A Look at Ted’s Bulletin

I’m not usually one to get excited about a new restaurant opening in DC, mostly because of the sheer volume of new restaurants that crop up in the Nation’s capital.  But on Friday, Nikki Rappaport tweeted about the newest restaurant from the minds behind Matchbox DC – Ted’s Bulletin.  Nikki linked to an article about Ted’s Bulletin in the Washington City Paper, which I immediately clicked on out of curiousity.  Matchbox had been tweeting about Ted’s Bulletin recently, but for some reason I never connected that it was a new restaurant (in fact, I thought they had something to do with Ted Talks – and no, I don’t know why).  After reading a few articles about the idea behind Ted’s Bulletin and checking out their menu, I was intrigued.  Co-owners Mark and Ty Neal named Ted’s Bulletin after their father, who was known to serve up down home, comfort food to friends and strangers alike.  Their aim is to create a fun, unpretentious atmosphere with familiar foods that conjure up feelings of home.  Uhmmm…and they have milk shakes.  That was enough to motivate me to seek out Ted’s…well that and the mac and cheese.

On Saturday, after a day at the Zoo, The Boy and I met up with Brian at Ted’s for dinner.  We arrived at 6, thinking we would have to wait a while for a table.  I looked around the front room, noticing both the art deco bar and the pastry case.  Thinking I would have time to scrutinize the front area more, I almost offhandedly went to the hostess station to put our name on the wait list.  Imagine my surprise when the hostess seated us right away, even though Brian had not yet arrived.  As soon as we sat down, The Boy noticed one side of the dining room wall was occupied by a screen playing the original King Kong.  Considering his absolute love for this film, it’s a wonder he was able to continue contributing to the conversation.  And even though I’m not a huge fan of the movie (I’m getting death stares for even thinking that, mind you), the touch of classic movies splayed across the wall set the tone for the entire restaurant.  And with each passing moment, the surroundings and the service only cemented that first visceral response to Ted’s.

The main dining room is one long space, divided into three parallel rows of seating.  The booths are a rich, mahogany wood overlayed with an eye catching tufted marigold padding.  Overhead is a big skylight, giving the dining room a bright and warm glow.  I looked around and noticed the hostess station was a replica of a company directory board from an old American building.  That’s when Brian mentioned a lot of the accents came from the 1928 Philadelphia Convention Center – including the lamps doting the room.  The attention to detail at Ted’s is exacting, reflecting just how much of the Neals’ spirit went into creating this restaurant.

We were presented with the menus, which are printed like a weekly newspaper.  Prominently featured on the front page is a picture of Ted Neal, resplendent in his (I believe) Navy uniform.  Clearly this is a restaurant that doesn’t take itself too seriously, I thought as I perused through the menu.  I briefly reviewed the breakfast and lunch menus, making a mental note to come back and try both meals at Ted’s.  But both The Boy and I had worked up an appetite meandering through the Zoo all day, so I zeroed in on the dinner options.  And the options screamed “comfort food”: country fried steak, meat loaf and spaghetti and meatballs; side dishes of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes with gravy and baked beans, to name a few.  The descriptions under each item, however, suggested a slightly more sophisticated approach to these familiar favorites.  The meat loaf is made of angus beef and topped with a Mingo County ketchup glaze and the Brussel sprouts are tossed with blue cheese and thick cut bacon.  I settled on the country fried steak, the pull of my Grandmother’s South Georgia cooking making it impossible not to.

Our server (and I am very sorry I didn’t remember her name) came by and nicely explained a few things about the menu.  She pointed out that the kitchen was not yet ready to serve breakfast all day.  She did, however, mention the Breakfast burger was available should anyone have a craving for a morning twist on their meal.  She also explained that the roasted chicken wasn’t available and apologized in a way that was neither fawning nor dismissive.  When going to a recently opened restaurant, one expects a few growing pains when it comes to menu offerings and service.  But because our server was such a professional, the few issues with the menu were handled nicely.  She offered suggestions to ease any possible disappointments and highlighted the menu standouts.  We all decided on getting a milk shake, me going for the Oreo variety and The Boy zeroing in on the banana, peanut butter and chocolate one.  Brian, after much consideration, opted for the root beer float (okay, not really MUCH consideration).

The shakes came in tall glasses, accompanied by the metal shaker and a long spoon to scoop up every last bit of shake.  Made to order, the shakes are clearly made from real ice cream and in my case REAL Oreos (not those Fakereos my mother tried to pass off to us kids).  I can wax poetically about the creaminess of the shake or the generous chunks of cookie dancing throughout it. But let’s just get down to brass tacks: that shake was DAMN good.  Much to Brian and The Boy’s surprise, I finished off the glass way before anyone else at the table. Lucky for me, I still had some leftover shake in the container to go with my dinner.  Which arrived looking like this:

I made a beeline for the macaroni and cheese and was instantly pleased.  A creamy blend of four cheeses, the mac and cheese was a salute to my Grandmother’s kitchen.  Down to the bread crumb topping, the macaroni and cheese WAS comfort personafied.  Although it was hard to turn away from it, I moved from the macaroni and cheese to the bacon and blue cheese Brussel sprouts.  The sprouts were cooked perfectly: tender yet solid with bits of almost burnt leaves throughout.  The blue cheese was generously sprinkled along the sprouts, leaving no doubt in the eater’s mind of its presence.  The cheese served as a wonderful culinary foil to the thick chunks of bacon (mmmmm…bacon) and the “green stuff” (Brian’s phrase for Brussel sprouts).

Before I hit the country fried steak, I noticed The Boy hadn’t said a word since his plate was placed before him.  Granted, he tends on the quiet side, it was still unusual for him to be that quiet.  When I looked over at him, I realized he wasn’t talking because his mouth was otherwise preoccupied with pork.  He was going to town on the ribs, having already sucked several bones clean.

“So, are the ribs good?” I asked, staring at the graveyard of bones piling up on his plate.  His response? A grunt, a nod and a casting off of yet another clean bone.  Brian had also dug into his meat loaf and macaroni and cheese, noting that although both were very good, they were a bit lukewarm.  I hadn’t really noticed the temperature of the food until he mentioned it. And while the meal was by no means cold, it wasn’t as hot as one would expect.  But considering how hungry I was, I was a bit glad that I could quickly dig into the food placed before me.  I chalked it up to a few opening kinks in the kitchen and plowed on through my meal.

The whole idea behind country fried steak is to take a tough (read: cheap) cut of beef and render it edible by deep frying the hell out of it and topping it with a rich gravy.  When I cut into Ted’s version of this steak, the quality of the meat was noticeably better than what my Grandmother used.  It was tender, yet clearly sturdy enough to stand up to the battering and oil bath of deep frying.  The breading was crispy without a hint of grease, a minor miracle for any country fried steak.  The gravy wasn’t as heavy as the usual sawmill gravy that accompanies such a steak.  Instead, it was a slightly sophisticated white gravy with hints of black pepper and herbs (I think I tasted a fresh parsley note…but don’t quote me on it).

Around the time I was struggling to finish off the last of the country fried steak, I looked up and saw the front room had started to get packed with diners waiting for their turn.  I also noticed that Ted’s has something a lot of DC restaurants lack: enough space for people to wait comfortably to be seated.  From the wide spaces at the bar to the open foyer, you can wait for a table without feeling like you’re sitting in a stranger’s lap.  And throughout our meal, even as the crowd of people waiting grew, not once did our server make us feel rushed. In fact, she encouraged us to take our time and not rush through our dinner.

At this point, I was pretty much ready to pop and it was evident my dining companions felt the same way.  Our server returned to the table and offered to tell us about Ted’s selection of desserts, baked goods and pastries, all of which can be ordered to go.  When she mentioned the housemade pop tarts, I was intrigued…until she got to the very last dessert item: 7-Up pound cake.  Brian and I both looked at each other in astonishment, as neither of us had heard it mentioned for years (let alone at a restaurant above the Mason Dixon line).  My Grandmother was famous in Southern Georgia for her 7-Up cake with its lemony glaze and that pull compelled me to order one to go.  It came in a plain, brown paper bag – something any good Southern cake would be expected to travel in.  As I write this post now, I’m breaking into that 7-Up cake…and my Grandmother would definitely be proud of it.

It is obvious Ted’s Bulletin is going for a specific concept, something that usually spells disaster for a restaurant.  But with it’s concentration on making classic fare amazing and creating a laid back and whimsical atmosphere, Ted’s succeeds.  I haven’t had a restaurant make me smile this much since Bourbon Steak DC.  And while Bourbon Steak does upscale without the snootiness, Ted’s does comfort food with grace and sophistication.  And the cherry on top? This morning, The Boy (who graciously paid for our dinner) mentioned that the entire bill only came to $78.  For the amount of food we three plowed through, I was amazed it didn’t cost more.  Granted, none of us got a cocktail, but for the quality of food and service we received, I was surprised at the affordability.  Even with the few menu hiccups, Ted’s Bulletin managed to make one helluva impression on this Southern girl.  And considering the myriad of restaurants I visit but don’t blog about, the very existence of this post says it all.