At Virtue Feed and Grain, There’s More Than Patience on the Menu

My tumbler of pinot. Image: Amy Loeffler

Patience is the virtue featured on the menu at the Armstrong’s most recent adventures in restaurateur-dom. It’s a reference to the necessity to wait for good food that is slow- made and farm-fresh. But I would add humility to the list of admirable qualities that are on display at Virtue as well.

When I talked to Cathal Armstrong about his penchant for using his trusty iPad in the kitchen last year, conversation wandered to the yet-to-be completed project that is now Virtue Feed and Grain.  As a native Alexandrian I told him that while I lamented the demise of the once-upon-a-time indie record store that would become Virtue’s space, it was heartening to know that we wouldn’t have to stomach a corporate, faceless chain restaurant forever inhabiting the former Olson’s skin. But instead of taking credit for rescuing the previous haunt for punky, gothy, nerd, and yes, even normal, NoVa teens, Armstrong expressed dismay and humbly answered, “It’s sad when those places go away,” he said.

Now the space where connoisseurs of local indie rock gathered is again a hot spot for locals, and local fare.

It was difficult not to make mental notes of where the cash register was (now the hostess stand), and the magazine rack where I used to buy NME, or whatever British music rag I thought was the gospel at the time. Where I used to rummage for Dead Kennedys records and ask staff about auditory esoterica (ok, I was not cool enough to rummage for DK vinyl; admittedly I was rummaging for New Order and The Cure), is now the kitchen. Pretty appropriate that the very spot that was the haven for those with discerning musical taste is now the spot where chefs make tasty fare.

Farm-house chicken at Virtue Feed and Grain. Image: Amy Loeffler

The offerings at Virtue are comprised of traditional, and also self-described “weird” entrees (weird=organ meat-based dishes from Ireland). When I visited I opted for the farm-house chicken and chips. Nothing fancy, but satisfying on a fall day. The chicken itself was swaddled in a sauce of chicken stock, mirepoix, and a splash of veal stock that gave the otherwise sheer sauce a bit of depth and heft. Big fries, not quite steak size, were exactly the right implement for soaking up any excess liquid I could not slurp off the meat or the bones.

I wasn’t quite sure about the tumbler that my pinot noir came in, however. At first I thought it was trying too hard to be rustic. As I ate, though, it kind of reminded me of the day after a party when there aren’t any more clean glasses, so you end up drinking whatever wine is leftover in a coffee mug or a preserve jar. Another virtue perhaps? The ability to laugh at yourself in your jammies while drinking out of a kiddie mug?

Taylor Swift, and Cathal and Meshelle Armstrong, don’t take themselves too seriously. Video: Youtube

Cathal and Meshelle don’t take themselves too seriously either, and I would venture to say that if most of the menu copy isn’t written by the missus, she’s had a hand in it; a constant elbow in the ribs of the overuse of the farm-to-table terminology, but still managing to maintain a reverence for the product.

Patience, humility, and the ability to laugh at yourself, are all virtues to practice often. I’m glad that the Armstrong’s, along with Mr. Thrasher, are practicing virtuists.