Much to my chagrin, of course, since I won't be there. Or maybe this merits the use of an R&R? Seriously folks, this is some fantastic eating. Simply prepared sandwiches, soups, pizza, and more, ordered and handed over at the counter of a teaching kitchen in the back of a fine dining establishment in the heart of our nations capital. Granted, they've apparently been serving similar stuff from Bebo's Trattoria in Crystal City, but c'mon, it's not the same.
So, for those of you who know what I'm talking about, you know what I'm talking about. But for those of you who don't, imagine one of the best chefs in DC (ok, so it took a second try to get the food out, but he put the smack down on Morimoto on Iron Chef when he did), standing there whacking apart a pork shoulder that's falling apart tender, fragrant with rosemary and thyme and all kinds of other aromas just knocking you over, splashed with "green sauce" and nestled with marinated green peppers and onions on a freshly toasted (and in-house) italian long ciabatta roll. Or if you prefer you could have in-house italian sausage with the same. Imagine perfectly browned, thin crust pizza with nothing more than mozzarella and broccoli rabe. Or how about house-made hot dogs with home made ketchup and relishes.
Roberto stands there like a general, shouting to the cooks for more bread, more sausages, more shoulder ... wiping the sweat from his brow with paper towels from the roll in front of him, the same one from which you're going to tear off a piece in a few minutes. You're there standing in line, shuffling your feet, chatting with friends, waving to people you know, or people you see there every week who are also in on the secret. Then it's your turn to order ... God forbid you aren't looking at Roberto when he says, "NEXT!" ... he gets louder and louder and you get a serious glare, not just from him, but from everyone in the room, and in the line that snakes out the door and down the hall to the back of the restaurant. Shout your order and it's put together right there on the cutting board, four or six or eight sandwiches at a time. Or you say, "Just the pizza today," and you get a shrug and a, "NEXT!" Once you've ordered, you just drop your money in the cash box in front of the chef, making your own change. It's honor system and who the heck knows if it's on the books, but who the heck cares?? Just as long as I get the email next week that tells me whether I need to be there on Monday, or Thursday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday.
Are you kidding me?? My mouth is watering right now and I would run through Kandahar City naked right now for a pork shoulder sandwich from the Grill. Guy, Nick, you know what I'm talking about.
In homage and intense anticipation, I'm including the recipe for Roberto's Green Sauce. You could bathe in it it's so delicious. We should all be so lucky.
Salsa Verde (Green Sauce)
Ingredients
| 4 | Anchovy fillets |
| ½ oz. | Bread, torn into pieces (any type except sourdough) |
| 3 tbsp. | Red wine vinegar |
| 1 | Clove of garlic |
| ½ | Egg white, hard boiled |
| 1 tsp. | Capers |
| 1 | Gherkin |
| 2 oz. | Fresh parsley, stems removed |
| 1 cup | Olive oil |
To prepare the sauce:
Place the bread in a small mixing bowl, add red wine vinegar and set aside. Combine all other ingredients in a blender; add the bread. Blend the mixture on high speed for approximately 30 seconds, until smooth.
To store, place sauce in a sealed container covered with a thin layer of olive oil.
Refrigerate.
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