The BEST fish and chips in the US!! (I’ve not been to Dublin yet…) This tiny little place on a corner of King Street in Alexandria is owned by Cathal Armstrong, of Restaurant Eve fame, and named after his son. They don’t have many tables as it’s primarily a takeaway, or many items on their menu other than the battered cod and hand cut chips (fries). I think they have a burger and a sausage, but why bother when the fish is really THAT good. You order at the counter (a pint of Guinness is also a must), and they call your name when the food is ready. It all comes in takeaway bags, even if you’re eating there at the semi-communal tables. And it is so piping hot you have to wait a few minutes or you’ll burn your tongue off. But it’s absolutely worth the wait. And I love the motto on the door – ‘Thanks Be to Cod.’

We happened to be here on the Friday evening of the last Harry Potter book release, and all of Alexandria had been transformed into places from the books. Several of the stores were doing themed activities, and there were tiny wizards and witches running up and down the streets. The weather was beautiful and the kids looked absolutely adorable.

Overall, 3 stars out of 4 for Eamonn’s.

For me, stopping in the Barracks Row neighborhood of Capital Heights Southeast for the first time in 20 years (and actually staying and walking around) was the personification of this continued ‘reblooming’ of several high potential, low result areas of the 1980s. Alongside the popular Eastern Market, lately this strip has been unashamedly introducing itself to local residents who migrated here with the telecom, government, and IT booms, also with many who lived here all along but may have been entirely uninterested in coming anywhere near it.

The 2004 addition of Belga Cafe to the Eighth St / Barracks Row scene has been an important part of this area’s growth and recent adoption. The story I’ve read in a few places is that Chef Bart Vandaele was enamored with the friendly attitude and community feel of the area and went right after the space he chose at 514 Eighth St SE without pursuing any others. Though he’d been raised by two chefs (yes, his parents) and ran successful kitchens at the Dutch Embassy and his own catering business, this would be his maiden restaurant foray. I couldn’t tell you how the first three years went, but Belga’s definitely alive and well in 2007.

Our visit was a Father’s Day brunch stop with my parents. As usual, Willy picked the venue. I mean, why would you consider messing with such a good thing? The only glaring mistake on her long, successful record of picking just about anything would be locking me in a theater years ago to see the horrific Flatliners - ugh.

Having an 11:30AM reservation was fortunate: Belga was packed, inside and out, so walk-ins were welcome but obviously left with standby seating outside and at the bar. The hostess, however, was very affable and never made anyone feel less important or oblivious despite the constant need to slide out of the way to avoid exiting customers and the outside servers using the entryway servette to more quickly accommodate sidewalk patrons.We didn’t have to stand long, though, and were seated and greeted right away. Before even considering the potential pairings, three of us went straight to the Leffe Blonde, a fantastic beer that Willy and I fell in love with when we were in St Martin. Luckily the dealbreaker for a great Leffe (and many other great beers) – a very clean tap – was in play and we very likely held in our hands the best tasting draft Leffe Blonde I’ve ever had.

What’s great about this beer is its ability to play extremely well with others, in my opinion. Most guys will tell you that beer is ‘the breakfast of champions’, but that’s because to most of us beer is right up there with breathing on our list of likes and dislikes. Truth is, after today I’m entirely convinced that a Leffe Blonde and a Belga Cafe Ham and Cheese Omelette were made for each other.Sorry – got distracted… about the food: most of us grabbed breakfast food items, which are often hard to judge for review in my opinion, but it was easy to tell based on both quality and originality that Belga was doing a lot and doing it right. We were happy to see portions a little more in line with reality than typical American restaurants. It always amazes me when I get a dozen egg omelette that’s swelling with two pounds of meat, cheese, and veggies. At Belga I had a nicely proportioned omelette that was light in color and texture – seemingly getting a big dose of the ‘heavy whipping cream’ treatment, fluffy and at the same time reasonably thin – perfectly complimented but not overstuffed with the ingredients inside. Playing wingman were tiny diced potatoes which would generally be considered hash browns to those not expecting that to mean ‘crispy and browned’.

Willy had a French Toast which was lightly cinnamoned (I don’t think that’s a verb but nowadays anything can be used as one, so let’s go with it) and Sydney selected a chicken dish resembling a gyro (I wish I would have gotten the name). Fresh cut fries were also served with her meal and the server mistakenly placed these on the side closest to me. Having left St Martin with the emptiness that comes with my last meal actually including frozen fries (why would any French restaurant do this?) I quickly quenched my fresh fry deficit, even threatening to call the server over to order the largest vat of fresh cut portatoes ever ordered on the east coast. I backed off this urge, though I am certain I left Syd wanting for a few more hits of these phenomenal taters.Our conversation long outlasted our food, but that’s pretty normal for us. At Belga, after the food’s all gone you’ve still got a great DC establishment with all the Euro-mod minimalist charm and nothing that even remotely implies some packaged, copied, and transported experience you’d get from one of the megachains sliding a Sysco truck up to their back door on a daily basis. I look forward to a dinner visit and taking the Belgian theme beyond the beer.

- Atmosphere: Charming, row house feel that creates some tight moments getting in, but seating hasn’t been crammed so close that you’re always hitting a neighbor’s chair. The brick wall has been preserved and married with Euro-minimalist chic. Can’t confirm if that sax on the brick wall works, but it’s very cool without function. Artwork and lighting is consistent with the look, and outdoor seating is typical of the better DC sidewalk establishments.

- Food: Fresh, rightsized, with hints of intelligent originality even with the breakfast items. The best omelette I might have ever eaten, though I’ll admit a weakness for the fluffy greasemonsters Waffle House throws my way. Fresh cut fries are a good indicator of attention, and light accents of other fresh ingredients, not overplayed make every item at our table distinct in a sea of standards.- Service: A Belgian server at a Belgian restaurant is about as right as it gets. All aspects of interaction with Belga staff were polite and nowhere close to pretentious from start to finish.

- Overall: If our visit is any indicator, Belga is a great performer that I’m very eager to more deeply explore. Rating: 3.5/5 stars.

- Address and getting there: 514 Eighth St SE, Washington, DC. Take Metro to Eastern Market stop or navigate there using the link here.

OK, I admit I picked this place because my father-in-law is WAY into beer. The fact that they also happen to serve one of my top 2 favorite beers, Leffe Blond, was absolutely inconsequential. Belga actually happens to have a very long list of Belgian beers, I need to come back at least to try some of the others. The restaurant sits in a very charming and revitalized area of Washington, DC, and it was a very sunny day today for walking around.

Our reservation, glad I made one as they were packed, was for 11am. Is it OK to have a beer with brunch? I didn’t care…I’d been waiting since we got back from St. Martin to have a Leffe Blond. I ordered the Wentelteefjes, which was Belgian “French” toast, with homemade syrup, and a side of sausage. It was delicious, very egg-y and the bread was nice and fluffy. The portions are large, the service was very attentive and friendly, and the atmosphere feels very much like a European cafe (ie, if you like a lot of elbow room, this is not the place for you). Overall, 2 1/2 stars out of 4, and we will definitely come back.

We are flying into London first for an overnight to see my dear friend Kirsten and her boyfriend, James. Kirsten and I met on a flight from Boston back to Dulles about 3 years ago. She, of course, was traveling on back to London. I had decided on a whim to upgrade my seat to Business Class at the last minute while checking in. There were several seats available, the one I happened to choose put me in the row with Kirsten. Our plane was very late taking off from Boston, we started talking and didn’t stop all the way back to Dulles. We traded e-mail addresses and have been friends ever since. She has come out of her way to meet up with us twice here in VA over the past couple of years, it’s our turn to reciprocate.

After London, we’re off on a train ride up to Edinburgh. Having never been to London, Scotland, OR on a train this should be an interesting adventure….

Now, if I can just get Syd to remember that the Blarney Stone is NOT in Scotland, but in fact over in Ireland. It’s totally adorable the ideas she has about time, costs, and foreign countries at this age. She thinks we can just ‘zip over’ to Ireland for a quick look ’since it’s so close.’ She also still firmly believes that the Queen will be there to greet her personally as she gets off the plane in London (yes, she thinks she’s royalty as well), and that Scotland is completely overrun with Westies and Scotties. Perhaps I should just let her form her own opinion about the Loch Ness Monster??

The world’s definitely getting closer every day and we’re looking forward to contributing a tiny piece of that sea change right here. Stop by and see where we go as we get there!

We were still way early at this point, but after melting in the Caribbean sun we decided to head for the air-conditioned airport. The rental car return experience with Lesley Bruce of Kenny’s Car Rentals once again couldn’t have been easier. We were early so we had to call him to meet us, and he was at the airport within ten minutes. We checked in (my bag was overweight, but they didn’t charge me!) and made it through security very quickly. The airport has a decent selection of shops so we snagged some adorable bottles of Ma Dhoudhou (flavor-infused rum) for ourselves, my parents and our best friends back home. I also somehow ended up with candy and a T-shirt for Syd, and a very overpriced zip-front sweat shirt hoodie for myself – with ‘St. Barth’s’ stitched across the front. Not that I’ve been to St. Barth’s…yet. SQ gave me a hard time, but as soon as I whipped it out to put on (cold in the airport), he was now jealous of my ‘cute sweatshirt’ and had to have something for himself.

One last BBC at the airport tiki bar and we boarded the plane. After all the great food I’ve had all week I’m now left with a $5 snack box on the US Airways flight back to Charlotte. If we didn’t miss Syd so much we might not have come home at all. SQ even jokingly suggested trying to jump on the wrong plane, an Air France non-stop headed back to Paris. Maybe next time…

We made our way over to Orient Beach – our favorite spot when we were here 14 years ago. The island dogs continued to be amusing, saw a German Shephard by the road this time wearing a very large sleeveless T-shirt. Orient Beach was very disappointing in several ways. The beach is covered with chairs and umbrellas, and the price to rent them is a ridiculous $25/day for the set. It’s a much more crowded beach and the shoreline seems to have changed dramatically since the hurricane several years ago. You can pay to participate in any kind of water activity you choose and there are Americans everywhere. The surf is much more gentle than Baie Rouge however, and the breezes are better. The conversations going on around us are hilarious, but the beach vendors are even more annoying here. I could see Pinel off in the distance – I want to go back over there! The sand on Orient is still great, very powdery white and soft.

After lounging on a chair for the afternoon, and watching a scary cloud come very close to shore, we went back to the condo and finished off my pizza from the night before, along with the bottle of Pinot Noir we had purchased at La Gout du Vin earlier this week. The evening’s activity was the rehearsal dinner for the bride and groom, at the bride’s parents’ villa (Marine Terrace) – down a street in a gated community in Terre Basse. This was a catered event, most appetizer-y food, so I won’t go into anything here.

The staff working at Tropicana are so nice and welcoming. Cristophe was our server and he made some fantastic recommendations. SQ had the veal special, I had the lobster bisque soup, and we split a half bottle of Rose wine. Once again, the food was amazing. We decided to splurge on a dessert, so we got the special for the day – a chocolate mousse cake (more mousse, light crunchy bottom, very light) with mango coulis and a scoop of coffee ice cream. After ALL that Cristophe brought us two shot glasses and a whole bottle of banana-infused rum. On the house, all you care to drink. I had two shots and then attempted to shop. My legs felt like lead, and it was so hot outside. We decided to go back to the condo for a nap, and we almost overslept through the cocktail party at Bliss for the bride and groom – they were the whole reason we were in St. Martin!

Bliss is an uber-chic nightclub right outside Maho, and the bride’s parents had rented it out exclusively for the wedding party and guests for a couple of hours. As we walked up and saw the velvet ropes and bouncers I knew this was not the place for me – a bit too Miami/South Beach. But they had tons of hors d’oeuvres and an open bar. The whole club is completely open-air, beautiful heated swimming pool, and there are large plantation beds and couches kind of scattered everywhere. Probably the best thing about Bliss is the sunset view and watching the airplanes come in to land at the airport close by.

There were some grumblings for dinner around 7:30 or 8pm and a group of us started to walk over to Sunset Beach Bar. When one of the wives found out there was no reggae tonight, but rather a ‘muscle man show,’ I talked them into going back over to Grand Case for food. We all met up at Blue Martini, which is on the non-beach side of the main road, but has beautiful gardens. We grabbed two large tables, and seemed to be the only patrons. Were we early, or late?? Hard to tell at this point, but I hoped the food would be good since I snookered everyone into coming here. Someone in the group ordered the ‘Land and Sea’ salad for the table to share. It was absolutely huge and had quite a bit of shrimp, scallops and duck breast in it – delicious! I ordered a ‘Funghi’ (mushroom) pizza, which turned out to be enough food for four people it was so large. But it was so yummy! SQ ordered the Pork Mignon, and he wasn’t crazy about his dinner, but everyone else seemed to love theirs. Good, I’m off the hook… The atmosphere is nice, it’s quiet but not sure what it’s like in high season. The hookah pipes on several of the tables were pretty funny. And more dogs running around, no shock, they seem to be everywhere. I also got another couple of rounds of Leffe Blond – yum!