The Pita House

The Pita House

By Andrew Kahn

Unless you are looking for it, The Pita House is very easy to miss. It has very little aesthetic appeal from the outside. If my sister wasn’t so passionate about Lebanese cuisine, I probably would not have heard about the restaurant, much less eaten there.

Before committing to eat at the Pita House, I did some research. The virtual tour on the website projects the image of a cozy, well-decorated restaurant. The tables are set with white tablecloths and a small vase of flowers sits on each table, successfully improving the overall ambience.

My sister and I strolled down King Street on a Sunday afternoon, looking for the restaurant. Our expectations were high; our preconceived notion was that we were going to have a great meal in an even better environment. However as we walked into the restaurant, we were surprised by what we saw.

The dining room was a single long room with about twenty tables. The walls, the tables, the carpet were all the same neutral color. The room blended into a bland, yellow blob. The walls were mostly bare, save for a couple pictures hung in seemingly random places. The far end of the dining room opened up directly into the kitchen, where we could hear chefs working in the background. This was definitely not the same room the restaurant advertised on its website. My immediate though was that we were in the wrong restaurant.

Once our waiter came over to greet us, I asked him if we were at The Pita House. He responded that the pictures we saw were from the old location. They expanded at the end of last summer and have not got the atmosphere up to the quality that it was in the old restaurant. He promised that while the restaurant may not be as aesthetically pleasing as it used to be, the food was still equally delicious. He left us with the menus and went to tend to the five other tables filled up at the time.

The menu was extremely lengthy. I am not very experienced with Lebanese cuisine and the extensive menu was overwhelming. Most of the entrées range from ten to twenty five dollars. My sister ended up ordering a traditional souvlaki sandwich for me while she ordered a falafel sandwich for herself.

The Pita House stands out as one of the best Lebanese restaurants in the D.C. metropolitan area according to the Washington Post. It is renowned for its chef and ownerTarek Moukalled. When he opened the Pita House in 1992, Moukalled was the head chef. Since then, he has become more of an owner and less involved in the kitchen. In 2006, Moukalled won the Virginia state lottery and invested his winnings in a few other restaurants including Lebanese Village in Crystal City and Marshall’s Bar and Grille in Washington D.C.

Shortly after we ordered, our dishes arrived. My souvlaki sandwich came wrapped in a wax paper. I felt like I was at a fast food joint rather than a well-respected restaurant. After I took the covering off, the sandwich almost immediately fell apart. Cubes of beef tumbled out of my sandwich and onto my plate. The small pieces were tough and required a good deal of chewing. Despite the unfortunate start, the flavors of the meat complimented the lettuce, onions, and Greek dressing in the sandwich. The sandwich left me slightly disappointed after I had read the raving reviews online.

On the other hand, my sister extremely enjoyed her falafel sandwich. She frequently remarked on the meal’s delicious flavors. She explained that “most of the time falafel is really bland but they spiced this really well.” She finished her sandwich in about half the time it took me to eat mine.

One thing that stood out to me during our meal was that for a restaurant named the Pita House, the pita was not very good. It was hard, cold, and flavorless. Compared to the pita at Primo Greek Family Restaurant, Pita House’s pita is pitiful.

For those looking for inexpensive, decent quality Lebanese food, the Pita House is the place. While I would steer clear of the souvlaki sandwich, the rest of the menu should be enjoyable to anyone interested in Middle Eastern cuisine.

Worms Of Silk

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Worms of Silk
By Rebecca Wheeler

At the tail end of King Street in front of Old Town Alexandria’s Potomac River pier, painting students, curious tourists, and a man with an easel climb the stairs to an old weapons manufacturing plant. The now-automatic doors slide open to reveal an aquamarine torpedo, once a product of the factory, now a symbol for the since-converted Art Center; ironically, the old sub missile now stands for Creation at The Torpedo Factory, which attracts upwards of 500,000 visitors a year with its 82 artists studios, six galleries, two workshops, and the Alexandria Archaeology museum. In addition, the Art League School offers art classes of all sorts at the Art Center.

On the second level of the industrial building, artist Susan Sanders stands behind the glass show case of her Torpedo Factory studio, #206, holding a needle-and-thread in one hand and a series of inter-connected colorful fabric tubes in the other. She brings both items up to her be-spectacled face, bites on her tongue as she scrutinizes each, plunges her needle into the top of the fibrous mass, and finally knots the thread in two gruff and graceful loops; she is “putting the finishing touches” on her latest Silkworms creation. Susan is the designer of three different jewelry lines, all under the label “Silkworms”, featuring gold and precious stones, intarsia (stone inlay), and fiber work. This particular masterpiece, she informs me, is made of handcrafted felt and dyed silk fabric, sewed around a particular type of chord, which is what gives it the distinctive tubular shape. I can’t help but think of the woolly worm-like strands of a Rastafarian’s dread-locks. “Well actually,” she says in a matter-of-fact voice, “felt is basically just wool plus some soap, water, and a little elbow grease.”

Susan is a reserved, modest woman, clad in a handsome black-knit sweater that clings at her angular shoulders, with a dark maroon-and-purple felt scarf (that she made herself, of course). She raises her eyebrows, ever so slightly when she says a little, which is enough to hint at the hours of studio time and television time she spends tending to her wool fabric—and it shows. On the wall behind her, countless necklaces in felt, silk, and her newest incarnation, “ultrasuede,” hang from a mounted metal sheet by the unique painted, resin-cast magnetic clasps that hold Susan’s necklaces together. “This is my livelihood,” she says, gesturing to the studio around her.

And it has been ever since 1974, when Susan stumbled upon the opportunity to become a resident artist at the Torpedo Factory, which was reopening as a newly renovated haven for artists. She had just graduated from Carnegie Mellon University, where she studied architectural design, and was planning to move to a remote part of Kentucky to design refrigerators when she learned of the open studio and gallery space near Washington, D.C. It proved an easy decision for Susan, one she has never questioned, considering she has maintained her studio at the Art Center for 37 years.

Her love for design and creation dates back much further than college, however: for “as long as [she] can remember, [she’s] known that [she’s] wanted to make things and sell them for a living.” Susan’s parents, an accomplished Seamstress and a graphic designer, taught her the importance of craftiness and ingenuity at an early age. Growing up around such creativity gave her “sewing skills and an appreciation and an eye for architectural lines.” When she first tried her hand at jewelry making, however, it was “immediate love. And why do something you don’t love anyway?”

Luckily, pursuing her life’s passion as a career has proven a professional pay-off for Susan, who is more of an anomaly than ever in this recessing economy, especially in the art world. Her “bold, geometric, and often asymmetric designs” have earned her numerous awards, including First Prize in the American Gem Trade Association Spectrum competition for gemstone design in North America. “[Her] work is shown throughout the U.S. and has recently been exhibited in Moscow, Russia, and Seoul, South Korea; in addition, she’s “been featured in books on jewelry design and many magazines in the U. S. and abroad. Some of [her] non-jewelry pieces are currently part of the State Department Arts in Embassies program.” Her work ranges from $250-$20,000, a relatively normal price range for handcrafted art, so she tells me. Something tells me that she is again being modest—Susan is no ordinary craftswoman.

I was initially surprised, but not at all confused to discover that there is still a market for such things as her delicate, sometimes custom-commission engagement rings and even, handcrafted boxes to house them. If I weren’t a lowly high school student, I would spend my savings on a random assortment of her notions. But even having the opportunity to watch Susan work for a short time, I feel lucky to have learned even a little about her craft. Looking around at all of her heavy-duty diamond-cutting and sanding tools, and boxes upon boxes of random fabric scraps, I wonder aloud if she would ever allow students to intern with her in her studio. Sighing slightly, she explains that she once taught classes for the Art League but she just doesn’t have the time, let alone the motivation. “I barely have the energy to take care of my cat, poor thing,” she says, showing me a picture of her cone-headed kitty who “scratched her own eye” in Susan’s absence.

The daily life of “the artist” blurs the lines between personal and professional activities, resting somewhere in between the two. Even Susan admits that her art seeps into every facet of her existence—she makes some of her own clothes as well. I jokingly ask her if she has a family that she’s neglecting as a result of Silkworms. Again she sighs, “just the cat,” she says, matter-of-factly. I leave it at that, still completely in awe of her resigned perseverance and brusque precision. She has started sewing the magnetic clasp on an earth-toned felt and silk-plaited neck cuff, and I can’t help but notice how the corners of her mouth turn up ever-so-slightly as she gazes down at her incomplete masterpiece, critically. I recognize the loving glance of a hardened mother, determined to send something better than herself into the world.

I came to the Torpedo Factory looking for a story—I leave feeling overwhelmed by the talent I witnessed in just one of the 82 artist studios the place has to offer. I can’t even imagine how much progress Susan will have made in just a day or two, how many more pieces of her soul will be magnetized to the wall the next time I visit.

I’ve been aimlessly saving my money for a while now (probably in an attempt to create some small personal victory for myself amidst the grueling college process)—and I’ve finally found what I’ve been saving for, without even meaning to: a purple ultrasuede necklace that Susan insists will “tickle my neck with those purple worms of silk that are just perfect for my complexion.”

Come to The Torpedo Factory any day of the week from ten A.M to six P.M, nine on Thursdays, to check out Susan Sanders’, or any of the other Resident Artists’ amazing work. Brava Silkworms. And thank you to the Art Center for keeping the dreams and crafts of artists like Susan alive.

Virtue Feed & Grain

Virtue- Feed and Grain

By Andrew Kahn

Before I went to Virtue Feed & Grain, I asked my friends who live around Old Town if they had heard of the brand new restaurant. The vast majority of responses I received were something similar to, “Isn’t that the restaurant that took the place of Olsson’s?”

Virtue is located on 106 South Union Street, the previous location of Old Town’s oldest books and records store. Like many residents of Old Town, I have many memories of going to Olsson’s and looking through the plethora of books. Towards the end of 2008, Olsson’s bookstore closed after thirty-six years. Its website pays homage to both the recently deceased owner and the bookstore. Over four hundred and seventy four testimonials reminisce over experiences shared at the bookstore. Olsson’s sudden closing had a noticeable impact on the community.

It did not take long for restaurateurs Meshelle and Cathal Armstrong, owners of Restaurant Eve and The Majestic, to snatch up the location for their next venture. The name “Virtue Feed & Grain” came from the history of the two-story warehouse, which used to be a feed house for animals back in the 1800’s. The remodeling of the building was extremely extensive; it took nearly a year and required a large number of local artisans and craftsman.

Armstrong’s goal was to maintain the history of the feed house and the bookstore while giving it a modern feel. They only used wood from the time period of the building’s origin. They also reused wood from the bookcases and staircases of Olsson’s in order to create the dining room tables. Bricks were removed from the walls and moved in the middle of the first floor in order to create a boundary between the bar and the dining room.

My father and I decide to give the new restaurant a try on a Sunday at noon. After we step through the large, old wooden doors, its clear that we should have called for a reservation. The 350-seat dining room is completely full and there’s a thirty to forty-five minute wait for a table. However, in order to maintain an Irish pub feel, Armstrong made the bar area first come first serve, and my father and I were able to get the very last table.

We sit down at a small, handcrafted table for two. In front of us is a long bar with approximately thirty stools and an extensive selection of alcohol. Three large flat screen TVs are mounted on the wall behind the bar and each of them show a different NFL game. Fans of each team crowd around the TV showing their team’s game and cheer without getting too rowdy.

Since it is noon on a Sunday, our option is to either order the fixed price brunch (twenty-three dollars) or order from the bar menu. After a glance at the bar menu, we unanimously decide to order from it. The short menu includes many classic bar items while giving each a slight Irish twist. We order Spiced Buffalo Wings to share and we each get a Cuban sandwich. I was interested to see how head chef Ryan Wheeler would give these two very non-Irish dishes the Irish twist that Armstrong aims for.

While we are waiting for our meal, I ask our waitress, Melissa, if she had been here before it switched from bookstore to restaurant. She replies that she had just recently moved to the D.C. area from Buffalo but she adds that almost every customer asks her about Olsson’s. Before departing to get our food she also says that the Buffalo wings are amazing and coming from a native Buffalonian, I knew they had to be good.

The wings and the sandwich arrive at the same time on handmade wooden plates. The wings are both deep-fried and broiled, which gives them a crunchy yet juicy texture. They are also drenched in a chili-based hot sauce. The wings are neither too hot nor too mild; they had just the right amount of kick. I can honestly say the wings from Virtue are the best I have ever had.

The Cuban sandwich is also delicious. It is a simple sandwich of ham, cheese, pickles and mustard yet the ingredients are anything but basic. The meat and cheese taste fresh and not refrigerated. The bread also is made locally, which adds to the fresh flavors. It comes with a salad and homemade potato chips. The salad is a spinach salad with classic Irish mustard dressing. The dressing was different but it complimented the potato chips well.

After we finish our meal, we quickly walk upstairs to look at the renovations of the second floor. In the back there is a lounge with complimentary arcade games, pool tables, and leather chairs. In the back corner hang two signs: one red “Olsson’s Books and Records” and another black “Walter Roberts Hay, Grain, Flour and Feed.” If any restaurant were to take the place of these Old Town landmarks, I am glad it was Virtue Feed & Grain.

Faccia Luna

Faccia Luna

By Andrew Kahn

At the south end of old town, down the block from Southside 815, is the relatively small American trattoria, Faccia Luna. While the name (“Face on the Moon”) has no real significance to the actual restaurant, it successfully creates the aura of an Italian pizzeria.

Immediately upon stepping through the large wooden door of Faccia Luna, patrons are greeted by a hostess. In the front of the restaurant is a medium sized bar with roughly ten seats. Older men in suits, who seem to be treating themselves to a drink after a long day of work, occupy most of the barstools. A couple plasma TVs are mounted on the wall behind the bartender. One displays a college football game on ESPN while the other shows Herman Cain’s latest speech on Fox News.

The hostess leads us to the side of the bar to the dining room, which consists of fifteen wooden booths. The booths are almost completely occupied; my party got the last one available. Framed pictures of Italy are spaced out around the room. The pictures along with the earthy Tuscan colors of the walls and the tables create a well-decorated Italian setting. In the three booths around us, couples are having a romantic dinner date. This is exactly what I expected because the website states that “Faccia Luna is the perfect first date destination and a sentimental favorite.” While about half of the customers are couples on dates, the other half are families with children of all ages. Faccia Luna appeals to everyone from young children to the elderly.

While the menu has plenty of options, the choice for most people is the same: pizza. My mother, father, and I decide to share the special pizza for the night, which comes with applewood smoked bacon and brocolli. In addition, I order an appetizer from the specials for the night as well: scallops with tomato sauce and bruschetta. The waiter takes all of the drink and food orders without writing it down. He remembers all of the tables’ orders solely by memory.

Before I came to the restaurant, I looked online for information about the owner. I found little to no information. While we are waiting for our meals, I ask the waiter about this mystery man. He tells me that two frat guys from Penn decided to open a pizza place together in Old Town. They have had so much success that they have three different Faccia Lunas, and three other restaurants named Luna 2, Boulevard Woodgrill, and Overwood. The other two Faccia Lunas are located in Arlington, Virginia and College Park, Maryland. All three of the other restaurants are located in Old Town and are all very successful.

After about ten minutes, my scallop dish arrives. The presentation of the appetizer is very well done. Five scallops sit on a dish of tomato sauce with smaller pieces of bruschetta intermixed in the sauce. On the side sit two very large pieces of Italian bread. The first taste of the scallops does not impress. There is a subtle grilled flavor but the by itself, the scallops are rather bland. It needs the robust flavor of the tomato sauce to lend taste to the otherwise flavorless shellfish. The bread also improved the dish. The thick slices of Italian bread went well with the scallops and served as a sponge to soak up excess tomato sauce.

Right after I finish my appetizer, the pizza arrives. I can smell the bacon before the waiter sets it on the table and the smell alone was enough to get my mouth watering. The pizza lived up to the expectation of its smell. The bacon was delicious and perfectly cooked. Often when I order bacon on a pizza, it is way overcooked and tastes like it was refrigerated after being cook for the first time. Faccia Luna knows how to cook a bacon pizza the right way. Also, the fresh broccoli helps to ease the guilt of scarfing down a few slices of the bacon covered masterpiece. My only complaint is that the pizza crust is a little too thick. Besides that, the pizza is arguably the best you can get in Old Town.

For all who are looking for a great pizzeria with good atmosphere, Faccia Luna is the place.

 

Dishes of India

Dishes of India

By Andrew Kahn

Dishes of India has one of the most unique entrances of any restaurant I have ever seen. It is located in Belle View shopping center, just outside of Old Town. The front door opens to a staircase leading down and walls covered with mirrors. At the bottom of the stairs is a table covered in a colorful silk cloth with several statues of the Hindu deity Ganesha, the Lord of New Beginnings. Also on top of the table is a bowl filled with peppermint to cleanse the pallet prior to the meal. As you turn right past the table and into the main dining room of Dishes of India, the restaurant hopes you are leaving behind preconceived notions of Americanized Indian food and starting a new beginning.

The owners have done an excellent job of producing an Indian aura in the dining room without going overboard. Indian pictures and tapestries cover the pink walls. Diana Vreeland, a noted columnist stated, “Pink is the navy blue of India.” The dark red carpets match the luxurious red chairs.

My parents and I are seated at one of the fifteen white tablecloth covered tables. Almost immediately, an enthusiastic Indian waiter takes our drink orders and delivers our menu. The menu contains a wide assortment of Indian food appealing to both vegetarians and meat-lovers. All meals are reasonably priced and while all the items are written in their original Indian name, they are described well enough so that the customer knows what they are ordering. We decided to order family style in order to taste as many dishes as we could.

The waiter gave us several recommendations of the chef’s best dishes. The head chef is Ramanand Bhatt who has over forty-five years of Indian cooking experience. Our waiter described him as a decorated chef with several awards including recognition for the Chefs in America Association as one of America’s outstanding chefs. After listening to an overwhelming list of recommendations, we picked out a few dishes and sides.

The common motif in several reviews by publications like Washingtonian and the Washington Post is that Dishes of India is a hidden gem. While it is well known around Old Town, it is very rarely crowded. Of the fifteen tables, four were in use during my visit. There is also a bar in the corner of the dining room, which I have never seen occupied. Since it is not overly busy, the waiting staff is extremely attentive and the atmosphere is very relaxed and quiet.

Without many other orders to fill, the chef sent out our food within fifteen minutes of ordering. We could hear the sizzling dishes before the waiter had left the kitchen. After our meal had arrived, we passed the dishes around and put a small portion on our own plate as is common in Indian restaurants.

The first meal I tasted was murg karahi, which is chicken, tomatoes, green peppers and onion in a thick curry sauce. The small metal bowl holding the entrée sat in a holder that was above a small candle flame. While adding to the ambience, the candle warms the meal so it does not get cold during the dinner. The chicken is marinated overnight in a mixture of yogurt, coriander, cumin, garlic, and ginger. All of these ingredients are evident in the first bite of the murg karahi. I’m usually not a fan of curry-based dishes but the other spices complimented the curry beautifully. The chicken also tasted fresh and was extremely easy to cut with a knife.

My mother, an unofficial vegetarian, ordered began bhartha, an eggplant dish roasted with tomatoes, onions and spices. On first glance, the dish of what seemed like brown mush did not look appetizing. The word “bhartha” refers to the mashing of the ingredients prior to the cooking. However, having agreed to try everything, I placed a small portion on my plate. I ended up getting thirds of the dish by the end of the meal. Similar to the first dish, the coriander, cumin, garam masala, and ginger are in perfect proportions.

Lastly, my father ordered tandoor murg, a chicken dish cooked in the traditional tandoor oven. The tandoor oven is a clay oven, which gives meat a unique flavor of Northwestern India. The chicken arrived sizzling on an iron skillet. Like the murg karahi, the dish served a practical purpose in addition to adding to the atmosphere. The pink tandoori chicken was amazing. The meat nearly fell off the bone and the garam masala, cumin, and garlic added to the flavor of the clay oven perfectly. I have had tandoori chiekcn numerous times, including in India, and Dishes of India remains my favorite.

I would recommend Dishes of India to all who are looking for amazing, inexpensive Indian cuisine.

 

AguaViva

AguaViva

By Andrew Kahn

The blue lights emanating from the two-floor restaurant and bar on King Street make passersby stop and stare. They provide a change of pace from the average, dimly lit restaurants that line the heart of Old Town.

Upon stepping through the doorway, I am transported from suburbia to South Beach, Miami. Blue is everywhere: the walls, the lights, the seats and the tables. Upbeat Latino music is constantly playing in the background. The atmosphere provides a relaxing Latin American experience unrivaled in Old Town.
Our waiter, a short Hispanic man by the name of Jose, allows us to choose where we would like to sit. The restaurant is empty besides the two young couples dining in separate corners. At the table is a basket of tortilla strips and a small dish of salsa. The salsa is just hot enough without being overbearing. After informing my parents of the Tuesday night special on half-price bottles of wine, Jose leaves us to look through the menu.

Staying with the Latin American island theme, the background of the menu is an aesthetically pleasing sunset on a beach. The first page is dominated by a wide variety of ceviche. Entrées ranging from fifteen to twenty dollars fill the second page.

José strongly recommends the ceviche commenting that it’s the owner’s specialty. Mike Cordero, owner and head chef, opened this fairly new restaurant in July 2011. He has owned multiple restaurants around the area. Cordero comments, “I get to really flex my cooking muscles at AguaViva. My focus is the fresh seafood I’ve enjoyed through the years in Puerto Rico but with a modern American touch.” Cordero takes command of the food served at AguaViva and incorporates the flavors of his heritage.

Following José’s recommendation, I order a classic ceviche and a Cuban ropa vieja. While we wait for our meals, several parties make their way through the restaurant and up the stairs at the back. Curious, I ask José what is upstairs. He responds in broken English, “The bar is upstairs. There are more people on weekends.” The bar attracts a small crowd on weeknights but can pull large numbers on Fridays and Saturdays as evident in the pictures on the restaurants website.

The ceviche arrives in an oversized martini glass.Ceviche is essentially raw fish marinated in a citrus (lime or lemon) and red peppers. Layered with spinach, onions, corn, and sweet potatoes, the ceviche is placed right in the middle. After taking the first bite of AquaViva’s ceviche I can honestly say, it is the best I have ever eaten. There is an enormous amount of flavor in each bite. The rich lime and cayenne pepper marinade overwhelms the senses. The serving size is just right: providing enough fish while still leaving the customer desiring more.

After the outstanding ceviche came the scallops in a pomegranate sauce. The pomegranate was delicious and contrasted the salty scallops very well. However, the scallops were rather heavily breaded and fried, which took away from the natural flavor of the fish.

Throughout the dinner, the service is superb. José constantly brings my sister and I refilled drinks and is always around to pour my parents more wine. While this attention may be due to the slow night at the restaurant, the good service should be praised regardless.

A short while after the scallops, my entrée arrives. On first glance, I was not sure they had given me the correct order. The ropa vieja I am expecting is much different than what looks like rice and beans in front of me. However, the tastes make up ten-fold for any points lost in presentation. The skirt steak is marinated and cooked to perfection: it separates easily and is not too chewy. The tomato-based sauce compliments the meat very nicely and brings out the indigenous flavors of Cuba. Fried plantains line the outside of the dish and provide the meal with a slight flavor of fruit. The combination of the steak, sauce, rice, and beans brings out amazing flavors yet the more subtle tastes of cumin and cilantro are still present.

The serving size is on the large side. Having already consumed ceviche and a scallop appetizer, I am unable to complete the entrée. However, I ask for it in a to-go box and am excited to eat the leftovers the next day.

AquaViva is Miami Fusion at its best. The unique, modern restaurant combines the best tastes of the Caribbean and Latin America into an amazing culinary experience. Without hesitation, I will recommend AquaViva to all in need of good eats.

Southside 815

Southside 815

By Andrew Kahn

As I open the second door to the entrance of Southside 815, I am taken aback by the intense noise. Sixteen TVs are squeezed into a bar the size of a narrow hallway. Dedicated fans, donning their favorite team’s jersey, huddle around the TV that is showing their favorite sports game and cheer loudly. Being that it is Sunday, NFL games take up the majority of the screens and rowdy fans clog the narrow hallway. Barely able to hear myself think, I make my way through the crowd and over to the hostess, who looks to my mother and asks her if she would like to sit inside or outside.

“WHAT?”
“INSIDE OR OUTSIDE?”
“OUTSIDE PLEASE!”

The hostess seats us at an unmade table for two in front of the restaurant. She places two napkins, silverware, and menus on the table. As I look through the menu, I notice the ever-present hum from the traffic on the street in front of us. The crescendo of a motorcycle engine temporarily stalls conversation while we wait for the inevitable decrescendo.

Choosing our meal is not difficult. The menu is filled with southern dishes like Po’ Boys and chicken fried steak. The entrees range from $5 to $20 dollars. Comfort food is readily available at Southside 815, yet the nutritional value is worrisome if one were to eat there regularly.

We both order one of the two specials: I order a steak Montreal seasoning and my mother orders a pasta dish. Before leaving, the waiter asks if we would like a breadbasket. What he did not tell us, but is written in small font on the bottom of the menu, is that the breadbasket, which is complimentary in most restaurants, is an added charge. We declined, not interested in filling up on expensive bread before our main dish arrived.

While we waited for our entrees, I could not help but notice the diversity of patrons Southside 815 attracts. At the table across the aisle, two elderly couples are on a double date. On the other side is a very large family with toddlers. In front of us, a group of young men eat burgers, one without an arm and a leg and wearing a shirt with ‘War-Wounded Marine’ on the front.

When our dishes arrive, I was pleasantly surprised about the presentation of my entrée. The asparagus leaned meticulously on the filet which was sat upon a throne of mashed potatoes. The meal looked so nice that on first glance, my fifteen-dollar entrée seemed as though it should have been thirty dollars.

Ever since I was a little child I have incorporated the idea of delayed gratification into my eating endeavors. I always eat the least appetizing things first followed quickly by the item I cannot wait to eat. The subsequent item tastes much better by juxtaposing it to the first item. My experience at Southside 815 is one of the exceptions to this rule.

The first bite of the asparagus breaks off cleanly: the telltale sign that it has been roasted to perfection. There is just the right amount of salt seasoning, which provides the asparagus not only with flavor but texture as well. Starting off the meal so well, I quickly transition to the steak, anticipating the best.

After I stab my fork into the middle of the filet for leverage I begin to saw away a small piece. The plate shifts and the table shakes as I struggle to cut through the tough meat. The medium-rare steak I had asked for is practically well-done. The Montreal seasoning is overwhelming. Not only is the salt and garlic too strong, the peppercorn and red pepper flakes make the steak too spicy. The meat did not have flavor and it is apparent that the chef attempted to force flavor into the meal using spices.

Similar to the asparagus, the mashed potatoes are also surprisingly delicious. Unlike the steak, they have enough salt and garlic with out overpowering the taste of the potatoes. The skins of the red potatoes are left in, which provides substance to the dish.

My mother is not completely satisfied with her pasta dish either. She remarks that the sauce is decent while the shrimp and chicken taste as though they have no flavor. They seem like they were recently frozen and are tasteless imitations of meat.

Southside 815 is a decent bar and restaurant for the price, but the food definitely leaves something to be desired.