american flatbread: pizza with integrity and convenience

43170 Southern Walk Plaza

Ashburn, VA 20148

703-723-7003

http://www.americanflatbread.com/

Pizza for dinner?  Again?

I kind-of hate American pizza.  I know, I know, my disgust for Dominos and Pizza Hut and Cici's is something akin to a crime against American culture.  Dough, sauce, cheese, veggies--sure, the ingredients are fine on their own.  But something unfortunate happens when they are combined by a bored teenager in a wide-brimmed sanitary visor who lackadaisically throws frozen sausage on top of a mushy white pie and into a stainless-steel oven for ten minutes and then shoves it into a brown cardboard box.  (Where exactly have those hands been? Don't tell me.)  To me, pizza--it's boring.  Even with pineapple and ham on top, the sauce, the cheese...it's formulaic, processed, and always the same.  Perhaps I should blame all those school pizza parties from my childhood, or cake-and-pizza birthdays, or those Friday nights when mom didn't feel like making dinner.  How many slices of pizza have you consumed in your lifetime?  Too many to count.

Which brings me to my very local Loudoun adventure for this week: the American Flatbread restaurant in my hometown of Ashburn.

Situated in a shopping mall.  No surprise there.

My next-door neighbors, Cheryl and Olivia, introduced me to American Flatbread a few months ago.  I'd never heard of this restaurant that came out of Burlington, Vermont, about twenty years ago.  I didn't know what a flatbread was, but quickly realized after hearing it enthusiastically described by Stone Bridge High School student Olivia that it's basically a fancy way of saying "pizza."  (Except that it is in the shape of an oval, not the traditional circle.)  Always one to try new foods, I shrugged off my pizza hate, and after my first visit, I was hooked.  I have been back to their Ashburn restaurant at least six times since.

"wood-fired artisan pizza"

This is no bland-sauce, tasteless-dough, limp-veggie pizza.  It's gourmet, and the prices show it.  An average flatbread costs between $15--$22 and serves about two people.  However, it's definitely one of those times where you get what you pay for: preservative-free, locally grown, identifiable food products.  (I brought my dad to the restaurant recently and he was appalled.  A long-time soda drinker, he was shocked to find not a single Coke or Pepsi product listed on the menu.  "This place is un-American," he said, shaking his head at his all-natural can of root beer.  "What kind of restaurant charges you twenty dollars for a pizza and doesn't even serve soft drinks?"  Sure, the pizza tasted ok--"Like eating money," he said.  He never went back.)

ham, apple & cheddar

On this weekend's trip, the three of us ladies shared two flatbreads and had a pile of leftover slices to take home.  We devoured my favorite, the Virginia Country Ham, Apple and Cheddar flatbread.  Sounds like a strange combination, but the chefs are adept at combining unusual ingredients into something spectacular.  Each week the menu boasts special new flatbreads, and the one we tried was the odd Roasted Garlic Mashed Potato flatbread.  At first, the garlic was overpowering, and the potato nonexistent.  But after a few bites the flavor and texture is slowly drawn out, and you realize that you are actually eating a pizza with mashed potatoes on top.  It was bizarre, but I liked its unusualness and enjoyed the playful idea behind it.

"flatbread kitchen"

Eating here is a completely different experience than the typical American-chain restaurant.  Usually, when we go out to eat, patrons give their order to an overworked server who may or may not write it down, and once he or she leaves we pray that they fill our orders correctly and the food will come quickly.  This is not the environment at American Flatbread.  The restaurant's openness allows customers to see basically everything that's being done to their food, from the creation of the bread to the cheese being sliced and the veggies being washed.  There's something reassuring about this visibility that is so uncommon in today's restaurant world.  Eaters have become dissociated from what we order and what sits on our plate.  It was captivating to see how the chefs worked.  Watching the flames of the wood-fire oven while our food was prepared before us was a much better way to wait for our meal--much more homey than, say, staring emptily at television screens.

"philosophy of food and place"

from the American Flatbread restaurant brochure:

"Food is important.  What we eat and how it is grown intimately affects our health and the well-being of the world.  American Flatbread is an experiment in post-modern baking.  It is about exploring how to make meaningful food: food that fills our hunger and tastes good, food that nourishes, nurtures, and helps us heal, food that reminds us of home and the things that truly sustain us."

American Flatbread devotes itself to buying its ingredients from farmers like Steve Baker, part of the Virginia Cooperative Extension, who produces ham, bacon and sausage on his sustainable farm in the Shenandoah Valley.  About farming and encouraging people to eat mindfully, he comments: "We're not getting rich, but what we're doing is honorable."  I think most of us would agree.  The ingredients used in their flatbreads, salads, and desserts are organic and grown and bought locally.  Tasty food, a wood-fire hearth, Dogfish Head beers aplenty, and a restaurant that supports local agriculture?  Sounds delicious.

Dig in, Loudoun County!

"the best day ever."

chrysalis vineyards

10th annual norton bluegrass & wine festival

october 2nd & 3rd, 2010

middleburg, virginia

"I used to think northern Virginians were cold.  Then I figured out how to get them talking: take them to a vineyard and get 'em drunk."  -- Jeff, from Pennsylvania

The day passed too quickly; it was already six o'clock, and a disgruntled vineyard employee asked us to please stop petting the cattle and leave the property.  The gates were closing and all patrons needed to vacate the premises immediately.  Stumbling barefoot through knee-high grass (where were my shoes? and why was I not wearing them?) I waved goodbye to the grazing cows and wandered back to the parking lot, seriously considering taking a nap before driving home.  My wallet was empty, my head was light, and my stomach was full of wine and cheese and crackers and fruit.  The scratchy sound of the washboard from the bluegrass band was in my head.  My lips and teeth were tinged violet.

It really was the best day ever.

The wine tasting

Thinking it a dangerous idea to drink wine at 10am, I arrived at the festival at 1230pm only to realize that we were late. Lauren, Jeff and I had already purchased our $15 tickets online ($20 at the door) so it was easy for us to saunter in, get our yellow wristbands and our complimentary Chrysalis wine glasses and make a reservation for a tasting.  It was crowded, but not overwhelmingly so; one employee said this was the busiest its been in the ten years she had been working the Norton events.

For those of you not familiar with the wonder of the Norton grape, let me provide you with a short history.  The Norton grape is native to Virginia, especially in the Piedmont region, where Middleburg is located.  Because of its growth solely in North America, it is often referred to as "The Real American Grape."  The Norton grapes' taste can be described as age-worthy, acidic and tannic, as well as "jammy."  I'm not much of a wine connoisseur--basically, my ratings go from "tastes like wine" to "tastes like crap."  Chrysalis' Nortons all tasted delicious to me, especially their 2009 Barrel Select ($29/bottle), the release of which was saved for today to kick off the festival.  We sampled nine wines and loved all of them.  The wine tasting, scheduled for about 30 people and beginning every half hour, lasted about twenty-five minutes.

Enticed? Want to visit the 71 acres of vineyards at Chrysalis Vineyards?  See

http://www.chrysaliswine.com/ for directions and hours of operation.

Sampling the merchandise

Olive oils.  Tapenades.  Dark chocolates.  Cheeses.  More wine.  

Yes, it's true: you are in heaven.

After being traumatized last weekend by the Bluemont Fair's buy-buy-buy atmosphere, I cringed when I saw the all-too-familiar white tent on the Chrysalis property.  Here we go again, I thought.  However, the vendors were small in number and their merchandise was actually quite unique.  Paintings, photographs, handmade jewelry and crocheted goods, and, of course, my favorite section: the food area.  We tried a variety of different olive oils, some with hints of lemon and orange, as well as an aged basalmic vinegar that literally put a smile on my face, going for a pricey $25 a bottle.  Tapenades were $10 a jar, and the chocolates were $25 for a box containing about twenty pieces.  I didn't buy anything, although the cinnamon and forest berry chocolates are still on my mind.  I hovered around the sample table for awhile and filled up on free goods.

Bluegrass on the hill

Ah, bluegrass music: Old Crow Medicine Show, Chris Thile, The Everybodyfields...the list goes on.  I love it all.  It's unfortunate that I don't get to see much of it performed live in Loudoun, especially in such a naturally beautiful venue.  The festival showcased three bands playing throughout the day beginning with The Jackass Flats in the morning, A Good Natured Riot in the afternoon and finishing up with Hickory Ridge.  Families pulled out their coolers and picnic blankets and sat in the sunshine enjoying the wine, the music, and the atmosphere.  Occasionally people would leave the grassy knoll and head down to the road where the hayride made its departure every thirty minutes.  Without a reservation, it was hopeless to get a spot on the wagon; I inquired politely on three occasions if I could sneak on ("But I write a blog! And it's about Loudoun County! And I deserve a spot on that hay bale next to that screaming child!") but my efforts were futile.  Oh, well.  Guess I'll just have to sit on my blanket and drink more wine then.

A Good Natured Riot

Rural Middleburg

At the start of this blog I mentioned how easily I could become lost while running in my neighborhood.  Take a turn down an unknown street and one can be frustratingly disoriented for hours amongst the sameness that characterizes suburban "NoVa."  As soon as I stepped out of my car and onto the Chrysalis property, however, I didn't care so much about getting lost.  In fact, I welcomed the opportunity.  The openness, the trees, the rolling hills, cattle grazing in a grassy field, dirt paths winding alongside wooden fences--I felt like Maria in the beginning scenes of The Sound of Music.  "So, this is Loudoun," I overheard an out-of-town patron say to his local friends, nodding with approval at the agrarian landscape before him.  "No, this is what Loudoun was, and won't be for too much longer," his friend replied.  I gave this local a dirty look and looked back at the map of Loudoun that I now carry in my purse at all times, seeing for the first time a divide between the developed East and the rural West.  East is where the little boxes spring up, where a Harris Teeter can be found every ten miles.  But West--West, I'm learning, is different.  The thought that the Loudoun I experienced at the festival could disappear riled me.  

In writing this blog I wanted to understand what Loudoun really is at its roots, all it has to offer its residents and tourists alike, what beauty and community and tradition lies in its vineyards and restaurants and festivals.  Jennie McCloud, proprietor of Chrysalis Vineyards, thanked us wine tasters for supporting the local agriculture amidst all the other choices and opportunities we have for entertainment today.  Like what? I wondered.  Outlet mall shopping?  Another Jersey Shore marathon?  As I looked out over the bucolic scenery that surrounded me, I felt like I was beginning to possess a sense of place and pride in where I come from.  I haven't quite put my finger on it yet: the words natural, wholesome, and American come to mind.  Annie Dillard, celebrated nature writer of The Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, wrote about understanding Virginia: "We must somehow take a wider view, look at the whole landscape, really see it, and describe what's going on here."  Each week that I venture out West and away from the humdrum hurried subdivisions, the closer I come to understanding what's really going on in Loudoun County.

The new face of Loudoun?

The best day ever?  I'll toast to that.

Cheers to Lauren, Jeff, Joanna and Corinne for fest-ing with me!