This is fine dining for VC-funded roughnecks, if John Wayne drove a Cybertruck.
"Before tech, Teslas, Outdoor Voices, Rogan, and 'comedy,' the biggest business in this town was oil, and the second biggest was cows."
Good afternoon, everyone.
I am battling a hangover today after having a late night (martini at Maxime’s, wine at Bemelmans, Pete’s Tavern with varsity Substack Notes user tito baker 🌎 ) so thank you for bearing with me and thank you Terrace Bagels for saving my life.
Today in Feed Me: D.C. tailors are dressing customers up like Chase bank tellers in Brickell, a new Bed-Stuy bakery from a former Vogue contributor, J Lee on Austin’s newest steakhouse, Chase Bank joined Substack, Bloomberg investigates Phoebe Gates’s startup, and frozen yogurt on Canal Street.
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First Look: The Driskill Grill, in Austin, TX. By J Lee
Expense Account is a series on Feed Me by semi-anonymous restaurant critic J Lee. He hosts a podcast with the same name. Today, he wrote about a new steakhouse in Austin that the MML Hospitality team invited him to check out.
The Driskill Grill is the real deal. The historic restaurant, in Austin’s historic Driskill hotel, was taken over by the MML hospitality group this year. It’s been overhauled, revamped, retooled, and polished to a mirror sheen. At its helm is April Bloomfield, the sometimes embattled and always brilliant chef behind The Spotted Pig, and more recently Sailor. April can tell you what is a pub, and what is not a pub. The Driskill Grill is not a pub. It’s a steakhouse, and it’s a proper one.
“I’m not embarrassed to say that I made myself a little sandwich.”
Before tech, Teslas, Outdoor Voices, Rogan, and “comedy,” the biggest business in this town was oil, and the second biggest was cows. The founder of The Driskill was a cattleman, who made his fortune selling beef during the Civil War, so appropriately there is a deep reverence for cows, and for cowboys here. While the Driskill Grill is a properly buttoned up restaurant, with top-notch service, monogrammed butter, salad forks, white table cloths, and beautiful leather banquettes, they’ll never ask you to take off your hat, cowboy or otherwise. This is fine dining for VC-funded roughnecks, if John Wayne drove a Cybertruck. You might come to the Driskill to close a deal, but the real business of the evening is having a good time; smashing ice cold martinis and ice cold seafood towers with abandon. The oysters here are immaculate, and the wedge salad is a real treat. It’s served somewhat deconstructed with a generous serving of tomatoes, a big slice of blue cheese, and a slab of thick cut charred bacon. It’s decadent, refreshing, and perfect. Elegance without austerity.
But there’s more to the Driskill than classic steakhouse fare. The menu is full of little exuberant and slightly experimental moments that are rare at this type of establishment, but never feel out of place. An avocado salad with crispy kale and puffed rice sounds like a weird hippie monstrosity, but it’s texturally vivacious, it tastes familiar and new all at once, and the chili dressing keeps you on your toes; I can’t stop thinking about it. A thai-style crab fried rice might seem out of place on the menu of a Texas steakhouse, but when it’s on your plate next to some chargrilled tomatoes and creamed sweet corn, it almost reads as Southern. Those green thai chilis are great at cutting through fat, and noise, they open up your salivary glands, they prep your mouth for some steak. As if your mouth needed prepping. The dry-aging room holds a prominent spot in the dining room, it’s radiant, and it reminds you that this is a house built BY beef and FOR beef. And this beef is some of the best I’ve had anywhere. I’m no beef expert, and I’ve said before that writing about meat is vulgar (no one needs to read about the bloody flesh of a beast), but there’s just so much depth in each bite of this dry-aged steak. I often feel that I could be a pescetarian, I don’t cook much meat at home, but steaks like these are a reminder of why meat is just so compelling, and why I won’t be quitting it any time soon.
Remember when I said that this is not a pub? Well it’s not, but there is some pub influence, of course. After all, this is an April Bloomfield restaurant. The prime rib is cut tableside and served Sunday roast style with horseradish cream, and the eggiest richest Yorkshire pudding, perfect for sopping up all of those delicious meat juices. I’m not embarrassed to say that I made myself a little sandwich.
By the time the dessert cart rolled around, I was entering a meat coma, but the thing about dessert is that there is always room for dessert. The desserts at the Driskill are delightful. You should order a baked alaska, if not to eat, at least for the pyrotechnics, which are always impressive. It might have been that impending meat coma, or maybe the multiple martinis and all the wine I drank, but the ice cream sundae at the Driskill had me feeling like a giddy overtired delirious little child, so happy and ready for bed. It felt like my birthday.
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My official drink of summer is cheap white wine: riesling, sav blanc, pinot gris, it can come out of a bottle, a can, a box, whatever, on ice, with a heavy splash of cherry Spindrift. Any flavor of Spindrift will work (or even a cheeky little Something & Nothing), but the cherry flavor is new and rare, and absolutely delicious if you’re a cherry head like I am. It also gives you that fomo-inducing color of the perfect summer petnat/co-ferment/rosato, that makes people on Instagram go wild. It looks like an ice cold sunset in a glass, and it tastes like candy made by angels (not too sweet). It’s refreshing, and lets people know that you’re not a snob, you’re here for some fun and you’re thirsty. We’re calling it the Shmandy, and we’ve got till September 7th. Clock starts now. Drink up!
It’s free to post and browse on the Feed Me Job Board. This week’s listings include:
🎨 Designer at defense startup Amca ($80,000-$140,000)
🏠 Real Estate Marketing & Brand Intern at Dasha Zhukova Niarchos-founded residential development company, Ray ($23/hour)
✂️ Communications Manager at The Cutting Room Floor (starting salary $90,000)
D.C. men, particularly “founders and executives in the defense technology space,” have an increased interest in fitted suits. Just when you were about to pull the trigger on that oversized vintage Armani suit on your Grailed watchlist, WSJ has published a story on the rise in popularity of tighter-fitting suits. This is an important conversation, and a timely one considering Wednesday’s Subway Take was that men get in shape for other men, not for women. In the same way, these suits have gotta be for other men because they sure aren’t for me. They remind me a little of the DJs from Long Island bat mitzvahs, and a little like someone who is trying to be part of Andrew Tate’s entourage. A casual Friday Lululemon ABC wearer. A man who posts gym selfies in the poorly-lit hotel gym while traveling for work. It’s also worth noting that D.C. is a terribly dressed city so the correct conclusion is that none of us should listen to what they’re doing.
A former Vogue contributor named Samantha Rees opened a bakery called Saison at 434 Hancock Street in Bed-Stuy. Neighborhood newsletter Bed-Stuy Stoop reported that after Saison entered the neighborhood, “someone pointedly printed off a list of Black-owned bakeries and posted it outside the store.”
From the Feed Me Tip Line: “Have you seen/tried LeLick? An electrolyte lollipop sounds enticing, would love your opinion! My first thought is it be the only ‘wellness’ product that bridges the gap between Pilates girlies and vapers who are maybe trying to quit with its ‘oral sensation.’” I’m guessing the person who sent this works at LeLick. I have two thoughts: I don’t like this site’s A.I.-generated imagery, and I don’t see how a lollipop could hydrate you unless there was a drop of water in the center.
From the Feed Me Tip Line: “Word on the street is that Frenchette is taking over Casa (Brazilian Restaurant) on Duane Street. Those are the only details I have.” I reached out to the Frenchette team for a comment.
These Sun Valley photos from this 1994 issue of Vanity Fair are sick. How far we’ve fallen, sartorially.
Your stupid Hamptons parties are killing piping plover chicks.
Tracy Anderson told the FT about how she banned phones from her workout classes. “The studio is not a content set; it is a practice space. When people enter our rooms, they are stepping into an environment designed to support focus, regulation and creativity. Phones interrupt that relationship.”
Bloomberg reported that Phia, the shopping tool co-founded by Phoebe Gates (daughter of Bill) and Sophia Kianni, claimed credit for online sales it didn’t actually drive. I don’t know anyone who has ever used Phia, so I was surprised when they raised $35 million earlier this year. Per Bloomberg, “Phia registered fake clicks on retailers’ websites, allowing it to replace another referrer’s unique code with its own… This allows Phia to claim a commission for sales it did not meaningfully influence.” Embarrassing. Sophia and Phoebe also hosted a podcast about running a startup called The Burnouts on Alex Cooper’s Unwell network. In Vanity Fair’s recent investigation of Unwell, I learned that they left the network. “The Burnouts are now actively exploring new partners for season two.”
Chase launched a new youth-focused newsletter on Substack called Stacking Paper. It’s not so bad. They roped in popular writers on the platform like Arden Yum and Viv Chen, as well as an anonymous author named “the paper stacker” who walks readers through grocery budgets and what to do if you lose your debit card.
Food, the artist-run restaurant on Canal Street, is starting to serve frozen yogurt. They even started a new Instagram account (fro_yooooooo) to show the brands they’re working with. The first flavor is with Sourmilk Yogurt and Psycho olive oil, but I’m curious if they’re going to loop in other brands in the future, a la Erewhon. Fun.
Gracie Abrams said she wrote part of her new album in the Elizabeth Street Garden.
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Not so bad!
not sponsored, don't work for le lick, but i've tried them and they're actually pretty satisfying. only downside: i tried to have one between sets at a hot tennis match, and while it should have been obvious, it takes more than 90 seconds to eat a lollipop