Inn at Little Washington

For over two decades, the Inn at Little Washington has enjoyed a reputation of near mythic proportions to anyone who follows food in the Washington DC area.  And much like Nessie or Sasquatch while I had oft heard the tales, I had never actually encountered anyone who experienced it for themselves. 

Le Cuillère and I paid our first visit a year ago, and since have returned twice. While I fully appreciate that going to such an establishment with that level of frequency borders on absurd, the funny thing is that it never feels that way when you're there. I mean sure you're eating 10 courses and easily dropping a mortgage payment on dinner, but you feel perfectly at ease the entire time. It could be utterly pretentious. But it's not. And how Chef Patrick O'Connell and the truly superb staff manage to pull that off remains a mystery to me. But like any amazing performance, I'd prefer to be delighted by the results then spend my time trying to spoil the magic.

The motivation behind our current visit is the 10 course tasting menu the restaurant is hosting. If it hasn't become clear from my previous postings, the Ninja feels very strongly about truffles. Possibly as strongly as one can feel about a fungus without requiring psychological intervention. So any compulsion I may have had to resist yet ANOTHER trip quickly vanished under that weighty fact. One of the most significant qualities that the Inn has captured is the ability to make you feel as though you are the only person in the world. On previous occasions we actually stayed at the Inn itself; this time however, there was no room at the Inn. A tip for your planning: The Inn is about 90 minutes from Washington. Doing a tasting menu will take at least 3 hours. Sure. You can get the earliest possible reservation and not drink. But seriously. Don't be cheap. If you're going to do this... DO IT. (On this occasion we stay down the street at the Middleton Inn, a lovely B&B with its own sense of charm and a killer breakfast. The perfect alternative if you can't get into the Inn.)

Upon our arrival we are greeted like old friends and shown to the Monkey Room, the Inn's bar area so named because of the prevalence of monkeys in the décor. I elect to start with a French 75, while Le Cuillère opts for a dirty Hendricks Martini; both are executed splendidly. In short order, we're shown to a lovely table in the enclosed garden area. We're presented with the menu; an unnecessary gesture. We immediately inform our server that we're there for the truffles and wine pairing, please. Given that most of the other diners have been harassing her with a litany of questions, she seems noticeably relieved. For once, I'm decisive.

The production commences with truffle dusted popcorn served in a mini popcorn box embossed with the Inn's logo. As our server informs us, they recognize the theater involved and have an excellent sense of humor about it. With that she produces an actual basket of truffles and proceeds to shave one over our popcorn. A BASKET FULL OF TRUFFLES. It takes every ounce of restraint not to tackle her, grab the truffles and make a run for it. Of course my attire, the weather, and the desire to someday return keep me in check. The popcorn is heaven, quite simply because it serves as a blank canvas which totally lets the flavor of the truffle shine. Genius.

Next comes the savory Lilliputian Petit Fours. These are the amuse bouches one normally receives at the high end meal. Little bites that give you just a glimpse of the wonders to come. On this visit we're presented with a delicate smoked salmon macaroon, a pairing of foie gros and chocolate, and our favorite, a jellied Bloody Mary, which as the name implies combined all the ingredients of a bloody mary into a little gelled sphere. It tasted exactly like a bloody mary, and was simple extra ordinary.

Following the petits four, we're presented with a Duck consomme, paired with a mini truffle gougere. The consume, served in a miniature glass cup, the clear soup is rich and flavorful, and is perfectly complimented by the tiny biscuit which quite literally melts in the mouth. And to think... the real meal has yet to begin.

But now it's time to get down to business. A heart of smoked scottish salmon with osetra caviar and black truffle vinaigrette paired with Veuve Fornay and Fils Brut Rose Vertus 1er Cru Champagne NV. The pairing is exquisite. In my mind, few things work together like smoked salmon, caviar, and champagne. Be it at brunch or as a starter, together the elements just sing. And this is no exception. The salmon is so fresh its practically swimming of the plate. The vinaigrette provides the perfect ouch of acid to cut through the heaviness of the fish, cream and caviar.

Next on the line up is Ebony and Ivory. Maine Diver Scallops with medallions of Black truffle, paired with the 2007 Verget, Les Clous, Meursault, Burgandy France. This sounds like something the Ninja would adore, but I must say it was not my favorite. I never thought there was such thing as too much truffle, but both Le Cuillère and I agreed that the thick wafers of truffle overwhelmed the scallops. On a large menu, not every dish is going to suit every diner. That said, the quality of the ingredients is so superior that even a bit of a miss is not a total disappointment.

But then along came perfection. When I first saw the next listing, I had no idea what awaited me. Macaroni and Cheese with Virginia Country Ham and Shaved Black Truffle. How good could it possibly be?? Excuse me while I take a moment to relive the experience...... Ok, I'm back. Presented on a toboggan of crisp parmesan a float in a smokey cheese sauce. A top the crisp was a thin slice of cured ham covered by 5 perfectly baked pieces of penne. The dish was perfectly matched with a 2000 Braida di Giacomo Bologna, Ai Suma, Barbaera d'Asti, Piedmont Italy. I've had dressed up mac and cheese before; they pale in comparison. Nothing I can say will possibly do this combination justice. So I won't waste your time trying.

I'm still reeling when the next course arrives. A truffle stuffed roast pheasant on savoy cabbage braised in Champagne paired with a 2001 Hermans Pecina Vendimia Selecocionda Reserva Rioja Spain. The dish is lovely, but it's out of place. After the richness and intensity of the mac and cheese, the pheasant comes across as too delicate. The bird is perfectly cooked, and the rioja makes an excellent companion, but I find myself thinking more about what it isn't than about what it is. I appreciate the desire for contrasts and the intention to shake up the palette. In my case however, it puts a dish I might otherwise have enjoyed in the unfortunate position of competing with its bolder predecessor. In this case, I would have found the pheasant after the scallops as a more enjoyable progression.

Happily, the progression swings back with the blackened wagyu rib eye with bone marrow custard and black truffle risotto. It's served with a 2005 Ladera Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley California. I eat meat rarely, so when I do I find myself either reaffirming that choice, or wondering why I don't do it more often. Cutting into the wagyu I found myself once again enjoying the sensory experience of a perfectly done steak. Heaven. The creaminess of the risotto was the perfect partner to the blackened crust. I've never had marrow before, but this little cup was truly memorable. The custard was rich, savory, and simultaneously delicate. The wine matched well with every component and helped tie the complete dish together.

It's always at this moment, when you feel you can't possibly eat anything more, that a small culinary oasis appears. Pineapple-lemongrass sorbet with pink peppercorn granita. There's nothing better than a citrus base granita to help dismiss the heaviness of the previous courses and hit the palette's restart button. The peppercorn lends just a hint of spice that offsets the fruit. Now I'm ready for the dish that brought me to the Inn.

Warm chocolate bread pudding and almond ice cream perfumed with truffle, paired with Blandy's Island bottled Malmsey 1994 Colheita Madeira Portugal. We had the pleasure of experiencing this dessert on our last visit, and I was dying to try it again. I love the earthiness of truffle incorporated in a sweet dish. To my mind, it'a a better pairing than chocolate and peanut butter. This particular dessert is also offset with little chocolate and truffle flavored puffs to add a bit of texture. Think cocoa puffs, but a million times better. While I fully appreciate that a box of truffle puffs would cost about $200 a box, I'd happily pay it to start my day with this breakfast of champions. Sigh. Every bit as good as I remembered.

As Le Cuillère and I relax with our Maderia our server asks if we'd like to tour the kitchen. On this occasion we're pleased to learn that chef O'connell is working this evening. While the kitchen tour is never to be missed, the opportunity to meet the man who transformed a once humble country inn into a culinary destination is something I can't pass up. Chef O'Connell is charming and gracious; it's apparent his touch is on every aspect of the experience. We retire for the evening completely satisfying and already anticipating another excuse to visit.