Panache of the past

P.J. Clarke’s arrives from New York, bringing its rich history and flair for breathing new life into a bygone era. A few blocks from the White House, Clarke’s offers a dining experience full of energy and sophisticated fun. A Manhattan staple for 129 years, Clarke’s Washington outpost is charmingly cluttered with eccentric photos representing a clientele list of long-gone power brokers. Photos of past presidents, oil barons and powerful and staid 19th century gentlemen line the dark wood paneling. 

A dark motif in a space like Clarke’s runs the risk of feeling oppressive, but the tables’ bright red-and-white checkered clothes lighten the mood. A marble and oak bar stretches across the room, lending an air of camaraderie that seems to say, “Sit down, have a drink, share a story.” 

{mosads}Whimsical and somewhat mysterious, a green wrought-iron solarium, originally designed for the Disney estate, takes center stage in the dining room. Decorated for the holidays, a Christmas tree hangs upside down from the ceiling, adding to the restaurant’s eccentricity. 

The menu offers simple, and oddly complementary, fare: A starter of deviled eggs is light on the mayonnaise with a tingly bite of dill, and the halved eggs bring a smile at both the oddity of seeing them on a menu and their pleasing taste. 

Complementing the picnic-style deviled eggs is Clarke’s roasted free-range turkey club sandwich with smoked bacon and Roth baby Swiss cheese. The smoky bacon and rich cheese bring a twist of sophistication to an otherwise casual meal. Served with a side of lightly fried potato crisps, the turkey club is an ideal quick lunch.

No lunch fare is complete without an array of salad offerings. Clarke’s spices up the chicken Caesar salad with the zing of an extra dash of garlic. The bright green of fresh, crisp lettuce cut in bite-sized pieces makes a pleasing bed for the large, perfectly grilled chicken slices. 

Behind the solarium lies a staircase that ushers diners into Clarke’s private dining room: The Sidecar. This is where P.J. Clarke’s shines in all of its sophisticated glory. Unlike upstairs, where the tables are tightly wedged together in typical New York style, The Sidecar’s tables are generously spaced to allow for intimate and private dining. The seats are dark leather. The blonde wood paneling walls display images of the political and social elites who frequented such clubs in times past. The private bar offers an assortment of wine and spirits that perfectly accompany the elite Sidecar dining experience. 

Clarke’s dinner menu leans toward seafood. While the restaurant presents an array of American pub fare, its seafood offerings raise the ordinary menu to a more cultured level. 

The jumbo lump crab cake, served on a bed of tartar sauce and parsley oil, would do well in Maryland. Generous chunks of crab are shaped in a lightly breaded, pan-seared rounds. The cakes are delightfully flavorful, depending more on the quality of the crab and spices than on the fillers so often found in this type of dish. 

Clarke’s Crisp Point Judith calamari is another highlight. Arriving thinly sliced, the calamari are wrapped in a light batter with a hint of lemon, perfectly fried and not overly chewy.

A more casual seafood offering is the Maine lobster roll sandwich. Served with sweet slaw and potato chips, this sandwich is short on mayonnaise and long on lobster meat. Green onions give the sandwich an extra brightness.

Tucked between the seafood selections and the prime Angus beef steaks and burgers is the chicken pot pie. As winter presses down upon Washington, this dish is bound to be in hot demand. The rich and soothing sauce is thick with chunks of chicken, carrots, potatoes and peas baked in a sweet pastry shell that is neither too doughy or thick but just right to curl up with on a cold and wintery evening. 

For dessert, Clarke’s offers a deep-dish apple cobbler that comes straight from Grandma’s kitchen. Served with cinnamon ice cream and a dollop of cream, the apple cobbler’s steamy rich gooeyness cannot be missed.