Much virtual ink has been spilled around here about the incomprehensible awfulness of the table of contents page of Washingtonian magazine. (Yes, I’m piggybacking on my boss’ complaints about it, but best as I can recall I whined about it first at CP central command.) It has really tiny type. It makes no effort to draw you to what are the most important stories in the issue. If a j-school student submitted it as an assignment for a magazine-design class, any reasonably intelligent professor would have to nod politely and say, “Yes, well, that’s a very interesting first try.”

Well, I’m gonna do a little service journalism of my own here and offer a helpful table of contents for the latest issue. Tear out the TOC on page three and replace it with a printout of what follows—I guarantee that, if nothing else, the type will be three times more readable.

PAGE 7: Capital Comment Reinventing Obama and McCain…Good beach reads…Empty seats on Air Force One….

PAGE 19: Where + When Coldplay’s coming!

PAGE 33: Health D.C.’s got a serious lead-poisoning problem but you wouldn’t know it reading the TOC because it’s buried next to a book excerpt. Kids in D.C are threatened with brain damage and it’s getting as much attention as the crossword.

PAGE 44: “Heroes at Play” Nice sports-themed photo essay that the TOC leads you to believe is about Georgetown U.

PAGE 54: “Grownups Gone Wild” Washingtonian’s TOC editors had a choice between flagging a photo of privileged young women whoopin’ it up in Dewey Beach and a picture of FBI chief Robert Mueller…standing around. Guess which they picked?

PAGE 64: “My House of Bargains” If you want to find things cheaply, go to Craigsl—NEVER MIND NOTHING TO SEE HERE.

PAGE 82: More cheap stuff. This feature takes up approximately 200 pages but only merits a three-line treatment on the TOC.

PAGES 88-90: Ladies, have you considered getting some work done?

PAGE 141: Home Repair There’s nothing quite as gratifying as working with your own hands on things around the house. Here are some people you can hire who feel that way.

PAGE 171: Real Estate Oh, honey, if you have to ask…

Until this weekend, I thought the Washington City Paper had really cornered the market on news about D.C. -area young drunkies and things they do while drinking.

Now, I’m not sure.

Behold this month’s Washingtonian magazine, which includes a story that—I kid you not—features these things:

• A lead image of a girl (kind of chubby) giving a lap dance to a drummer.
• This first quote: “I just made out with a blonde!”
• A main character named Easy E.
• A photograph of a fridge with nothing but beer. JUST BEER. Where are the proteins? Where are the legumes? Where is the local B-list celebrity smiling nearby?
• A paragraph examining the male equivalent to cougars. “‘Do I want to have sex with 20-year-olds?’ ponders one 48-year old man from Fairfax. ‘Yeah, but not every weekend.’”

Well, this is certainly a change of pace. I am disappointed to report this article does not feature any high-ranking members of congress or campaign leaders (damn!). Read the rest of this entry »

This week’s episode is a veritable gauntlet, as Erik takes on the Post’s “Sunday Source,” sexist sports editing, overly rhapsodic weather reporting, and the Washingtonian—whose wretched T.O.C. proves disastrous for Erik’s central nervous system.

Oy!

Trouble viewing? Try the YouTube version.

Fuego/Frio is back from vacation with a new punch, some added zip and—just for good measure—a fresh touch of oomph.

Watch in awe as Erik assails the Washingtonian for hamhandedness, the Washington Hispanic for gun-nescience and the Washington Examiner for treading on well-trodden ground.

El Pregonero, meanwhile, gets some love for a paradigm-shifting day-laborer piece.

Plus: props to the New York Times for beating Wemple on the Brauchli story.

Trouble viewing? Try the YouTube version.

Our look-back at the weekend starts with the Washington Post’s look-back at the MLK Jr. riots of 1968. A perfectly fine story, but one that the Post has done so many times, not just on riot anniversaries, but every time a city-in-transition story comes about. I’m sure I’ve read it at least 20 times–always a variation on this: “Gloria Robinson, 55, an office administrator, grew up in Columbia Heights, where a new shopping center and condominium apartments stand on a street devastated by the riots. She is convinced that the promise of rebirth eludes poor and working-class African Americans.”

*Check out the Washingtonian’s top blog post of last week.

*The latest Department of Public Works newsletter provides tips for recycling, plus: Don’t forget that the special springtime hazardous waste throwout day is…..April 26 at the Carter Barron Amphiteater!

*For years, area residents have been sending back the D.C. Examiners that wind up on their lawns. Well, now the paper is fighting back, with sex!

*Not a lot cooking on the Washington Times site, so might as well read about the impact of tax rebates on tourism.

Thanks for checking in. And stay tuned to our blog today! Among other things, there’s big stuff going down in the media world, as the Pulitzer Prizes are awarded. The Post is a shoo-in for one prize, for the series on Walter Reed. But what about the Cheney series? The coverage of the Virginia Tech massacre?

Too much going down on an Easter weekend to waste any time in this space. Let’s get right into roundupping:

*Folks at Washington Post Co.’s Express appear to have had a nice weekend, as this feature on the ins and outs of ceviche is still fronting the commuter paper’s Web site.

*Don’t really understand why they’re doing it now, but Washingtonian chimes in with an essay on the turning points in D.C. history by a guy named Larry Van Dyne.

*The Washington Post has launched its 1,234th blog. It’s on lax.

*The Washington Times, for its part, is talking about just how the fighting between Hillary Rodham Clinton and Barack Obama is boosting John McCain.

*Also, for the die-hards out there, D.C. institution and WAMU analyst Jonetta Rose Barras fronts the Outlook section of the Post with a piece in which she distances herself from the rantings of the Rev. Jeremiah A. Wright.

Weekend marked an end to a mid-winter Sunday slump for the Washington Post. Readable articles this time included:

*Definitive assessment of ravages of condo conversion trend. Sure, story’s a decade old, but still compelling.

*More immersion on the drama of the superdelegate votes for Hillary and Obama.

*The last word, hopefully, on Charlotte Allen’s idiotic piece on women and her editor’s craven pursuit of buzz.

*A solid piece by Liza Mundy on the true meaning of those marriage vows that you parroted without really thinking about.

*The Examiner’s prize bit of wire copy discusses bad water being used by the troops in Iraq.

*The Washington Times could have come up with a less duh headline than this one: “Pennsylvania demographics resemble Ohio”. Well, you don’t say.

*New York Times Mag–in the Money Issue–goes deep on the impact of celebs in advancing do-gooder causes worldwide.

Last month, Washingtonian began preparations for its Best of Washington/Worst of Washington issue.

The mag’s staffers received a memo soliciting suggestions for the Best-of, Worst-of reader’s poll. It was a pretty straightforward affair, outlining the categories that the Washingtonian used last year and merely asking for input.

Well, some input was on its way–straight from the desk of Washingtonian President and Publisher Cathy Merrill Williams (CMW). Here’s what the honcho contributed to the dialogue:

Gang - it would be great if we could think of some “worsts” that were less people oriented (from a potential liable perspective). Things like worst traffic back up spot, worst time to visit a museum, etc.

Now, let’s take that short message apart:

• “it would be great if we could…”—Here, CMW is borrowing a page from the Bill Lumbergh manual of employee motivation.
• “if we could think of some “worsts” that were less people oriented”—Hold on, now: Is Washingtonian, via a publisher’s edict, bagging the edgy, take-no-prisoners editorial approach of recent decades?

  No, says CMW via e-mail: “Focusing more on places was a suggestion. Really nothing in the list has changed and there are still a number of people in the mix.”

• “from a potential liable perspective”—”Liable” suits drain time and resources from any proud publication, including the Washingtonian. Hell, not even good “liable” liability insurance can protect your publication from the ravages of a contentious “liable” suit.

  E-mails CMW: “my mental spellcheck was broken that day.”

The Washingtonian did a fine job with its list of 100 Best Restaurants. It looks great, and it’s fun to read. Just for kicks, I started counting the restaurants labeled “inexpensive.” I figured there wouldn’t be that many. And, yes, there aren’t that many in the top half of the list, but there are 11 restaurants where you can dine for $55 or less per person, including tax and a 20% tip. That seems like a fair amount. What’s unfortunate, though, is that only two of them are in the District (Kotobuki and 2 Amys). Yet more evidence that if you want to dine well and cheaply, you have to go to the suburbs. If you want a local haunt where you can dine at regularly, you’re kind of screwed. Anyone have good, cheap places you love in the city that didn’t make the list?

Those of you who couldn’t wait for the New York Times to hit the publish button last night—and you know who you are—have already dissected this piece like a lab specimen. But for you non-obsessives, here’s critic Frank Bruni’s review of Fiamma, the sort-of Italian, sort-of not restaurant that lured away former Maestro toque (and Beard Award winner) Fabio Trabocchi.

Before Trabocchi split for the Big Apple, he earned four stars from both the Washington Post and the Washingtonian. In Bruni’s estimation, the chef rates no better than three. Is this a case of D.C. critics being too easy or the Times being too hard? Or perhaps New Yorkers just can’t hand out four stars to newcomers, particularly those from the District. Discuss.

Washingtonian Dining Editor Todd Kliman, responding to a question on this week’s “chog” allegedly sent by someone from Dupont Circle, had this to say about our recent Pannie Awards:

I thought it was disingenuous. Purpose wasn’t to ‘improve food writing’–purpose was to draw attention for stirring the pot. And my sin was … not buying into the bottom-line of a publicist?

The fact that Joe Yonan, the Post’s food editor (who was also dumped on), and I were both included in this year’s edition of Best Food Writing — I guess that must have been one of those little inconvenient details, best left out.

I think it’s pretty funny, too, because the same column a couple of weeks earlier made a big deal of discovering a restaurant, Hong Kong Palace, that we touted two editions of Cheap Eats ago, with the writer, Tim Carman, going so far as to draw a comparison between it and the cooking of Szechuan master Peter Chang — cooking which, he admitted, curiously, he had never bothered to try.

Let’s break down this lame smackdown:

Kliman Exhibit A: Purpose wasn’t to ‘improve food writing’—purpose was to draw attention for stirring the pot.

The Fact: The Pannies was a pointed, but decidedly tongue-in-cheek column. How could you tell? Hmmm, maybe the fact I wrote that Young & Hungry was “above criticism.” Anyone who thought the piece was literally trying to improve food writing has a reading comprehension problem. (Okay, the last sentence is an opinion, not fact. Sue me.)

Kliman Exhibit B: And my sin was…not buying into the bottom-line of a publicist?

The Fact: Kliman’s Pannie was awarded for purple prose that defined Bebo Trattoria three different ways—none of which jibed with what a publicist told me, which was that Crystal City wouldn’t support a pricey and upscale restaurant. Yes, publicists can play fast and loose with facts, but they do have insights and information that you can check against reality. Like the fact that there is, according to the Washingtonian’s own restaurant database, only one “very expensive” restaurant in Crystal City. And it’s a huge chain steakhouse with lots of marketing clout.

Kliman Exhibit C: The fact that Joe Yonan, the Post’s food editor (who was also dumped on), and I were both included in this year’s edition of Best Food Writing — I guess that must have been one of those little inconvenient details, best left out.

The Facts: I went to several bookstores looking for the new edition of Best Food Writing. It hadn’t come out yet. I tried calling the publisher and looking online for the contributors to this year’s edition. No go. Bottom line: I couldn’t list who was in the collection because, well, I didn’t know. But I did say this right in the lead of the column: “These compilations have included a number of local writers over the years, including Tom Sietsema from the Washington Post and Todd Kliman from the Washingtonian…”

Kliman Exhibit D: [T]he same column a couple of weeks earlier made a big deal of discovering a restaurant, Hong Kong Palace, that we touted two editions of Cheap Eats ago, with the writer, Tim Carman, going so far as to draw a comparison between it and the cooking of Szechuan master Peter Chang — cooking which, he admitted, curiously, he had never bothered to try.

The Facts: First off, my column on Hong Kong Palace made no mention—let alone a “big deal”—of “discovering” it. Judge for yourself. Second, the Cheap Eats edition that Kliman references talks about old Hong Kong Palace, which had different owners, different cooks, and even a different cuisine. The new establishment, run by GM Melanie Qing and her husband/chef Liu Chaosheng, has been in operation for about a year now. Third, it’s not that I couldn’t be bothered to sample Peter Chang’s cooking. The chef skipped town about three months after I started this job. I merely didn’t get a chance to eat his food before then.

The Drink: Vanilla Julep
The Location: Restaurant K, 1700 K St. NW, (202) 974-6545
The Price: $9.85
The Buzz: After a renovation and a new chef, Jimmy’s on K recently reopened as Restaurant K, with the much-heralded Alison Swope at the helm. While the ambience feels hotel lobby-ish, the bar is handsome, and its centerpiece is a display of tempting house-made infusions. It may seem like the infusion world is getting exhausted (Seriously, Stoli, you need to settle down), but there is plenty of fertile territory left—basically anything other than vodka. Restaurant K infuses bourbon with vanilla beans, a process that takes roughly a month, and uses it as the base for a mint julep. The bartender rubs the inside of a martini glass with mint leaves and drops them into the bottom. He adds a splash of lime juice, a splash of simple syrup, and strains the shaken bourbon over top. The variation on the Southern standard is a perfect union of flavors: the bourbon, the mint, the vanilla—they’re all present without trying to outdo one another. It’s comfort in a glass. And if you’re not in the mood for a laid-back cocktail, I have to recommend a martini made from their cucumber-infused gin. The bartender poured me a small shot, and I was in love. It’s in the same vein as Hendrick’s, but the cucumber is more prominent, and it’s smoother. Which is one of the beautiful things about infusions: They make liquor, even rail liquor, perfectly sippable.

This week’s question comes from Lou Cantolupo of the District, who wants to know:

“Do all you food critics hang out with each other on the second new moon of the year and collude who to target next?”

Attention Todd, Tom, Eve, and the rest of you: We’ve been found out! Run for cover into the nearest gastro-pub serving $16 hamburgers and double-fried frites with truffle oil and rosemary! I’ll e-mail you later on when it’s safe to reconvene our underground cabal.

Lou, your question carries a certain tongue-in-cheek tone, but I suspect you speak for many others when you wonder why the hell the same restaurants keep appearing in print reviews. A quick search of the archives reveals that the Washington Post and the Washingtonian have both weighed in on the following restaurants in recent months: Café du Parc, The Majestic, Comet Ping Pong, Brasserie Beck, Il Mulino, Oyamel, Central Michel Richard, BLT Steak, Hook, Bebo Trattoria, Farrah Olivia, and others.

Of that list, City Paper food writers have written about: Café du Parc, The Majestic, Comet Ping Pong, Il Mulino, Oyamel, Central, Hook, Bebo, and others.

It certainly looks suspicious, doesn’t it?

Well, it’s not—not really. You know, there’s a reason they call us a newspaper. We write about what’s new and interesting. Same goes for magazines. I think the real question is whether we food writers overlook the less-obvious new restaurants in favor of those with a fancy-pants chef and a noisy publicist. You might have a case there. But then again, I do see Todd Kliman writing about Moroni & Brother’s on Georgia Avenue NW and Eve Zibart chiming in on EN Asian Bistro & Sushi Bar in Germantown.

The thing is, it takes time and effort to find new, under-the-radar restaurants worth writing about. I can’t begin to count the number of restaurants I’ve eaten at once and never darkened again; I quickly figured they weren’t worth your time or mine. So we’re often left with this focus on the obvious, which, frankly, we’re all complicit in. The buzz that surrounds places like Beck and Central and Comet generates anticipation from readers. They want to hear professional opinions on the food. So we provide them because part of our role as journalists is service.

I checked in with Kliman and Tom Sietsema on this question, too. Both critics e-mailed back thoughtful responses.

“The short answer,” Sietsema wrote, “is I write for a general audience and aim to cover my territory—which seems to be getting bigger each year—with two reviews a month in the District (where most of the more interesting restaurants are concentrated) and one review each in Virginia and Maryland.”

“I never consult with non-Post reviewers about what my plans are, although it sometimes looks as if we’re all eating in the same places at the same time,” the Post’s critic continues. “That’s bound to happen when there are so many noteworthy restaurants launching at the same time; I think critics want to get to those places fairly early on, to let their readers know what the scoop is.”

The Washingtonian’s Kliman had this to say via e-mail as he prepared to board a plane:

“I think [the question is] getting at the idea that places tend to get reviewed around the same time, giving the impression that critics and reviewers are pack rats. But places open, and people want to know about them. Usually, a critic or reviewer will wait a few weeks before making a first visit, so generally speaking, you can count on seeing a raft of opinions about a place about six weeks after opening. I dislike this, as I think you know. But no matter how ambitious you get, a column or review is still bound to a certain service element.

“I try to break from expectations as much as I can—my review of Cynthia’s, for instance,” Kliman adds about his most recent long-form review. “It came out a year later, and the foodiesphere was taken completely by surprise.”

Except for Sietsema, who wrote about Cynthia’s in the Post Magazine on Sunday.

Got an itch only a food critic can scratch? Describe it in detail to asktim@washingtoncitypaper.com.

Todd, I’ll hold the directory for you. You can pick it up anytime you’d like.

D.C.’s hotshot personal injury lawyer Peter Grenier, retained by at least seven families of Tech victims, has to be a real threat to the Commonwealth of Virginia.

Grenier, partner at Bode & Grenier, 1150 Connecticut Ave., told the Washingtonian in ‘02, when the mag named him one of D.C.’s 75 best lawyers: “I try to take cases so obvious that even a baboon could win them.”

It’s hard to find so a modest lawyer around these parts. I mean, could a baboon get a jury to agree to an unheard-of $98 million against the D.C. police? That’s the dollar figure attached to the Grenier legend, the one awarded (later knocked down to $1.1 million) to the mother of a police informant on the Georgetown Starbucks triple homicide, killed while in police custody and making an undercover drug buy in ‘97.

So, hey, VA: You’ve been warned.