Chef Gregory Leon combines the many roots of his existence—Oklahoma, Venezuela, San Francisco, a deep love of the food of Spain and Portugal—into a singular, precise, limited-menu vision in his first full restaurant. There are really only a few things to eat on any given night, so it is with a certain amount of trust that a diner must embark upon the hip Wisconsin Ave eatery. Yet just one meal can teach you to believe in his artistic yet comforting flair. There are the simple fall time pleasures of a smoked trout salad; a skirt steak, plopped in romesco sauce, pepped by shishitos; a pork chop, the tender hunk bathing in adobo sauce, sided with broccoli raab, and, because Leon clearly wants us to be happy, linguica. It’s a buzzy, sceney spot to spend a night downtown, and Amilinda reminds that that can sometimes still be a soulful thing.
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