Latest news with #Centrolina

Washington Post

A decade after opening, Centrolina is as enticing as ever

Dreaming about opening her first restaurant, Amy Brandwein says, she picked a name that referenced downtown and sounded feminine. The food would be Italian, no surprise given Brandwein's eight or so years working as a 'happy engaged soldier' for Italian maestro Roberto Donna. She had a clear vision of what she wanted her notion to look like: 'California cool with New York hustle and bustle.' Ten years later, Centrolina in CityCenterDC is packed when competitors aren't, growing when other restaurants are contracting, and as enticing as when I first ate there in June 2015. Dishes like her white Bolognese — so smooth, so comforting — help fill the room. A mainstay for years, the pasta is one of those plates Brandwein takes off only to put back on again, a lot, because the combination of ground veal, beef, parmesan and sage is a winning formula even in summer. Not that the chef isn't learning new tricks. Fruit-topped pappardelle, anyone? I'll admit I was skeptical until I remembered where I was. Turns out diced pickled rhubarb, strawberries, tomatoes and mint have a great affinity for one another, especially when they're supported with roasted fennel and parmesan. Honestly, I've never had a pasta here that I haven't Hoovered. Gnocchi eat like clouds embedded with sails of crisp pork jowl, for instance, while ricotta-plumped pansotti decked out with morels and asparagus tells time like a clock. Centrolina is the kind of restaurant where servers seem to read minds, or at least anticipate diners' wishes. Could we order a few appetizers before committing to entrées? 'Sure' — the response every time I've asked at Centrolina — sounds so much sweeter than the usual 'Chef prefers you order everything at once so it can be paced out.' Brandwein says she has a soft spot for Sicily. The proof is in her thrilling crudo, one night lightly seared bites of swordfish in a pale green sauce, electrified with jalapeño, another evening slices of beef-red yellowfin tuna alternating with bright-orange coins of sweet potato. The tuna is finished with squiggles of fried spaghetti, stained black with squid ink. Summer brings steamy weather but also sweet, plump soft-shell crabs, which the chef props up on polenta lightened with (surprise!) coconut puree, a combination I wouldn't have thought of but am glad Brandwein did. She crushes artichokes, too. Takers get them four ways — fried, of course, but also creamed, roasted and shaved — in one lovely, lemony salad rounded out with frisee and parmesan. Grilled beef tongue was not a hit at my table; companions and I zeroed in on the appetizer's garden of pickled vegetables and broccoli rabe, leaving behind thin, leathery slices of meat. But everything else cooked over wood at Centrolina has been a home run. Part of that is good shopping, and part of that is a chef who knows a beautiful piece of snapper doesn't need much more than salt and pepper and a little time over a wood fire. (Well, that and coins of confit potato and glistening olives to support the fish.) Garnishes are used with restraint; plates are never overdressed. Pink slices of duck breast are arranged like a tepee over grilled vegetables and a sauce made crimson with beets and sweet-tart with kumquats. No more, no less. The chef exhibits confidence and follows it with consistency. You'll want to order some house-baked bread with your meal. The grissini are great companions to cocktails, and the whole-wheat sourdough and springy focaccia are perfect sops for sauces, including the coffee-jolted balsamic reduction with the grilled lamb. Diners sit on teal banquettes beneath gold balloon lights in a dining room ringed by windows and white brick. Most nights, Brandwein stands in front of the open kitchen, a calm orchestra conductor. Ten years has given me the opportunity to sit in a lot of seats at Centrolina. My favorite landing spots are the tucked away Table 26 and any stool at the central bar. (The chef says she likes the chef's booth in sight of the cooks.) The sunlight that streams through the windows at lunch and early dinner? The frisson of a roomful of engaged diners? I've seen similar scenes unfold in beloved restaurants in California and New York: Brandwein's initial intentions fully realized, in other words. The feminine design tilt extends to the team, including general manager Liz Martinez and chef de cuisine Mary Mendoza. Brandwein says women tend to 'inspire each other' and be 'more collaborative.' They understand each other, she adds, struggles included. Mendoza is a multitasker who also creates the desserts. Her green panna cotta flavored with crème de menthe and staged with shards and pearls of chocolate makes a distinguished farewell. Centrolina opened with a little market on one side and expanded over time to include Piccolina, a casual, all-day cafe across the alleyway, and a chef's salon within Centrolina, where Brandwein occasionally cooks solo on Fridays and is joined by guest chefs some Wednesdays. (Following the pandemic, Brandwein says she missed her friends in the business. Sharing a stage with them rectified the problem.) The pedestrian passage outside is typically dressed for the season. Most recently, Pride colors formed an eye-catching arch. The head-scratcher: The owner has been a James Beard finalist for Mid-Atlantic best chef award five times, but has never won. Give her the honor already! The secret to running a successful restaurant for 10 years involves sweat and tears (hold the blood, fortunately). 'I have to earn it every day,' says Brandwein, who thinks a staff that sees the boss show up early and often is motivated to follow suit. 'You're only as good as your last meal.' My last meal was wonderful. I expect the next ones — even those years from now — to be similar.