It has been quite the week over at FreshFarm Markets. Their Dupont Circle Farmers Market was named one of the best farmers markets for travelers by CNN (congratulations!!), highlighting a consumer’s ability to connect with the people who grow their food.  And on Thursday, one of their other standout markets, the FreshFarm Market by the White House, will host a stop on the Toyota Farm to Table Tour to kick off National Farmers Market Week (August 1 through August 7th).  The event will feature a line up of DC area chefs, displaying their skills at various demos throughout the market.  These demos will of course use the fresh produce, meats and dairy available at the market and will include free samples for market shoppers.  Even better, shoppers can get culinary inspiration for the many seasonal items the market has to offer.  Chefs will include David Varley of Bourbon Steak DC, Nora Pouilon of Restaurant Nora, Kyle Bailey of Birch and Barley and Ryan Wheeler of Restaurant Eve – just to name a few! 

And as if chef demos weren’t enough, Four Seasons Nursery will be giving away potted culinary herbs (for those who want to flex their green thumb) and there are chances to win prizes, including a culinary trip to Santa Barbara.  The fun starts at 3 pm on July 29th (that’s tomorrow) and lasts until 7 pm.  So take a work break or head over after work for a celebration of the vibrant farmers market community in DC!

The FreshFarm Market by the White House is located at 810 Vermont Avenue, NW.  For a map of the market location, click here.

My blogger buddy Sarah Jackson has been traveling around New Zealand and chronicling her tales for all of us to see (and read with mounting jealousy).  I have never actually met Sarah but we’ve formed a virtual friendship based on our shared love of cooking, absurd observations on life and bending the English language to suit our humorous needs.  I also implicitly trust Sarah’s palate (yes, I blindly trust a stranger’s taste buds…that’s the internets for you).  So when she waxed poetically about something called a flat white, I was intrigued.  Intrigued enough to search around the aforementioned internets for a local establishment that sold a close approximation of a flat white.

Oh wait…you don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? Don’t be ashamed…I didn’t know what the hell Sarah was talking about when I first saw her flat white blog post.  A flat white is an espresso based drink that originated in New Zealand and Australia.  Steamed milk (apparently pulled from the bottom of a steaming pitcher…no, I don’t know what that means either) is poured over either a single or a double shot of espresso and handed over to an unsuspecting person to drink.  In Australia, it’s customarily served over a single shot but the kiwis do it differently.  They want you to temporarily lose the ability to blink, so they pour the milk over TWO shots of espresso.  Unlike a latte, there isn’t a lot of foam in a flat white (I guess that’s why it’s called a FLAT white), so you really get the essence of the coffee.  No hiding behind milk or other fillers here.  The result is a smooth and lovely drink that jacks you up so high, your hands start to shake.  Or at least that’s what happened to me.

I found two places in DC that served a flat white: Cassatt’s Kiwi Cafe in Arlington and Filter Coffeehouse & Espresso Bar in Dupont Circle.  I decided to try Filter first because, well, it wasn’t in Virginia.  And their reviews online were all pretty positive.  So on a very hot morning, I headed down to Filter…to get a hot coffee drink.  No one ever said I was logical.

Filter is in the bottom of a rowhouse on a quiet street in Dupont Circle.  If it wasn’t for the sidewalk sign, I would have walked right past it.  When I walked in, I immediately noticed the small amount of seating and worried I wouldn’t have a place to relax over my first flat white.  I ordered a flat white and almond croissant and tentatively told the barista it was for here.  I stood at a little bar near the entrance as I waited for my order to be made.  Just as “flat white” was called out, not one but two small tables opened up.  I snapped one up eagerly and situated myself.  As anyone who has eaten with me knows, I almost immediately take a few pictures of what I’m about to consume.  This was no exception, especially since I’d promised to report back to Sarah about my first flat white experience.  But I quickly put away my camera (sorry I didn’t get more pictures of Filter itself) so I could concentrate on this pretty cup of coffee before me.

I took a tentative sip and my eyes flew open.  This was a STRONG cup of joe…it was one step away from mainlining coffee straight into my arteries.  But there was absolutely no bitterness to the drink.  It had a soft, lovely texture and a rich, complex flavor of coffee beans.  I didn’t have to wade through a mountain of foam before hitting upon the actual espresso.  It was right up front, waving at me and offering me a chair to sit a spell.  Before I knew it, I’d polished off the entire cup (granted, they come in a small tulip cup).  Which naturally meant I had to order another…and another.

Since I’d brought along a book, I decided to slow down a bit and just enjoy the coffee and the relaxed atmosphere of Filter.  Even with a limited amount of seating, the staff doesn’t try to rush out the customers.  The baristas are friendly and I noticed regulars were greeted warmly.  And did I mention the free wi-fi (no password necessary)? I lingered for a while, engrossed in my book and the velvety goodness of my flat whites (let’s not discuss how many I consumed…it’s just better that way).  As I was ordering a flat white to go (don’t judge), I started talking to the owner, Rasheed.  He opened filter back in March after having moved from New York with the intent to open a coffeehouse.  I asked him if he liked living in DC and he said he did, even if he had been hit by a car while riding his bike recently (ouch!!).  We talked about my flat white interest, New Zealand, Germans and their love of unique eyeglass frames and the fact that I may never blink again.  Not that I cared.  I’d found my new favorite coffee drink and a nice little coffeehouse to feed my addiction.  I just hope my heart slows down soon…

I would like to take you readers on a trip back into Shaw Girl’s past, specifically to the year 1990.  I was a sophomore in high school, still rocking very high hair and questionable fashion choices.  I had a major crush on one Jason Perry, but my mother wouldn’t let me go out on a date with him (he drove a van and in her eyes that meant he had designs on deflowering her baby).  I hung out with a group of boys who fancied themselves a band, but they mostly just hung out in my best friend Daryl’s shed.  I was heavily into Anne Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles books (remember children, vampires DON’T sparkle), which caused some of my teachers to worry I may be into the occult.  I wasn’t…I just imagined Lestat was a smokin’ hottie (NOT Tom Cruise).

Mostly, however, I immersed myself in music.  And by music, I mean the world of hair metal.  Oh yes my dear readers, I was a disciple of the school of hair bands. Motley Crue, Bang Tango, Scorpions, Ratt, Cinderella, Faster Pussycat, L.A. Guns, Gene Loves Jezebel…all of their tapes (yes TAPES) had a place in my duffle bag of music. I stayed up late to watch Headbanger’s Ball on MTV so I could get a glimpse of my favorite bands. I poured over magazines like Circus, Metal Edge and Spin…mostly for items to add to my Guns n’ Roses scrapbook (yeah, you read that right…don’t judge me if I still have it).  And I one day dreamed that I too would take Tawny Kitaen’s place on a car hood in a music video.  I know that’s wrong, but at the time, I didn’t care.  Tawny was my hero…that is until I saw this video:

Yes, the song objectifies women and is brazenly sexual. Yes, Jani Lane (the lead singer of Warrant for the uninformed) is now a struggling alcoholic. And yes, I have no idea why American Gothic makes an “appearance” in this video. But back in 1990, none of that mattered. All I cared about was the catchy beat and the fact that the line, “So I mixed up the batter and she licked the beater” somehow seemed naughty. And back then, all I needed were dirty words and a scorching guitar riff to get me dancing.

All of this was going through my head as I was pitting cherries for a homemade cherry pie.  I’ve always wanted to make a cherry pie from scratch but never cottoned to the idea of pitting four cups of cherries.  I also didn’t like the idea of buying a cherry pitter, as it’s a unitasker.  But after reading all of the other ways to remove the pit from a cherry, I decided to borrow a pitter from Brian.  And man, am I in love!

The pitter shoots the pit right through the cherry with minimal damage to the cherry itself. Before I knew it, we had pitted all the cherries and I was ready to move on to making my pie. Which may or may not have included a few Cherry Pie dancing interludes.

On this day some 29 years ago, The Boy made his debut in this world.  He didn’t come in tap dancing or wearing a fedora, but I still think it was a milestone.  So let’s take a look at what exactly makes The Boy tick:

• He loves movies…and when I say he loves movies, I mean he LOVES movies. So much so, he created a blog where he can ramble…I mean discuss his love of film.
• He didn’t always wear hats. It wasn’t until a woman told him he could carry off a fedora that he placed his first chapeau atop his head.  I think it was because he was trying to get her into bed.  Whatevs…
• He loves Batman…a LOT (please see the cake candle above). 

• He’s a kick ass uncle. His nephew is hilarious and The Boy seems to thrive when the two get together to play. 
• He’s VERY handy…he made our fucking dining room table!! I want him to make a bookshelf in the shape of a TARDIS. He keeps pretending he can’t hear me.
• He doesn’t like mushrooms…or sushi.  It’s a texture thing he claims. I think he’s a loon.
• He makes our cats talk…and most recently recite very bad poetry related to noms.
• He’s a huge Kurosawa fan. And he loves nothing more than to introduce others to Kurosawa’s body of work. 
• It takes a LOT to get him angry.  Believe me, I’ve tried.
• He’s got the most beautiful eyes I think I’ve ever seen. And he uses them to his advantage (oh yeah, I’m on to you).
• He’s a very patient, level headed driver…even in DC.
• He has a thing for cool, out of the ordinary t-shirts.  Like this one.

• People assume he enjoys a bit of the herbal refreshment (if you get my drift) because he’s so laid back. He doesn’t…he’s just cool like that.
• He’s hands down one of the nicest, sweetest guys you will ever meet.

One last thing that makes him tick? He LOVES bananas…so much so, it’s almost…well bananas.  So when Nikki Rappaport made banana cupcakes for the Bake Sale for Haiti, I knew what I was going to make him for his birthday.  As luck would have it, Nikki’s boyfriend is also a banana fiend and she made him a banana layer cake with cream cheese frosting for his birthday.  She gave me the link to the recipe and told me he would love it.  She was dead on.  I made the cake for The Boy on Saturday and he went…well bananas. 

So this post is for you, my sweet, sweet Boy.  Happy Birthday and thank you for being the most kick ass partner a girl could ever have.

Pea season is in full swing here in DC and I couldn’t be happier. Peas are one of my favorite vegetables and I practically OD on them when they are in season.  Last year, I froze a huge batch of fresh English peas which lasted me almost all Winter.  But nothing beats picking up a big container of fresh peas from the market on a Saturday morning.  Last Saturday, Garner’s Produce had English peas in the pod for the first time this season.  Although I like shelling peas, I was happy to pick up two boxes of shelled peas for a recipe I saw online during Snowpocalypse.  The recipe was from one of my favorite celebrity chefs, Mario Batali.

Mario’s recipes always highlight the flavors of his ingredients, letting the most mundane of them shine brightly.  I admit peas are not all that glamorous…they tend to get the short end of the stick really.  Whenever you see a child on television, gloomily sitting over his half eaten dinner, there’s a high chance peas are on his plate.  I personally blame that kid’s parents for this situation. Peas, when not properly cooked, can taste bland and downright mushy.  But when you do right by them, they will do right by you.  And this recipe truly knows how to seduce the lovely flavors from fresh peas.

I whipped this dish up for dinner tonight in less than 40 minutes…BUT I made my pappardelle from scratch. If you just use store bought pasta, this comes together in under 20 minutes.  If you don’t have access to fresh peas, frozen will do in a pinch. But for the love of God, stay away from those canned monstrosities in the “vegetable” aisle of the grocery store.  Trust me on that one…

On Sunday evening, at around 5:13 pm, I had a frosting related nervous breakdown.  This breakdown involved near tears, a wayward icing knife and a big ol’ mixing bowl of butter cream.  How did I come to such a lowly state? Let’s start from the beginning (times are an approximation…it was all a haze):

On May 13, 2010, as I was sitting at my desk at work, the idea of making a strawberry layer cake popped into my head.  Thinking I could use my favorite vanilla cake recipe, I decided to pick up some strawberries on Saturday at the 14th & U Farmers Market to turn said cake idea into a reality.

On May 15, 2010, I pick up some lovely strawberries from Garner’s Produce for said cake idea.  The rest of the day is spent enjoying the National Zoo, free wi-fi at Tonic (I’ve been told I get way too excited when I find a wi-fi hotspot…I don’t disagree with that assessment) and pointing out issues with the latest Dr. Who episode.

On May 16, 2010 (starting at 9:25 am), I spend the morning lazing about and thinking about my cake baking/decorating strategy.  I read over Joy’s post on frosting a cake, making sure to note all the tips she suggests for a painless, beautiful frosting experience.  On more than one occasion, the thought, “This won’t be hard” pops into my head.  I will live to regret that flippant attitude.

At 12:00 pm, I start chopping up strawberries while listening to Warner Herzog’s interesting spin on documentary narration.  I keep waiting for him to burst out into “This is Sprockets!”

At 12:13 pm, I make a strawberry filling using strawberries, water, sugar and corn starch.  When I think it’s thick enough, I take it off the heat and set it aside to cool.  This turns out to be a mistake.

At 12:35 pm, I painstakingly set up the mise en place for the cake ingredients.  Since I’m using my go-to cake recipe, whipping up the cake batter is relatively painless.  This lulls me into a false sense of security as I place the cakes (my dumb ass only used TWO cake pans, when I should have used three…I’m a moron) in the oven and sit down to pay full attention to Herr Herzog.

At 1:27 pm, I check on the cakes and am surprised to find they are still jiggly in the middle.  This raises the first red flag in my head, as it usually only takes 25 minutes to bake these cakes.  I reset the timer for five minutes and go back to the couch.

At 1:34 pm, I check again on the cakes…still jiggling like Pamela Anderson’s breasts.  Panic begins to creep up in the back of my neck.  I brush it aside, thinking, “Perhaps I should have poured some of the batter into a third pan.”  I reset the timer for another five minutes.

At 1:36 pm, I check on the strawberry filling…and discover it hasn’t thickened at all! What the hell?!?!? The panic pushes its way back up to my neck, almost laughing at me.  I’ll just add more cornstarch, I think.  I set the pot back on the stove, add another teaspoon of cornstarch and start whisking.

At 1:42 pm, the cakes are STILL jiggling in the center, the strawberry filling looks like red snot and I haven’t even started on the butter cream.  And where the hell is the pedestal to my cake stand??????

At 1:47 pm, the cake starts to firm up BUT it’s also starting to get a little bit more brown than I’d like.  Wait, is that side starting to burn a little??? AND WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THIS STRAWBERRY FILLING????

At 1:53 pm, the cakes are finally done (cake testers confirm this).  In desperation, I throw the strawberry filling into the refrigerator, hoping the cold will thicken it up a bit.

At 1:59 pm, I start on the butter cream, which is also a go-to recipe.  All is well as I’m whipping up the batch of frosting.  That is until I realize the resulting batch won’t be enough to frost the entire cake.  That damn panic’s now up to the nape of my neck, taunting me.  I scramble around to make another batch.  Then I’m struck with “inspiration” and decide to put some of the strawberry filling into the butter cream.  This will turn out to be another mistake.

At 2:13 pm, I sit down again and pray that the voices of panic will SHUT THE FUCK UP!

At 3:03 pm, I start making our lunch for the week: cream of asparagus soup with green garlic.  I am trying my hardest not to think about the cake or how the hell I plan to decorate it.  Especially when I discover I CAN’T FIND MY PASTRY BAGS!!!! AND WHERE THE HELL IS THE PEDESTAL TO MY CAKE STAND?????

At 4:35 pm, I decide to start frosting the cake.  At this very moment, I also can’t seem to find my flat icing knife and instead must use the bent one.  In my mad dash through our gadget drawer, I pitch the box grater out in hopes of finding my flat icing knife.  When I don’t find it, I leave a trail of gadgets on the counter as I walk away with the bowl of frosting.  The Boy is left to put the gadgets back into a semblance of order…he senses the coming storm and wisely decides to stay out of my way.

At 4:45 pm, I create a fortress of frosting on the top of the first cake layer to keep the filling from oozing out.  This will turn out to fail miserably.  I try to take a few pictures but am tired, have poor lighting at my dining room table and overall, just don’t give a shit anymore.

At 5:13 pm, I curse the day I ever thought this was a good idea.  Strawberry filling is oozing out like a festering wound.  The butter cream is separating because SOMEONE thought adding some filling to it would be a good idea.  The damn frosting won’t stay on the sides and The Boy is just looking on in horror.

At 5:27 pm, I realize I’ve lost the battle and just slather on the last of the frosting.  I get the cake to look as normal as possible, top it with strawberries and half heartedly attempt to take pictures of it.  The lighting sucks no matter where I put the damn cake and I just don’t care at this point.  I cut a slice off for The Boy to eat and walk away in a daze.

I faintly hear him say it tastes good, but I’m too far gone.  I’m in pastry shell shock and all I can do is stare at the wall and occasionally blink.  At some point I take a bite of the cake and I’m snatched out of my stupor.  It tastes incredible.  The frosting is delicious, even though it doesn’t stick to the sides all the time.  The filling is bursting with strawberry goodness and it (finally) thickened to the perfect consistency.  And the cake itself is moist and vanillalicious.  I just wish it didn’t look like a four year old’s craft project.

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.

On Saturday morning, Brian, The Boy, Mazzie and I headed over to the 14th & U Farmers Market bright and early.  We got there a wee bit early and were dutifully waiting in line at Panorama when we almost witnessed two older gents get into fisticuffs over line jumping.  Luckily no one used one of Panorama’s baguettes as a sword and we were all able to get our loaves without further incident.  After securing our carbs, we walked around the rest of the market for inspiration.  The Boy had picked us up some wonderful strawberries from the Truck Patch, which Brian was going to use later for our libations.  I also got some goat cheese to go along with the Gryffon’s Aerie ground beef I bought on Thursday at the Market by the White House.  Asparagus, spinach, ricotta and green onions rounded out our farmers market haul for the week.

While discussing the recipe for the cocktail, Brian suggested using Meyer lemons in the lemonade for a twist.  Since we were only a Circulator ride away from Whole Foods, we decided to pick some up.  Before parting for the day (The Boy and I had tickets to see Iron Man 2…which I loved…because it had electric whips…and Scarlett Johansson in a cat suit), we agreed that Brian would come over for cocktail making, burgers and Dr. Who around 5 that night.

Later that same evening, Brian arrived with strawberries (he had also picked some up that morning at the market), the Meyer lemons and a neatly, handwritten recipe for the cocktail.  I dutifully cut up the strawberries for the drinks and he quickly got to work.  Strawberries were sugared and pureed; lemons were juiced and lemonade was made; straining occurred; a few artful shakes (I really wish I’d gotten video of Brian’s stellar cocktail shaking abilities) and BAM! We had cocktails!  And they were good…perhaps a little too good.  I may or may not have gotten a little tipsy…and a hammock was involved (don’t ask).

This is the perfect warm weather cocktail and can be served without the alcohol (that last part will confuse my Twitterati).

Recipe: Strawberry & Meyer Lemonade Cocktail

Ingredients

• Strawberry Puree:
• 1 cup hulled strawberries, chopped
• Sugar to taste
• Lemonade:
• 2 tbsp sugar
• 2 tbsp Meyer lemon juice (can use regular lemons – may require an adjustment of the sugar)
• 3/4 cup water
• 2 oz vodka

Instructions

1. Sprinkle some sugar over the chopped strawberries (the amount of sugar depends on how sweet the strawberries are by themselves) and allow to sit for 5 to 15 minutes.
2. Puree the chopped strawberries with an immersion blender until smooth. If you don’t have an immersion blender, you can use a regular blender or your own arm muscle.
3. In a separate container, combine the water, lemon juice and sugar. Stir to dissolve the sugar.
4. Place a small strainer over the top of the container with the lemonade. Pour some of the strawberry puree into the container. Using a spoon, stir the puree around as it oozes through the strainer. This step helps to remove a majority of the strawberry seeds from the final drink.
5. Continue this process until all of the puree has been added to the lemonade.
6. Stir the puree to completely incorporate it into the lemonade. Add 1 part vodka to 3 parts strawberry lemonade (in this case, 2 ounces of vodka for 6 ounces of the lemonade).
7. Shake over ice and serve!

What better way to usher in the new season at the Market by the White House than with a HUGE batch of paella?  Famed chef Jose Andres was present at the opening day of the FreshFarm market in the shadow of the White House…along with a paella pan the size of a Buick.  The market, which opened in October last year, was a welcome sight on Vermont Avenue on such a lovely afternoon.  The market boasts new vendors this year, including my 14th & U favorite, Panorama Bakery, and Gryffon’s Aerie, purveyors of heritage breed, pasture based artisan meats. And it just so happens Gryffon’s Aerie supplies Bourbon Steak DC with their AMAZING steaks and ground beef (I’m a HUGE fan of Bourbon Steak…HUGE).

Rhubarb was front and center at Blueberry Hill, along with arugula flowers! I had never tried arugula flowers before, but gave them a little taste test and loved them! The lovely, peppery bite of arugula leaves are the first thing you taste when you pop the flowers into your mouth.  I had no idea what to do with the flowers, but I picked up a bag anyway.

Spring Valley had rows of luscious strawberries, which you could smell from a mile away! Dotted along the strawberries were asparagus, kale, spring onions and these lovely salad greens.

I was happy to see some other familiar vendors that were new to the market, including Dolcezza Gelato, Potomac Vegetable Farms and Buster’s Seafood!

I was particularly happy to see Keswick Creamery at the market, especially since they are no longer at 14th & U on Saturdays.  I’m not gonna lie…I was giddy to get my hands on a tub of their Quark cheese.

After I snapped up the Quark, I headed over to Gryffon’s Aerie to scope out the farm that raises my hands down favorite steaks in DC.  Although I was tempted to buy a few steaks for the weekend, I decided to start small and picked up a package of their ground beef.  Ann Yonkers, co-director of FreshFarm Markets, strongly suggested I use the ground beef for burgers and well, I’m easily swayed when it comes to beef.

In need of milk, I headed over to Clear Spring Creamery and tried some of their drinkable chocolate yogurt. A woman standing next to me was also giving the drinkable yogurt a taste test.  “This tastes just like liquid chocolate pudding!” she exclaimed as she licked the sides of the cup.  As I was deciding what to get, I noticed Clear Spring also sells eggs! This market really does have everything, I thought as I got a quart of milk.

There were carbs galore around the market: baguettes and loaves of sandwich bread at Panorama; French pastries and cookies from Praline (a new-to-me vendor); and mounds of artisan breads at Quail Creek Farm!

I ran into One Bite at a Time and her wonderful friend while staring at the paella. We all had a sample of the huge dish…a great primer for our upcoming workouts!

Before I bought more than my little arms could carry, I bid the Market by the White House good day, vowing to come back often.  The FreshFarm Market by the White House is open every Thursday from 3 to 7 pm until November 18!

Much to my sheer and utter excitement, the 14th & U Farmers Market opened for the season this past Saturday.  To say I’ve missed the familiar sights and sounds of this little market would be an understatement.  Some of my favorite Chesapeake foodshed farmers sell their amazing fruits, veggies, meats and cheeses at the corner of 14th & U.  And I’ve been dying for some of Panorama Bakery’s fresh, sliced multigrain deli bread all Winter long.  So on Saturday morning, I was more than eager to grab my shopping bags and head down 14th Street to mingle among my favorite vendors.

We got to the market a bit early because I was anxious to get my hands on the seasons first crop of strawberries from Garner’s Produce.  The brief spurt of Summer like weather in the beginning of Spring led to an earlier-than-usual bounty of my favorite berries.  As we walked up to Garner’s table, I could smell the fragrant aroma of the berries wafting towards me.  I wanted to dive right into the table of red jewels, but decided to show a bit of restraint.  Garner’s Produce also had some big, floral bouquets of spinach that instantly inspired an idea for a simple, cool spinach salad (more about that later).

I had resolved to pick up a bag of stinging nettles in an attempt to be more adventurous (yes, I consider trying new produce adventurous) and found some at Mountain View.  Rich in iron and calcium, stinging nettles have been touted as a wonder food, especially for women.  Unfortunately, the word “stinging” doesn’t really make people jump to cook with this plant.  When touched with bare hands, raw stinging nettles have tiny hairs (called trichomes) that turn into needles and can release several chemicals that result in a stinging sensation.  These stinging agents are neutralized once they are cooked, even for only a few minutes.  So it was with care that The Boy and I picked out two bags of them and placed them in our shopping totes.  While chatting with one of the Mountain View vendors, she suggested a recipe for French Nettle Soup.  I filed it away along with her recipe for a Nettle-Walnut Pesto Crostini.

Asparagus was at almost every vendor table, much to my delight, as were radishes:

And just when I thought I was going to faint from farmers market happiness, I stumbled upon sunchokes AND the season’s first rhubarb at Kuhn Orchards!

Kuhn also had fragrant and delicate lilac stems and my favorite pink lady apples.  I couldn’t resist the lilacs, especially after inhaling their hypnotic scent.

And speaking of plants, there were plenty of herb and vegetable plants for the urban gardener.  Still a little gun shy after last Spring’s failed windowsill herb garden, I opted to wait before buying any more plants.

We picked up some eggs from Pecan Meadows, who also had duck and goose eggs for sale.  Even though I was tempted by the duck eggs (lately they seem to be on every restaurant menu in DC), I knew I needed chicken eggs for some whole wheat pasta I planned to make.

After I picked up a fresh loaf of Panorama Bakery’s bread (and sniffed and squeezed it lovingly), I ran into Robin Shuster, the market manager.  That’s when I learned Keswick Creamery sadly had to bow out of all their Saturday farmers markets.  Robin assured me Keswick would be at the Bloomingdale Farmers Markets on Sunday and told me she was looking into finding another cheese vendor.  And just when I thought we were done, Robin insisted I pick up some pea shoots to try.  Since she’s never steered me wrong, I took her advice and bought a bag of them from Mountain View before heading home.  I decided to add the pea shoots to an asparagus and goat cheese pizza idea I had floating around in my head.