Breakfast

Tom Sietsema wrote about Domku's breakfast as part a longer story in November 2008.

One reason I like to drop by Domku Bar and Cafe now and then is for the opportunity to graze on dishes from parts of the world that are poorly represented in the Washington area: Scandinavia and the Slavic regions. Another reason I like to visit this funky Petworth storefront, particularly at breakfast, is to fill up on one of the best versions of hash around. Based on diced carrots, potatoes and bits of salmon, the small mound of peppery hash shows up with a perfect poached egg draped in an assertive mustard sauce and garnished with bright red roe. Easy on the eyes and easy on the palate, the dish is a complete meal in a bowl for only $8.

It keeps good company. The kitchen also makes heart-shaped waffles fragrant with cardamom and a fine Norwegian pancake that covers an entire plate. The latter gets a cluster of fresh fruit -- creamy banana, sliced strawberries, halved grapes -- and a little pot of clear syrup. Looks are deceiving; that sweetener is flavored with lavender, a lush touch. A breakfast sandwich consisting of eggs and mild white cheese between toasted bread, shored up with brown beans, pales in comparison, but I like the option of the amber-hued Pom Fizz if I'm not heading straight to work: pomegranate wine, champagne and a squeeze of lemon proves both refreshing and delicious.

Domku will not be mistaken for a hotel dining room. With its mismatched chairs and tables representing at least four different decades, the place suggests a consignment shop. But I dig the background music selected by owner Kera Carpenter, which might segue from hip-hop to country to lounge in the time it takes you to eat your eggs.

Breakfast served 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Thursday through Sunday. Dishes $4 to $12.

(Nov. 30, 2008)

Sietsema Review

Transatlantic Crossings

By Tom Sietsema
Sunday, June 19, 2005
"I didn't know she was opening a restaurant, and she didn't know I was a chef."

Eric Evans is recalling how he met his current boss, Kera Carpenter, at a neighborhood meeting over a year ago. Carpenter, a former Peace Corps volunteer in Poland, was interested in opening a restaurant in the District's Takoma area, and Evans, a stranger, had come to support her request for a liquor license. Months later, the two ended up joining forces, transferring her concept to Petworth and broadening it with some of his input.

For Evans, W Domku, which loosely translates from Polish as "in the little house," is a bit of a homecoming. "I was born in Petworth!" he says with relish. The food he is making these days is pretty familiar to him, too, though his last cooking job was completely different, at the defunct downtown steakhouse Jordans. When Evans was a youngster, his parents sent him on chaperoned trips to Norway, Denmark and Sweden, he explains. "They thought it was a better education." Good call, I think to myself when my order of meatballs is placed before me. Soft, soothing and draped with a light gravy, they get a splash of color from some bright red lingonberries.

Pow! For those who choose to drink aquavit, the liquor so potent it brings to mind liquid barbed wire, dinner begins with a bang. The clear vodka is infused with the likes of caraway, rose petal, dill, vanilla, red chili or --- my favorite --- lemon grass and ginger, and offered by the shot or a flight (three glasses) for $16.

Aquavit turns out to be a nice foil to the subtle flavors on the small menu, whether beet soup or a serving of sprats, silvery baby herring eaten with rye crisp, sweet mustard, chopped onion, capers and gherkins. The potato-and-bacon-filled dumplings known as pirogi are tame but tasty, their tops slicked with sour cream. A pink slab of smooth pate, ringed in gently sweet aspic, would look at home on an elegant buffet; a couple of plump browned sausages on carrot-laced sauerkraut prove homey and strapping. Of the sandwiches, I'm most drawn to crawfish, fennel and bell peppers bound in lemony mayonnaise and tucked inside a baguette.

Domku has the casual feel of a community center, with mismatched couches and chairs, a small bar, even a game room in the rear, replete with pool table. And on Wednesday evenings, the bill of fare extends to live music. "I wanted a homelike environment," Carpenter says. Her neighbors will find just that.