Photo: Allison Dinner

Dig into a traditional English chicken pot pie at the new CommonWealth Gastropub.

While everyone tries to define and lay claim to what it means to be American, we tend to forget that what makes this country whole is the sum of its parts. If there is any doubt that we are still a melting pot, take a look at the restaurant scene these days: European, African, Latin and Asian influences abound. They have taken root and become inextricably intertwined; nowadays, we all feast from the global table. And while we may have reached the saturation point with politics this year—it sometimes seems as if every talking head out there opens his or her trap and refuses to shut it—we'll never grow weary of opening our own mouths to sample the diversity of flavors found in the new restaurants of the moment. Those are the places where being red or blue doesn't matter, so long as you're hot, hot, hot.

Across the Pond

The Brits coined the term "gastropub" to refer to a bar where updated food replaced traditional fare. So when chef Jamie Leeds, of the enormously popular Hank's Oyster Bars in Dupont Circle and Old Town Alexandria, opened CommonWealth Gastropub (1400 Irving St., NW; 202/265-1400; www.commonwealthgastropub.com; $57 per person, all inclusive) in Columbia Heights this summer, some people sniffed that the food was not inventive enough. They missed the point. Leeds and business partner Sandy Lewis were looking to interpret British things in American ways. The space in the new, hip neighborhood has concrete floors, exposed ceilings, an open kitchen and a long bar. And it's packed with revelers who have been starved for fun and decent food in an area where those have been in short supply. Who cares about the sniffers? It's the punters that matter, and CommonWealth was packed the day it opened and remains that way. Of the 35 bottled or canned beers and the dozen or so drafts, two-thirds are British (Tetley's English Ale; Smithwick's Irish Ale). There is a serviceable offering of EU wines (France, Italy, Spain), priced reasonably enough in the $30s and $40s.

The food? Look for Scotch eggs (hard-boiled, covered with forcemeat, fried), potted pork, pot pies, Cornish pasties, steak and oyster pie, Cumberland bangers, Yorkshire pudding with onion gravy, and sticky toffee pudding. Lemon-stuffed fried olives sound odd, but prove addictive. The butcher plate rises above the hackneyed charcuterie found everywhere except McDonald's these days; where have you seen stuffed trotters and deviled sweetbreads lately? But the best news of all, especially for those of us who live nearby, is that the grass-fed beef burger and the crispy-on-the-outside, moist-on-the-inside beer-battered fish with chips are simply smashing. The menu boasts that CommonWealth is dedicated to promoting the common good, and it does so uncommonly well.

Asian Flair

Sushi-Ko Glover Park was the first sushi place in D.C., and the city's best. I could pass a whole evening's entertainment just watching chef Koji Terano wield a knife and unfurl a cylinder of peeled cucumber into one, long transparent strip. But now there is a close second: Sushi-Ko Chevy Chase (5425 Wisconsin Ave., Bethesda, Md.; 301/961-1644; $75 per person, all inclusive). The newer, younger model of the original restaurant is hard to find (it's in a strip of shops facing away from the Friendship Heights Metro stop), but well worth the effort it takes to find it. The space is serene and current with accents of stones, leather, stainless steel and down-lighting. Almost entirely circular booths are cozy and sexy, but the food action takes place at the curvy sushi bar where chef Piter Tjan works his magic. The fish at Sushi-Ko tastes like it arrived on the scene just minutes before it shows up at the table: flounder carpaccio with truffle vinaigrette and nigiri of rockfish, chu-toro (fatty tuna), scallop, flounder fin (engawa) with uni and shiso, thinly sliced tuna sashimi with ponzu (usuzukuri), and crispy fried eel (tatsuta-age). Small plates of seared soy-sake-marinated tuna, yellowtail, salmon, lobster and scallop soar. The wonders never cease.

Chef Edwin Navarro rules the kitchen. Warm baby spinach salad with roasted mushrooms and bamboo shoots is a Sushi-Ko fave and a terrific way to start a meal. Wagyu strip steak and honey-soy roasted duck breast will please non-fish eaters, and the tempura here is perfect. For dessert, green tea ice cream actually tastes subtly of tea and not just silly, as it does most everywhere else I've tried it. Rather than fancy cocktails, I'd head right to the wine list and blow my wallet wide open on French wines: a Savigny lès Beaune 2004 "Clos des Godeaux" chardonnay, a Domaine Rion 2005 Chambolle Musigny "Les Echezeaux" pinot noir or a François Mikulski 2006 "Bourgogne Rouge" pinot noir. Who knew you'd find amazing French wines in a sushi restaurant?

Photo: Allison Dinner

Redwood is rooted in American fare, featuring seared scallops with chanterelles.

Jared Rager and Eli Hengst have a knack for opening interesting restaurants in high-density neighborhoods: Sonoma on Capitol Hill and Mendocino Grille in Georgetown, which they just sold to long-term GM Troy Bock. Now, obviously on a roll, they've taken on Bethesda with Redwood (7121 Bethesda Lane, Bethesda, Md.; 301/656-5515; www.redwoodbethesda.com; $75 per person, all inclusive). The formula seems so simple: Start with a chef with a good pedigree who knows how to cook. "You either got it, or you ain't," said Mama Rose in Gypsy. And baby, Andrew Kitko's got it. (He learned from Gary Danko in San Francisco and Daniel Boulud in New York.) Next, get a good sommelier—in this case, Brian Cook, of The Source, Wolfgang Puck's D.C. eatery—and build a space that creates a vibe. Redwood is open and airy, with high ceilings, manly redwood furniture, and layered slabs of stone and even bark on the walls. A large lounge teems with people waiting for tables.

The menu reflects the current trends—sustainable, seasonal, local, artisan, natural, organic—but has strong American roots, like a redwood. Amish chicken liver mousse with pickled figs is dreamy; baked cherrystone clams are meaty and cheesy; potted Pennsylvania rabbit with apricot mustard is faintly game-like. Entrées represent a now familiar gamut: day-boat scallops, rotisserie chicken, flat-iron steak, whole roasted fish, short ribs. There could be more fish on the menu, but all of these items are done well here. The scallops are seared to just the right degree of doneness and set off with chanterelles; the steak's braised greens are sublime; the pork's grits are rich and earthy against the sweetness of melted Vidalia onions; the ribs are chunky, smoky and zingy, thanks to a sauce worthy of being bottled. For dessert, there's no debate: butterscotch pudding. Redwood provides a perfect setting for brunch, too. Buttermilk biscuits with Smithfield ham gravy, pancakes with pecan bourbon syrup, and cornflake-crusted French toast. It doesn't get any more American, or better, than that.

Mix and Match

Co-owners Jonathan Williams and Greg Cahill and their chef, Brian Robinson, do American in a different way at Clarendon's Restaurant 3 (2950 Clarendon Blvd., Arlington, Va.; 703/524-4440; www.restaurantthree.com; $70 per person, all inclusive). The space mixes three styles: a masculine, woodsy, Brunswick bar circa 1900 in one room; an Art Deco feel in another; slate, stone and a homey fireplace in another room. The food doesn't stick to what's available within 200 miles as Redwood does; Robinson chooses to go in many directions. So there are Asian barbecue tuna lollipops with seaweed salad, fried calamari with tzatziki, portobello mushroom with spinach pesto, and scallops and grits on the same appetizer list. Though I should not be eating such things, the potato chips with béchamel, blue cheese and chunky bacon were shamefully delicious.

For entrées, there's Japanese sea bass with acorn squash risotto alongside fried catfish with hoppin' John, lamb loin with Argentinean chimichurri, pork chop with Miami mojo and a rib-eye with Texas rub. Robinson prepares both fish and meat correctly. The pork chop was crusty grilled on the outside, but smoky and juicy on the inside, thanks to a good brining. Halibut is nicely opaque in the center rather than shiny and raw, as seems to be the fashion in many trendy spots.

American wines are the order of the day here, with the focus on small producers such as Oregon's Argyle Winery, Russian River's Starry Night and Mendocino's Carol Shelton. The portions are prodigious, so expect to take home enough for tomorrow's lunch, especially since you need to save room for the little warm doughnuts with chocolate coffee sauce and whipped cream you should have for dessert.

Italian Life

Given the state of the economy, it is not surprising that counter-service restaurants are becoming more popular. You order and pay for your food, take a number, and then someone delivers the goods to your table. Particularly endearing at Pete's Apizza (1400 Irving St., NW; 202/332-7383; www.petesapizza.com; $25 per person, all inclusive), smack dab by the Metro entrance in the heart of bustling Columbia Heights, is that there is no tip jar by the cash register. "We pay our staff well," asserts Thomas Marr, one of Pete's owners. "That's right!" concurred a young lady handling the register, clearly happy to be there.

And we're happy they're there. The star attraction is the New Haven–style "apizza": a thin-crusted, crispy white pie baked on stone and finished with olive oil. When tomato sauce is used, say, for a margherita pie, it's a thin washing that complements the toppings, which are all delizioso because the raw ingredients have integrity: Parmigiano-Reggiano, Pecorino Romano, all-natural whole milk or bufala mozzarella. Marr doesn't like the "gourmet" moniker, but thinks if you're going to put onions on a pizza, they might as well be caramelized. And the peppers are roasted. And the mushrooms are sautéed. The garlicky clam pizza is a top seller for good reason. Several pies are available by the slice ($2.50–$3.25); pick-your-own-topping and specialty pies, such as the Edge of the Woods (sautéed spinach and onions, ricotta, fried eggplant), are 18-inch and run between $22.95 and $24.95. An antipasto of seasonal vegetable salads, crisped prosciutto and ricotta salata outshines versions in much fancier spots. Pastas are more than respectable, even if the bolognese on the rigatoni isn't strictly by the book. Bonuses: good wines by the glass, Dolcezza artisanal gelato (pistachio!), Illy Caffe and a kid-friendly atmosphere. Décor is utilitarian. The place seats only 40, but tables turn fast, so if they're full, wait or do a drive-by and pick up a pie.

Taste of Africa

At first glance, you may not think that Penn Quarter's Nando's Peri-Peri (819 7th St., NW; 202/898-1225; www.nandosperiperi.com) is a counter-service restaurant. Soaring ceilings, vibrantly colored acrylic paintings, wrought-iron chandeliers, chic wooden chairs and banquettes that seem crafted from whole trees set this chicken joint well apart from KFC or Chicken Out. This is the first U.S. location of a chain that started in South Africa in 1987 and then expanded into 34 countries. If you know anyone from London, you heard about Nando's before it arrived.

But they have good reason to rave. The napkins state: "You love it … it's written all over your face!" and it may very well be. Not to worry; there's a giant communal sink in the middle of the restaurant for quick minibaths. The flavor is certainly there; the Afro-Portuguese style originated with European expats in South Africa who used fiery Mozambican peri-peri chilies as a marinade base for flame-grilled chicken. But you know you might be in for trouble when the menu is cooked to order. A word to the wise: Phone in your order half an hour ahead of arrival.

Of the lemon and herb, medium, hot and extra-hot choices on the "peri-ometer," go for extra-hot; the marinade does not overwhelm the (never frozen) chicken, but additional sauce on the side could. I love it, but it's fine without it. The chicken comes in quarter, half, whole or wings-only options and in combination with side dishes that are, for the most part, bit players. Forgo the fries, spicy rice or mashed potatoes in favor of chunky butternut squash and grilled corn, but pass up the salad that uses that same squash side dish as a salad base; a lot gets lost in the cross-use from hot to cold. The same is true for the succulent chicken livers that make the trip from main course to feta salad. The chicken's the thing here, but I'd be tempted to make a trip to Nando's just for the roasted portobello sandwich with grilled halloumi cheese and chili jam. Nando's also offers beer, wine and a snappy sangria. Now when's the last time you got that at the Colonel's?