Fart In Bowl

Art & Soul, in the Liason Hotel near the Capitol.

Chef Art Smith, Oprah's personal chef, hired as executive chef a long time friend and someone I looked to emulate while working for a former haunt of mine.

Well, the place is beautiful on the inside and has a patio that is so nuevo I thought I was somewhere in LA rather then downtown. The menu was southern, but didn't have collard greens, it did have chow-chow and red-eye gravy though. Our server unfortunately was rude at times, and when I was offered water I asked for a "bottle of still," and he asked me if I wanted bottled or tap water.

My dining experience is usually tarnished when this happens but I know the chef so things have to get better, right? Well, our server reappears and I ask him if the chef is working and I ask to say hello. He tells me he will tell him I am here, takes my name and disappears as my date attempts to order our wine. He comes back several minutes later and asks if we have decided on what we would like to eat. No problem, but we order a bottle of wine with our appetizers. Our apps come out within 5 minutes, but our wine was nowhere to be found. Within the next 5 minutes, our server comes out and apologizes, saying that there was a new manager and they could not find the wine.

Well, as we are eating our apps we decide to order our entrees. Medium rare duck breast for myself, served with candied cabbage and baby root vegetables. For my date, a rib-eye on the rare side, served with grits and brussel sprouts. Yum yum, and I am not being sarcastic. This should go great with our Petit Syrah.

Oh yes, just after we ordered our entrees, the chef appeared and sat down to talk to us. After hearing him talk for 15 minutes about himself, he decided he would head back into the kitchen and said his goodbyes.

I will not take anything away from him in terms of his fame and fortune, cooking on the White House lawn Monday, on the Today Show Sunday morning, etc. Good for him, but he once told me, and I quote "Chase, you are your own biggest fan." These words spoke volumes about the person I was at the time. Putting my ego on the plate instead of letting the food I was making speak for itself. Well, saying the table has turned would be an understatement. Good for him though, don't hate the playa, hate the game.

Our appetizers were cleared while he was at the table and we waited 25 minutes for our entrees. I guess they had to butcher the duck and the rib-eye to order?

The rib-eye looked like something I would find at a family dinner, swimming in sauce, rib-eye in the center of the plate pushing the grits from under it in no particular pattern, and 2 brussel sprouts cut in half on either corner of the plate. My duck was presented looking away from me and I was staring at the vegetables on the front of the plate.

OK, I know I could just turn the plate around but damn, my dining experience at this place is already going down the drain. We also tried a side of the buttermilk mash. Now buttermilk is a little sour to the taste as is, but these buttermilk mash potatoes were like buttermilk with a side of mash, get it? Dessert doesn't even get a mention with this because it was just bland and sad.

2 bills dropped, plenty of patience displayed and not a single thing taken off the check by the chef that I used to be so enthralled with. This was a good reminder and a lesson for me as I prepare to move up the proverbial restaurant "food chain," though certainly not worth the time and money spent on a terrible experience.