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Eating at the Blue Duck Tavern

The tallest door I’ve ever opened lets Suzie and I into the handsome interior of the Blue Duck Tavern, where a divine dining experience awaits all who enter here. With some nuanced twists and decadent turns in a few traditional dishes, this is more than worthy of repeat visits to sample all the glorious offerings on hand, but for our first night there was only so much two people could order for one sitting. This was recommended by Pati Jinich when I tweeted her requesting dinner options for a quick night in DC – and Ms. Jinich did not disappoint. 

We started with the squash – which is actually a tour of double duty, coming with a topping of pickled delicata squash atop the hubbard, which gets a spicy coating of fall-like warmth and sunflower-studded pesto sparkle. In keeping with the autumnal glow of the October evening, I ordered the duck – the leg and breast perfectly cooked to a succulent but not the least bit chewy or fatty brilliance. Even better was the braised short rib, fall-apart tender and so delightfully flavored that it gave credence to a favorite motto that more is definitely more.

The fries are a work of art inside and outside, presented as a cluster of miniature skyscrapers, perfectly crisp on the outside and firm yet tender within.

A bulky book of wine and cocktail selections provides any and all libations one might want. Service was exuberant and instructional, a brilliant balance of providing the basics with panache and knowing when to step back. The atmosphere manages the tricky feat of turning such high ceilings into a space that feels warm and intimate.

One minor (perhaps major) gaffe had nothing to do with the food or our particular server. While washing my hands in the bathroom (with some gorgeously-scented soap) I watched as one of the waitstaff emerged from a stall and rushed out into the restaurant without washing his hands. I’m hoping it was a quick cel-phone break or something, but even if it was I’d have felt better if he had washed his hands before returning to dole out dishes. I pushed the idea from my mind and focused on walking off my happily-full belly, which had no room for dessert. Perhaps next time.

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