The toughest restaurant reservation in the country is at a suburban D.C. dining room. Inside, diners pay in cash for high-quality meals whipped up by a chef identified only by his first name. He can tell outsiders only that he works as the executive chef of a secure government building. Cellphones are forbidden. That's because the only people who can book a table here at one of the most secure compounds in the world are employees of the Central Intelligence Agency in Langley, Virginia. As the first food critic ever admitted to the 50-seat Agency Dining Room, I find myself in covert company. The director of the agency approves the menus, which change quarterly. Before he made headlines with it in the White House, then-CIA Director George H.W. Bush let it be known that he didn't want to be served broccoli. William J. Casey had a sweet tooth; one of his favorite desserts was apple tarte Tatin. The agency's most recent director, William J. Burns, ate on the healthful side, "a salad with a protein," sometimes Caesar with salmon and often on a tray delivered to his office, says the executive chef. John Ratcliffe, the new director appointed by Trump, always begins his day with a fresh cup of coffee from the Agency Dining Room and is looking forward to trying the smash burger, according to the CIA. Servers aren't tipped at the CIA because they are paid differently from servers on the outside, Neises says. Waiters at the agency are doing "mission-critical work."