Welcome to Talk to Tom, the dining-advice column that aims to point you toward good meals, steer you from the dross and solve your pressing restaurant queries. Look for a fresh Q&A every Thursday in this space.
Questions and comments can be submitted to TalkToTom@washingtonsun.com. Submissions may be edited for length and clarity.
What are your thoughts on why Bethesda endures such a mediocre food scene? It’s sandwiched between D.C. and Rockville, which both have terrific food.
The center of Bethesda is pricey, and controlled by a few big developers who favor credit-worthy tenants — chains and polished restaurant groups versus individual chefs with more personal menus. Staffing is a challenge, too, given that cooks and servers may not be able to afford to live nearby, which affects hiring and retention. Further, the affluent customer base seems to favor what’s comfortable, familiar and convenient. Then there’s the pull of D.C. and more diverse options. Discerning residents can just drive a short distance for better choices.
Trending
However, I’d be remiss not to flag some places that I admire in Bethesda. They include the Italian-themed Aventino from Mike Friedman, the owner of the popular Red Hen in the District; the French mainstay Mon Ami Gabi, where I recently enjoyed a good trout amandine and warm service; the pan-Asian Raku; and the Salt Line, the attractive local seafood venue on Bethesda Row with same-tasting branches in D.C.’s Navy Yard and Arlington’s Ballston neighborhood.
Another exception to the reader’s thinking was the late Woodmont Grill, which diners appreciated for its live music, generous portions and a lunch that ran to 5 p.m. The restaurant abruptly went dark a year ago this month.
Can you describe how you prepare to visit a new restaurant?
I assume you mean as a food critic. If the establishment has public relations support, I’ll read the press releases and gather any background on the chefs, owners, designers and others, in addition to reviewing the menu online. But I also do some sleuthing of my own. I can’t tell you how many chefs claim they’ve worked for, say, the world-renowned (if controversial) René Redzepi of Noma in Copenhagen or California chef Wolfgang Puck of Spago acclaim, only for me to discover they spent fleeting time in a short stage, or apprenticeship, at those high-profile restaurants.
One thing I try not to do is read fellow reviewers in advance. That might sound surprising, but I never want to be influenced by a competitor or someone else’s thoughts. I also verify the hours the restaurant is open, because more than once, I’ve driven someplace far from home only to discover that, for instance, the place is closed on Tuesdays.
Other than that, I like to approach a new restaurant with open eyes (and tastebuds). Then I aim to order dishes that show off the range of the menu — different cooking techniques and so on.
Why do you love Purple Patch so much?
Launched in 2015, the casual Filipino restaurant in Mount Pleasant is very much to my taste. No one makes better lumpia. But food is only one reason I named Purple Patch my 2023 Restaurant of the Year when I was food critic at The Washington Post. I value the owner’s story just as much as the cooking.
Patrice Cleary is a former Marine, single mom and caretaker to her mother (and cooking teacher), who’s known in the dining room as Lola — “grandmother” in Tagalog. Cleary is also a restaurateur who once told me she held tight to her dream for fear of “letting my people down” as an ambassador of her homeland’s cuisine in the nation’s capital. I admire her work mantra: Be firm, fair and consistent. She also sees needs and fills them. Witness the multiple popular Joia Burger shops she’s introduced in recent years.
Does a work ethic and a sense of mission make the owner’s chicken adobo and vinegar-and-chile-ignited sisig taste better at Purple Patch? I believe so. And Cleary’s bustling dining room backs me up.
How do you pronounce your last name?
Say SEET-suh-ma — and thank you for asking. It’s a Dutch surname from Friesland, in the northern Netherlands.
My wife’s boss is coming to town, and we’d like to take him somewhere special for dinner. He’s a former chef with a pretty discerning palate, and he’s also a pescatarian. We live in Vienna but are happy to go anywhere in NoVA or D.C.
If you want to stay close to home, book a table at the cozy Roberto’s Ristorante Italiano in Vienna, whose veteran chef, Roberto Donna, once presided over the top-tier Galileo in Washington. The sample menu provided online lists multiple fish and seafood options among the starters and main courses. In nearby Fairfax, I’ve been going to the family-run, Greek-themed Nostos for years. Usually, I spring for whole fish, often sweet-flesh branzino, fileted by a server with surgical precision and accompanied by roast potatoes seasoned with lemon and oregano and pleasantly bitter greens.
An ocean of options await in the city. Check out the chic Barbouzard on K Street Northwest for French-Mediterranean fare from the talented Cedric Maupillier, the petite Lutece in Georgetown for some of D.C.’s most artful French cooking or the swank, retro-looking supper club Occidental near the White House, where the goods embrace Dover sole meunière, Chilean sea bass and a sight gag in the form of a crab-filled avocado. (Sorry, no spoilers from me, but you have to try it.)
If you had the option to fly out to any U.S. city for a weekend to get lunch, dinner and breakfast/brunch before flying home, what city would it be and where would you eat?
Just one city, huh? That’s a challenge.
The strategy that first comes to mind, though, is San Francisco, where I worked for four years as a food reporter and restaurant reviewer for The San Francisco Chronicle.
For old time’s sake, the moment I landed, I’d take an Uber from SFO to Tadich Grill. Lunch is my favorite time to eat at the seafood staple by the bay, which opened during the gold rush in 1849 and has been operated by descendants from the Dalmatian Coast of Croatia ever since. The choice seats are the stools at the epic, 80-foot wood bar, where old-school servers in white jackets point out the grill’s classics: crab cakes shaped from Dungeness crab, the oyster-embedded frittata known as Hangtown Fry and definitely a bowl of cioppino that prompts a server to offer you a bib.
Dinner is a no-brainer: Zuni Café, whose wood-burning oven I can smell a block away on Market Street. No matter how many new places have opened since my last visit, I always make time for what I consider to be the most soulful restaurant in the city. Always, I’ll get a first course of house-cured anchovies with celery, Parmigiano-Reggiano and Taggiasca olives — truly one of my last-meal requests. If I’m with company, the roast chicken is a must. Splayed on a bed of dressed mixed greens tossed with currants, pine nuts and torn chunks of oven-crisped Acme bread, the bird is sublime.
Before (reluctantly) flying home the next day, I’d make a beeline for Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, which has more than 100 vendors and a rear plaza that looks over the water. I’d probably slurp some oysters from Hog Island Oyster Company — yep, well before noon — and browse the myriad shops and stalls for edible souvenirs to take home.
Sign up for The Washington Sun Metro newsletter for essential coverage of the D.C. region.
Author
