Market recap, Ghib review (#3; I'm a bit obsessed)

I'm writing from my couch because I'm stiff as a board and utterly exhausted today; as such I'm fully prostrate and gratefully so. All for good reasons and in good ways, but daaammmnn! I love this couch; it's leather, old now (one of the first purchases T and I made before moving into our first real home), the perfect combo of firm-squishy. It has all manner of child-based crumb in its crevices, the pets have left their own marks too. Presently, I'm cozy under a soft, bamboo blanket that is the perfect shade of blue; Percy's head is resting on my thigh, and he's snoring contentedly; my left triceps caught on the pillow on my way down so is kinda hung up there but I'm too tired to deal with it; T made me a coffee; my hair is crying out for a washing but maybe later.

Yesterday's market was a good one. Not the most hoppin' of years passed, but I was beyond flattered by the number of folks who came to find my table. Many were repeat customers from last year, some are devoted blog readers who I'd never been lucky enough to meet in person until yesterday, some were friends I don't see nearly enough in regular life, one was a high school friend I've not seen since graduation, two were new clients who -until yesterday- I'd only spoken to via phone and email. What joys, all of these moments and meetings.

I was also situated across from Liz Chabra of Ms Curry; she's a yoga instructor, ayurvedic chef, and an UTTER delight. She and her sous chef, a wonderful man whose name I'm sadly blanking on right now, couldn't have been more fun to hang out with. I bought a jar of Liz's wonderful Tamarind Chutney, they consumed great quantities of my red beans and rice. Our proximity to each other was one of the most fortuitous parts of yesterday, and I hope to see them again.

Most of the collard handpies were bought, a single slice of plum tart left (just what I was hoping because I really wanted it), half my jam stash cleared out and so forth and so on. Dear T helped me pack everything up, and after we got home, put what needed to go in the fridge there as quickly as possible, and rested a tad, we took ourselves out for an early dinner at Ghibellina.

Oh.my.dio. Though I've never been disappointed in Ghib, last night's meal was my best ever. It was perfection in every bite. I felt blissed out the whole time; a happy drug equal parts food, drink and ambiance. My favorite spot, at the horn of the U-bar, were taken so we sat down at a real table (imagine that, coming from us!), a cozy two-top nestled in a romantic alcove. I love banquettes so immediately took that seat; also, that allowed me to look out over the seemingly endless bar and the laughing cadre of patrons packing it to the brim.

It was possible the waitress was surprised by the speed with which I ordered a glass of the Feudi Fiano d'Avellino but hey, it'd been a day. I love fiano, an Italian white wine grape that yields, in its well-done iterations, an enchantingly crisp, just-round-enough vino. It's refreshing and interesting but never detracts from what you're eating*.

To start, we ordered plates of patate lesse and fagiole umido. Both were simple Italian food at its best; the kind of dishes you taste, reel in the confluence of flavor, freshness and perfectly-cooked'ness, and sadly suspect you could never recreate at home despite the fact that each utilizes oh, maybe 5 ingredients.

The patate was, in essence, a plate of perfectly steamed rounds of perfectly white potatoes drizzled in best-quality olive oil (I think Ghib uses one from Frantoia), sprinkled with Maldon salt, and served alongside an Italian salsa verde. Chervil, capers, parsley, other green herbs, lemon and egg. I loved, loved this dish and could bathe in the salsa verde, so delightful did I find it. (Please excuse my photos from last night; I had absolutely no interest in trying to take great ones; just wanted to capture and then eat!)

The fagiole umido was equally wonderful. You just don't understand how Italians coax such flavor and perfection from humble beans, in this case green and wax beans. The beans are definitely cooked -read: not al dente- but are NEVER mushy or soggy. Last night, the beans were enrobed in a glorious tomato-marjoram sauce that not only perfectly attended to them but also made a great dipping sauce for the pizza crusts we were soon to have.

Having not eaten much since breakfast, I wasn't shy about ordering both pasta and pizza for dinner. In a perfectly timed dance, they waltzed to our table just as we we'd almost laid complete waste to our primis. I'd spied the gnocchetti con pesto di cavolo immediately upon glancing at my menu and knew it had to be mine. Lighter-than-air pillows of baby gnocchi (hence gnocchetti versus gnocchi) tossed with the smoothest of kale-walnuts pestos, drizzled with gooey Taleggio (a marvelous soft'ish Italian cheese that melts beautifully) and topped with honeyed walnuts. It was divine. Really divine.

I let T choose the pizza, and he wisely opted for the Olive e Carciofi pie (olives and artichokes). If you served a good artichoke atop a slug, T would consider eating it, so strenuously does he love the unassuming thistles. And if Italians make a star of any vegetable (well, truth be told they make stars of ALL vegetables but I'm making a point here), it's the artichoke. Good god on Italian carciofi.

But I digress. Topped with nostraliana olives, artichokes, sundried tomatoes, smoked mozzarella, basil, garlic, peperoncino, I admit that I was slightly concerned that this pie would have too much going on, that it would lack focus. Happily, I was dead wrong, and in fact, this is possibly my favorite of Ghibellina's pizzas. The olives provide salt, the artichokes heft, the tomatoes just that extra flair, the smoked mozz a unifying earthiness, and the basil- amen!

We managed to devour all but one slice of pizza, had a truly fabulous time, and really, I can't urge you strongly enough to go to Ghibellina ASAP if you've not already. If I lived in the Logan Circle/Dupont area, I'd be a regular fixture there. I'll do my best anyway!

*Have you ever had a vin jaune, for example? Translating as "yellow wine," it's a French vin from the Jura region, and has a decidedly unique taste. Sort of dry sherry meets white wine in flavor, it's very yellow, matured under a film of yeast, and if you're indulging in vin jaune (usually, these are on the pricey end), it's more a main event rather than a supporting actor.

Coolest night in a long while = Ghibellina; with kids?

Two moms, three kids 7 and under, meeting up at a hip joint near the witching hour. What could go wrong? As it turns out, nothing- if your destination is Ghibellina.

Since my ragingly good and delicious maiden voyage at 14th St NW's Ghibellina, I've longed to go back. Recently, a foodie pal mentioned that she'd heard the happy hour was kickin' in the best of ways: cocktail specials; half-price pizzas; the same old welcoming and warm ambiance... Sold. We have some terrific friends who live just around the corner from Ghib so decided to meet them there tonight for the figurative ringing bell: the 4:30 happy hour kick-off.

I may have slightly threatened the children regarding good behavior or dessert-loss-for-a-week, but otherwise ushered them into Ghibellina with joy. They exclaimed over the handsome "fleur-de-lis, mommy!" and immediately requested sausage pizza and pesto pasta. Yet before we even reached a table, we were intercepted and greeted by none other than Ralph Lee, one of the creative forces behind this new'ish DC gem as well as Capitol Hill's Acqua al 2. (Full disclosure, the three of us were extremely lucky to have just recently met Ralph who married a very dear friend.)

Ralph graciously gave us a tour of the restaurant -how Angelica so masterfully rolls the perfectly proofed pizza dough into flawless, non-sticky orbs is beyond me- and introduced us to chef Jonathan Copeland; he showed the kids the ice cream maker's master switch, and you just knew gelato was in our future. The kids thought the pizza oven was "SOOOO hot but cool" and belatedly got Ralph's joke about the walk-in fridge being the "coolest spot in the whole place." Everyone was welcoming and enthused, and it was obvious that the atmosphere Ghibellina exudes is pervasive and sincere. Very Danny Meyer really, and I mean that as the cream of compliments!

We finally made our way back to that fabulous U-shaped bar I loved and planted myself at several months ago (and which, I discovered tonight, Ralph and his restaurateur-partner, Ari Gejdenson, designed!); the kids took over a three-top just behind us while my pal, KP, and I happily commandeered two bar stools. A Lagunitas IPA for her, a glass of Fiano for me, pizzas for the kids, and a very good night it was looking to be. J wolfed down four slices, 2 each of the salsicce and Margherita; Oliver refused to speak until he'd wolfed three of the Marg; little Ms agreed that the sausage pie was delicious; and then the gelato did arrive: pistachio and fior di latte. Both were inhaled as if they'd been nothing more than incredible, dairy-dream apparitions. I didn't even get a taste!

Meanwhile, K and I were on round 2, ordered our own pizza and in the meantime went wild over and could hardly speak during the two appetizers we were brought: shaved octopus, pimentón and fried capers with a chickpea-wilted arugula salad; and a ridiculously good green-and wax-bean summer salad dressed in lemon-mint vinaigrette and pickled onions. When Jack tasted the latter, he smacked his forehead and sighed with pleasure. I concurred. Both were spectacular, and we pretty much licked our plates. My only edit, if you will, is that I'd have left the arugula raw or only just-wilted; its naked peppery punch provides such a tremendous yet subtle kick for which both chickpeas and octopus often long.

Oliver had also requested a slice of the olive oil cake (I loved this dessert last time; macerated amarena cherries, mascarpone. Being that he assumes all cakes means some variation on chocolate and vanilla, he was disappointed. I was absolutely thrilled, and K and I ate it all.

I must give a shout-out to my dear hubs who after two hours picked the boys up and took them home whilst K and I (and her little gal) stayed to finish Round 3 and all else. Delightful in every way, and I can't wait to go back.

It's something special when folks create a place that not only provides its customers great food, but also where they can feel comfortable staying a while, enjoying la bella vita; a bit of Italianate culture here in the States. Job well done!

Great evening at Ghibellina

Last night, Tom, my sister and I went out to Ghibellina, a newly-opened (by the team behind Acqua al Due) Italian bistro, for lack of a much better word, in Logan Circle. It's to the left of the Pearl Dive oyster bar and on a definitely hip, rapidly expanding part of 14th St, NW (Le Diplomate is on the corner). The owners lived in Florence for a while, and Ghibellina is named after the street they lived on and is full of Florentine fleur-de-lis. Ghibellina is a typical DC store-front joint (which I love), with a big plate-glass window looking out onto 14th. If you get there early enough, you can snag some of the few bar stools nestled there, and enjoy a drink before heading to a table towards the rear of the restaurant. There are two bars; the first is a narrow oval with an interior space resonant of a gang-plank. Customers can sit all around while a bartender mans the plank inside, serving up drinks but no food. The second bar is one at which you can both drink and eat and is a more traditional one-sided strip. We started our night at the smaller, oblong bar and loved it. Also, critically, purse hooks are installed underneath so that women can hang their bags rather than sit them awkwardly in their laps or worry about them on the floor. After a first round, we sat, and in doing so I discovered what would be my only complaint about Ghibellina. The chairs are low, so low that I almost asked for a booster seat or phone book because I felt like a tiny tot at the big table. Like Lily Tomlin in the old SNL skit in which she plays the little girl in the enormous chair. Though this seat inspired my best posture, it was odd to feel so low in relation to the table and my dining companions who were happily enjoying their banquette.

Our waitress, Maria, was wonderful, and we went to town ordering everything that struck our fancy: Pici Carrettiera (hand-rolled pici pasta with a tomato/basil/peperoncino sauce; very traditional); Cavolo Verde Saltato Con Peperoncino, Aglio e Parmigiano (kale with peperoncino, garlic and Parm); Carciofi Al Forno Con Aglio e Prezzemolo (wood-oven cooked artichokes with garlic, lemon and mint); Germogli Di Piselli (pizza with pea shoots, culatello, lemon, mozz and grana); Salsicce e Cipolla (pizza with boar sausage, provolone, onions, grana); a plate of Accasciato (a semi-soft buff- and cow-milk cheese); and a slice of olive oil cake with pistachios and amarena cherries for dessert.

My sister the Florentine was definitely bothered by the mint addition to the Carrettiera sauce, but despite that update on what is a very traditional sauce, I am a complete sucker for fresh pici and so devoured my portion happily. The Accasciato cheese was terrifically good; it was about the consistency of provolone but had a wonderful complexity and a bit of sharpness. Buffalo milk is just of the gods. Mon dieu.

The pizzas were fantastic though I liked the Germogli best. I love pea shoots because unlike other vegetables' greenery, they taste just like their offspring. In leafy form, we were eating peas on pizza and with the lemon, mozz, grana and culatello (a superior prosciutto), well, suffice it to say we were quite happy. The Salsicce was quite good too -we got it primarily because Tom and Elia love sausage, and I've never(!) seen El turn down anything with boar in it- with a definite kick and a good char that nicely complemented the sausage and onions. Grana padano is an underrated cheese and should be used more often by everyone. It's considered a lesser step-sibling of Parm but I like it a lot.

The kale dish was perfect. You know how inadequately rendered greens can be chewy and fibrous, like leather? But well done greens are the opposite. Full-of-flavor silk ribbons that you just can't stop gorging on. Aah!

During this feast we drank and very much enjoyed a bottle of Benotto nebbiolo, and for dessert (though everyone swore complete fullness) the olive oil cake with pistachios and cherries was divine. I love olive oil cake anyway, but the crust of candied pistachios on top was sublime and with the Amarena cherries, well, all the better.

It poured brickbats throughout our meal which made our being ensconced in Ghibellina all the cozier. It's a really attractive restaurant with a great energy and vibe, marrying well a refreshing casualness and a serious commitment to good food and good service. I felt that a number of small details had been attended to- the bathrooms for example were cool but well-lit and the faucets (cool and with a cool sink underneath) did not splash water on you as you cleaned up. Amen because too often "cool" ends up being disappointingly idiotic in actual performance.

Can't wait to go back!