That’s true for a lot of elements at this sublime new dining destination at Washington Harbour, created by business partners Farid Azouri and David Nammour, the talent behind the whimsical Residents Cafe & Bar in Dupont Circle.
Check out the interior, formerly home to Bangkok Joe’s. River Club, blessed with abundant natural light and modeled in part from Nammour’s parents’ hotel in Beirut, won’t remind you of another space in town. Diners stroll across inlaid marble tiles, gaze upon French wallpaper and sink into squat fabric chairs that caress rather than torture occupants throughout dinner. Handsome fringed lights illuminate the bar. When’s the last time you found yourself staring at the ceiling of a restaurant? The orange- and terra cotta-colored faux skylight catches, then holds, the eye. To facilitate the look, the owners turned to artisans in Lebanon, a move that put money into an economy that could use it and kept costs down. Even so, River Club, which includes a terrace out front, cost $2 million to bring to life.
Old Washington hands might recall a draw of the same name in the same neighborhood. Turns out Nammour’s father opened an art deco, New American-flavored supper club christened River Club in the 1980s. “Swing music plays, waterfalls fall, and the staff are costumed in black tie,” wrote my predecessor, Phyllis C. Richman, in a 1989 dining guide. While completely different, Nammour’s establishment is a hat tip to his dad.
The owners didn’t have far to look for a chef. Nate Berry simply transitioned from Residents to the kitchen in Georgetown, where the theme is spelled out by waiters as they dole out green suede menus. “We offer Lebanese, Spanish and Italian dishes,” they say, most in the form of mezze and tapas, an enhanced version of the Mediterranean small plates idea at Residents.
Lebanon and Spain make up most of the opening acts. Labneh — strained yogurt speckled with sumac and circling a well of vivid mint oil — is an easy decision, as is mujadara, a little mound of rice and lentils, cozy with spices including cardamom and cumin and creamy with creme fraiche. Soft, sweet caramelized onions complete the dish when it hits the table. (The dips come with an unfortunate delivery vehicle: stiff pieces of pita that taste like they came from a vending machine rather than an oven. You can do better, River Club.) The success of pan con tomate hinges on good bread, tomatoes and olive oil; the restaurant delivers with crushed tomatoes glistening with aromatic, extra-virgin arbequina olive oil and stinging with aged sherry vinegar, a sauce diners heap on slices of grilled ciabatta. Croquetas bulging with ham-laced béchamel are nubby as Tater Tots, rolled in both coarse and ground Japanese breadcrumbs.
Skewers get their own category, and the only one to avoid is a surprise in the middle of summer: supposedly heirloom tomatoes with so little flavor you wouldn’t be able to identify them with your eyes closed. A cover of pureed olives does its best to add oomph. The rest of the skewers are very good, particularly chicken thighs marinated in a bell pepper sauce, and lamb belly alternating with shishito peppers, a skewer staged on honey tinged with harissa and finished with coconut dukkah, a crisp and clever flourish. Come fall, the owners plan to offer “skewer hour,” during which only drinks and kebabs will be served. I know where I’ll be some late afternoon some future weekday.
Head-on prawns are introduced in a cloud of garlic, as pleasing a plate of gambas al ajillo as at tapas king Jaleo in Penn Quarter. Another “medium” plate, another seduction. The soothing paella sweetened with morsels of lobster sports a halo of socarrat dotted with creamy saffron aioli and chile threads. (Socarrat is the scorched rice at the bottom of a pan of paella; Berry just transfers the prize to the top of the main course.) Then there’s the tangy, cheesy, brilliant pasta, which someone at the table really needs to order — and share, difficult as it is.
Platters sized to feed two to four include smoked lamb ribs, whole branzino and whole chicken. My party feasted on the last, brined Green Circle chicken propped up on a bounty of roasted vegetables that benefited from pan juices dripping on them in the oven. (Chefs praise the designer chicken from D’Artagnan; it’s certified humane, air-chilled and hand-processed near farms that raised the birds, a process designed for richer flavor.)
Like the food, the drinks take three paths. Hence the cocktails, some delivered via trolley, variously powered with arak from the Middle East, vermouth from Spain and amaro from Italy.
Dishes get explained as if the chef were introducing them. Without prompting, a lovely barbera is suggested as liquid match for the chicken. River Club deals in fine dining, hold any pretension. The owners allotted $100,000 for hiring and training and hosted 10 friends-and-family nights where guests could order “whatever and however they wanted,” Nammour says. Few restaurants can afford such outlays; suffice it to say, however, that paying customers benefit from the splurge. (A well-deserved 20 percent gratuity is added to your check, but it would be nice if the servers pointed that out when they deliver the bill.)
Take a cue from the vibrant tagliatelle and pick citrus for dessert. The kitchen makes a pleasing lemon tart set in a thin buttery shell. And cheesecake is distinctive thanks to ribbons of phyllo flavored like baklava. Crunch, smile. Crunch, smile.
Mammour’s father hasn’t seen his son’s homage to him yet, but he’s planning to visit River Club in October, reports Mammour. I can only imagine a block beaming at its chip.
River Club
3000 K St. NW. 202-961-3777. riverclubdc.com. Open for dinner 5 to 11 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday, 4 p.m. to midnight Friday and Saturday, 4 to 10 p.m. Sunday. Prices: appetizers and skewers $12 to $48, main courses $25 to $165 (for shareable lamb ribs). Sound check: 74 decibels/must speak with raised voice. Accessibility: No barriers to entry; ADA-compliant restrooms.