Good first blog topic: definition of "bar food".... :-/

I ignored her.

To be honest, I chose bar food as my niche because it was so versatile. In my head, I argued that anything could be construed as bar food, so as long as I ate it on a bar stool and it could be ordered with a beer. This weekend, while looking at all the pictures I've taken, I began to see a trend. I also became worried about my health.

Almost four months in, I still don't have a formal definition for bar food, and I'm starting to wonder what the hell I can eat while sitting at a bar when I'm not in the mood for a night of indigestion.

Many readers recommended Deli City for a Reuben sandwich, but I prefer mine with with a side of beer. So far, my favorite is at Tunnicliff's Tavern on Capitol Hill.

Craving seafood, I went to Surfside in Glover Park for some fish tacos.

I ate one of the best pizzas I've had in some time at Seventh Hill on Capitol Hill. Eggs are wonderful on pizza. They also have cholesterol.

Remember Duffy's wings? It seems so long ago. I've fallen in love with a few others since then, but there's something about Duffy's sauce that makes me come back to the Vermont Avenue joint often.

Hard Times let me sneak behind the line to get up close and personal with the wings they finish on the grill.

I had a crush and her name was pho dog. And then I went home alone.

Trusty's is one of the best bars in D.C. Their cheese steak looks like a train wreck. I pounded it.

Sometimes, I work in Prince George's County and my only lunch option ends up being Ruby Tuesday in Largo. This is their Triple Prime burger. The menu say it's been called the world's best burger. I cried a little while eating it. They were not tears of joy.

Have you checked out ChiDogO's yet? I went for lunch. The food is not pretty. It is, however, pretty good.

Proving my mental disorder, I went to DC-3 for dinner that same night. Their dogs are pretty. They taste great too.

Wings don't have to be buffaloed. This braised number made me grin.

I followed those wings with pizza, and washed the pie down with cold PBRs. Maybe five of them.

Breadsoda makes grilled cheese with bacon on it. It looks good. It's kinda not.

This is deep-fried mashed potatoes with salami. You can order it at Pizzeria Orso. It's fucking good. (Hi Tim!)

Orso also makes a great pie. Yeah, that's another egg.

Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì, Ba Bay bánh mì.

DC-3 has some decent mini dogs as well. And that sandwich? Salty beefy good.

You know the drill. It's grilled cheese and tomato soup. They're such a pair those two. I should write them a poem.

Can one have too much grilled cheese? Maybe too much cheese in a grilled cheese like this one at Room 11. But the salad makes this plate healthy.

I think I've had at least 144 of these since starting this project and many more before that.

So I think I need a salad. And a nap. :-/

The prosciutto sandwich at Seventh Hill

If my 50 faves were based on style points alone, Seventh Hill Pizza would top the list. Pizzaiolo Anthony Pilla puts on a show every time he preps a pie for the wood-burning oven at the Capitol Hill pizzeria, owned by the same team responsible for the neighboring bistro Montmartre. Pilla takes a ball of fresh dough, stretches it thin with his fingertips, spins it skyward, and stretches it again along the edge of a stainless-steel counter with a few swift, almost imperceptible movements, as fast and graceful as a magician. Once the dough is shaped to his satisfaction, he pulls down a peel, spins the instrument in his hand as if he were between serves at Wimbledon, and places the round on it. The performance alone is worth a stopover at Seventh Hill—and the pies aren’t bad, either. Thin and crispy, they borrow from Neapolitan traditions without slavishly following them. All that dough manipulation? It ain’t really a Naples thing. But traditional or not, Pilla’s pies speak in bold accents, whether the salty language of the Seventh Street, with its prosciutto and Parmesan, or the rustic French patois of the Eastern Market, with its goat cheese, herbs, and tapenade. Don’t overlook Pilla’s sandwiches, either, served on Parm-dusted pizza-dough bread, which acts as a umami megaphone for such bites as the Italian, trumpeting the flavors of Genoa salami, mortadella, capicola, provolone, and hot peppers.

327 Seventh St. SE (202) 544-1911

The New Haven white clam pie at Pete's

Today on Metro Connection, host David Furst and I talk about D.C.'s pizza scene. With the additions of Pizzeria Orso, Pupatella, Pacci's, Il Canale, Seventh Hill, and the second location of Pete's Apizza, I make the argument that the D.C. metro area now has a vibrant, serious-minded pizza culture.

Sure, we may not have our own style of pizza — well, aside from a certain rectangular pie in Adelphi — but we have pizza-makers here who are turning out rounds with a seriousness of purpose, drawing from the best in Neapolitan traditions.

Give a listen this afternoon to our discussion about D.C.'s evolving pizza culture. Then give us your thoughts on the scene. Metro Connection airs at 1 p.m. today on WAMU, 88.5 FM. It rebroadcasts at 5 a.m. on Saturday.

There's no getting around this: We're endlessly fascinated by the eating habits of the rich and famous.

Maybe we should be embarrassed by this fact, as if I have nothing better to do than chase down what French president Nicolas Sarkozy and first lady Carla Bruni ate at Ben's Chili Bowl and you have nothing better to do than read about it. Yep, I'm sure we should. It's a slippery slope from here. Next thing you know, Y&H will start detailing the eating habits of cougars.

The most-read items of the week:

1. Mystery Solved: President Sarkozy and First Lady Bruni Split a Half-Smoke
2. What the Hell Did President Sarkozy and Carla Bruni Eat at Ben's Chili Bowl? (*)
3. Yes, Virginia Ham, D.C. Is a Sandwich Town
4. Taylor Rolls Out New Pork Sandwiches Next Week
5. Taylor Gourmet to Open Third Shop in Bethesda

* A certain light-drinking Budweiser beer was, once again, a popular item among readers, but we’ve stopped counting it.

Half the enjoyment of eating at Seventh Hill Pizza, a Best of D.C. award winner this year, is watching pizzaiolo Anthony Pilla at work. During my most recent visit this weekend, I briefly chatted with Pilla over the counter at the Capitol Hill pizzeria, as he bounced around the prep area, forming dough and putting the finishing touches on pizzas and Nutella dessert calzones.

He's originally from Cleveland, he told me. At one point, he considered a career in advertising, but once he got a taste of true Italian pizza-making, at a pizzeria in his hometown, he turned his back on the world of Mad Men forever. He even traveled to Naples to better understand his subject and, four months later, became a certified pizzaiolo. 

As you can see in this video, Pilla delivers his hard-earned knowledge with considerable flair. He even, on occasion in the workplace, breaks out a few Italian phrases, delivered in an accent that cleverly disguises his Midwestern roots.

The pie-maker at Seventh Hill Pizza is named "Anthony," an employee tells me at the pizzeria on Capitol Hill. Try as I might to secure his surname, I can't get the job done because no one, the following day, will pick up the damn phone at the place. No matter. Anthony is a show all by himself. He has style to burn. Every move he makes with the raw dough — flipping, spinning, stretching, securing the round on his peel — has more flair than your average NFL end-zone celebration.

His crusts, by contrast, don't feel the need to show off. They're ultra-thin and crispy, which makes me think Anthony doesn't use olive oil in his dough. Perhaps Anthony doesn't let his dough rise long enough, either. His crusts are content to supply a basic cracker-ness, but they're also nicely chewy and his toppings provide more than enough flavor to fill in the blanks.

 I'm particularly fond of the Navy Yard toppings ($10.95 for a small), mostly because of the Toulouse sausage, which releases enough grease along the surface to add a layer of fatty goodness to the pie. The French sausage is not only a delicious addition but also a sly indication of Seventh Hill's owners: They're the same folks behind Montmartre.