Logo courtesy of Palena

Deviled eggs, like the common hot dog and macaroni and cheese, are one of those classic comfort foods that have lately taken on a sort of contemporary chic—and, in some cases, sheen.

To wit: One recent evening at Boundary Stone in Bloomingdale, a plate of the $3 hors d’oeuvres arrived in the standard fashion—hard-boiled, bisected, and served cold. Except for one glaring element: The yolks were frickin’ pink! What horrible deformity had befallen that poor chicken embryo?

Thankfully, the blushing semi-orbs didn’t taste all that abnormal. They were just slightly sour and a tad tangy. It seemed no genetic mutation was at play here, nor was this some ill-conceived promotion to benefit the Think Pink campaign for breast cancer awareness. “I take some pickled beet juice and add that in with the yolk to make the deviled mixture,” chef Vincent Campaniello later explains.

When I made a return visit a few weeks later, the eggs had changed from bright pink to a sort of greenish gold. They smacked of heavy salt and spice, as well as a more subtle flavor that I couldn’t immediately identify but eventually found out to be dill.

This sort of guessing game has become commonplace at the increasingly hip neighborhood’s newest boîte.

A woman sitting next to me at the bar, who described herself as a “deviled egg snob,” claimed to have previously tried three different colors of eggs at Campaniello’s rustic-looking restaurant on Rhode Island Avenue NW: pink, orange, and purple. Her favorite? The orange—though she added that she had no clue what was in that one.

“My deviled eggs will change nightly depending on what I feel like playing around with and putting in them,” says Campaniello, whose Sunday trips to nearby farmers markets often dictate what sort of creamy egg filling his patrons will be eating for the next week. “I try and give the people something new.”

Despite the mystery, or maybe partly because of it, the bar snacks have become quite popular sellers, according to the chef. “I get a lot of questions sometimes,” he says. “But once [customers] try them, they fly out of here. I get in trouble stocking them. I’ll think I make enough orders and they’ll be gone with plenty of time left in service.”

Campaniello’s eggy experiments underscore a larger trend. At D.C.-area eateries, the summertime picnic staple has become as common an appetizer as fried calamari, yet as varied in preparation as pizza.

Perhaps the local standard-bearer of the genre is 2Amys in Cleveland Park, where deviled eggs have been listed on the menu since the restaurant first opened in 2001. Peter Pastan’s place is best known for its traditional Neapolitan-style pizza, but the eggs are outstanding. They win my vote for best in the entire city. The yolk filling tastes of curry, but not overpoweringly so. And, the accompanying oily green sauce—whipped up with chopped parsley, pickles, anchovy, capers, and mustard seed—piles on the salt.

Prior to the pizzeria’s opening, Pastan, also proprietor of Obelisk in Dupont Circle, had served the dish at local fundraisers. “Either people would get it, and they’d be like, ‘Oh, who doesn’t love deviled eggs?’ or, they’d be like, ‘What? Deviled eggs?’ like it was nothing special,” says 2Amys co-owner Amy Morgan.

Between the deviled delights and other egg-laden recipes, 2Amys generally goes through about five cases of eggs each week, she says. That’s 150 dozen.

In recent years, other venues have tried to elevate the old cold egg in weird ways, with varying degrees of success. At Ray’s to the Third in Arlington, the latest establishment in beef-centric restaurateur Michael Landrum’s empire, the traditional yolk mixture is tossed out entirely. Landrum instead fills his white ovals with steak tartare and smothers them in Hollandaise. The powdery yolks are scattered about the plate as a sort of garnish along with some pickles, capers, and diced onion. Call me old-fashioned, but the yolk is where the payoff is. Relegating it to the side is just plain wrong.

Retro-chic comfort food, like overpriced pet food, seems to cause marketers to break out the puns: At Ray’s, the classic deviled descriptor is altered to “devilishly good” on the menu. At Founding Farmers, the Foggy Bottom church of farm-to-table dining, eggs filled with lobster, crab, and salmon-infused mixtures are labeled “devil-ish.”

* * *

Economics may help explain the ascension of the old-school, albumin-rich dish to prominence on local menus. Eggs are cheap. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the average retail price of a dozen grade-A eggs in September was less than $2. Slice each of ’em in half and your profit margin on the main ingredient instantly doubles.

Another financial factor: Prominent local chefs I’ve interviewed give me the distinct sense that they think the cure for our current national economic malaise involves healthy doses of mayonnaise, plus yolk.

“In these times, people are looking for what comforts them,” says Boundary Stone’s Campaniello. “I’ve done the five-star fine dining and everything. People aren’t really looking for the white linen service anymore. They want to come in and just enjoy the simple things that spark a little memory.”

And yet, even some of the city’s finer dining establishments are churning out deviled eggs. Consider Central, where fancy French chef Michel Richard serves what his compatriots calls œufs mimosa, a quartet of creamy egg halves topped with marinated anchovies called boquerones, for $7. They are quite good. The seafood topping is neither too fishy nor too salty.

At Richard’s even fussier Georgetown location Citronelle, a more traditional version of deviled eggs also appear on the menu of a special pre-theatre promotion honoring the Washington Ballet’s upcoming production of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic jazz-age novel The Great Gatsby. (The story’s action, you’ll recall, takes place in fictional West Egg.) It seems that what was good for the dapper gents and flapper-clad gals of the roaring ’20s is also perfectly suited to the 21st-century high rollers still raking it in within the Beltway’s yet-unburst bubble.

On the flipside, you find the same style of finger food getting hands sticky inside some of the District’s dingier dives. At DC9, where former Frank Ruta acolyte Amber Bursik now helms the kitchen, deviled eggs help ease the sting of whiskey shots and ear-ringing indie rock.

Bursik infuses her egg filling with pimento cheese. It’s a natural extension of the chef’s go-to morning-after remedy: grilled cheese filled with the pimento spread. “That’s one of my favorite hangover foods,” she says.

Add some paprika and a sliver of real pimento on top and you’ve got one potent bar snack. “It’s got a little bit of a smoky flavor to it, then it’s kind of sweet, a little salty, a little cheesy, and a little eggy,” she says.

Beyond the homey appeal of the dish—“They remind you of your childhood, they’re tasty and they’re kind of a guilty pleasure,” the chef says—Bursik floats another reason why folks flock to local restaurants for their deviled egg fix: “They’re a pain in the ass to make for yourself.”

Photos by Darrow Montgomery

Eatery tips? Food pursuits? Send suggestions to hungry@washingtoncitypaper.com.

Boundary Stone, 116 Rhode Island Ave. NW

2Amys, 3715 Macomb St. NW, (202) 885-5700

Founding Farmers, 1924 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, (202) 822-8783

Ray’s to the Third, 1650 Wilson Blvd., Arlington

DC9, 1940 9th St. NW, (202) 483-5000

We were sitting at one of two outside tables at Bar Pilar, a coveted spot that my boyfriend and I considered ourselves lucky to land. Then we saw a friend down walking down 14th Street and, despite the limited seating, welcomed her to join us. It was a Monday. And we were not on a date. But she felt bad, so instead of sitting on the remaining plastic seat, she wedged herself in a flower bed.

We ordered a few plates to share: the peas and house-made ricotta, tri-meat meatballs and Pilar's popular fried chicken with whipped potatoes.

The peas arrived first. And that's when I knew our unexpected guest had became a fixture of our table. We unrolled a napkin, handed her a fork and she dug right in. The shiny, lime-colored beads brought forth a snap, complementing the creamy pudding of cheese.

Both English and snow peas are simply blanched, then tossed with lemon juice and Arbequina oil, a Spanish dressing that Pilar's chef, Justin Bittner, describes as "really light and fruity with no bitter aftertaste and not to peppery."

When we spoke on the phone a few days after my meal, Bittner wanted to know why I chose that particular dish to write about. "I like cheese," I tell him, plus I wanted to get my vegetable fill, as well. He politely asks if I could please write about something else, which I decline and ask why.

"I kind of borrowed this dish from another restaurant," he reveals, "so I think it could be disrespectful."

"That's okay," I quickly reply. "I'm sure the other restaurant would want to know you liked its dish." You know the saying: imitation being highest form of flattery and whatnot.

At first, Bittner refuses to reveal the originator, but continues explaining his take, describing the dots of chive oil, the bouquet of pea shoots and the lemon zested-ricotta.

I ask one last time. "It was at Palena Cafe," Bittner finally confesses. "I really like Frank Ruta's cooking." The reason for recreating this particular dish: "It was really fresh and tasty," he says.

Brings new meaning to the term "poaching" in the kitchen.

Photo by Stefanie Gans

While milling around Cleveland Park on a weekend walking tour, I ducked into the recently expanded Palena Cafe and Restaurant and spoke to general manager Sarah McCarty. She was nice enough to let me snap a few photos and tell me more about the changes at the newly opened space.

While the cafe has expanded to more than 100 seats, the formal dining room has been reduced by six spots in an attempt to improve focus and flow. The cramped kitchen has been moved upstairs and expanded; the booths in the old cafe space have been re-upholstered; and the antique flooring inside the old MaGruder's space has been unearthed and given a new life.

The most interesting change? Frank Ruta's famous brined and roasted chicken is now cooked in an oven burning a mix of oak and other woods. Those who've ordered Palena's bird have treasured its consistently juicy meat bound by its crispy, flavorful skin. It will be interesting to see how a change in cooking technique affects the dish that's applauded more than Springsteen in Asbury Park.

My favorite D.C. burger is receiving some oak as well; Palena is now firing the patty over a wood-fired grill. I'm interested to see if the change is for the better. If you've checked out the new Palena, let us know what you think.

More pictures of the new space are after the jump.

Above you: Cedar slats and suspended lighting. In front of you: a smooth oyster-marble bar

The sub-floor buried at the old Magruder's turned out to be historically significant terrazzo tile banded in copper.

The main kitchen has been moved from the basement to increase capacity. The old kitchen now handles bread operations.

The original cafe space has been updated with new carpet and upholstery, but the layout is mostly unchanged.

The new dining room with six fewer seats.

Last week, Rockwell officially started asking for money for his knowledge of the local restaurant scene. He launched DCDining.com, a no-frills site that sells customized dining packages for people willing to pay, for example, $18.95 for "The Perfect Meal." Customers fill out an online form, and Rockwell reviews the specific request before scouting out the right location; he will also make the reservation for the client.

In announcing his new service, Rockwell sent out this release in which he noted:

As you read this letter, you should no longer consider me an “amateur” in the restaurant business; I am going to take my great passion – and perhaps my greatest area of expertise – and make it my career.

DCDining.com will have its soft opening next week, and will be the first of its type in the United States, if not the world – a concierge service where I will lead tourists, visitors, businesses, and anyone passionate about dining to the right restaurant. Publicity, hype, and marketing? They’ll have no effect on my decision making, and if I have any say in the matter, those superficial lures are going to have less and less importance as time goes by.

So why the new direction for Rockwell? As with a lot of things in life, it boils down to money, timing, and a need for more balance in life. For years now, Rockwell has had essentially two jobs: He's been working as a computer consultant for the Environmental Protection Agency since 1986. In his off hours, he's also been monitoring and managing his self-named board, which has grown from, as he noted in the announcement, "a tiny, close-knit band of marauding food pirates to a large, diverse community, with statistics measured in the thousands and millions."

Something had to give.  He needed to find a way to monetize the site, shut it down, or come up with another solution.

"There's nothing in it financially for me at all," Rockwell, 49, acknowledged about his foodie board. "What am I going to do when I'm 60? What am I going to do when I'm 70?"

DCDining was his answer. Rockwell has decided, for the time-being, to drop his EPA consulting gig and focus his energies almost exclusively on DonRockwell.com, which will remain unchanged and mostly advertising-free, as well as DCDining.com. He says he has enough money saved to sustain him for awhile until he can generate more income from his new project.

"I had to start somewhere, or I wouldn't have started at all," Rockwell wrote to me via e-mail. "I'm the kind of person who comes up with an idea, then just sticks my head down and plows forward. It's probably my biggest strength, and it's also probably my biggest weakness. One thing I know is that, in my mind, this is going to benefit both restaurants and diners, and that is my goal."

If Rockwell claims he won't be swayed by publicity, hype, or marketing, then what about chefs? His site features quotes from a number of them, including Eric Ziebold at CityZen, Frank Ruta from Palena, James Alefantis from Buck's Fishing and Camping, Edan MacQuaid from Pizzeria Orso, R.J. Cooper from the forthcoming Rogue 24, and a number of others.

Won't Rockwell feel compelled to send customers to the restaurants whose chefs have helped promote his new venture?

"The people I solicited quotes from are the people whose work I believe in," said Rockwell during a phone interview, noting perhaps one or two exceptions.

But what if one of these chefs started slipping, would you still direct your clients to their restaurants?

"No," Rockwell said, "I would stop sending people there."

Rockwell said he counts only four industry people among his friends, people with whom he socializes outside the context of their restaurants. Those folks are Ziebold, sommelier Mark Slater at Ray's the Steaks, Kavita Singh from New Heights, and Koji Terano from Sushi-Ko. Rockwell says he's always up front with people about these relationships, right down to listing them on his site. (Registration required.)

DCDining is only in its soft-launch phase and the requests are just trickling in. Ultimately, Rockwell said, he doesn't believe the brunt of his customers will be D.C. residents, who will continue to do what they always do: check reviews on the Washington Post, Washingtonian, Yelp, and, yes, DonRockwell.com. Instead, he hopes to tap into the hotel and convention networks, with the idea of providing tourists with information on where and what to eat.

If Rockwell seems to have perspective about who will use DCDining.com, he also has perspective about its name. DonRockwell.com takes the founder's name, but is focused on the larger dining community and its many opinions. DCDining, on the other hand, "doesn't have my name on it," Rockwell said, "and it's all about me."

No one needs to tell you to visit Frank Ruta’s precision-cooking operation in Cleveland Park, whether his cafe or the more formal dining room in back, and I hesitated to include it on my list. The obviousness of the choice pains me to a degree. But making room for Palena gave me another chance to praise the chef I admire most in this town. Frank Ruta is to cooking and his culinary team what John Wooden was to college basketball and his ballplayers: disciplined, creative, kind, stern, smart, and always on top of his game. Ruta is a marvel of consistency. Every time I think his roast chicken won’t live up to my memory of it—its skin not crisp, its flesh somehow dry, its flavors lacking their customary depth—I’m happily proved wrong. I also marvel at how Ruta continues to produce such a high-quality tasting menu in his main dining room at a price well below those of some of his more PR-savvy competitors.

3529 Connecticut Ave. NW (202) 537-9250

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

When I walked in the door at the Cereal Bowl on Sunday afternoon, there wasn't a soul in sight other than a lone counter employee. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't sure I wanted anyone spotting me in this cartoonish excuse of a Cleveland Park restaurant.

Now, you'd think that after all these years of eating out (and eating alone) in restaurants, I would never feel embarrassed to step foot into an eatery. I mean, I've developed a fairly high tolerance for public humiliation. But then again, I've never "dined" in a place like the Cereal Bowl before. I'm still trying to determine who eats at this place during traditional dinner hours. I suspect there aren't packs of 10-year-olds roaming Connecticut Avenue NW at that time of night.

It makes me think the Cereal Bowl views itself more as a snack and "dessert" outlet than a place for a meal.

There is, without a doubt, a lot of room for free-form self-expression at this place. You can mix and match any number of cereals — Froot Loops, Cap'n Crunch, Lucky Charms, Apple Jacks, Cinnamon Toast Crunch or, if you're feeling rather adult, Grape Nuts — and top your creation with fruits, nuts, granola or "sweets" like (I kid you not) chocolate cookie dough or apple pie filling.

The potential number of combinations must be larger than the 39th Mersenne Prime. The Cereal Bowl laughs in the face of your typical top-your-own fro-yo shop, where the potential options now seem puny.

To be honest, I had no idea what to throw together. I mean, it's not like I could consult Page and Dornenburg's The Flavor Bible to help me figure out whether Froot Loops would pair nicely with Fruity Pebbles or just prove to be one large artificially fruit-flavored sugar bomb. So I surrendered to two of Cereal Bowl's signature combinations: The "Sweetest Thing" and the "Morning Glory." They have trademark symbols (™) next to their names online. Of course.

I ordered the Morning Glory in the name of giving the Cereal Bowl a fair shake. Among the "cold bowl" combinations available, this is one of the healthiest —  or at least unlikely to turn your teeth into potholes right on the spot. My bowl included Frosted Mini-Wheats, sliced strawberries and bananas, and slivered almonds (a combo that differs slightly from the version described on the Cereal Bowl's Web site).

The Sweetest Thing, by contrast, is a dentist's wet dream: a bowl filled with Lucky Charms, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, Nilla Wafers, and for a garnish, rainbow sprinkles. You feel dizzy just looking at it.

I sat at a table, alternating between the bowls that I filled with 2 percent milk. (You can also select whole, skim, or soy.) The Morning Glory ($3.49 for a small serving) was a perfectly acceptable bowl, sweet and fruity and as fresh as you're going to get from a box of breakfast cereal made in one of 18 countries where Kellogg's products are manufactured. On the other hand, the Sweetest Thing ($3.29 for a small) looked like someone had melted down a circus clown and tasted like cinnamon bun soup. I couldn't finish it.

As I was spooning down those bowls, I tried to make myself invisible to the customers coming through the door. I know it's stupid. It's my job. I have a semi-legit reason for being here, but I really didn't want to explain to Dean Gold or Frank Ruta, should they happen to wander by the front windows, why I was wasting a valuable meal on the Cereal Bowl and not their Cleveland Park restaurants.

Of course, now that I've had time to think about it, here's what I would tell them: I'm trying like hell to figure out how a place like the Cereal Bowl can succeed in Cleveland Park. I can understand how it could work near a college campus, maybe even in a post-collegiate bar district like Adams Morgan. But here in Cleveland Park, despite its numerous bars, I don't think there are enough drunks jonsing for a secondary sugar rush to make this place work.

Besides, no one ever seems to hang out at the Cereal Bowl. During my time there on Sunday, I'd guess about 15 people wandered in, all of them choosing to eat their orders elsewhere. It makes me think that others are embarrassed to be seen at the Cereal Bowl, too.

What do you think, Y&H Nation? Give me your opinions on the Cereal Bowl and other potentially embarrassing places to eat. E-mail me with your thoughts, and I'll post the best of them on the Y&H blog.

The D.C. Dish Hall of Fame leaderboard remains virtually unchanged after a week of voting, save for the flip-flop of the ninth and tenth place dishes. After a strong surge last week, Horace & Dickie's  fried whiting moves up a notch into ninth place.

But I have to say, I think the list is still missing some great dishes. Plates like Frank Ruta's roast chicken and Michel Richard's lobster burger are nowhere to be seen, meaning they will not, at present, be part of the inaugural class of the D.C. Dish Hall of Fame. A shame that would be, to paraphase a certain elderly sage.

A comment we received this morning, I think, sums up the feelings of a number of voters, who seem to view this contest as an exercise in classism, not a genuine search for D.C.'s finest plates:

like most things in DC, the options show extreme class stratification. I'd love to know the percentage of DC residents who've enjoyed the CityZen Parker House Rolls or Komi's spit roasted goat.

I understand that more people can afford to eat at Ben's Chili Bowl over CityZen. But I don't think you should hold that against a great side like Eric Ziebold's Parker House rolls. It deserves a place among the city's best as much as the chili half-smoke. Well, almost as much.

So, c'mon, let's try to put our prole resentments aside and vote for the best, regardless of price.  You can vote here.

The leaderboard:

1. Half-smoke with chili at Ben's Chili Bowl, 298 votes
2. Hamburger at Five Guys, 142
3. Peruvian chicken at El Pollo Rico, 115
4. Falafel at Amsterdam Falafelshop, 107
5. Margherita pizza at 2Amys, 100
6. Burger from Ray's Hell Burger, 89
7. Salty oat cookie at Teaism, 85
8. Palak chaat at Rasika, 80
9. Fried whiting at Horace & Dickie's, 76
10. Pho at Pho 75, 75

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

The Sou'Wester pork jowl BLT sounded too mouthwatering to pass up, even if we were way past tomato season, but at $7 per sandwich, I had to ask our waiter how large the lunch-time portion was. He indicated that the sammie was small, perhaps the size of my hand, and that depending on my appetite, I might need a side or two to supplement it. I appreciated his frankness.

Turns out that size wasn't a problem. Flavor was. Texture was. Presentation was. If you had sat that sandwich on a table, without informing me of its place of origin, I would have thought it came from Potbelly or Cosi or maybe even a government cafeteria, not a Mandarin Oriental restaurant under the watchful eye of Eric Ziebold. (Well, I guess the fatty, gelatinous jowl meat immediately places the sandwich under the trendy nose-to-tail banner, and therefore renders it gourmet, but trust me, the meat alone couldn't save this sucker.)

The bread was hard and crackly despite no apparent turn on the griddle or in a pan (was this oven baked?). The ingredients, including a sad single round of tomato on one half of the sandwich, were thrown together between the hardened bread slices with little concern for balance or appearance. The sandwich's flavor was mostly provided by the double wallop of fatty pork and fatty mayonnaise. It had all the subtlety of Marion Barry.

I had hoped the side dish of pickled vegetables would help cut the fat parade, so I popped a pink floret of cauliflower into my mouth. I almost spit it out. Wanting to check my palate, I asked my tablemate to sample the pickled veggie. She took a bite of the cauliflower and immediately made a face. We agreed on one thing: Ziebold and chef de cuisine Rachael Harriman need to jettison the caraway seeds in the pickling liquid. The anise overtones just don't work.

Our entire lunch wasn't a bust, however. My friend's fried chicken ($13) boasted a crispy, well-seasoned coating, which was moist and flavorful despite its long dunk in the fryer oil. My friend kept poking her finger into the leg meat to show me the puddle of grease on it. It didn't bother me as much as it did her.

The best part of the meal, by far, was the appetizer of crab fritters ($12), which was actually closer in spirit to Frank Ruta's famous fry plate at Palena Cafe. The dish was loaded with delicate, browned nuggets of moist crab meat as well as toothsome rounds of lightly fried onion bulbs and sunny circles of lemon slices, all ready for dipping in the accompanying green goddess dressing.

Unfortunately, by the time I pretended to eat my pork jowl BLT, and its sad side of pickled veggies, the memory of that appetizer had faded far away. All I was left with was one unavoidable thought: This was not the kind of food I was hoping for after attending the Sou'Wester opening in September.

Voting is just a couple of weeks old for the inaugural class of the D.C. Dish Hall of Fame, but already a pattern has emerged: Fast foods are dominating the competition.

That's hardly surprising, of course. On a daily basis, you know that people order about 500 more half smokes at Ben's Chili Bowl than, say, order Frank Ruta's roast chicken at Palena Cafe. But just because the odds are stacked against your favorite dish, that's no excuse to sit back and let the fast foods run away with this.

Start pressing your friends to vote for your favorite dish. The voting doesn't end until Dec. 11, when we will induct the top 5 into Washington City Paper's inaugural D.C. Dish Hall of Fame.

Take a look at the current leaders:

1. Half-smoke with chili at Ben's Chili Bowl, 191 votes
2. Hamburger at Five Guys, 92
3. Peruvian chicken at El Pollo Rico, 80
4. Falafel at Amsterdam Falafelshop, 64
5. Margherita pizza at 2Amys, 59
6. Burger from Ray's Hell Burger, 59
7. Salty oat cookie at Teaism, 57
8. Pho at Pho 75, 55
9. Palak chaat at Rasika, 49
10. Smoked branzino carpaccio at Teatro Goldoni, 37

Don't like the looks of the current leaderboard? Get voting!

Photo by Darrow Montgomery