Inspiration for what new restaurants to try can manifest in a multitude of different ways, but because I’m such a visual eater, I’m a sucker for anything that the Eater YouTube channel showcases. In this particular case for this particular review, Doro Soul Food located in the eclectic DC neighborhood of Shaw was on the menu today.
I was entranced by the intersection of something as deeply Southern as fried chicken with the bold, aromatic soul of Ethiopian cooking. And that is exactly the magic behind Chef Elias Taddesse’s restaurant, now occupying space alongside a sister concept also by Taddesse called Mélange (while Mélange’s menu was indeed enticing, I was singularly focused on Doro Soul Food’s offerings, so this review will henceforth focus on that food experience alone despite the fact that both concepts cohabitate the same kitchen).
First Looks
Just to ensure you’re aware of the level of sophistication I’m working with inside my own brain, I immediately clocked upon approach that there was a window for Doro Soul Food’s takeout service and then just assumed that the door right next to it labeled Doro Soul Food would absolutely lead me to their dining room.
I instead found myself fully in their kitchen. An honest mistake I’m sure, but it did leave me feeling bashful: like a little kid who saw something they know they’re not allowed to see. I quickly got my bearings and realized the proper door for hungry patrons like myself was further down the block. Admittedly, the open garage door looking into an eclectic dining room should have been my tip off, but I didn’t catch the hint. But with the universe back on its tilt and no more customers storming the kitchen, I could resume with the business at hand.
I took a seat and almost immediately was greeted with a much needed glass of water. Our nation’s Capitol is in a muggy swamp and my temperament for dealing with heat and humidity is embarrassingly absent. This is becoming a theme in all of my DC reviews (see: Albi review)—someone should really do something about this miserable bog.
I don’t love to share this fact necessarily but full transparency with my audience: I’m a bit of a cheat when it comes to experiencing a new restaurant; I nearly always read through the menu if I can. That is to say that the path I would take for this meal was preordained by an earlier version of myself: three pieces of dark meat (which comes with a biscuit muffin), a side of mac and cheese, two cans of Coke (more on that in a second), and a slice of their buttermilk ayib pie.
An Unexpected Disturbance
At Doro Soul Food the customer is expected to order through a QR code at the table. There is a wait staff that came around and checked up on myself and the other patrons of the restaurant, and I believe one table did directly order from one of the waiters but the vibe I got was that the QR code ran the operations. I have mixed feelings about this practice. I could make another post at some point about this topic; I’m sure I have a few hundred—or, thousand—words to say about it, but I will say on topic that it created what I believe to be unnecessary friction in my experience: I ordered what I thought would be two cans of Coke and received much, much more!
The menu through the QR code listed Coke products with pictures of cans of soda (in my defense, nearly every other item on the menu was accompanied by a picture of the actual item, so it shouldn’t be a logical stretch that this restaurant serves cans of soda). I selected two cans of Coke. What arrived at my table were two glasses of Coke. My waiter then informed me as if I was a simpleton who’s never been in a restaurant before that Coke comes as an unlimited refill so I didn’t need to order two. I tried to explain that I thought I was ordering cans of Coke, not glasses. The waiter then became extremely and unexpectedly confused and arrived back with two cans of Coke and then walked away. So now I look like a deranged lunatic who’s hoarding the entire supply of this restaurant’s Coca Cola. Unnecessary friction, and I will note that I paid for two Cokes when I really should have paid for one with unlimited refills; and I don’t know if it was my shame or theirs at how this chain of events unfolded, but the subject of rectifying this overpayment never came up.
The Things That Matter
My diabetic war chest aside, the food came out in short order. The first impression of the fried chicken was that it had a beautiful reddish-brown hue with a tremendous amount of craggliness. I had ordered mine with the berbere level of spiciness—translation on their scale: hot, but not very hot— so the chicken was flash fried and then dunked in a sauce with a combination of berbere, kibbeh, and sugar. I also opted for a side of their mitmita sauce (the hottest of their three offerings) to experience both flavor profiles.
One major takeaway I had from Chef Taddesse’s conversation with Eater was that the crunchiness of the chicken and, as an offshoot, the ability to sustain that crunchiness without the chicken turning soggy was a guiding light in the formation of the recipe. That video offers a detailed dive into his process for those that are interested.
In practice, the thesis definitely holds up. The chicken was texturally magnificent. At the time of this review I was sporting a relatively full beard, so I spent a decent amount of time wiping down the area around my face—a necessary habit for someone who doesn’t want to look like a child with a bowl of spaghetti. Because of this, three pieces of chicken got stretched longer than I would say is typical for me to eat chicken, and the third piece of chicken was just as crunchy and well maintained as the first.
The berbere sauce did not speak to me too much. It was earthy and warm and layered with a medley of spices, but it lacked the heat I was looking for. Truth be told the only reason I ordered it was because I’m always scared to go too heavy on the spice at a new restaurant lest it overpower the meal. Which is why I opted to order a side of the mitmita sauce. A pragmatic coward’s move. I’m glad I did because if you can handle some spiciness, it was the star attraction for the fried chicken with bird’s eye chilis as a key ingredient of the sauce and the key differentiator from the berbere option.
The real throughline of this restaurant is, in my opinion, the kibbeh—a clarified butter mixed with several Ethiopian spices—that makes an appearance in nearly all of its dishes (potentially all of them?).
Think of how you would use butter in your cooking. Now think about how much better it could taste if the butter were less of an ingredient in your cooking and more of a structural foundation given immediacy and forethought in the construction of a dish. That’s the influence we find in Doro Soul Food’s kibbeh. Whether it’s used to symphonize the aromatics in the Doro Wat used in the béchamel of the mac and cheese, or to add harmony to the dance between the citrusy notes of the whipped cream and the nutty flavors of the ayib in the buttermilk ayib pie, the kibbeh is a foundational pillar of Doro Soul Food’s success as a concept.
The latter of the aforementioned dishes was excellent. A true highlight of the meal. It brought me back to my grandma’s rigot pie, a similar dish that hit on some of the same classic notes. The beautiful crimped crust provided a firm texture to offset the creaminess of the buttermilk ayib filling. The light airiness of the chantilly cream brings the whole experience together into one cohesive bite. It was like transporting myself to the coziness of a small town diner where pie reigns supreme. If I ever find myself back at Doro Soul Food, the pie will be first on my mind.
The mac and cheese was an ambitious side, featuring an impossibly creamy Doro Wat béchamel and topped with injera crumbs, but I fear it became a slave to its own weight. There didn’t feel like a cohesive lilt to the dish. It’s creaminess and its spiciness were just there. The shape of the dish’s taste was amorphous. It didn’t feel like any component helped to lift up the others as if the unifying component was missing. The good news is that there are a number of other side options to explore that may better suit my interests, especially the collard greens.
Final Thoughts
The most important aspect of a restaurant experience is undoubtedly going to be the food. I’m not surprised that the chicken was so flavorful and juicy. I was, however, disappointed that the mac and cheese could not deliver the same intensity. But on the whole the meal was satisfying.
However, the frictions in the service were enough to mar the overall experience. I can’t say that I believe there’s a systemic problem with the way Chef Taddesse’s operations are ran, but it doesn’t help the restaurant’s case that I still experienced such awkwardness while being the only customer in the restaurant for a good chunk of the ordering process. Chalk up another victim to the pitfalls of QR code ordering.
That being said, I would not be shocked to find myself back at Doro Soul Food. Overall the food was tasty and service hiccups could always be one-off problems. My biggest regret from this experience was that I did not get the mixed chicken option, so I missed out on trying any white meat varietals. Again, I played it safe and got what I know and love: dark meat chicken; but next time those chicken tenders are calling my name.