707 G St. NW
Indebleu gets you talking about your food, and the conversation won't be dull.
When my friend insisted that we have spaghetti and meatballs for dessert -- at an Indian-French fusion restaurant? -- I figured it was a typo in her e-mail. Not at all. The server brought a potato ricer to our table and held it over a plate. The product looked like pasta, but it was saffron-cardamom ice cream, delicious with the gulab jamun "meatballs," donut balls in a not-too-sweet syrup. Next time, I'm not sharing!
We swooned over the sauteed fois gras topped with chocolate and served on brioche with a port-wine reduction. Imagine the richest chocolate croissant you've ever had, but meaty. (I will not be sharing this one, either.)
I didn't catch the name of the co-owner, a cheerful woman who stopped to ask if we were enjoying our meal, but I flagged her down the next time she passed so that I could rave about the spring-mushroom pasta with English peas, crispy greens and a bit of curry. I think I said something like, "This is what all pasta aspires to be." I can't remember the last time that a bite of pasta cleared my mind of all coherent thoughts other than "ummmm."
Some of the more exotic-sounding dishes (snow pea nest, curried shrimp fries) were tasty but not stand-outs. Half of the dinner menu was small plates, encouraging experimentation.
I'm trying to imagine "duck chili relleno," a chili pepper stuffed with duck confit, spinach and queso fresco, topped with basil vermouth cream and sherried cashews. I'm not certain that the chef can achieve fusion here, but I'd be willing to give it a chance.