By Tom Sietsema
Washington Post Magazine
Sunday, October 19, 2003

One room of this neighborhood restaurant is painted pale green and sports a faux aquarium in its fireplace. Another is moody in soft purple and comfy with booths, and offers pretend windows with a view of pretend stars. There are leopard-print couches in the bar and a mannequin wearing sunglasses near the host stand. So don't expect the menu to be mainstream. Stardust's chef, Pat Phatiphong, is Thai, and his background makes itself known in a number of dishes; skewered pork, for example, gets backup from jasmine rice and peanut dipping sauce. But the food isn't easily classified (which part of the globe gets credit for spinach salad tossed with bacon, "Siberian" dressing and a garnish of smoked mussels?). There's not a single dessert worth sticking around for-the pecan pie tastes like a candy bar, hazelnut creme brulee reveals no sign of its featured flavor-but there are enough satisfying performances to keep you in your seat until the third act. One of them is a shrimp tempura appetizer, hot, light, juicy and invigorated with wasabi mayonnaise. Another is whole fried fish, maybe sweetly fresh flounder dressed up with ribbons of carrot and beet and framed in bok choy. But oysters are baked under too much Parmesan, chicken wings show up dry beneath their red wine glaze, and fettuccine with gorgonzola sauce, sweet corn, spinach and pine nuts is pleasant-but nothing more. Not so the staff, which is invariably energetic and efficient.