The Inn at Little Washington: So Worth It
This post by DCist contributor Gayle S. Putrich
No need to worry. Everything you have heard about dining at the Inn at Little Washington is still true. Yes, it is a long drive from our beloved District of Columbia. Yes, it is very expensive. And yes, it is worth the hour and a half (or more) in the car and every single damn penny.
A friend and I spent what felt like a week getting there one Friday night. There was major trauma on the road. Traffic. An accident. A missed turn. You name it. We were an hour late for our 6 p.m. reservation. We called three times en route because we were terrified that they would send us home without dinner as punishment for our tardiness; if we ever even got there. Or worse, we worried, that we would have to gnaw off our own arms in the bar while waiting another hour for a table. But the folks at the Inn were indescribably gracious with each call and actually just seemed pleased we finally made it when we arrived. Happily, the service only got better from there.
Cocktails came quickly and we were never rushed as we spent close to 45 minutes poring over the menu. We sampled bread and nibbled a handful of amuse-bouches. Of the supplied amuse, Chinese spoons with mouthfuls of tuna sashimi and peppered mascarpone were tasty, but we both favored the demitasse of creamy parsnip soup.
Sommelier Sabato Sagaria made our night with his wine selections and easy-going manner while he bolstered our egos with his gentle approval of the few wine selections we managed to make on our own. He also found a pinot noir that we fell in love with (so much so that we came home with a carefully removed label tucked into an Inn at Little Washington greeting card to remember it by).
The carpaccio of herb-crusted baby lamb with tabouli and rosemary mustard was beyond paper-thin; a delicious lace delicately arranged on the plate. The mango-mint salsa topping the prawns with charred onions was fruity without being cloying, highlighting the sweetness of prawns that were more akin to morsels of lobster than the overgrown shrimp so often and so easily overcooked by lesser kitchens.
A dish of minced squab with Virginia peanuts and shiitake mushrooms in hoisin sauce on a pile of perfect baby romaine lettuce leaves was either an American twist on an Asian lettuce wrap or an Asian twist on a stellar American game dish, I'm still not sure. And with exceptional flavors like that, who cares? You should be concentrating on not licking your fingers in such a nice place, anyway.
My dining companion's beef two ways (pecan-crusted B.B.Q. short ribs and a miniature filet mignon wrapped in Swiss chard) was almost enough to make me jealous. Almost. But I venture say my pepper-crusted tuna pretending to be a filet mignon was better than his actual filet. Fancy-pants D.C. steakhouses might drop a pat of butter on top of your steak for some far-from-Kosher tastiness, but my masquerading filet was topped with seared foie gras and perched on a nest of carrot and zucchini ribbons in a velvety wine reduction; I missed neither the cow nor the butter.
The Inn at Little Washington is extravagant without being ostentatious; superb without being pretentious. Proof positive of the lack of pretension? When my dining companion—not much of a dessert person—decided on a cheese plate for the finale, it was served up by a gracious and knowledgeable waiter with the highest honor bestowed on cheese: presentation on a cow-shaped cart named Faria that actually mooed.
My second course, a sprig of parsley laminated between two transparent slices of potato and fried, adorning a delicate black truffle-dusted scallop, was indicative of both the meal and the Inn at Little Washington experience in general; that kind of attention and thought goes into every detail.
So, save up, go, and savor.
The Inn at Little Washington
Middle and Main Streets
Washington, VA
540-675-3800
Photo from peter_r used with permission.