13. Central Michel Richard
Last night my friend Patrick asked me if I went to go to one of the top 100 restaurants for dinner. I thought, ‘How nice! He listened to me complain about eating by myself!’. Alas, all he wanted was a ride home. I think I was subconsciously hip to his scheme, but whatever gets me a buddy at dinner is fine. Coming up on Central on a weekday night is pretty weird since Pennsylvania Ave. is all but deserted (save for the occasional tour bus parked around the corner for the ESPN Zone), and to add to the high noon-y atmosphere, there was a random duck roaming around in the puddles outside the restaurant. Don’t get any ideas, Michel!
We didn’t have reservations, and when I called before we left to see if we could get in, the hostess all but laughed in my face. Not ones to give up easily, we decided to give it a shot anyway and just sit in the bar if the dining room was full. Much to our delight, there was a table right in the front of the restaurant. Not exactly a power table since we caught a serious gust of wind every time the door opened, but having eaten in the bar with it’s tiny tables before, I know that the stop sign size plates they use are not exactly teeny table friendly. We were lucky, but the restaurant is relatively small, so I would recommend reservations for you non-gamblers. And for the last table-related comment, I give you the first dude public service announcement of the review (courtesy of Patrick): “the chairs were great for sitting. Very comfy.”
The menu is extensive, and is an obvious Michel Richard masterpiece with the goofy (in a good way!) dishes like “faux gras” and “Kit Kat bars”. Most dishes are definite upscale bistro compared to Citronelle, but the quality of food isn’t compromised even a bit. We started off with the cheese puffs, which are not to be missed. Dude PSA #2: “the puffs were like Munchkin’s, but with cheese instead of sugar”. Paging Dunkin Donuts R&D! They were crispy on the outside, but were the texture of a beignet on the inside. And miraculously, they stayed warm through the whole dinner. For my main course, I had the braised beef cheeks, served with pureed carrots (or maybe sweet potato?), a port reduction and tagliatelle. Simply delicious. The beef melted in my mouth and had I not had someone eating with me, I probably would have soaked up the sauce with the extra bread. Or maybe the extra cheese puffs. Genius alert! Patrick had the fried chicken, as any man should, and gave it rave reviews. And by rave reviews I mean between each bite he would say “THIS IS SO GOOD!” before the next bite. That’s some seriously high praise. The dish came with both a breast and leg, and the crust on the outside was crisp and not greasy and perfectly seasoned. The mashed potatoes served underneath get points for not being dry, but I thought they were not so memorable otherwise. Everyone told us to order the chocolate bar dessert, which ended up being a re-imagined (read: big) Kit Kat bar, served with homemade ice cream. It was good, but neither of us are huge dessert people so we would have probably rather had another order of fried chicken instead.
Service at Central is speedy, so speedy that it gives off a food factory vibe at some points—pushing out our entrees before we were done with our appetizer. I don’t really mind though, I can’t imagine what I would have done if had to be without those beef cheeks a minute more than necessary. We did get a little bit of unappreciated attitude from our waiter when we asked if there were specials off the menu though, he told us instead that “pshaw, everything on the menu was special. Duh.” Dude, a simple no would suffice. (Duh added for emphasis). We didn’t order any booze, but I can say from previous experience that the specialty cocktails are inspired. Patrick did have a Diet Coke, which he called (Dude PSA #3): “the best Diet Coke ever. Something about the temperature I think.”
And since we were sitting at a power table right by the front door, we saw all the celebs. Not only did we see Tony Kornheiser, we saw my friends Kristi and Luke. You don’t know them? Well, you need to re-up your subscription to Washington Life. They ordered just about everything on the menu, and gave extra special props to the lobster burger (massively overpriced in my opinion), and the bacon cheeseburger, which I seriously contemplated tackling a passing waitress for when I saw her carrying it to another table.
All in all, Central is pretty awesome and I’m kicking myself all the way down Pennsylvania Avenue for not eating there more often. The restaurant was also a hit with my dining partner who said, (dude PSA #4): “I’m totally getting my dad to take me here next time he’s in town.” Well, there you go.
