Sliders: Yes They [Blackfinn] Can

I'd written a mildly scathing post about Blackfinn American Saloon, where my colleagues and I lunched today. I decided to start over, though, and give you something a bit more positive. It's not that the food or service was terrible, it was just bewildering. I don't feel the need to harp; I'm not unhappy. It was just weird, watery split pea soup (which is, if I'm not crazy, normally luxuriously thick and velvety) and an odd and ultimately unfulfilling skewer experience (my fellow staff had mixed bags, themselves).

But these two lunch fails were bookended with decisive lunch victories. The boss ordered some mix'n'match slider apps, and although the beef patty sliders were mundane, the pulled pork alternatives were EXCELLENT. Tender and juicy, neither too sweet nor too fatty, and well stuffed for the minute vehicle of their little buns. Hungry Sam stamp of approval.

On the flip side, the end of the meal brought sliders of another variety. Ice cream on warm cookies!!! Now, being a Portland Sea Dogs fan (wooo AA baseball!), I know these to be knockoffs of our own Sea Dog Biscuits. But these were pretty legit -- the warm cookie got the ice cream melting just enough and the cup you see in the center is filled with hot fudge.

All in all? Blackfinn, I'm worried at your inconsistency and perplexed at some odd choices. If you don't do it well, keep it off the menu. But definitely continue making sliders of all varieties.

Please.

A Mad-Cap Catch Up! (Part I)

Well, for better or worse (mostly better; good company and warm weather have been the primary culprits) it has been a tad longer 'twixt posts than you, my legions of loyal readers, might have hoped. To get back up to speed, I will put up a two-part post running headlong through some of the most delicious and interesting dishes Hungry Sam has had the good fortune to purchase, craft, or stumble across in the time since we were together.

Circa Bistro Steak Frites at Circa at Dupont, Connecticut and Q St NW

I confess, I don't frequently eat steak. I am a carnivore, and often pretend to be a dinosaur as I tear into a turkey leg or chicken breast. However, I do generally try to limit the amount of beef in my diet. The reasons are several and of shifting priority, but between health, moral, and budgetary concerns, maybe I'll just say that steak is a treat.

A treat for when my parents are in town, as they were at the end of April. We went to Circa at Dupont, which though noisy, crowded, and employing a truly awful DJ or whatever, had filled their menu with a stupendous and wondrous array of options. I opted for a steak slathered in a black-pepper reduction (fresh-ground pepper in red wine simmered to thicken and sweeten), and in the true glory of a perfect just-past-rare steak, it seized every taste bud, the flavor seeming to curl little flavor-tendrils over and through my entire mouth. (The fries were meh.)

As always occurs at family dinners, we all tried each other's food. Literally everything was excellent; JHK's Greek pizza, my Mom's crimini mushroom ravioli and my little brother's cheese platter were particularly worth recording.

Mekhleme (Iraqi beef hash) at Busboys and Poets, 14th and V NW

Ok, so the Mekhleme wasn't anything to make me dance and sing. It's not that I have a multitude of Iraqi breakfast dishes with which to compare it; the hash was just a little blander than I'm used to for ground meat, tomato-based recipes. However, it was reasonably well executed and the poached eggs (enormous in the picture, I know) were excellent. I note this, because I CANNOT, for the life of me, figure out how to correctly and handily poach eggs without some sort of as-seen-on-TV tool. It's something with swirling boiling water...whatever.

Also, let's face it. Busboys and Poets is friggin' AWESOME. The decor is superb, the bookshop is cool (I almost finished a graphic novelization of the autobiography of Malcolm X after the meal), we didn't have to wait a moment as the U St location is enormous, and literally every other thing I ate then or since (I've returned thrice) is superb and well-above par. Definitely food to make Hungry Sam sing and dance. I've a bunch of pics of other dishes here, but I want to highlight one in particular: the Sweet Fuji Apple and Gorgonzola with Fig Spread on Walnut Raisin Bread.

I know. WOAH.

This, my friends, this, is the place to be. Though a tad sweet for my breakfasting tastes, the sharp tang of the creamy gorgonzola with the sweet crunch of the fujis paired impeccably with the wonderful texture of the sweet, dense bread. Also, this is a wicked good picture:

God. I am salivating just looking at it. Visit me and one will be yours.

Tower of Ironman Pale Ale at Pratt Street Ale House, Baltimore

I have searched, to no avail, for a Gritty McDuff's-style beer pub which sells primarily its own brews and wide selection of them. We found one, but it took us travelling northaways to Baltimore. Here, before the first Red Sox vs. Orioles game of the season:

It's called a tower. We got a total of 6 pints out of it. It was very good, strong beer. I will return here, to this wondrous place, on Sunday (the day after my birthday WOO!) when the Sox again face the orange-birds, or whatever.

Well, dear friends, once more into the breach of food frivolity we venture. Part the second of this update to arrive shortly and forthwith.