After having my first meal at DAD last night, I think we should put this place in the Smithsonian, the Louvre. . and my backyard. Forget AIG, Citibank and their stimulus packages - this place should be first on the list of preservation. It promises a superior product and an immediate return on investment.
It should held up for all to see as that special, rare and rewarding combination of fantastic service, food as both comfort and art, and the preservation of American classics with a tip of the hat to American ingenuity. Along with Habana Libre (and ol' fave Paradise Pup) this joint provided my best meal in the past two years.
The pot roast sammich is perfectly embraced by a fluffy egg bun (I believe) that promises to hold together only long enough for you to finish the offering. By the time you're on your last bites, the bun will have wilted after vailaintly holding up mounds of steaming, tender beef, and absorbing rivers of heavenly gravy. The absoprtion of this gravy into the bun is also something not to be missed. The pot roast itsels is as tender as any you've had, and absolutely melts in your mouth like Sabri's nehari (on Devon).
I'm not a fan of gravy. I never really have been because most of the time I find it invasive, too sweet, too starchy, and too out of place. It ruins the integrity of base ingredients to me. However, this gravy is fantastic and well-balanced. It's bold but unimposing and when poured on top of the fries at DAD it's unsurpassed in my experience. I could eat this every day.
I finished the meal with a slice of coconut cream pie and the legendary donuts. The pie was a solid rendition, and clearly house-made (bonus points! If you don't make your own pies, you're not trying!)
The donuts were mana from heaven. Steaming and moist interior with a crispy shell, covered in sugar, powdered sugar, and then dipped into a chocolate sauce.
Somehow I managed to drag my overstuffed carcass from DAD and head down the street to Fitzgerald's to see Texan folk legend Jimmy Lafave embrace an entire crowd of strangers and turn them into his best friends with a simple menu of honest lyrics, emotional musings, and humbled offerings of a good man's soul. So as to music, so as to food - when soemthing is real, and True and speaks to the soul, rather than the eyes or ears, you know its something special and uncommon.
As Jimmy poured his soul over that microphone like gravy on fries, like chocolate sauce on donuts, his opening lines from the song "Never is the Moment" made me think of a very special diner down the road:
In the vastness of this world,
Baby, you are so unique.Indeed, Jimmy. Indeed.