What's DC's Version of DBGB?

(Continued from the blog about Dave Pasternack's Esca and weekend dining in NYC)

DBGB

How do you get ready to eat dinner at the best crudo restaurant in New York?

Why, you have a warm-up dinner at the City's go-to place for sausages, of course.  The pre-dinner bonus meal is a fun, excessive show of stomach power, kind of like revving your engine real loud a few times before getting the green flag.

So we stopped by Daniel Boulud's DBGB, located in a neighborhood that used to be called Skid Row.  The punk rock sausage heads of that era are mostly gone now, and, perhaps in homage, DBGB provides 14 varieties of gourmet links.

And now a new strain of meatheads, unemployed investment bankers, flocks to the Bowery to take advantage of DBGB's downmarket prices.  It was so jammed with people that we couldn't get a seat until my dad, shamelessly exploiting (and exaggerating) his son's accomplishments for his own benefit, told the maitre d' that I was "in the industry."  A table materalized; I searched in vein for differences between my dad and Richard Williams.  Seriously, if you can't get a table at a restaurant, just tell them you have a food blog.

As much as I enjoy excess, it would have been insanity to try to sample more than a few of Boulud's haute dogs right before Pasternack's seafood feast.

Luckily, sausage devotee Don was with us to help narrow down the choices.  He recommended the Tunisienne, a lamb and mint merguez over a bed of lemon-braised spinach and chickpeas.

Which looks better?  The sausage, or Don's expert finger

modeling, exhibited throughout these pics 

Don isn't alone in his admiration; merguez was one of the main reasons that the NY Post declared DBGB "sausage heaven" last year.  I have to agree.  When I get to heaven, a few lackey angels better be on stand-by to deliver DBGB's merguez, spiced with paprika, cayenne, and harissa, to my cloud carpet.

The other sausage we got was the toulouse, a cassoulet of pork, duck gizzard, and garlic link.  Yes, I am the most predictable patron ever - if innards is on the menu, there's a plate with my name on it.

But the section of the menu that gauranteed DBGB a special spot in my stomach was one entitled "tete au pieds."  Translation: head to foot dining.  Less literal but equally accurate translation: I will be coming back to Boulud's joint as often as possible for beef bone marrow, tripe, and pigs feet.  On this occasion, I settled for the veal tongue with gribiche sauce and fingerling potatoes.

DC's Version of DBGB

Uh ... DCDC?  I need some help on this one.  The only restaurant that comes to my mind is Good Stuff Eatery on Capitol Hill because, like DBGB, it's helmed by a celebrity fast-foodie (Top Chef Spike Mendelsohn) and specializes in elevating the simple pleasures you typically save for the seventh inning stretch.  But the comparison is weak because Good Stuff focuses on burgers and fries, not sausages, and the concoctions aren't quite as many adventurous steps removed from the paper-wrapped variety.  Spike's Big Stuff Bacon Meltdown is creative and hits the spot, but it doesn't have the exotic allure of, say, the duck gizzards that were crammed into my toulouse at DBGB.

Even after all this food, we were ready for more.  Ever had soujouk lollipops?  Read about them here.