Vidalia

1990 M St., Washington, D.C., Tel: (202) 659-1990
Southern Cuisine

Dinner, Mon.-Sat.
Closed Sunday.
Lunch, Mon.-Fri.
Reservations suggested.

Downtown/Dupont Circle South
1990 M St., NW (bet. 19th & 20th Sts.), Washington, DC, 20036 (202) 659-1990 

It's not just the "namesake onions" that chef-owner Jeffrey Buben transforms
into "downright glamorous" fare; his "imaginative" renditions of Southern classics have made his "sunny basement dining room" ("looks like Van Gogh by way of Valdosta") a "premier" M Street site for "expense-account comfort food"; be sure to ask about his "fine wines." 

By Zagat Survey

 Jeff Buben keeps getting better and better. His sunny-yellow below-ground restaurant is comfortable and quiet, smoothly run and elegant -- a Washington powerhouse. His menu is continually refreshing, a matter of seasonal New American dishes with a slight Southern accent. You might think you're on a veranda as you sip rosemary-spiked fresh lemonade and nibble cream-enriched corn bread, truly fine biscuits and yeasty flatbread squares topped with caramelized Vidalia onions. The wine list is impressive, too, of course.

For some chefs, asparagus would be enough for an asparagus salad. Buben's also includes marinated fresh morels and a supporting cast of yellow potatoes and onions dressed with mushroom oil. A chicken club sandwich is not a matter of white bread, mayo and sliced breast meat; it's a kind of summery appetizer napoleon with paper-thin sheets of crisp dough layering the chicken, vegetables and a touch of ham -- not with gravy, but red-eye vinaigrette.

These days you can rate Southern restaurants by their shrimp with grits, and Vidalia's are top-notch, with shrimp that taste sea-fresh and firm rather than mushy and grits that nearly melt into a puddle but have the crunch of stone-ground coarseness. The other entrees have seductive side dishes, too: turnip gratin and Swiss chard with walnuts accompanying the liver, onion-dusted chips beside the swordfish club, a grits cake nuzzling the seared salmon, and garlic mashed potatoes, glazed parsnips, kale and carrots surrounding short ribs. This is a restaurant where I might be compelled to order a vegetable plate.

It's also a restaurant where I would undoubtedly save room for dessert -- or make room if I hadn't saved any. The creme brulee is as close to perfect as vanilla-scented custard and crackly caramelized sugar could dream of becoming. And the season's fruits find their way into crisps, shortcakes and tarts -- even sometimes into the creme brulee. Vidalia is the kind of restaurant where you find yourself checking out the lunch menu as you groan your way out of the dining room after dinner.
By Phyllis C. Richman
Washington Post Staff Writer