It’s not often that the name of a restaurant sends me screeching to a halt on the side of the road, narrowly avoiding a pileup, just to see what it’s all about. But that’s what happened a few months ago as I was driving down Hull Street Road near Brandermill.

I hold some restaurants in such a special place in my heart that I get excited, almost like parents would watching their kids, when they live up to their potential. I’m bound to grow attached, having kept an obsessive eye on Richmond’s restaurant scene for more than four years.

f I had to recall the last time I spent a dinner chatting about a chef’s culinary style one minute and rapping with him to A Tribe Called Quest the next, this article would end right here.  Now that I’ve hung out at Leigh St. Bar & Grill, I’ve spent a dinner doing just that and would do it again just about any night of the week.

It all started with a glowing amber bar. And a gregarious bartender. And an intriguing martini. And a well-trained duo of hostesses.  And . . .  OK, OK. You get it. It started with a lot.  Wild Ginger has been open only two months, but it already runs like a well-oiled machine, an upscale restaurant worth its weight in service, ambience and Pan-Asian cuisine.

I’ve written about restaurants in Richmond for more than four years now, and the No. 1 question I get asked never changes. Ever.  “What’s the best seafood restaurant in town?“  Richmond clearly wants its seafood, but, sadly, it’s common knowledge that we don’t really have a boatload—I’m sorry—of consistently viable options.

I’m always a little wary of restaurant PR. It’s so subjective. I’m not one to put much stock in what a restaurant claims are its strong points. I want to decide for myself.  But if I could simply copy and paste the “About Us” section from the newly reopened Café Gutenberg’s Web site, call it my review and move on with my day, I would. They’ve nailed it.

‘m not the biggest fan of weekend dining. Restaurants are crowded, chefs are overworked and servers are often in the weeds. It’s not the restaurants’ fault. Most people do their dining out on the weekend.  If you’re going to go all out, especially to a nicer restaurant, why have the annoyance of a workday hanging over your head?

hen I heard that Momotaro Sushi had opened in Carytown, steps away from Carytown Sushi and within blocks of a handful of other popular sushi spots, my first thought was, “Hasn’t Richmond had its fill of raw fish yet?“ 

Italian restaurants—every neighborhood has a plethora of carbon-copy iterations, and every neighbor has a favorite.  This is pretty much the case across town, so how does one place become someone’s favorite over another? No shock that it’s usually based on proximity.  For example, I can easily name two spots downtown that many suburbanites would consider some of the best Italian restaurants around. However, “best” doesn’t mean much when the dinner hour is hot on our heels. Everyone needs his or her own special place within a comfortable radius from home.

Doraldo’s Rating:  Where: 13253 Rittenhouse Road (The Village at Swift Creek)

If you’ve read this column before, you may have noticed I really enjoy geeking out over culinary twists, dashes of creativity or unexpected drizzles of something different. I can’t help it. That’s my M.O. 

Its tagline is “East Meets West. They Party.“ But after two less-than-stellar visits to Kona Grill in Short Pump’s West Broad Village, I’m having problems finding exactly where (or when) this party is. 

Fine, I’ll say it. I like taking pictures of my food. And I don’t feel ashamed admitting it.  I’d much rather fill my iPhoto library with visual documentation of all the wonderful meals I’ve consumed rather than not-as-appetizing photos of, say, family gatherings or friends’ wedding receptions.

Wearing shorts and flip-flops in mid-March while sitting outside with my laptop, I couldn’t be in a better place in which to wax poetic on Papa Ningo. 

I was shocked when Dale and Aline Reitzer closed Acacia’s original location after a nearly 10-year run of greatness in one of Carytown’s most unusual dining locales.