Tag Archives: Bastille Day

Bistrot du Coin — Lunch on 13 July 2019

Still catching up with old news here….

My Bastille Day celebration continued. I stuck a Tricolour flag in a tab on my knapsack and donned my souvenir baseball cap from the Château de Chenonceau. With those essential signifiers in place, I headed out for lunch, humming a medley of “La Vie en rose“, “Non, je ne regrette rien“, and “La Marseillaise“, occasionally complementing it by singing my kinda loose interpretation of the lyrics.

Another day, another bistro.

Signifiers, used in the hope that strangers might think I was French. It didn't work.

Signifiers, used in the hope that strangers might think I was French. It didn’t work.

Dupont Circle

Dupont Circle

According to Google Maps, it takes about10 minutes to walk from my condo to a certain little French restaurant on Connecticut Avenue, assuming you don’t stop along the way. But Dupont Circle, aka le cercle de Dupont, looked so lush and green that I couldn’t resist the temptation to spend a few minutes resting on one of the benches, enjoying the pleasantly warm day.

I’ve lived a bit more than a block away from the Circle for almost half my life, and I’ve had more than a few life-changing conversations in the Circle itself. The Washington I moved to years ago is long gone, and much of the city is almost unrecognizable today, but Dupont Circle is a constant.

Bistrot du Coin

Bistrot du Coin

In a previous incarnation, Bistrot du Coin was a vegetarian-friendly, hippy-ish restaurant/bar that often hosted performances by local musicians. It was called Food for Thought, and it was one of my frequent DC hangouts. Now it’s a popular bistro, serving all the popular bistro standards. Conveniently, the site’s evolution mirrors my own changing tastes.

Casserole de Lapin à la Moutarde

Casserole de Lapin à la Moutarde

Lunch was rabbit stew with carrots, onions, and mushrooms, in light creamy mustard sauce. It was served with “Croes pasta”, and I have no idea what that means.

A very good meal.

Lately I’ve found that many American restaurant serving sizes are just too big for me. The thought of leaving half of this fine stew uneaten was unthinkable, if you can have an unthinkable thought. I took it home, where it made a delightful dinner. My Presbyterian Morrison ancestors would have approved.

Postscript: And with lunch, my Bastille Day celebration came to a close, one day early. When 14 July, the actual Bastille Day, arrived, I was too tired to celebrate and not hungry enough to go out to eat. I blame the late-night leftover Casserole de Lapin à la Moutarde, and maybe the two glasses of Chardonnay I drank with it.


*Or “another bistrot”. Both spellings are correct.

Bistro Bis — Lunch on 12 July 2019

After an hour or so at the “Infinite Space” installation at ARTECHOUSE, I headed over to Capitol Hill for a late lunch.

Bistro Bis

Bistro Bis

Bistro Bis is a 10-minute walk from the Senate Office Buildings north of the Capitol, which should tell you pretty much all you need to know about its clientele. The interior is beautifully done, with multiple dining areas on two levels. It’s a charmer.

Bistro Bis Interior (Image from Bistro Bis website)

Bistro Bis Interior (Image from Bistro Bis website)

Duck Confit

Duck Confit

I’d talked to a friend a few days earlier, and the conversation turned to duck confit, as my conversations so often do. It occurred to me then that since I’d titled my current life-improvement project as the “Bastille Day Revival”, and since dining well was a key part of the Revival agenda, there’d be no better way to start it than by ordering that classic French dish. And where could I find one of the best versions of duck confit in Washington? Well, it wasn’t simply chance that brought me back to Bistro Bis.

The duck was served on a bed of wilted spinach and beans, with baby shallots and a good gastrique. Excellent as ever. I could live on this.

Pommes Frites

Pommes Frites

I chose Pommes Frites, with spicy harissa and rosemary aïoli dipping sauces, for my side dish.

This meal made me happy. Thanks to ARTECHOUSE and Bistro Bis, the Bastille Day Revival was off to a great start.

After The Flood—An Update

It’s been a while. Anybody still out there?

Regular postings will resume in the next few days. What follows here is a brief rundown on why I’ve been hors de combat since Memorial Day. It isn’t very pretty, and you may just want to skip this entry and wait for the new posts.


Summer of 2019 has not been anything close to the most wonderful summer of my life. In fact, I’d probably rank it near the bottom three, only slightly higher than the summer I spent in a Bulgarian prison (mistaken identity), the summer I got lost on the Appalachian trail and had to survive on berries and mushrooms for six weeks, or the summer when that Abercrombie and Fitch model kept calling me and emailing me and stalking me until I finally got the restraining order. (Actually, that one was rather fun.)

The season had started with such high hopes and great expectations! In late May I returned to Washington from a couple of weeks in gloomy and glorious Budapest,* restored, revitalized, and ready to live a much richer and more, well, elegant life. Think Gerald and Sara Murphy in Paris and on the French Riviera in the 1920s.**

The first warning signs came during an otherwise delightful visit by my Nevada brother and sister-in-law, when my long-standing pulmonary problems started to act up. I knew from experience that this meant I was in the early stages of a two- to four-weeks of low-level morbidity, marked by fatigue, marathon coughing sessions, and general yuckiness. And then The Flood happened.

Here’s where things get serious.

I wasn’t aware of it until later, but the whole mess—illness and injury, loss of autonomy and privacy, property damage and disruption of plans, and general uncertainty—left me seriously depressed and effectively paralyzed, unable to do much more than sleep, play online games, and watch immediately forgettable junk TV.  I stopped returning phone calls and answering email. My big project for the year, improving my cooking skills? Abandoned. I had no desire to be in my post-Flood, chaotically disarranged kitchen, and no interest in exploring new restaurants. I survived on deli take-out and on great quantities of Diet Cherry Pepsi.

It was only just before Bastille Day, six weeks post-Flood, that I (metaphorically) slapped myself in the face and told myself that I couldn’t continue to live the way I’d been living, that the numbness began to diminish. I turned off the TV in the middle of an episode of Can’t Pay We’ll Take It Away and made reservations at regular hang-out ARTECHOUSE and at a couple of good restaurants. Not only would I get out of bed and dressed before 2 PM, but I would also actually leave the apartment!

And I did.

So while things here are still ugly—restoration of my condo and of the ~30 other units damaged by The Flood may not even be completed before the end of 2019—it seems life is finally, slowly, back on the upswing.

I’ll be spending the rest of my Unwonderful Summer posting here, dining out, and re-reading Living Well Is the Best Revenge and Tender Is the Night.


*It was my fourth visit to that endlessly fascinating city, my third in 18 months. I’ve told people that entitles me to honourary citizenship, but I may have been misinformed.

**See Living Well Is the Best Revenge.

2018 Cookery Project — Bastille Day Cheesecake

2018 Bastille Day Cheesecake

2018 Bastille Day Cheesecake

When I made my first successful Bastille Day Cheesecake in 2016,  I didn’t plan on turning it into an annual tradition, but it’s certainly a tradition that I’ve willingly embraced. I mean, I now have a legitimate, time-honoured obligation to make a cheesecake every July. How could anyone shirk a responsibility like that?

It’s not as if I’m just pampering myself by making one of my favourite desserts. No. I’m doing it for you, my readers, who have come to expect it.

I just hope you’re properly appreciative and grateful.


The Ghosts of Cheesecakes Past

The Bastille Day Cheesecakes from 2016 and 2017


In all of recorded history, no cheesecake has ever been rated less than four stars.

★ Disaster. Inedible. Poisoned the cat.
★★ OK, but once is enough.
★★★ Mixed results. Something went wrong, but might try this again.
★★★★ Good, but lacks that special something.
★★★★★ Excellent. Goes into my “This is a winner” file.

2017 Cookery Project — Bastille Day Cheesecake

Bastille Day Cheesecake

Bastille Day Cheesecake

The day that started with a low-effort Bastille Day Breakfast ended with a much more complex Bastille Day Cheesecake.

Most of the work took place the night before, because the cheesecake needed an overnight stay in the refrigerator to set properly. I used the same recipe as last year, and this time around, I managed to avoid the disaster that made the 2016 cheesecake’s surface look like it had been hit by a magnitude 4.7 earthquake.


2016 Bastille Day Cheesecake

2016 Bastille Day Cheesecake

Note how I cleverly disguised much of the damage to the 2016 Bastille Day Cheesecake by hiding it under a seemingly random scattering of blueberries and raspberries.


Anyhow, both last year’s cheesecake and this year’s tasted….

Well, put it this way: Have you ever heard anyone claim that a piece of cheesecake was anything less that great? By definition, cheesecake always tastes wonderful.


I’ve decided to start rating these experiments on a five-star scale, The boldface entry is my evaluation of the current dish.

★ Disaster. Inedible. Poisoned the cat.
★★ OK, but once is enough.
★★★ Mixed results. Something went wrong, but might try this again.
★★★★ Good, but lacks that special something.
★★★★★ Excellent. Goes into my “This is a winner” file.

2017 Cookery Project — Bastille Day Breakfast

Bastille Day Breakfast

Bastille Day Breakfast

There wasn’t really any “Cookery” involved in today’s the 2017 Cookery Project entry, unless you count slicing a banana and opening a packet of Open Nature 100% Natural, Strawberry Vanilla Splendor Granola Cereal as Cookery.

But that Tricolour! Très beau!


I’ve decided to start rating these experiments on a five-star scale, The boldface entry is my evaluation of the current dish.

★ Disaster. Inedible. Poisoned the cat.
★★ OK, but once is enough.
★★★ Mixed results. Something went wrong, but might try this again.
★★★★ Good, but lacks that special something.
★★★★★ Excellent. Goes into my “This is a winner” file.