Ariell Kirylo • August 10, 2012

In the film adaptation of the novel, “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” by Roald Dahl, actor Gene Wilder opens the door for a group of lucky odds and ends to explore a land of endless, edible gems. And as the children and parents alike scatter amongst the sugar and spice, Willie Wonka Wilder vibrates the room with a tune entitled, “Pure Imagination.” There on the premises of everyone’s food fantasy, Wonka declares there is no life to compare to, well, “true imagination.”

Washingtonians, I’d like you to take a moment and imagine your ideal Sunday brunch. Could it be a well-made Bloody Mary or possibly a refined and delicate Benedict? Ah, I see you now as you giggle and chew on what you thought you knew was your favorite spot on Sunday. Indeed, D.C., what if I told you about a new brunch on the scene that will blow every brunch you’ve ever brunched away to sea? And I promise it’s not only in your imagination.

Seasons Restaurant, located in the underbelly of the Four Seasons Georgetown, has been known for years as the power breakfast hot spot for D.C.’s political VIPs. Yet after a recent $1-million-dollar face-lift from the scalpels of design hotshot Michael Dalton of Strategic Hotels, Seasons has become so much more than a place to eavesdrop on Tuesday mornings. Using the base of what we already knew as top-notch service and dining, Seasons steps further up as Washington’s best Sunday brunch. Truth be told, executive chef Douglas Anderson, and his talented sous chef Jeffrey Hillman went to the extreme to make sure no diner leaves unsatisfied (or underweight, for that matter).

At Seasons, they love to switch it up. One thing you can be sure of is their changing and always inventive “action stations.” On my recent trip to Seasons, I was entertained by the Peruvian-style ceviche bar where scallops, shrimp and red snapper were diced and drowned on the spot in a citrusy zing and hand-made for each patron. To accompany my ceviche, I visited the endlessly replenished seafood bar stacked mountainously high with Blue Point oysters, crab claws and jumbo shrimp. Furthermore, I didn’t miss the selection of prepared seafood bites, including the house-cured selection of smoked salmon. One of my favorites is the seared ahi tuna over a perfectly compressed mango salsa. In seafood alone I ate well beyond my golden ticket price of $80, thus making Seasons’ brunch also an excellent value.

So, is it the best brunch in Washington? For those who enjoy a fixed-price buffet with excellent service, quality products and lots of it, the answer is yes. With the continuous pours of Franco Nuschese’s sparkling Falanghina Il Sogno and an opulent selection of Bloody Marys, brunch has never felt more luxurious in the District. Though chef Anderson will not deny any customer a choice from his daily breakfast menu, I recommend the $80 all-you-can-drink mimosas, coffee and brunch buffet option. And you get what you pay for. The perimeter of the restaurant is lined with countless options for your brunching. Yet, if you do decide to order from the chef’s menu or you choose to visit Seasons on another occasion for breakfast, I do recommend both the inventive corned beef hash croquet with bosomy, bouncing poached eggs or the Boursin and crab egg white omelet.

Yet for Sunday’s brunch, I recommend eating a large meal Saturday night in preparation for indulging in a three-to four-hour feast, starting at 10:30 a.m. and ending at 2:30 p.m. Go early, and eat leisurely. Reservations are highly recommended. Besides the seafood options, expect to see spreads of all sorts: charcuterie and cheeses, eight salad selections, the finest of pastries, an omelet bar, six selections of sides ranging from grilled asparagus to cipollini and crispy pancetta, crab cakes and short ribs and a bagel selection. Just to shout out a few.

Still, what floored me (literally) was the feast of desserts hidden in a separate room and catering to the young at heart. Executive pastry chef Charles Froke took it home with the most imaginative bite-size creations that will have you licking the wallpaper in a tizzy. Definitely snag a taste of the decadent but surprisingly elegant Snickers in a cup and use a spoon to crack open one of those mini crème brulees. The only thing missing was a chocolate waterfall. [gallery ids="100774,100775,100776,100777,100778,100779" nav="thumbs"]

Ariell Kirylo • May 3, 2012

Jack Kerouac once wrote, “the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved.” Yet, what Jack failed to scribble onto his snarky scroll of self-searching was “mad to cook” and this, my dear friends, is the best kind of mad there is. Partaking on his own self-fulfilling journey is Chef RJ Cooper III with his new restaurant, Rogue 24. Folded within the narrow streets of Blagden Alley lies a unique kitchen where all angst of culinary dissatisfaction in our nation’s capital comes to die. The kitchen at Rogue 24 is not hidden behind swinging doors, nor is it your typical “open kitchen” you may think you’ve seen. RJ Cooper’s stage is smack in the middle of the dining room and filled with eager minions ready to show Chef how brilliant they actually are. In turn, this makes an evening at Rogue 24 as close to perfect as Cooper’s team of “gastr-overachievers” can possibly make it. During dinner, and surely encouraged by increasing sips of paired alcoholic splendor, it is hard not to become enamored by a man exposed and unafraid to perform on command. It is his taste, his vision and the dripping fruit of his own culinary past — your role as the diner is simply to meditate, appreciate and associate each bite with the nostalgic smells and flavors of your past.

The concept of eating “nostalgically” is like going to an art gallery – you interpret what is before you as per your own life experiences. Whether it’s your grandmother’s best cooked dish or one you tasted whilst travelling through Europe, both of Cooper’s tasting menus will at some point wisk your tongue down memory lane. Somewhere in the midst of courses one through 24, you will indeed recognize a smell or a flavor from one day when and “oohs and ahhs” of wistfulness will escape you between bites. You will so very delicately discover at Rogue 24, that eating is no longer the act of fork to mouth, but more purposefully — fork to soul. Bearing all this in mind, I approached every dish that evening with contempt, as I fought to unlock the nostalgic crux of each swollen balsamic fish egg. And by the end of 24 plates and a myriad of generous wine pours and cocktails, I felt just as any soul-drifter would: content, haggard, and yes, very drunk. In the dimly lit dining room where mid-century meets industrial design and foam tastes like cucumber, I could not help but think back to the characters of Kerouac’s American classic, “On the Road,” whose dreams of freedom from conformity sent them haywire through landscapes, relationships and ultimately self-actualization. As Dean and Sal attempt to escape the monotony of everyday life, I , too, find myself beaten and unsatisfied with an endless continuum of lackluster ambiance and predictable meals. The restlessness becomes too much to bear, and my credit card and I drive up and away into the sunset. Though Route 66 has become just another interstate highway on an even phonier map than before, Chef RJ Cooper III decided to stick it to everyone and turn dinner into a journey. I arrived to the restaurant right before the first reservation, accidently interrupting the family-style staff dinner in the salon. Without hesitation or annoyance, the chef sat me down next to him and continued his democratic address of necessary business that evening.

Seated among the young cast of 30 odd employees, the atmosphere felt more like a gathering of actors before curtain call than a throng of cooks, hosts and waiters. It was quite evident that for those present, it was not just another day at work. For the folks of Rogue 24 dinnertime is show time and, with every designer plate served since July 27, just another opportunity to improve and perfect their trade. After a huddle and break, the staff scattered back to Kitchen Island and furiously continued prepping for the evening’s performance.

Left in the salon with a glass of rosé bubbly, I prepared to partake on my own journey — 24 mini extravaganzas with eight pairings that would, according to Harold our noble host, indubitably amaze and surprise. While I have dined at restaurants with similar haute cuisine progressions, it is always exciting to uncover the mysteries of each chef’s own life pit-stops weaved throughout the layers of crème fraiche and rooibos gel. And as the curtains separating the salon from the dining room began to flutter with movement of cooks in the kitchen, my dinner guest and I were asked to follow Harold into the dining room. From the start of “The Journey” on, we were delicately placed in RJ Cooper’s passenger seat as he veered effortlessly between roles of top chef, host and waiter, all while blessing each plate before sending it off to a table. Without further ado, and to continue my thesis supporting the connection between Kerouac’s novel and the experience of Rogue 24, I present to you with the utmost exclusivity, the better and more innovative dishes of the evening. In addition, and as any English major/food enthusiast would, I have separated the selected plates into themes associated with “On the Road.” Therefore each theme is representative of the memories I personally shared upon tasting each dish as well as my personal critiques. Enjoy and Bon Voyage!

“T includes 24 courses; $175/with pairings; $120/without. (Note: Dishes come out at a quick pace. No time for breaks. You are in a two-hour tunnel of endless sensations and spirits.)

While I recommend saving your pennies for just another week to experience “The Journey,” you may also choose the lighter fare of “The Progression,” which includes 16 courses; $145/with pairings: $100/without.

Fowl Play: To explain this dish in a clear nutshell, it is a maple wood campfire captured in a cup. Make sure to lift off the top of this jarred jewel slowly as the trapped “smoke” escapes quickly. The smell of summer camp triggers the liberating memory of out-running the fat kid in Capture the Flag and you are free, free, free. Honestly, I never loved camping, but this thoughtful dish makes the outdoors taste good. Within this jar you will find crispy duck jerky, a partridge egg yolk cooked gooey, some “hay” (fried corn silks) and an edible flower. It is to be eaten in one smoky, sticky spoonful.

Not Your Cheese Course: The interpretation of this Babybel cheese reminded me of the old days when I snuck these rubies from the refrigerator to secretly consume in my room. Oh, the joy of unwrapping their waxy shell! (Naturally, the mystery of the disappearing cheese was later uncovered by my stepmother due to the mound of red waxy balls piling in my sock drawer.) Yet this bundle of headcheese is not meant to be unwrapped. Folded within its edible exterior is braised pork churned and dipped into a paprika gelatin-like substance made from seaweed. It is served slated with pickled mustard seed, mustard green, violet mustard grape musk and complimented with pretzel paper.

Shrimp and Grits: With ringing freedom bells from Vidalia and freedom from the o’ so common comforting bed of grits with sleeping crustaceans, Cooper presents his unadulterated version of a Southern classic. If you do not know what to expect, listen carefully to your server for this dish. The grit covered corn milk lava ball represents the traditional goop, and the shrimp is reinvented in chorizo form. You need not a spoon but only a couple bites to consume this relic of Cooper’s past.

Foie gras: Sunday morning breakfast goes nuovelle cuisine? I thought this dish to be the most unusual pairing of flavors and temperatures, but also one of the most inventive. What you see is a hearty bowl of nitrogen frozen foie gras shaved like icy cornflakes and layered above lavender merengue and rooibos gel. Though I felt the presentation of this dish, including the oversized spoon, was muddled and just plain confusing, the rich and buttery foie gras literally melts in your mouth and is nicely complimented by the texture and sweetness of the merengue. With the appropriate spoon and served in a dish where the ingredients can be better observed, I would say this one is definitely a keeper.

Lamb Neck: Cooper has perfected the relationship of sweet and savory in this Eastern-inspired dish. The lamb is braised for 24 hours then portioned to sit upon Tzatziki — add blot of black garlic, splotch of eggplant puree, and a sweet smear of lemon meringue puree. Not to dismiss the candied sesame seeds and greasy onion chip, but the caramelized lemon and eggplant sang brilliantly in tune. A dip in the tangy garlic whistling from the Tzatziki brings it all together in one tongue-tingling sensation.
Visions of America

Virginia Corn or “Cornucopia”: What’s more American than corn? Though I did not really understand this dish other than it being reminiscent of my grandfather’s vitamin-filled oatmeal, I did however find it mockingly appealing. As you can see there is corn espuma on top of a corn chip powder with a baby heirloom corn, brown butter emulsion, freeze-dried corn, popcorn with escrolet pepper, a pickled mushroom and a sprinkle of black salt. It is almost like Cooper wanted to take what the rest of the world mocks us for and turn it into a gourmet slap in the face. Ironically enough, I found the mushroom to be the tastiest part of the dish. A celebration of a country or a F-you to the haters? There could be a political message here.

Tennessee: Not just your classic combo of chocolate and vanilla, this dessert will make your cookie crumble. Adorably plated on a mound of “soil” (ground homemade oreo), this dirty dish is composed of chocolate cremeux (similar to a pudding), olive Sinclair chocolate from Nashville, and hatted with maple wood gelato delicately shaped into a quenelle (three-sided football shape/dumpling). The earthiness of the maple wood and the texture of the oreo soil initially gave the impression of noshing a spoonful of forest floor. Yet, as the gelato melts in your mouth and dampens the cookie crumbles, the flavors marry perfectly. You begin to wonder where you can buy this dessert by the pint.

Toigo’s Peach Inspiration: Another Southern-inspired dish gone mental was the all-American peaches n’ cream. The summer’s juiciest peaches from Toigo Orchards in Pennsylvania were sliced and soaked in bourbon syrup and potted with sweet tea gelée and vanilla. While the overall flavor of this dessert was rousing, I felt the presentation made it look like a stringy, vomity soup. As much as the 10-year-old in me jumped for joy at the sound of marshmallow noodles, I am not convinced they did the texture of this dish any favors. Instead of slimy marshmallow bucatini, maybe Cooper should shoot for fire crispy gnocchetti next time? Also, I feel a burnt flavor and a crispiness to the noodles could really tie the dish together as well as help with the texture setback. Note: The chosen pairing of a Val-Dieu, a rich Belgian beer, is a must for this dish.

Sea Floor: Pretty to look at, pretty annoying to eat. Cooper makes you work for this one and if you do not like the taste of the ocean floor, this may not be your favorite course. I, on the other hand, could not wait to try my luck at catching the sea booger with my giant tweezers. Step aside fork! Sea Floor is made up of a Catalina Island sea urchin, pickled seaweed and sea-air foam. Due to the depth of the bowl, the aromas are caught and held within. Go ahead, stick your face in the bowl. It is like taking a whiff of sea air. Note: Neither the bowl nor the utensil are intended for the diner’s comfort. In fact, some dishes at Rogue 24, such as Sea Floor, are the antithesis of comfortable eating. Struggling to clasp the oozing sea urchin with foot-long tweezers, can only be comparable to watching a toddler play Operation. Thankfully, the only thing missing from this dish was that fastidious buzzer.

Hog Jowl: To the tune of the Newman’s “dance of the plastic bag,” I took a bite of what would end up being one of my favorite dishes of the evening. Who knew the complexity onion ice cream could bring to a pain perdu? Served on a small square sand dollar was caramelized onion ice cream topped with a bit of smoky jowl (pig cheek) and escorted by a fatty corn puff stuck to the plate with caramel. This dish was memorable for the play with salty and sweet as well as temperature. Upon digging in, our waiter made sure to tell us to “enjowl.” So, there was cheese with this dish.

Garden Soda: If this bottle contained a message, it would be “Ariell, this drink was made for thee.” I am a sucker for cutesy presentation, and this savory soda of vegetable consommé with summer squash and garden flowers was a sparkling, sugary, splendor. The slight saltiness of the veggie stock made me and addict for small sips and the fragrance escaping the bottle as you brought it to your lips was of sweet smelling of cucumbers. I had to have two.

An evening at Rogue 24 is not only about trying your hand at tricky utensils and your tongue at new tastes and temperature marriages, it is also about sips of cocktails and wine between bites and laughs. It is a place to witness those dedicated to culinary creativity put before you food designed with passion and intensity. [gallery ids="100312,108007,108002,107997,107992,108016,107987,108020,107982,108024,108028,108012" nav="thumbs"]

Ariell Kirylo •

Chef de Cuisine Joe Palma of Westend Bistro believes in degustation served with education. In the coming months and on select evenings, fishermen will flood the dining room of Eric Ripert’s Westend Bistro to explain exactly how that fish (yes, that fish) got to the plate. For the price of $85 per person, Chef Palma serves up four courses with wine pairings for a true ocean-to-table experience.

The Fisherman’s Dinner Series consists of three separate sit-down events hosted at Westend Bistro, part of the Ritz Carlton in Washington D.C. During dinner, fisherman from the Chesapeake and New England regions will discuss the sustainability and quality of their catch directly with the diner. After each lively five-minute presentation, Chef Joe Palma will whip up a dish created purposefully to highlight why Westend Bistro purchases their seafood from these fishing companies. Expect an evening of fresh fish, perfectly paired wines and animated discussion with fisherman, distributors and, of course, Chef Joe Palma.

The first ocean-to-table dinner will be held at Westend Bistro on Wednesday, Nov. 16, 7 p.m., and will feature the following menu and fishing crew:

Rappahannock River Oysters of Tappahannock, Va.
RrOysters.com

These guys are true oyster folk who supply a variety of flavored oysters and promote aquaculture sustainability with their own nonprofit partnered with the Oyster Recovery Project.

Chef dishes it: Clam Escabeche with pickled onion, Jalapeno piperade sauce and fried capers. Bathed in a tangy yet not overpowering sauce, the sweet and buttery oysters are highlighted by the thinly sliced and stark jalapeno and onion.

Congressional Seafood Company of Jessup, Md.
CongressionalSeafood.com

This local company sells a myriad of products to fine dining establishments and gourmet markets in the Washington/Baltimore area. As the tub of sweet and succulent Maryland lump crab meat was passed around the table to taste, it was clear these distributors take their job very seriously.

Chef dishes it: Chesapeake Crab Chowder made with jumbo lump crab, warm Yukon Gold potatoes and lemon aioli. Poured over a portion of sweet crab and tiny cubed potatoes was a creamy and soul-warming broth made from a crab boil with a lemony finish.

Four Seasons Guide Service of Solomans Island, Md.
FourSeasonsGuideService.com
Whether it is commercial fishing or a guided fishing tour, Captain “Walleye” Pete is your man. Before chowdown, Chef Palma showed us the striped bass this ex-Air Force fishing expert brought in fresh that day.

Chef dishes it: Walleye Pete’s Striped Bass with sautéed dandelion greens, truffled polenta cake and a red wine bernaise. This hearty dish presented a complex of flavors playing off the sweet fluffiness of the fish and bitterness of the greens. The polenta cake is light, creamy and meant to be doused in the red wine sauce.

Dessert

Sweet Potato Pie with a crisp pecan crust, fried sweet potato chips with lime and a lemon fig emulsion. This happy ending was a marriage of fall flavors brought together by a sugared and spiced Prosecco.

Note: The menus will change with the fisherman for each separate event. [gallery ids="100340,108672" nav="thumbs"]

Ariell Kirylo •

Having witnessed the Occupy D.C. movement only on television or the occasional downtown drive-by spy, I felt it necessary to visit the steadfast soldiers of the 99% in order to ask them a very important question: What are you eating?

The beauty of being a food writer visiting the active volcano of political statements currently erupting at McPherson Square was that my presence remained neutral. I was Switzerland and was not there to indulge in dogmatic banter or critique the functioning of their operation or lack thereof; I was there to uncover what it was these people, camped out in the dead of noon and night, were noshing for nutrients.

The members of Occupy D.C. are of all shapes, sizes, colors, ages and financial statuses. Arriving around lunchtime, I walked amongst them searching for a place to call kitchen. My first encounters were a homeless man asking for a hug (which I quickly side-stepped,) a group of young Occupy drifters swigging vodka-lemonade and an older woman, self-named, Mother Jones asking for help to unload food from her car. This was my cue.

I followed Mother Jones and another group of volunteers to a white beat-up Subaru station wagon filled to the brim with containers of fresh fruit, cookies and other goods labeled mostly 7-Eleven and Trader Joes. “Where did you get this from?” I asked. “Where do you think I got them from?” Replied Jones: “People!”

Mother Jones lives in Glen Echo and is one of a handful of “runners,” who are hooked up to a network and called upon to transport donations made from various sources. It appears many local people and businesses prefer to remain anonymous in their donations. This made it difficult to pull specific names out of Mother Jones for this story. For her, it was irrelevant who donated. For her, it only meant fulfilling a desire to be participant in movement she believes in. Later that day, I saw her standing proudly aside one of the founding members of Occupy McPherson who was loudly rattling off missions for that afternoon to dwellers, visitors and mostly anyone who was listening.

While unloading Mother Jones’s car, I met Ralph Dantley, an articulate middle-aged man who was simultaneously unloading his own beat-up Subaru station wagon parked next to us. Dantley is the President of Good Success Servant Services, a small nonprofit organization operating in D.C., I assume, only thanks to the good will and hard work of its very president. Dantley has also offered himself as donation runner for Occupy and was, in that moment, unpacking a large amount of doughnuts from who knows where, and bags of chips that had “fallen off the Utz truck.” He led me to a nearby tent to unload the donation boxes.

The donated food was placed upon a table situated outside of a large blue and well constructed tent near the corner of 15th and K. Surrounding the tent was a mausoleum of half-clean, half-dirty pots, a collection of wires ducked taped together — the skeleton of what appeared to be the previous kitchen structure — and a makeshift stove onto which a large pot of water was boiling for dishwashing. As witnessed at any workplace, within minutes the food Mother Jones and Dantley had delivered was readily torn through by the surrounding crowd.

I spoke with a smiling young man, 25, from Silver Spring, who had snatched up some of Mother Jones’s packaged cantaloupe from 7-Eleven. He told me he had the money to purchase a sandwich from the Pot Belly across the street, yet preferred to stick it out with the group he marches and sleeps through the night with. Though he said if things did get desperate enough, he would slip away and use his debit card.

Catching my attention, Dantely asked if I wanted to meet the “hero” in the kitchen. Clearly, this is what I came for. Unlike the chaotic front yard of the blue kitchen tent, the inside surpassed all expectations. The shelves were stocked carefully with loads of canned and dry products like rice and pasta and even taco shells. There were organized plastic containers of onions and potatoes lining the walls, a table positioned up front and cutting boards for prepping. Amazed at the neatness of the space and, quite frankly, humbled at the thought of my own disorganized kitchen, I spun around to meet Vasant Khalsa, the hero.

How on earth? I asked. How did you? Who helped you? Where did you come from? The questions were stuttering from my mouth. Not at all flattered by the attention, yet unconsciously charming, Vasant, 29, recounted his three-minute story.  He came to D.C. from Oakland, originally for the Martin Luther King ceremony and surrounding events in October. While checking out the Occupy movement for the first time in person, he noticed a desperate need for leadership in the kitchen department. McPherson Square needed someone to spearhead the building of a proper and hygienic tent to store and organize edible donations and cook “hot” meals. Not only was Vasant up to the task but what he has been able to accomplish with what he was given is remarkable. Dantley confirmed that within one night, Vasant had rebuilt the kitchen tent, found shelving and single-handily arranged everything into what it looks like today.

Learning to cook simply from being “on his own at home,” Vasant was prepared to whip up a lamb stew that evening for his fellow Occupiers. He spoke to us without hesitation of his self-assigned kitchen duties but was occasionally interrupted by people asking for his help with this or that. I stepped aside, while he poured hot water into plastic containers outside the tent for dishwashing. When I returned to the tent only minutes later, Vasant’s laptop had been stolen. He sat on his prepping table slumped over in disappointment while Dantley comforted him, “You didn’t deserve that, son.”

Having yet to pose for a picture displaying his hard work and dedicated community effort, Vasant was reluctant to smile for the camera and I was reluctant to force him. “Someone will return it,” I said. “You should wreak havoc until they do.” “What for?” he replied. “It won’t matter anyway. It’s just what happens the second I turn my back.” Shortly after and within the safety of his orderly kitchen, he sat emotionless on his prepping table facing the opening flap. We snapped the shot needed for this article, shook his hand and uneasily reassured him good would eventually return.  

What I learned that day in McPherson Square was more than what I set out for. Amongst the bedlam of tents, improvised solar panels and rivers of people passing through with signs of discontent, there exists the voices of those individuals who have dedicated their days to make this movement possible. The District has extended Occupy’s lease at McPherson until February 2012. As the bitter cold approaches, my thoughts will be with Mother Jones, President Dantely and Vasant. And just maybe, besides another round of Lamb Stew, the universe might bring Vasant an opportunity to exist sufficiently in the world of the 99% or at the very minimum, bring back his laptop. [gallery ids="100402,113230,113217,113223" nav="thumbs"]

Ariell Kirylo •

Franco Nuschese, 50, custom suit, designer glasses, warm smile. He sits at his desk in his office above Cafe Milano in Georgetown reviewing finances and chatting with his publicist, Jan. He is calm, approachable and chooses tea instead of coffee. It is a serene morning for Nuschese—a time with no fires to put out, a moment of contemplation, a chance to speak openly about his life’s accomplishments and epiphanies.

Cafe Milano, a longtime Washington D.C. landmark known for its Italian hospitality and discretion, still maintains the same air of exclusivity since its opening on Nov. 3, 1992.

Nuschese has devoted the last 19 years to curating a trustworthy team dedicated to upholding the restaurant’s unique fine dining identity in combination with its reputation for celebrity accommodation. A conversation with Nuschese quickly unveils that Cafe Milano is a direct reflection of the man himself — his charm, his welcoming personality and his incredible ability to put people at ease.

But with the recent passing of his father, Giuseppe, and longtime mentor Terry Lanni, Nuschese now approaches a new phase in life: one that involves facing forward without the guidance of those lost. For him, riding on the coattails of the past is not an option. Nuschese speaks enthusiastically of expansion in association with his current company, The Georgetown Entertainment Group, as well as his recent passion in the production and distribution of Italian wine. It is clear he envisions the future with the same child-like energy as the day Cafe Milano opened its doors to the movers and shakers of Washington.

The Georgetowner sat down with Nuschese on a calm winter morning to hear the story of his restaurant, his thoughts on community giving, his opinions on Italian politics and what it takes to create a successful, timeless restaurant.

With Washington’s ever-changing culinary world more active than ever before, Nuschese shared his philosophy on success and discussed how he managed to create an epicurean empire still reigning amid the hills of Georgetown.

The Georgetowner: Through all these years, what has been your secret to maintaining such a high-profile clientele at Cafe Milano?

Franco Nuschese: Mine are a very demanding type of clientele. At all costs, it is my responsibility to ensure they leave happy. Period. My experience of working in Las Vegas, and under those principles, has helped me understand this. I aim to please and, of course, I brought to Washington a familiar idea: “Whatever happens in Vegas …” You know the rest.

GT: Cafe Milano has a flawless reputation, and has survived on top through numerous presidential administrations and Washington’s continually expanding culinary scene. You created a timeless restaurant. How were you able to do that?

FN: It’s simple, believe it or not. You have to give to the people what they want. It’s all about consistency. It is one of the biggest challenges to a restaurant. It’s great to open your doors as a new restaurant owner and feed off the excitement and positive energy of that time, but really it is getting to know your clientele personally. You exist for them. Through promotions and special invitations, it’s easy to get them in once, but the hardest part is to get them to come back on their own.

GT: What must you do in order to get the people to come back?

FN: Consistency. As a restaurant owner, you must spend time up front in designing the right staff to help you with this. In a changing city like Washington, it is about creating that stability. Your staff must be as dedicated as you are to the concept.

GT: Once you are confident with your staff, what else is crucial to giving the people what they want?

FN: A restaurant must have a great vibe. It is my responsibility to foster that atmosphere. People need to feel the vibe bounce from their skin when they walk in. It’s in the simple things: the light in the candles, the bar, the music, the food. The clientele may not be able to put their finger on what it is, but you know because you created it. People come to a restaurant because they want to see and they want to be seen, all the while wanting the privacy they deserve.

When you open a restaurant — or any business for that matter — it is like you are opening your home. You are, in a way, selling yourself. These are your guests, and you have to be a host. You have to make them feel like they’re at home. It is under your roof that your guest wants to bring their best friends, their girlfriends, their colleagues or whatever. In order to be successful, your business needs to be versatile in this way.”

GT: Tell us about opening night at CafeMilano.

FN: (Smiling.) It was a very cold night in November in ‘92. I’ll tell you, it was great. The bar was packed. I must say, in a very humble way of course, I immediately knew what was going to happen.

GT: So, you felt immediately that Cafe Milano would be a success?

FN: I knew it was going to be alright because it is very easy for me to absorb the energy of the people. This is a very important tool for a business owner. One must humble themselves and really value their client and get to the core of their likes and dislikes. That night I saw lobbyists and politicians really enjoying themselves. These people work all day in very conservative and calculated atmospheres. That night, I saw them relax in the atmosphere I created for them. At the time, we only had 52 seats and I knew immediately we would need to expand.

GT: You appeared on the Italian reality show, “Dreaming of Italy,” designed to highlight Italian-Americans who found success in the U.S. So…do you dream of Italy?

FN: I can tell you one thing. I might live in the U.S., but I live like an Italian. From the minute I wake up to the minute I go to sleep.

GT: What does that mean, to wake up in the morning as an Italian in Washington?

FN: I wake up, I have a decaf espresso, I read the Italian paper and watch the Italian news. I also live my life like there’s no tomorrow. As one should.

GT: What are your thoughts on the current state of Italian politics?

FN: I think [former Italian Prime Minister] Silvio Berlusconi was extremely good for Italy. He has been around for 60 years. But, like everything else, times have changed. We cannot afford to do the same things we used to. He has been a great leader and a great entrepreneur, but we needed to turn the page. When it comes to politics and the media, it’s a totally different world now. Facebook and Twitter have changed everything. You cannot get away with anything anymore. Anything you say, anytime, anywhere within seconds becomes public.

GT: So, what will happen to Italy now?

FN: All I know is that if Italy fails, the U.S. fails. There has never been more attention on Italy than there is today. The economy is too big and produces too much. Someone will step in.

GT: You were born in Minori, a tiny town on the Amalfi Coast in Italy. You’ve worked in London and Las Vegas. But you built your empire here in the District. Why Washington?

FN: Well, it’s the center of the universe. Think world politics, business, everything is going through here. And besides, geographically you are close to everything: New York City, Europe, even the Bahamas!

GT: In the past decade, you have received numerous awards for your community partnerships here in Washington. How do you define the importance of community in your business?

FN: I come from a small city where most people do not have the luxury of entrepreneurship. But one thing I did learn, is when you make money you must invest it back into the community. It’s an amazing feeling to be able to do that. A luxury even.

GT: When you look back upon your personal achievements, how do you feel?

FN: (Laughing) Actually, I’m having more fun now than 30 years ago. As an entrepreneur, I was always anxious with the pressure of creating and protecting my business. People will tell you that nothing lasts forever. I never stopped to worry about it, though. Now I don’t even feel like I’m 50. I’m still having such a great time.
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Ariell Kirylo • December 8, 2011

Chef Scott Drewno is the man behind Wolfgang Puck’s The Source, adjacent to the Newseum in Penn Quarter. On the surface, Drewno is the epitome of the all-American man: 6 feet 5 inches, handsome, happily married to his high school sweetheart, lover of Diet Coke and, I can only assume, baseball. What isn’t captured by the bare naked eye? Drewno has seriously stepped it up as a fierce D.C. contender in modern Chinese cooking.

Reentering Western society from his Vol. II trip to China, Drewno brings with him a wonton of ideas in the form of duck, pig, dumplings and noodles. Taking restaurant recommendations before his trip from local Chinese phenoms such as Ming of Ming’s in Chinatown and friends like Chef Lee Heftner, Drewno went to China with a list of 80 restaurants to hit up.

With a new bag of Asian tricks, the wok has been fired and The Source is now hotter than ever. There were a few dishes I was itching to try and share with our readers. Here’s what I found sizzling:

Duck Bao Buns folded with lacquered duckling, hoisin sauce and cucumber. A sweet, doughy bite with a cool crunch makes these heavenly buns one of my favorite small plates on the menu. While visiting Beijing, Peking Duck was a topic of study for Drewno. Post research, he feels he has evolved this ancient Chinese dining experience into something more contemporary and easy to eat.

Crispy Suckling Pig is served as a small plate accompanied by a sweet bean paste and black plum puree. This signature dish is the product of a three-day process of deconstruction and reconstruction of a whole pig. After slow roasting, the meat is removed from the bone and the skin is made crispy separately. It’s Drewno’s secret to succulence. Once put back together and plated, this dish sends diners into squealing delight. After sampling suckling pig at a banquet meal in Shanghai, Drewno boasts with confidence that his pig is just perfect. I certainly agree.

Sheng Jian Bao is a new edition to the menu and a result of an intimate cooking lesson with a 64-year-old expert in Shanghai. Drewno watched over her shoulder as she carefully taught him to pleat each dumpling with precision. Ask for these pork filled treasures in the lounge and you be the judge. I vote some of the best dumplings in D.C.

Chili dan dan noodles are smothered in sweet, slow-roasted pork and flipped together with chili oil. Inspired by his visit to a hot-pot restaurant in the Xi’an region, Drewno is proud to present this spicy addition. The noodles provide the texture needed to offset the tenderness of the pork. Chopsticks down: you will finish the whole bowl.

Deals and Steals at The Source

While the dining room menu may throw the bill in the region of pricey, it is not necessary to break the bank at The Source. Small plates in the lounge, Happy Hour and Saturday Dim Sum Brunch are all open avenues to get your fork in some of the best Chinese food in the District.

Happy Hour

The deal: The Source offers a “food centric” Happy Hour catering to a sexy and diverse clientele. On weekdays from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m., I watched the lounge fill up with a collection of young professionals, food loving fools and museum goers. Amidst soft lighting, small-plates, intriguing seasonal cocktails plus a selection of 28 wines by the glass, The Source is a great place to chill-out after work or meet up with a friend. Plenty of suits and skirts make this Happy Hour a secret single spying spot.

The steal: Your choice of three plates for $20 (can also be ordered individually à la carte.)

Saturday Brunch

The deal: Forget pancakes, how about steamed buns? It’s time to switch it up and impress your family, friends and morning-afters with a trip to The Source for brunch. Saturday Dim Sum Brunch is another way to experience The Source without sitting down for a full dinner. From 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. guests may choose from 28 dim sum-style plates. While there is no special on drinks, why not go bold with a Bloody Mary in a pilsner glass? There are three to choose from: Classic, Shanghai Mary (spicy) and District Mary garnished with a half-smoke sausage.

The steal: Five plates for $30 or eight plates for $40

The Source
575 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, D.C. 20001
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