Here’s a Washington Post profile of Johnny Monis, the chef/owner/etc. of Komi. Someone clued me into this place a couple of years ago and soon thereafter I had an amazing, decadent, exorbitantly expensive evening there. The food was great, the wine was great, and everything else was great, too. The restaurant is comfortable but cozy (seating fewer than 30 people), and the service was excellent–Monis came over to tell the table about the selections we’d made for the cheese plate that capped our meal. The cheese plate, by the way, was incredible. Anyway, I think I’ve made my point here. The restaurant is my favorite in DC, because every aspect of a night there is predicated on non-pretentious substance.
Monis has no illusions about what he does. “Food isn’t about art; it’s about taking care of people,” he says, even though he stays pretty much out of the dining room. He shows his caring by overseeing every plate, but in order to do so, he does not serve tables of more than four diners. “There are only three of us in the kitchen, and there is no heat lamp,” he states. “By the time a fifth plate would be ready, the others would be ruined.” He does not participate in events that take him away from Komi. The one day he was sick, he closed the restaurant.
Monis may be a little crazy in his devotion to the restaurant, but it’s to the lucky customers’ benefit. I’ve eaten there only a couple of times (it may be the best restaurant in DC, but it’s not exactly the cheapest), sadly. Next time I’m back in town I’ll have to sucker somebody into taking me out for a prix fixe dinner.
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