Buddha Bar

In Washington, a Buddha bore
Local link in chain proves weak
By Tom Sietsema
Septeber 19, 2010

The moment you step inside Buddha Bar, you leave Washington for ...

Some nights, the nearly 10,000 square feet feel like New York, especially when your entrance is prefaced by a rope and a suit outside. Women who could double as cover girls (Those smiles! Those legs!) look up from a glowing screen to ask if you have a reservation. If you don't already know that this is part of a far-flung collection of watering holes, the display of CDs, T-shirts and incense sticks with the Buddha Bar imprint will clue you in.

The flashy new lounge and restaurant, unleashed in May, also suggests Las Vegas. Even at lunch, there's the sense of the illicit. It might be sunshine and blue skies outside, but inside, the low lighting and chill music spell late night. Surveying the vast interior -- starting with a radioactive-red bar bordered with murals depicting Asian tattoos and embracing a DJ booth and Buddah Bar's 18-foot-high inspiration in shiny black onyx -- a friend with more than a little design sense labels the style "Victoriental." Buddha Bar's tasseled chandeliers, theater-length curtains and luxe fabrics support the mini-review.

Better to gawk than to graze here, because it takes some hunting on the pan-Asian menu to find food you'd want to try again. Spring rolls stand on their plate like edible Stonehenges; the fried snacks taste mostly of steamed cabbage. Buddha Bar's beef satay is so soft, I wonder how it stays on its skewer. "No need for teeth!" a pal says as he encounters the mushy meat, which comes with a vague basil dipping cream. One night, the best of a dozen dishes I sampled was an $8 side dish of noodles with onions and carrot threads. It tasted familiar, not unlike the grub from my neighborhood Chinese carryout that also sells subs and pizza.

There's a page of sushi and rolls, most of them disappointing. Blindfolded, I would have had trouble distinguishing the dark red tuna from the pale yellowtail; both fish shoot blanks on the tongue. Pink Lady, one of several rolls I sampled, combines crab, lobster and shrimp tempura with a cloying sesame sauce that appeared to be the work of a pastry chef.

I thought I'd eaten every variation of tuna tartare there is, but the kitchen delivered a first: "Deconstructed tuna," our server announced as she tried to find room on a crowded table for a plate lined with separate dollops of diced raw fish, diced avocado and the minced relish known as pico de gallo. "Just mix them together," she instructed. (Um, why am I paying $15 to assemble an appetizer?) There are chips on the side of the plate to use as scoops, but they're so fragile, they snap apart on contact with the tartare. (And, why, despite all the components, is the appetizer so lackluster?)

Odds are in your favor here if you like sugar and mayonnaise. Sugar, in particular, is used with abandon in this kitchen. You encounter sweetness in the sauce that borders that tuna tartare and again in the vaguely spicy red curry with shrimp, and yet again with one night's special roll involving salmon, tuna and tropical fruit that brought to mind Hawaiian Punch.

The dark bamboo tables are attractive but impractical, because anything more than three dishes becomes a crowd. Despite the servers' best efforts at maneuvering, patrons find themselves surrendering all but what's absolutely essential to accommodate their orders. "Does anyone want sugar?" a server asked at one point, removing a condiment holder along with our water glasses.

At a recent lunch, we're encouraged to order the beef sliders. "We're having a competition on who can sell the most," our waitress says, then starts spinning: "But I wouldn't recommend anything I didn't like." The only detail I can appreciate on the plate is the toasted buns. Otherwise, the three two-bite hamburgers are a little dry (and sweet from their sauce). The "truffle-flavored" french fries that come with them aren't just false advertising, they're clearly commercial.

The adage that frying makes just about anything edible is true when it comes to starters of rock shrimp and calamari. In the first dish, the crackle of tempura gives way to the juiciness of the seafood, streaked with a chili-fueled mayonnaise that reinforces the richness of the appetizer. Salt and pepper calamari is true to its description, and hot (with jalapeño rings) to boot. If you absolutely, positively need to sate your curiosity about this extravaganza, these are the nibbles to seek out.

It might be hard to hear the crunch in the former or spot the heat source in the latter, at least at dinner. As the evening progresses, the music amps up and the lights go down. Miners' helmets should have been part of the design budget here.

The antidote to most bad meals: booze. But the cocktails at Buddha Bar hark to a time before ice was treated with reverence and bartenders became artists. The sweet mixed drinks here appear to have been created in a tiki hut, hold the little umbrellas.

That old warhorse, chocolate cake with a fluid chocolate center, is trotted out for dessert. I tried it so you don't have to. The strawberry tart surprises me, and in a pleasant way: Unlike just about everything else at Buddha Bar, it keeps its sweetness in check.

The original Buddha Bar opened in Paris in 1996. Built for an estimated $10 million, Washington's Buddha Bar is the world's 12th. Among its thoughtful amenities are leather stands for purses and sleek carafes for diners to dispense their own sodas and iced tea. In the end, though, Buddha Bar is just a garish theme park with too few worthy attractions: the "Real Housewives" of D.C. restaurants.

Buddha Bar's worldly vibe
By Fritz Hahn
Friday, June 4, 2010

The buzz: Buddha Bar, which first opened in Paris in 1996, has a solid international reputation, with branches in such cities as Dubai, Kiev and Monte Carlo. The lounge is also known for its soundtrack mixes, which combine house, world music and chilled-out grooves, and are sold around the world.

A main factor in its appeal: Though Buddha Bar has all the trappings of a nightclub, from DJs to bottle service, it is primarily a restaurant, serving food until 1 a.m. on weekends, so it draws an older, not-quite-clubbing crowd.

Perhaps that's why there was such a buzz a few years ago when a group of investors announced they were bringing Buddha Bar to Washington. Despite, or maybe because of, those expectations, the place has been given a mixed reception since its opening in early May on the edge of Chinatown. It has been both welcomed with open arms and subject to a bit of a backlash.

The international reputation probably explains the Tower of Babel vibe I've gotten on occasion, catching snippets of Hebrew, French, Spanish and Italian floating through the lounge. And more than once, I've found that the people hanging out were here for a convention and came over because they'd been to the Paris original.

On the other hand, a friend jokes that the place is like "Hot Tub Time Machine" -- make that "Night Club Time Machine" -- because its aesthetic feels dated. Where we've seen an increase in mixologists crafting old-school cocktails, Buddha Bar has a menu heavy on drinks based on flavored vodkas and a full section of Saketinis, which were last a big deal in D.C. around the turn of the millennium. While popular lounges have shifted to a minimalist, modern look (think Current, Josephine or the Shadow Room), Buddha Bar's decor is a sumptuous mix of deep reds and burnished golds, from the walls to the low couches in the lounge.

Floor-to-ceiling curtains line the front walls. A 20-foot Buddha statue, brought from Indonesia, gazes serenely over the dining room. The lighting is soft and flattering. Despite the two-story ceilings, Buddha Bar never feels cavernous. (The only odd note: the glowing white cube of a DJ booth set high on one wall, which feels distinctly out of place with the rest of the room.)

Music, too, sticks to Buddha Bar's worldly oeuvre: downtempo electronica, Bollywood remixes. The sound system is world-class, with dozens of speakers. A DJ from the Parisian Buddha bar is in charge until later this month, when locals will take over.

The warm vibe was an instant hit with Stephanie Carpenter and her husband, Khaalis, who were enjoying drinks in the lounge with friend Shelly Dames.

"It's sensual," said Stephanie Carpenter, 37. "It has a really sexy feel." She had almost as much praise for her house BB Gin and Tonic, which adds mint, vanilla sugar and grapefruit to the familiar mixed drink.

"I think it's beautiful," said Dames, 37. "The ambiance is luxurious. I want to have a party here."

The scene: Happy hour draws suited work groups, couples grabbing snacks at the bar, and plenty of girls-night-out get-togethers around tables in the lounge. One night, a group of men on their way out told me "the ratio [of women to men] in there is probably 3-to-1." They weren't far off.

On weekends, the music gets a little louder, as does the buzz from the crowd, and there are more people standing around the bar. (Despite the focus on the DJs, Buddha Bar doesn't have a dance floor.)

And if you're not inside by 11 p.m., you'll find dozens of people in line outside. To guarantee admission, you need to reserve a table for bottle service, which starts at 10 p.m., or get a table for dinner. Everything else is first-come, first-seated.

Nick Monoje, a 34-year-old banker, complained that five friends had to wait outside for 40 minutes one Saturday night. "And the place was half-empty. You can do that in New York, but you can't do that in D.C."

That didn't stop him from coming back, though. "I don't think the food is up to par with the rest of the vibe of the place. I was expecting a better meal. But the vibe is cool."

If you want to skip the lines, says general manager Shelly Galloway, the easiest way is to make a dinner reservation, then move over to the lounge or bar after eating. The last dinner seating is at 12:45 a.m. on Friday and Saturday, or an hour earlier the rest of the week.

In your glass: For the most part, the drinks are sweet concoctions that follow a vodka-and-fruit formula, or pile on flavored liqueurs. The cocktails with the most personality feature Asian ingredients.

Spicy Thai chili peppers star in two of the best: the Ying Coco Yang, a smooth gin cocktail where chilis are balanced by rich coconut cream and fresh lime juice, and the Pineapple Spicy Martini, where muddled pineapple chunks and pineapple liqueur benefit from the potent kick.

Other standouts include the Heart of Darkness Port, a full-bodied drink that plays port and muddled grapes off a cinnamon syrup, and Wow!!, a gin cocktail that lives up to its name with a liberal dose of white pepper, pomegranate liqueur and raspberry syrup.

Strangely, for a bar that offers 25 different sakes and that menu of sake-based cocktails, only two sakes are available by the glass. (Maybe they assume that because a third of the sakes are $30 or less per bottle, you'll just order them that way.)

On your plate: The lo mein-style Buddha Bar Hot Noodles were good, but not very spicy. Not so with the peppery bowl of battered Rock Shrimp.

The sushi rolls were great, including the Buddha Bar, which managed to wrap in spicy tuna, yellowtail and snow crab. But for the most part, the menu doesn't tell you what's in the rolls, and the bartenders don't always know. "I haven't tried that," one confessed when asked what was in the Spider Roll.

Price points: Given the nature of the place, drink prices are reasonable. House martinis and cocktails are $10. Champagne cocktails are $1 more. Mixed drinks made with premium spirits (rum, vodka, whiskey, etc.) are $9. Appetizers and sushi rolls range from $8 to $15.

Need to know: There's no cover charge or dress code.

Nice to know: Even if you're avoiding alcohol, you can still enjoy a drink. The "Mocktails," priced at $5, include the spicy, fizzy Saigon Dream (ginger, cinnamon syrup, fresh-squeezed lime, apple juice and ginger ale) or the fruity Dragon Fly (peach nectar, orange, lemon and soda water).