Gastronomy Blog

a fantabulous time for a great meal...

'what do you want to do tonight?' my esteemed assembly asked me...

my mind swirled and i realized that i had no idea what went on in d.c. anymore - but that is why god invented the internets...

i hopped onto a not many websites and in the long run happened upon this journal...

i don't conscious exactly the acceptable it caught my glad eye, but it sounded great - sketchy neighborhood, belgian beer, mussels - delicious...

we knew the address, but couldn't find it from the car - so we parked and set out on foot. a block later, there it stood, a solid glowering wooden door with a ancient make over high above it - 'GRANVILLE MOORE, M.D .' - the lit sign looked like it had stood there for over fifty years, weathered and beaten, but lull glowing...

we opened the door and stepped into a attractive narrow range, complete with exposed buddy and ceiling beams, blackness expressionless bar, old mismatched tables, and a smiling bartender - when i had called earlier to ask anent reservations, i am stable this is the guy i talked to - we upon it off immediately split second i thanked him for not having a tv.

the light in the room was abject and all the colors where overcast and warm, reminding me of all my favorite paltry pubs. the seven tables downstairs were complemented by the seven upstairs and a be like cocktail lounge...amiable and diminutive, godlike fitted them.

we opened the menu to mark one send for of edibles, and three pages of beer - the foremost person i thought of, my favourite friend matt thenhaus - if only he could be here to eat mussels and enjoy belgian beer - but alas, he is probably at home with his lovely wife and enchanting child - so he will austerely have to be told about it when i return...

we started with mussels - blue cheese, spinach, chaste wine - never would have musing of it, but it worked...then i got a cheese sheet, unmitigated with artisan cheeses, apple compote, salami, and olives..across the put on ice was a grilled chicken sandwich with gruyere and procuitto, a bison burger, and a heaping intensify of 'twice cooked' frites...

caboodle was gifted, the locale was pleasant, the people were testy and affectionate, and all in all - i was overwhelmingly inspired...of course this place was run by and staffed with likeminded people very close to my age...i could ascertain where they where making money (decorous, but reasonable ingredients - shamed kitchen team - beer) and how they where saving money (not bothering with painting the walls, comminuted china, linens, and frills like bread and butter)...

it was in authentic 'gastro-pub' tag...hugely recommended for anyone in the d.c. close concerning any size of time...