We tried La Familia earlier this month (or is that last month?) with Ron and Diane... very disappointing, awfully overpriced. The little cups of chicken soup served as an appetizer tasted like Goya packets; my rice and peas was bland and also seemed packet-made; Otis's Cubano was pretty small. It also took a realllly loooong tiiiiiiime to get our food. Which was fine, since we were having a grand time chatting, but not what you look for in a family-style Latino restaurant.

Next up, we're going to check out Viet Bangkok, the new Vietnamese/Thai place on St. John. Not because we need another Thai place in this town (Pom's opening on Forest, I think there's another one opening on Congress), but because Pho is the food of the gods. I'll report back. (I loved the Pho at Bottomz Up and was heartbroken when it closed due to excessive violence. Of course the atmosphere wasn't great, but good soup will make me forgive much.)

Otherwise we really haven't been doing a whole heck of a lot of eating out; too many vegetables to be responsible for.

I've added a little list of local food friends on the right-- let me know if you think I am missing anyone.

And happy (belated) birthday, Jenn!!!

Don't Drown Your Food.

All of you who grew up in the 70s know what I'm talking about-- the important PSA exhorting us not to overdo it on the sour cream and ketchup. Even back then, I remember wondering that someone felt ketchup overuse was such a terrible issue that they made a whole cartoon about it. In today's world, of course, where presumably the PSAs during Saturday morning cartoons remind kids not to smoke too much crack or become prostitutes or pimps or ad executives, the late-70s worries about excess condiment use seem incredibly quaint.

But, even in retrospect, I am still not sure what, exactly, was the reason behind the message. Was it health? Or just a general preference for plain baked potatoes?

Regardless, it was, simply, totally ridiculous, in my opinion. Sure, you don't want to destroy your palate with a cup of ketchup. But if someone serves you a pile of steamed, un-buttered, un-salted broccoli, as my parents were wont to do in my childhood-- well, I think pouring a nice splash of vinaigrette over that is perfectly justified.

Not to mention that sauces are the foundation of most world cuisines. Just because 'American' food eschews herbs, spices, rouxs (how do you pluralize that, French speakers?) and all gravies save those served on Thanksgiving or with Salisbury Steak doesn't mean that enhancing the flavor of perfectly lovely ingredients is somehow against God and Nature.

So. There.

On Friday I went out for drinks after work with a couple of work friends to Local 188 on Congress Street. We had a grand time, sitting at the bar and chatting about life. I was drinking a lovely red wine, Perquita I think that's how you spell it), and we had a few tapas as well.

A note about Local. Prior to their move to their new location this summer, we went there very frequently, often for brunch on the weekends. Then, during their closure over the summer, we got out of the habit. And after the reopening, a few friends of ours had horrible experiences-- mostly in the service arena. I always loved the waitstaff at the old location. They were sometimes sort of out of it, but always really sweet and thoughtful. Unfortunately, our reporters (who shall remain anonymous for their own protection) told us that their experiences involved extreme bitchiness, long waits, and, on one occasion, complete lack of food. (Evidently the waitress never put in the order.) As a result of these stories, we've been a bit reluctant to dine at the new location. Then, we tried to go for dinner a couple of weeks ago, and it was closed for a private party.

I have been to the bar on a few occasions, through. It's a gorgeous space, and really lovely to sit in.

Anyway, the original plan for Friday was for me to have a few drinks with my friends, and then pick up some thai food on my way home for Otis. However, the Dreaded Lazy Wine Drunk&trade: struck and I found myself still at Local with Monique, still sitting at the bar, and still chatting. So instead of trying to get my shit together, I just called Otis and had him meet us at the restaurant.

I should interject here that our bartenders were absolutely lovely. The first one, a woman who looked awfully familiar (maybe she also/used to work at the White Heart?) was very attentive, and thoughtful-- when Monique said she was very hungry, even though the kitchen wasn't open yet, she scrounged up a dollop of olive tapenade and some bread. Later, our second bartender, a man with very impressive mustaches (think Daniel Day-Lewis in Gangs of New York), was also great.

Before Otis arrived we had some tapas. Did I mention that already? If this post seems disjointed, it's because the three glasses of wine I had really went to my head, so my memories of the evening are somewhat disjointed as well. The combination of the wine and not enough food turned out really badly for me.

So. Tapas. Shrimp in garlic, and chourico. Both dishes were delicious, although I would like to complain that the shrimp, instead of the lovely little sweet Maine shrimp we used to get at the old Local, were big 'ol prawns. Still delicious, but I think the little ones are superior for soaking up the buttery garlic sauce. The chourico was perfect. The bread and olive tapenade I mentioned earlier was tasty, although the bread was not as good as the pile of shredded bread they used to give you-- this had a much more tender crumb and less body.

Then for dinner, I made the cardinal sin of not ordering enough food. I got a spinach salad, which was delicious, with calabrese chese and nuts... but it wasn't enough to soak up the wine, and I woke up at 5 in the morning with a hideous headache.

Those who did order enough had a very tasty meal; Otis loved his penne with romesco sauce, and Monique's roast chicken with white beans looked and smelled divine. She loved it.

All in all, it was a fun evening, and I'm once again jazzed on Local. But next time: more food, l less wine.

So we finally made it to Viet Bangkok on Saturday, with Jenn, Matt, and Eric. Supposedly there was going to be some karaoke later, which blessedly, was not the case.

Overall the results were mixed: high highs of deliciousness, and low lows of no food.

The space is unprepossessing, with all sorts of kitschy crap on the walls. (As an aside, this is one of the things I often dislike about family-owned Asian restaurants. I've been to extremely glam places that don't look like this-- but the default decor for a new Thai place seems to be posters, masks, glass sculptures, and very bright lighting. In this case there were two giant lobster whose eyes lit up.)

With five of us, we seemed to somewhat overwhelm the waitress, who was the only person working front of house. There were three other tables, as well, two of which featured couples sitting side-by-side and staring out into the room. I've always wondered about that set-up... one of the couples swapped when they got their food and began facing each other; but the other couple just stared and stared... it seemed like they had little to say to each other. Just odd.

Back to the restaurant! My digressions are particularly bad in the morning.

For some reason, prior to going to the restaurant, I was under the impression that it was a Vietnamese restaurant that served Thai food... it's actually vice-versa. The posters of Thailand all over the walls eventually tipped me off (although after I ordered my Vietnamese entree). Eric and I ordered pho; Otis got some other type of Vietnamese noodle soup; and Jenn and Matt shared panang curry and sweet and sour chicken. We also got crab rangoon and tod mun (little fish cakes) as appetizers. We ordered fried wontons as well but never received them.

That brings me to the biggest flaw of this restaurant-- the food arrive completely intermittently and with huge gaps. Eric's pho arrived first; then about 5 minutes later Jenn and Matt's entrees; then Otis's; then about 10 minutes later, my pho arrived. Everyone else was practically done. (In fact, someone at one of the other tables received their food before me.)

This is just, simply, unacceptable. I don't think I need to elaborate, really. It just sucked. I was really hungry and forced to steal green beans from the panang curry.

However, some of the food turned out to be absolutely delicious. The appetizers were great-- the rangoon, obviously not a real Thai specialty, is nevertheless one of my favorites, and this was light and fluffy. The tod mun were flavorful and perfectly cooked. (I should note they are supposed to be very chewy, which Jenn didn't like).

Unfortunately, the Vietnamese entrees were mediocre-- not great, not terrible. My pho didn't have the rich beef flavor it should have; Eric did not receive his tendon; Otis missed out on one of the components of his dish too.

BUT... the Thai entrees were just outstanding. The panang curry with tofu was perfectly flavored, rich but not too heavy, and full of tons of fresh and crisp vegetables. The sweet and sour chicken, never one of my favorite dishes, wasn't excessively sweet at all, and the sauce had depth of flavor (rather than glop).

So, all in all, I will definitely get food from Viet Bangkok again, under certain circumstances: take out, and Thai only.

(I noticed on the menu that they have larb, which is a minced salad that, if done right, is one of my all-time favorite dishes. I'm going to try it and report back.)