Buzzy Bust

On the recent trip to DC for the big birthday bash, there were four of us, with four different opinions and needs. I had to do the radio show each of the days I was there, and two of the sisters wanted to spend all their time at the Great American State Fair. The last of the four had recently had knee surgery, so she didn’t last as long as the others. After the show I got a text to pick up that one of us where I had dropped them off. The other two returned to the fair.

With just two of us and a day that was still young, we went in search of the Minetta Tavern, which someone reliable had told me recently opened an outpost in DC. Since I am the only one on these trips who really cares about food, I don’t usually bother to search out hot places. Just for yucks, I did it for DC, and came up with a list of ten, knowing I wouldn't set foot in any of them.

Minetta Tavern held possibilities of content, and that interested me. My companion was along for the ride. We GPSed the location of Minetta Tavern and discovered a neighborhood in the capital I likely would never have stumbled on otherwise. It was called the Union Market, and I felt this was a neighborhood that had certainly gentrified since I lived there after Katrina. The market itself is one of those old ones, but the neighborhood that has sprung up around it was fascinating.

I don’t know if I was so mesmerized by the neighborhood that I wasn’t paying attention to the GPS, or if the GPS was simply befuddled by the place, but after making three passes in a circle, we both realized that we had been encircling the restaurant, though we never did see a sign.

After giving up on this project because it was getting dark and I was low on gas, we went back to the neighborhood of the hotel, which is called City Center. In making the block to arrive at the hotel in the right spot, I noticed a restaurant called Olio e Piu. By this time, I was in need of comfort food, so that sounded good.

We stepped inside and found a place that looked appealing with a low buzz of energy. A line of two-tops offered tabes placed too close to each other, as they almost always are, and we were seated next to a father and son. A conversation began with my question about a small plate of bread and olive oil with a ramekin of olives in the center.

The father informed me that this plate was complimentary, which I thought was a nice gesture. The conversation further revealed that these two were a father and son from Beverly Hills who had come to the capital for two nights for the birthday. We had a most interesting conversation after the man revealed his Persian origins. 

It was his entrée that confirmed my suspicions about this place. His expensive steak looked rather ordinary upon closer insoection. It was tough to make any judgments about the food here from his 10-year-old son’s bowl of spaghetti.

The plate of bread and oil was as good as it looked, especially the contents of the olive ramekin. I have decided I love warm olives, and the oil infused with herbs and tomato was divine. It was this tiny ramekin that got me thinking about the importance of good olive oil. It has started a long ongoing conversation about olive oil on The Food Show (airs 2-4 pm weekdays on WGSO 990AM)

We ordered Frito Misto because if I see that dish on a menu, I have to have it. Loosely translated from Italian, it means “little fried things”, and that is exactly what it is. Usually, it is served as a pile in a paper cone. The little things are shrimp and other sea creatures and pieces of vegetables. Mushrooms, shrimp, and calamari are most common. This was served on a plate, and it was nearly all calamari, which my sister-in-law mostly ate, bringing the remainder to the other two sisters for a late-night snack. I had two shrimp from that plate and a piece or two of carrot and string bean, which had shed the coating. The mayo-based dipping sauce had a hint of mustard to it, and it was very good.

I also ordered arancini, which came as three large balls of rice with a bit of cheese inside. I liked the red sauce here, but I wished there had been more of it for these oversized appetizer balls.

The big order of the meal was the tableside Cacio e Pepe. I have been in love with this signature Roman dish since I first had it in Rome in 2014, but my obsession with it started when I read about it years before that. The dish is simple and sublime, but doing it right requires great skill, and a pedigree of Roman birth, or so it seems, to me at least.

It sounds simple, with only three ingredients, but anyone who has tried to make it, including me, reports disastrous results. For many years, I have considered myself the self-appointed Cacio e Pepe police. It has made its way to menus all over now, but I have only had one made the real way, which is: Boil spaghetti. When it is al dente, dump the hot, wet pasta into a hollowed-out wheel of Pecorino Romano cheese and start tossing furiously. Add coarse-ground black pepper. Voila!

Easy, right? Yet it is usually spectacularly disastrous, resulting in a ball of congealed pasta. In short, a mess. For this reason, I never see it done the true Roman way. On this evening, they brought the big wheel to the table on a cart, with pasta from the kitchen, including ingredients for cheating, like butter and olive oil. I don’t blame them for cheating; everyone does it. Except real Roman chefs. 

The only real version I have ever had was at Annadele Plantation in Covington. I recognized it immediately as the real deal and asked who was in the kitchen. They laughed and said, “Funny story. This guy from Rome…”

The Cacio e Pepe version at Olio e Piu was fine, just like all the others, but not really Cacio e Pepe. But how far wrong can you go with creamy spaghetti and black pepper?

Olio e Piu is a restaurant that shares a trait with a few others I have encountered. You walk in, and the place is visually appealing with a buzzy energy, and it’s exciting to think of the meal ahead. The meal ahead turns out to be just fine and nothing more. And after all those external factors gets you so excited. This phenomenon frustrates me, so I'm glad it doesn’t happen too often. Usually, I expect a meal that is just fine, and that’s what I get. And that is enough for most people.