24. Obelisk
My parents became pretty intimately acquainted with the Washingtonian list by the time I was done. They’ve lived here a while, are champion diner-outers and listened to me talk for a year about these damned 100 restaurants. So when I told them that I was heading to Obelisk as my 100th and final dinner, they were pleased. Their responses were as follows:
Mom: “It’s French, right?”
Dad: “No, it’s like Moroccan or something. I think you eat with your hands.”
That would be incorrect on both accounts. And it wasn’t just my parents—lots of people had heard of Obelisk, but knew absolutely nothing about it. So here’s a little refresher for you all: it’s actually Italian, teeny tiny, a fixed menu and located in a townhouse on P St. So there you go, now we’re all caught up.
The lovely and talented Meagan has been a major player when it comes to eating this year, so it seemed only fitting that she accompany me to the finale. It was good we didn’t invite too many other friends because Obelisk falls in to the tiny restaurant category—I’d say there’s probably room for 30 diners at most. The dining room is startlingly well lit and noisy, giving that dressed down fancy feel that Komi does so well. The menu is hand written each day, with just a couple choices for each course. On this occasion, there actually wasn’t much on the menu that reached out and grabbed me. It’s not a knock against the kitchen, but with small menus sometimes you hit it on a bad night. And I hit it on a beet ravioli, roast quail kind of night.
The parade of antipasto was pretty wonderful—homemade mortadella, homemade burrata (my favorite), little risotto croquettes. The only issue was that all the plates came out at the same time and it was pretty hard to juggle them all on our little table. No matter, we just ate them faster. Then came the pasta course. I had the duck ragu, which was really flavorful if a bit on the tiny side. And Meagan had the beet ravioli—something I never would have ordered but actually thought was really great. The color was a little off putting but with beets come blood red ravioli filling I guess. Our main courses came out next—Meagan had a really beautiful and tender steak and I had the roast quail. Quail is always better in theory than in practice in my opinion. It comes out so cute and mini-chickeny and then it just ends up being a lot of bones and a little too hard for me to cut up. What little I did get in my mouth tasted really nice though.
Then there was a little cheese course and then dessert. Meagan and a great little pistacio panna cotta, and I had a lemon cake that was a little dry and heavy but only in the way I think all Italian cakes are a little dry and heavy, so I’ll give them a pass. All in all it’s a great meal in the vein of Komi—wonderful service, casual atmosphere and very tasty dishes. Seems only fitting that I end this project with a place like that. Call it: “From Komi to Komi-esque”.
