had more pre- and post-game meals than I care to make a note of at all sorts of places, from countless 99 cent McDonald's double cheeseburgers to noontime lunches at the now closed China Doll (my dad and I used to go there because Red Auerbach used to eat there weekly) to excellent grilled cheese sandwiches at the also-closed Zola to multiple multiple small plates at each of Jose Andres' restaurants. Over the years, I've developed favorites, whether they be whole menus at awesome spots or finding one shining dish that I can't stop going back for at an otherwise unremarkable establishment.

The two home Wizards preseason games of the 2013-2014 NBA season are now in the books, so I've once again been thrust into what is inevitably an exciting culinary melting pot. It's always interesting to get back to this area and see what has cropped up after almost six months away. So to help fellow Wizards fans (or Caps) fans or just the casual visitor to Penn Quarter, I thought I'd put down some thoughts on three places I really love eating around Verizon Center. Two of these places are recent discoveries and I'm very much hooked; the other is a spot I've been visiting since before I became a Wizards season ticket holder.

Two final notes before I start. First, there is a Chipotle on the 8th Street side of Verizon Center. I never eat at this Chipotle because the lines are just way too long and there's one a block from where I live, but Chipotle is one of my absolute favorite places to eat. I would never recommend against eating here. Second, of all the Jose Andres restaurants around Verizon Center, my favorite is gone. If Jose ever reads this, please please please please bring back Cafe Atlantico.

OK, that's enough about what's not here. Let's get to the food.

Graffiato, 707 6th Street NW (across the street to the east from Verizon Center)

I can remember a time I didn't love pizza, but only just barely. If I thought it was healthy, I'd eat pizza every day as my one and only food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Unfortunately, I know better and my cholesterol level won't let me talk myself out of it.

I think my first memory of loving pizza was eating what I am fairly sure was terrible pizza at Pizzaland restaurants in my home country of England in the 1970s. My parents used to take my sister and me shopping on Saturdays to Leicester or Nottingham and sometimes I was rewarded with a stop at Pizzaland where I always ordered the chicken pizza (a whole pie by the way). I always ate it with a knife and fork and I'm fairly certain it was unsliced. Since then, I have had a list of amazing pizza (to me) touchstones throughout my life wherever I have lived: Papa Gino's and Mystic Pizza in Connecticut; Cottage Inn and The Brown Jug in Ann Arbor, MI; Bonzai Pizza (chicken and feta) and Varsity (vegetable pizza with carrots, cauliflower and lima beans) in Syracuse, NY; and Pizza Boli's and Liberty Tavern in northern Virginia. Last year, I added Graffiato to that list.

Papa Smurf 2.0 on top; Jersey Shore on the bottom.

I first visited Graffiato because I had watched chef Mike Isabella compete on Bravo's Top Chef and Top Chef All-Stars, liked what he cooked and was excited when he went out on his own. I think my first trip to his 6th Street spot was just before the 2012-13 NBA season where I ate his Italian interpretation of tapas and came away not super eager to go back based on the food. But on that first trip, I sat at the bar downstairs and while I waited for my food I watched pizzas being cooked in the 900 degree plus oven behind the bar; they looked delicious. So I figured it was probably worth another shot for the pizza alone. Great thought on my part.

Since that first trip about a year ago, I think I've eaten at Graffiato a dozen times. I've had pizza on every one of those trips and I've loved them all. I love the regularly featured Jersey Shore, which combines fried calamari and cherry pepper aioli with tomatoes and provolone on Isabella's incredibly light and crispy-chewy at the same time crust. I also love the Shark Bait (shrimp and pesto) and the Goodfellas and Porky's Revenge, although I'm looking for someone to split these last two with due to the grease factor.

But perhaps the best part about Graffiato's pies are the pizzas which you wouldn't ordinarily think of ordering. I've never ordered pizza with kale on it except at Graffiato and it was amazing with the blue cheese agrodolce. But the pizza which made me a believer more than anything else was the cheese-less Classic pizza which is nothing more than cherry tomatoes, garlic and oregano on bread. Look, there are people out there who are lactose intolerant and can't eat cheese, right? But this pizza doesn't need it. It is so incredibly good, tangy and sweet at the same time that honestly, you don't need the cheese. Go to Graffiato and get the pizza. Trust me. you won't be disappointed.

Luke's Lobster, 624 E Street NW (one block south of Verizon Center)

Let me write two things before I get to my adoration of Luke's Lobster. First, I do not understand why people think lobster is so great. I mean, it's tasty shellfish, but for the money, I don't get it. I'd rather have crab or shrimp than lobster any day and keep the couple of bucks I've saved in the process. Second, I am almost completely anti-New England which I am sure is a product of growing up in the hotbed of the American Revolution as a recent immigrant from England. I don't like Cape Cod or Boston or lighthouses or beaches or quaint fishing villages or the Boston Celtics or the New England Patriots or Maine lobster. I'm just anti-all of it.

Having written all that, I love Luke's Lobster. I first ate a Luke's in Georgetown just before the holidays last year while searching desperately for a Christmas present for my sister who doesn't need anything at all. I'd heard good things about Luke's and thought I'd stop in for some lunch while not buying anything. Because I am not a lobster guy (see previous paragraph), I ordered the shrimp roll. Luke's shrimp roll is a cold buttered simply salted and peppered oh-so-sweet bay shrimp salad stuffed into and overflowing a warm buttered New England hot dog roll (split on the top rather than the side, for those of you not in the know). It's full of shrimp and is so satisfying yet it leaves me wishing I could eat these things all night.

Totally New England: Shrimp roll, Cape Cod salt and vinegar potato chips and Shipyard beer.

Shortly after my visit to Luke's in Georgetown, I found out they had opened another store just one block south of Verizon Center. This discovery has instantly made Luke's my quick low cost but still amazingly delicious food option before Wizards games.  A shrimp roll with chips and a beer is a mere $13. Try beating that deal in Penn Quarter. And it's served fast, hot/cold and friendly.  And we're not talking Lay's and a Miller Lite on the side here. No New England sandwich is complete without Cape Cod potato chips and I can't think of a better beer to serve with a shrimp (or lobster) roll than a Shipyard ale from Portland, Maine. For all my ranting about things New England that I dislike, there is no better potato chip brand than Cape Cod chips. No way, no how. If you are in a hurry before a game, go to Luke's. Heck, even if you are not in a hurry, go to Luke's anyway. There is no way you will be anything but satisfied.

A quick disclaimer about lobster: while I don't love it, my girlfriend does and she loves Luke's lobster rolls. I've had them and prefer the shrimp rolls but she swears the lobster rolls are good. Take her word for this not mine. She knows what she is talking about here way more than I do.

District Chophouse and Brewery, 509 7th Street NW (half a block south of Verizon Center)

A year and a half ago, I hadn't yet eaten at Graffiato or Luke's Lobster. I can't say the same about the District Chophouse and Brewery which is the third and final place around VC to get some grub that I will gush over in this post. When I first moved to the Washington, D.C. area in late 1999, my idea of incredible food was any place that brewed their own beer or served a great variety of beer on tap. So it's understandable to me that I would find the Chophouse on one of my first trips downtown to watch some Wizards hoops. And while my palate has evolved and I no longer drool over every dish on the menu, I've been eating and drinking here ever since so it must be good on some level. And it is.

I'll be honest, what first drew me to the Chophouse was the beer and what I interpreted as the upscale American comfort food they served in their dining room. It was a steakhouse without the ridiculous prices. Don't get me wrong, I think there are some good entrees on their menu but I think I've outgrown the slabs of meat with sides of mashed potatoes that make up pretty much every main dish. Over the years, I've migrated away from the entree portion of their menu and onto the starters section. And as with every restaurant that I have been eating at for years, I lament what's no longer available. They used  to serve a killer vegetable, olive and goat cheese flatbread that I loved to get after a Wizards game but there's still enough good stuff served here to draw me in four or five times a year or more.

When I look over the Chophouse's current menu, I am always tempted by the New Orleans style barbeque shrimp (although it's sometimes a bit salty) and the calamari. The shrimp is a true cajun barbeque dish served over a generous piece of garlic bread and smothered in delicious beer butter sauce. The calamari is perhaps my favorite in D.C. served fried with black and white sesame seeds and an apricot ponzu sauce which is awesome despite the hint of stone fruit.

But the true food star for me at the Chophouse is the chicken tenderloins, which are some of the best, if not THE best, I have ever had. First of all there is a ton of food on the plate; there's no doubt this dish can stand as a meal on its own. These things are always hot, juicy and tasty and are paired with two sauces: a honey mustard sauce which I don't care for because I'm not that big a honey mustard fan and a barbeque ranch dressing which is completely and utterly awesome. I always order two ramekins of the barbeque ranch instead of one of each.

And then there's the beer. You can only get their homemade beers on tap here. No Bud Light or Coors or any sort of nonsense like that. They usually carry a full range of light to dark beers and typically have a couple of seasonal taps. But my favorite is the oatmeal stout, which is quite literally a top 20 beer of all time for me. I don't have a top 20 beers list but I'm pretty confident it would make it. It's served a little warmer and a little flatter than most American beers and it's sweet and chewy and the foamy head is like a meal unto itself. This drink is truly a reason to go downtown to a basketball game some days.

A final thought on the Chophouse. The caramel apple pie is pretty darned good. Trust me!

So those are my thoughts on where to eat near Verizon Center. Those three spots should hold me or anyone else until I venture out the next six months and find out what else sprung up during the summer. Bon appetit!

Chicken tenderloins and oatmeal stout. Yum!

Summer League Side Trip: Rediscovering Deschutes

In 2011, I spent two weeks driving across the United States with my friends Mike and Bryan. I had wanted to see this country from the ground for a long time so the trip was literally years in the making. Eventually, I came to view it as almost a rite of passage of being an American. I've known other people who have taken similar journeys and I think everyone I know who has made the cross country trek took a few weeks after college before starting their first real job. I waited until I was 43. Oh well!

Our trip across the continent took us on a northern route to the Midwest cities of Cleveland, Indianapolis, St. Louis and Kansas City; through the South Dakota badlands to the town of Deadwood in the Black Hills; on to Yellowstone National Park in the Rockies; and then over the Cascade Mountains to Seattle before ending up in Portland, Oregon and flying home. It was truly one of the great trips I’ve taken. We saw so much that will stick with me for the rest of my life before we likely cheated by taking a plane back home. If I ever do anything like that again, maybe I’ll fly out to Oregon and drive east to D.C. through the south.

On our way across the country, we tried to sample local craft beers in each city we visited: Great Lakes and Thirsty Dog in Cleveland; Sun King in Indianapolis; Schafly in St. Louis; Boulevard in Kansas City; Moose Drool in Yellowstone; and Pike Place Brewing in Seattle. Despite all the great beer we had on our way across the nation, the trip’s real beer destination (because every good trip needs a beer destination) was our last stop of Portland. And the best beer we had in Portland, hands down, was at the Deschutes Brewing Company Pub on Northwest 11th Avenue. It was so good that in the two nights we were in town, we visited the place both nights.

Since we left Portland two years ago, I’ve been craving Deschutes’ Hop In The Dark and Chainbreaker White IPA beers weekly (ESPECIALLY the Chainbreaker). Both beers are what I would call hybrid beers, applying a hop character to beer varieties that are not traditionally heavily hopped. They are, in my experience, unique among beer varieties and it totally works. They are both absolutely delicious.

As of right now, Deschutes distributes as far east as Illinois, which means I can’t find their beer near my home in Washington, D.C. I noticed a Deschutes bar takeover here just a day late last year and I’ve been kicking myself ever since. But Las Vegas is west of Illinois, so while I was out there for NBA Summer League I decided to look for some of what I’ve been craving these last 24 months, with the help of the Find Our Beers section of Deschutes’ website.

So all these words I’ve written essentially amount to a love note to Chainbreaker White IPA. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just saying, that's all. I found some in bottles at Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay a couple of hours after touchdown and had two with a make your own bison burger (American cheese, chopped jalapeños, jalapeño bacon and chipotle aioli if you must know) as soon as I sat down at the bar.

Chainbreaker was perhaps not the perfect pairing with my burger considering my choice of toppings but it was wonderful nonetheless. The beer is a Belgian style witbier which is hopped like an IPA. So where a typical witbier, which I don't drink that often, finishes a little weak and watery in my experience, leaving just a vague yeasty aftertaste, the hop finish on the Chainbreaker adds a finish which is robust and totally in contrast to the rest of the taste of the beer. I savored those two beers, knowing that I could always go back, if I had to, for more. I didn't, as it turned out, but I know where to find it. And next summer, I might just do that unless Deschutes finds a way to distribute to the east coast. I'm still looking for some more Hop In The Dark.