A few years back, a man poked his head through the discreet opening of the Iron Gate Inn on 1734 N St, NW. He spoke a gentle sentence in French to owner Nabeel David, inquiring if any tables were open for lunch. In good fortune, there was, just one. The Frenchman led his group of five through the arched stone breezeway into a rustic garden of flowers and red brick. Underneath the ceiling of one hundred-year-old vines, the friends, like so many others over the years, enjoyed a thoughtfully prepared meal in a thoughtfully catered environment.

It has been over a century since the building was erected. Since then, this producer of taste and hospitality has earned the title of the oldest continuously run restaurant in DC. It has been meticulously preserved to remind modern day patrons of the roots responsible for the character.

Past the garden and into the indoor eatery area, hay racks and saddle trees cover the walls as if it were 1910 and General Nelson Miles, who once lived there, was out in the garden with his favorite horse, Duke. Old stalls, like the one Duke would have lived in, have been transformed into booths. Top shelf liquor and bottles of corked wine are all in order. The smell of an old carriage house, which it at one time was, is long gone.

Nabeel, a native to the area, bought the Iron Gate Inn about sixteen years ago.

“My emphasis is on the ingredients,” he says.

“We support local farmers and serve items that are fresh…seafood, lamb and seasonal vegetables. I’d like to think that if your Grandmother was an incredible chef…and she stayed home all day Sunday to cook, that’s what you’d get here. That’s the food I want. Made with honesty and love.”

Though I never met Nabeel’s grandmother, I was impressed at what she must have taught him. Not only did he revitalize this historical landmark, but also he created an ethnic enclave on a hidden alley in DC. Without feeling pretentious, this place is chic. Walking in I got the feeling people were having the maximum experience of flavor and conversation a restaurant should offer.

Spoil yourself with one of the starters such as the mussels with white wine or the goat cheese torte with charred red pepper coulis. The mozzarella and tomatoes salad with basil vinaigrette is a personal favorite. It’s fresh and flavorful, enough to satisfy the immediate appetite in between a glass of wine and entrée.

The dinner menu is short, yet it compromises nothing at all. The braised lamb shank with orzo and feta is a house favorite, and I can attest to knowing why. The lamb basically fell off of the bone and tasted so delicious that my mouth still waters thinking about it. All of the meals, including my dinner companion’s yellow fin tuna with calamata olives, red onions and fresh oregano, were served at a perfect temperature and polished in presentation.

“I believe everything, including the restaurant business, has an element of art to it. The more the artist you are, the more beautiful your products.”

Nabeel’s assessment, I thought, was profound. Yet I agreed and wondered how I even discovered this secret place.

“You’re not going to find it on your own,” he consoles. “It’s truly a secret place and as overused and cliché that is, this place is magical.”

Like the Frenchman on that spring afternoon, I felt rather fortunate, and almost as if I owed Nabeel a compliment for keeping the Iron Gate Inn going.

As the story went, on his way out the same breezeway, the Frenchman approached Nabeel.

“Congratulations,” he said.

And that was it.

“That,” Nabeel said with honest eyes, “is what I worked for. Instant gratification, satisfaction of the customer. That was a real highpoint.”

For any hungry and humble Washingtonian, a discovery like this is a highpoint.