2 weeks Ago By Nevin Martell
A restaurant can serve as a reflection point for its chef, a way to honor the past while celebrating the present and looking forward to the future. Such is the case with Mallard , the newly opened bastion of indulgent Southern cuisine from chef-partner Hamilton Johnson , which takes over the Birch & Barley space on 14th Street NW below its sibling operation, beer mecca ChurchKey . Mallard is a warmhearted salute to the chef’s late father, a passionate cook who loved down-home Southern cooking and was a longtime carver of duck decoys.
Johnson grew up outside Spartanburg, South Carolina, and attended Johnson & Wales University in Charleston. He ultimately moved to D.C.
and spent a formative eight-year stretch at Jeff Buben ’s famed Southern spot, Vidalia . After that, he bopped around town for gigs at American Son , Emilie ’ s , Glover Park Grill , Michele ’ s , and Gravitas , as well as at his own restaurant Honeysuckle , a Southern spot with New Nordic influences in Vidalia’s former downtown address, which closed in 2019 after a nearly three-year run. No matter where Johnson cooked, his Palmetto State roots would shine through.
Now he is going all-in on his heritage and personal history. To transport diners to his formative childhood years, Mallard is designed to evoke a 1970s living room, decorated with meaningful pictures and knickknacks. There are a couple photos of his father, a painting of a squirrel done by his mom, shots of his favorite musicians— David Bowie , Lou Reed , and Robert Plant —and, naturally, dozens of mallards, including a pair crafted by his father that are perched above the entrance.
The menu is designed with a similar mentality. “The food is comfortable, approachable, and familiar, but then we do a ‘Oh, this is something interesting’ twist,” Johnson says. Take the opening freebie, which supplants a breadbasket and changes with the season.
Right now, the chef sends out miniature loaves of pumpkin bread with corn nut-cornflake crunch on top and some pumpkinseed butter on the side. Salty-savory-sweet, it’s the perfect palate primer. The first section of the menu is devoted to a trio of snacks, including must-order pimento cheese.
Johnson makes his with Duke’s Mayo and serves it with Ritz Crackers, pickled okra, and chowchow, Southern-style pickled relish with cabbage, cauliflower, and bell peppers, that’s similar to Italian giardiniera. Next choose between half a dozen small plates. The foie gras is as wonderfully excessive as it is necessary.
Sitting on French toast made with croissants and laced with crispy country ham, the seared lobe is complemented by foie gras ice cream, onion marmalade, blackberry pie filling mixed with duck jus, and duck fat powder. I’ve always enjoyed Johnson’s foie preparations, but this one is outstanding even by his high standards. Another standout: dry-aged steak tartare decorated with French onion dip and petite salt and vinegar chips for scooping.
Moving into mains, there is, of course, duck, which the chef sources from Joe Jurgielewicz & Son in Pennsylvania. It comes prepared two ways: a roasted breast alongside a fried leg. The flat iron steak is a play on Salisbury steak, but this is no Hungry-Man Dinner.
Thick sliced pink-centered beef gets a ladleful of truffled gravy, monstrous Vidalia onion rings, and freshly grated black truffles. And don’t sleep on the burger: a pair of smashed patties steamed with white wine and—you guessed it—duck jus, decked out with American cheese and pepperoncini aioli. On the weekends, the menu expands to include a few specials, such as bison short rib with root beer sauce and truffled mac and cheese.
“Super healthy and virtually fat-free,” Johnson jokes. If it isn’t already apparent, let me underline the fact that Mallard is not a restaurant for the plant-based crowd or anyone looking to lower their blood pressure. When it comes time for dessert, get the playful coffee and cigarettes.
Served in an ashtray, espresso ice cream, tobacco-infused caramel, and smoked olive oil hang out with malted chocolate mousse. It reminds me of Anthony Bourdain ’s dinner at the French Laundry when Thomas Keller served him coffee custard infused with Marlboro cigarettes . To drink, there’s an epic whiskey library with more than 150 options, cocktails from spirit director Nick Farrell —who concentrates on Southern-influenced smashes, spiked lemonades, and boozy iced teas—and beers hand-selected from ChurchKey’s extensive catalog by beverage director Greg Engert .
It was nice to discover there’s also a healthy selection of nonalcoholic choices, including lemonades powered by booze-free spirits. Johnson himself recently celebrated a year sober. “Best decision I ever made,” he says.
“I grew up in kitchens where you get your ass kicked and you push and push and push, so you think, I need a beer. I need to let loose. Then you come in hungover the next day.
It’s a vicious cycle that goes over and over.” Now his outlet is morning CrossFit sessions. “I maintain a better, more positive, clearer approach to the food, running the kitchen, being able to keep up with people half my age, and push them out of the way when shit hits the fan,” he says.
Mallard is clearly the culmination of hard times, hard work, and hard-fought success, a deeply personal restaurant where Johnson’s story shines throughout the entire experience. Case in point: The check arrives with a house-made Werther’s Original caramel—his father’s favorite. Mallard,1337 14th St.
NW. (202) 567-2650. mallarddc.
com ..
