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.

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