RUNIN Ragged

Category: Dinner

  • Alba Osteria

    Alba Osteria

    I was going for a run around Chinatown and Mount Vernon Square when I sensed the unmistakable gamey smell of roast pig. I followed the scent and arrived at an outdoor patio with a bocce parklet on I Street. A small crowd was enjoying happy hour while a suckling pig turned a crisp brown on a spit roast.

    I’ve never played bocce, but I knew it started in Italy, and it’s really taking off in the US. What struck me was seeing a famous chef joining in on the fun. How could I not recognize him – the renowned chef from Al Dente with his signature spectacles, white coat, long apron, and familiar smile.

    “Chef Donna?”

    Chef Roberto Donna & Angie Duran

    “Si, unico e solo”

    “From Galileo and Al Dente?”

    “Among many others, yes.”

    “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things about you. So you’ve moved to up-and-coming Mount Vernon Square.”

    “I’m excited about this locale. Hotels and condos are going up and people are taking a chance. We want to be their neighborhood restaurant.”

    “Who did you bring along?” 

    “Well, Amy Brandwein, my Chef de cuisine, who worked with me from Galileo, and Angie Duran my manager from Al Dente.”

    Please join us, grab a piece of pork and crackle and check out our enormous space,” said Angie, as she opened the door and welcomed me in.

    “The name Alba refers to a town in Roberto’s native Piedmont. With 226 seats, we are Chef Donna’s largest restaurant thus far. To make the atmosphere feel more intimate, we have sectioned spaces throughout, like a pizza bar, a dining room enclosed in a wine cage, a 12-personal communal table for chef dinners, and of course a 62-seat bar area with local beers and four wines on tap plus more than 200 Italian bottles.”

    “Totally rad, this bar space would be perfect to host an event.”

    “Well, I’m also the event manager so just let me know when and the size of the group.”

    “We normally draw a large crowd and the majority of us are foodies, so providing complementary apps and side dishes is part of our MO.”

    “I can definitely ask my boss Hakan (Ilhan) if we can provide some panini and pizza. Our oak-fired pizza oven turns out pies super fast. But we’ll want to make sure that our bartenders will stay busy.”

    “Of course, we’re a very social group, some even brokering deals. So every one of us will have a drink in the hand, and for people like me, they’ll have two.”

    “Perfect our happy hour is from 4-7 pm when draft beers are $4 and select wines by the glass are $5.”

    “Quite impressive. Is all this information plus your food and drink menu updated on your website?”

    “We try our best. But we have a lot on our plates at the moment.”

    “Well if we shoot pictures of the event as well as your dishes, we’ll share them with you so you can post on your site and social media.”

    On Sept 30, 2014, the turnout for our event was phenomenal with nearly 100 people in attendance.

    Chris Cooks is an IT consultant, social media enthusiast, networker, and self-professed comic genius. I met him at a PR Flacks happy hour, a meetup for PR professionals and communicators, and he has attended a few of our events over the years.

    Chris and I bellied up to the bar sipping on our Belgian-style pale ales. “Hey Chris, are you all caught up on watching ‘Game of Thrones’?”

    “Finally, can’t wait till next week and see which characters survive the series.”

    “Well, I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing any shows in a long time, so please don’t spoil it for me.”

    “I envy you, cuz you still have a lot ahead to look forward to.”

    Angie Duran was busy running back and forth to the kitchen picking up appetizers and keeping guests happy.

    “So Alba Osteria prides itself on authentic Northern Italian cuisine from the Piedmont region, the home of Chef Donna. The region abounds in land for grazing animals and for wine production.” 

    But braised meats, veal, and beef dishes from Piemonte cattle were not the only staples served.  

    For the first time in her life, Judy Castiglia ate escargot “Mmm, I love the taste and texture. And it goes well with the parmesan risotto.“

    Next Judy tried to grab a baked octopus in creamy polenta from Angie, but they went fast.

    “I’m embarrassed as an Italian to say I have never tried polenta. Argh!”

    Angie Duran serving Baked Octopus in Creamy Polenta

    Wayne Manigo scarfed down a capunet (cabbage-wrapped braised duck). “Yeah, there’s only two HBO shows I like better than GOT – that’s ‘VEEP’ cuz it satirizes the political world, and ’The Wire,’ cuz it got it all right about Baltimore.”

    “Baltimore is a city that I haven’t spent much time visiting. But maybe she’s the next terrain.”

    Christine Bach grabbed a slice of veal carpaccio with citrus oil. “It’s a beautiful place — The Inner Harbor is one of my favorite. There’s a lot of wonderful Italian eateries there.”

    Judy, Chris and Wayne

    Prior to becoming a chef, Amy Brandwein was doing political research for a lobbying firm in DC. Growing up in Arlington, VA, her dad was a good home cook and vegetable gardener who was always inspiring her. So when she came to the fork in the road of her career, Amy decided that rather than go further into politics, she would pursue the field that she had a passion for. She attended L’Academie de Cuisine and then applied for an externship at Roberto Donna’s Galileo. In 2000, she started in the pastry department, eventually becoming a saucier, then moved up to be a sous-chef. Then in 2005, she was named Donna’s first chef de cuisine.1

    “Amy has a passion for Italian food who goes to the bottom to really find the heart of it,” said Roberto. “She’s very driven and likes to make her point in the kitchen.”

    Wayne picked up a piece of house-made salami from the imported Charcuterie board “So Chef Amy, how is it like working for a James Beard Award-winning chef?” 

    “Roberto is an amazing chef who is intense and highly demanding. He taught me to be true to myself and to my cooking. I definitely learned a lot from him.”

    Judy raised a glass of Barolo wine. “So Amy, you’re really shaking things up. Wish there were more innovative female chefs like you.”

    “Some people call me Roberto’s sidekick. I don’t think so. I’m his chef, not his chic. I run his kitchen, and that’s a huge responsibility.”

    “We’ll drink to that!” Chris raised his pint of pale ale.

    Jason “Foodgeek” was enjoying a chestnut trifle pasta dish. “The food is fresh. Who sources your produce?”

    “We buy from local farmers’ market or cooperatives, specifically what’s in season — we have a passion for responsible and locally sourced ingredients.”

    Chef Amy Brandwein meeting guests

    “This is wonderful Amy. Thanks to you and Angie for making this an incredible experience,” Jason said.

    “Yes, I definitely feel like we’re in a family-run restaurant in Alba, nestled away in the hills of Piedmont, enjoying traditional cuisine,” Judy said as she dug into the braised beef and beef jus, sprinkled with bone marrow.

    “Well come back and join us on Thursday nights for Chef’s Table. It’s a six-course tasting menu where I want to go beyond cooking and create an experience with flavor profiles and wines to enhance the cuisine. The menu will draw from all parts of Italy and incorporate a lot of fresh, sustainable ingredients in both the cooking and cocktails.

  • Meskerem

    Meskerem

    When Meskerem opened on March 15, 1985, there wasn’t much of Ethiopia in D.C. Its owners were amongst the first wave of immigrants who fled their homeland after a Marxist military junta overthrew Emperor Haile Selassie in 1974.1 That coup triggered the civil war between Ethiopia and Eritrea that lasted until 2000 with the final peace agreement not being signed until 2018. 

    Both Ethiopian and Eritrean refugees settled down near the Adams Morgan neighborhood in D.C., a culturally diverse neighborhood known for its eclectic dining scene. The name AdMo is derived from two formerly segregated elementary schools and when the sun goes down, the laid-back 18th St transformed into a mile-long party zone. 

    The popularity and vibrant nightlife led to higher rent prices so a lot of the Ethiopian entrepreneurs moved out purchasing dilapidated properties on U and 9th Sts NW that were devastated by the 1968 riots following Martin Luther King Jr’s assassination.

    Eventually, the number of Ethiopian eateries got so dense on 9th St that several community leaders petitioned the D.C. government to rename the block “Little Ethiopia.” That petition was overruled since its location in Shaw was near Howard Theater and doing so would replace the “Black Broadway” moniker. 

    There’s always a lot of excitement in AdMo. On weekend nights, hoards of party-goers can be seen getting drunk and boisterous, raising a ruckus into the early morning.

    On Sunday, Sept 29, 2008, a man walked into Meskerem, greeted the owner, Mohaba Mohammed, with a hug, and then started chatting.  Everything seemed normal between the longtime friends. Suddenly and without provocation, the man took out his Beretta and then shot Mohaba in the neck. 2

    “Everybody don’t worry!” He yelled, then fired two shots into the ceiling before shooting himself in the head.

    Mohaba recovered from his injuries, and through the years, he and his sister, Nafisa Said kept the restaurant running, through the good times and hard, even as others around them closed.  They did that for 3o years, eventually becoming the oldest Ethiopian restaurant in the US — instrumental in shaping the personality of Adams Morgan into the vast melting pot that it is today.

    Supplies used to be tough to come by. Mohammed could not find any teff, an Ethiopian grain used to make injera.  So he used wheat flour and let the dough ferment for days in plastic buckets.  Today, Ethiopian Airlines flies daily to D.C. carrying injera, teff, spices, and much more. 

    So when Jackie invited me to join her for a Sept 2014 Ethiopian dinner at Meskerem, I was delighted to attend. There was a fairly large group of diners who were mostly Ethiopian cuisine neophytes. We didn’t sit on elegant wooden chairs or eat from pristine table tops. We were seated instead on traditional cushioned low chairs next to knee-high round tables made out of basket weave.

    Jackie Woodbury, Sept 25, 2014

    Join me tomorrow night for our Ethiopian dinner at Meskerem in Adams Morgan!

    Did you know Ethiopian New Year was Sept 11? Celebrate Meskerem, the name for the first month of the Ethiopian calendar. It ends the 3 month rainy season in Ethiopia (Jun-Aug) and celebrates more pleasant weather! We asked owners Mohaba and Nafisa to bring back their coffee ceremony for Bookalokal Inc.. Can’t wait! D.C. #DCeats #dcdining 

    Most of our group ordered the Meskerem Messob — mixed special which included beef, chicken, lamb, veggies, and unlimited injera all for $13.50 per person. A few ordered the veggie-only version. The dishes were anything but boring. The healthy portions included ruby beets, lentils, salad, carrots, green beans, and chickpeas and were flavored with garlic, paprika, and rosemary. The platter was fairly big and it was meant to be shared with others at your table.

    Sharing with others meant teamwork, better conversation, and synergy. We enjoyed our spicy palette of delicious curry-like stews accompanied by honey wine or St George, the national beer of Ethiopia. 

    The soft, stretchy, spongy flatbread doubled as an eating utensil and the hands still get plenty messy.

    “Is this the messiest you’ve ever gotten eating with your hands?” I asked my friend Yoomie Huynh.

    “Close, but not quite. The messiest I’ve ever gotten was at the Ben’s Chili Bowl half smoke eating contest during the H Street Festival. I didn’t win, but I ate everything in sight.” 

    Jackie enjoyed working with Mohaba and Nafisa in organizing the event. 

    “It brought lots of people from all different nationalities together to share a meal, a chat, and a smile,” she said. “Ethiopian cuisine is very communal.”

    I am forever awed by the resourcefulness and resiliency of the Ethiopian people.  Just like Tadiwos Belete from Boston Spa, the owners of Meskerem were innovative and resourceful in building their business and keeping it running despite limitations and setbacks.

    Less than a year later, Meskerem — after being opened every day since March 15, 1985, suddenly closed. The owners held down the fort and watched as one after another, Ethiopian eateries closed or relocated to U St or the burbs in Maryland and Northern Virginia. And after 30 years, they decided to sell the property to developers and retire from the limelight.

    And with that according to Tim Carman, food reporter at the Washington Post, “the neighborhood’s connection to that first wave of war-weary immigrants appears to be severed forever.”

    * * *

    1 Carman, Tim. “R.I.P., Meskerem: The Ethiopian restaurant that shaped Adams Morgan”, May 4, 2016

    2 “Manager of Meskerem Restaurant in D.C. shot, wounded”, Ethiopian Review, September 30, 2008

  • Building Bridges

    Building Bridges

    The next day, I hopped on a train to Northern Ireland to see Mark and Lee, my folklife fest friends who I had not seen since 2007. They took the entire day off from work to give me a grand tour of the Antrim Coast showcasing the scenic, untouched Northern Ireland coastline —  one of the most beautiful in the world, and the Giant’s Causeway, a World Heritage Site, declared by the Irish as the 8th Wonder of the World.


    Enjoying a meal with Mark and Lee in Northern Ireland

    Mark and I created an impromptu limerick which we posted on Youtube. 

    Here we are in Giant’s Causeway

    Where 40,000 columns of basalt rock stand today

    The volcano erupted

    The larva cooled

    But before there was science

    There was the Legend of Finn McCool

    It is called the Giant’s Causeway

    It was made by Finn McCool

    It’s really just the start of a stepping stone tool

    To get across to Scotland

    To fight with Bennadonner

    Through many disagreements

    They pulled each other asunder 

    He took the cloth much 

    And try and try as he may

    He never hit his target

    But he made us our Loch Neagh

    The mud landed in the water

    And with all the might he can

    He only then succeeded

    In making the Isle of Man

    So he took to playing the organ

    And over here were his pipes

    He played the Sash, Derry’s Walls, and Billyboys

    But started loads of fights

    Cuz’ the Scottish Giant thought they were his tunes

    But little did he know

    That the music for Highland bagpipes

    Came from across there near Dunloe

    We then visited Balintoy Harbour on the Antrim Coast, 13 kms away. 

    “Haven’t been back in 28 years.  When I was nine years old, my family would come here for the summer holidays, and I would dive off these rocks, swim across this pool of water, climb up the natural stairway and dive again. Would do this all day long,” Mark reflected.

    “When you return to the Capital City, please let all your friends and runners know how beautiful the Emerald Isle truly is,” Mark said.  Then I gave him and Lee a big hug and wondered where in the world we would meet again.

    I got to do a lot of quality sightseeing and made new friends who taught me a lot about the precious value of life and respecting other people.  I learned about the sectarian conflict and how it is important to learn and understand each other.

    Belfast is known for its troubles and religious conflict.  For over 25 years, the IRA (Irish Republican Army) clashed with the Irish National Liberation Army. The Republicans carried out a guerrilla campaign against the British forces as well as bombing infrastructure and killing innocent civilians. 

    On Bloody Friday 1972, the IRA set off 22 bombs killing 9 people and injuring 120.  When the bombs dropped, people did not know what to do.  There were no bomb shelters.  They did not know whether to run, hide or stay sheltered at home. The IRA hoped they would be just as successful in catching the government and the people unprepared in hopes of getting Northern Ireland out of the UK.

    Truly, there was only one main pursuit: The Irish Republicans wanted a united Ireland. More than 3,500 people were killed of whom over half were civilians.

    However, there was never such a state as a united Ireland.  As an outsider looking in, I didn’t truly understand what the big deal was, other than the name and the unity.  Just ten years ago the border was filled with concrete barriers, barbed wires and bombs. Today Northern Ireland and Ireland enjoy an open border where citizens could cross either side freely without having to produce a passport. 

     “I’m glad you took some time to research our history,” Mark said.  “It was very important for the parties to understand our differences so that the IRA and the British government could properly negotiate.” 

    The last place I visited was the First Presbyterian Church where I met tour guide Arthur Magee.

    Arthur Magee

    “Belfast has been a by-word for the troubles, sectarian strife, and intolerance. If you come nigh you will see a city where on a micro level, people are building bridges.  The most important bridge that is been built is in each and every single person here. That bridge is between who you actually are and how you see yourself. Whether you’re part of the problem, looking back and blaming other people, or whether you’re part of the solution and reaching out and seeing other human beings, as exactly that, human beings. We’re no different from any other place in this planet. We’re products of circumstances and history. And the same problems that exist in Belfast apply everywhere.  Belfast isn’t a byword for intolerance, it’s a beacon for hope. It’s a place where people are reaching out and it shows the possibility of change. And it also shows the importance of each and single person to reach out, to build bridges and to see other people as exactly that, other people.”

    This whole trip was more eye-opening than attending class at GWU, and definitely a lot more fun. No encyclopedia, no ebook reader, no youtube video could teach me life’s social skills better than what I learned in Barcelona, Normandy, or Belfast.

    I only had one final day in London when I returned from Belfast. In life, nothing rarely happens the way you intended it to.  It’s important to be flexible, fluid and understanding.  Sometimes life brings you pleasant surprises — it’s not scripted or orchestrated, but just right.  Life can be charming, like that, if you let it. In the long run, we will appreciate the fact that we were flexible and cherish the tender times that we were able to spend together.

    The dinner with Kim and my nieces was wholesome and filling.  I did not know it was even possible to make spaghetti so delicious.  The meal, in fact, was just as good as Rio’s Japanese Tonkatsu curry she cooked for us the night I left for Northern Ireland. This is also the very first time I’ve spent time with Kim, Kae, Rio, and Rintaro all at the same time, under one roof.  So it’s a very special moment to be thankful and cherish especially when we let life’s circumstances take the lead.

    We had a wonderful time, talking, laughing, and just enjoying a simple and pleasant meal with friends and loved ones. Nothing special, though it meant the entire world to me.

    After dinner, we all went to Notting Hill to visit Rio as she was painting her clothing store.  Notting Hill is a fabulous, affluent, fashionable community with beautiful Victorian homes and attractive storefronts.  It is a very artsy place that reminds me of Chelsea, NYC, and Georgetown, D.C.

    The last 12 months have been momentous for Kim since this is the first time that she has seen Mom, my older sister, Pearl, and me, within the same calendar year, since we immigrated to the US in ’79  (Mom in Japan at my grandmother’s funeral, Pearl in Hong Kong and now home in London). This was no coincidence, and it was a precious moment to forever embrace.

    Luck was recurrent through the course of the trip since the idea was born during a routine run on the Mall.  I boarded a Space-A flight from Joint Base Andrews at the very last minute and every moment after that was entirely spontaneous.

    It was serendipitous that I met Marcy and fortuitous to reunite with my folklife friends Mark and Lee.  And I wanted nothing more than to re-create this experience for Americans back home.  And on the MAC (Military Airlift Command) flight from Ramstein AFB back to Andrews, I had plenty of time to contemplate and plan my next big project.  I was looking forward to coming home and reuniting with my pet parrot, Apollo and my pit bull, Georgia. Both were in good hands with my housemate, Kanita Williams.  I knew that fate would lead her to become a lot more than just a typical roommate.

  • TAPS

    TAPS

    Suzannah was a godsend who turned out to be a perfect sales rep and event organizer for our fledgling startup. Originally from Charleston, she carried the charm of a genteel Southern hostess and a transcending smile of a graceful beauty queen. She arranged a meetup with Biergarten Haus, a German beer garden on the newly revitalized H Street corridor known locally as the Atlas District. Suzannah reached out to Arturas “Jeepo” Vorobjovas who also co-owns the Russia House in Dupont Circle.  

    “Have you googled your restaurant lately?” Suzannah asked. “Your online reputation can either be an asset or a liability, and we’re here to help.”

    “Germans love their pilsners and already flock to our beer gardens. Our reputation is flawless.”

    “But there are so many beer lovers, who are not familiar with the art of drinking Bavarian beer. We’re here to make the introductions.”

    Jeepo was easily persuaded by Suzannah’s charm and got her in touch with Ali Loo, the general manager who agreed to provide free food for our event. 

    Now the difficult chore of attracting people fell squarely on my shoulders. I immediately visited the Meetup website and noticed the D.C./Metro Area Reddit group was hosting an Oktoberfest event and searching for a venue. I contacted them, and they agreed to co-host the event with us as long as we would share with them our favorite Subreddit group.

    “Beer Drinkers!” I answered enthusiastically. “And German beers reign!”

    Biergarten Haus

    The Biergarten prosts German brews by the stein.  And since the beer drinker’s paradise is home to over 200 yeast strains, 40 sorts of malt, and 100 different hops, there’s a different taste for every day for the rest of your life.

    The Biergarten is beyond spacious. There are three bars spread throughout the entire grounds: outdoor, indoor, and on the rooftop all with phenomenal views. There was floor-to-ceiling vintage art decor that brought back fond memories of fun times at a Stuttgart beer hall. German -enthusiasts sat beside long, rustic wood tables, while many held foot-tall beer steins congregating around repurposed bourbon barrels. Outside an oompah-pah band played traditional Oktoberfest music and women in blue polka-dotted dresses danced the Schuhplattler. 

    Pork Knuckle (Schweinshaxe)

    Ali brought out the pork knuckle served in a puddle of malty beer gravy. The lip-smacking rich meat wrapped in a golden sheath of crackling easily fell off the bone.  It was the perfect dish that served a large, rambunctious group of techies in a boisterous beer hall.

    Suzannah raised her stein to Ali and me. “What a lively event, kudos on our first one together.” 

    Reddit / RUNINOut Meetup at Biergarten Haus

    “Danke schön,” I replied. “I picked up a phrase here and there at my last duty station in Stuttgart.”

    “Well I know no Deutsch, but my Grandma was born and raised in France, and she made sure we spoke it fluently.”

    “Super, maybe you should visit Bistrot Du Coin in Kalorama for our next event. We can all mingle over Foie Gras.”

    “That’s quite a hike. There’s nothing French in the Atlas District?”

    “Unless you consider Louisiana French?”

    “Absolutely, Cajun is a combination of French and Southern cuisines, which is kind of like me, since I’m a Carolina girl with French descent.”

    “True dat. Well there’s TruOrleans, the new Cajun restaurant on the west end.”

    The following week, I met with James “Tru” Redding who just opened his bi-level Cajun restaurant just over the H Street Bridge.  Redding is also a partner in Arlington’s Sushi Rock and Dupont Circle’s Public Bar and Lupe as well as Landover’s Stadium Club, a steakhouse and strip gentlemen’s club.

    The previous tenant was a run-down radio station where Petey Greene, the legendary ex-convict turned radio talk-show host, worked and was instrumental in calming the people of D.C. in the aftermath of Martin Luther King’s assassination. 

    Today, the building is beautifully renovated with exposed bricks and an airy New Orleans-style veranda giving it an authentic French Quarter vibe. A sign painted on the side of the building shows a retro-looking advertisement for ginger mint julep.

    Tru Redding met me at the patio and gave me a spirited tour of his new digs.  I admired all the wall art that Redding picked up from Bourbon Street, reflecting the character and soul of the Big Easy.

    We sat upstairs on the veranda enclosed by ornate wrought iron railings with a commanding view of the Capitol. Overhead, large fans rotated above us, ushering in a cool breeze.  He offered me an Abita Purple Haze and we sat down by a stained-wood table with bottles of Tabasco sauce and “Slap Ya Mama” Cajun seasoning.

    “So what made you open up a Cajun restaurant in D.C.?”

    “During a local golf tournament, I met the East’s, a third-generation Louisiana family who invited me to a duck hunting trip in the Creole Nature Trail. After a long day, we would return to their family home where they would cook up a storm.  It was the best Cajun Creole food I’ve ever tasted – not the fancy stuffy you find in the French Quarter. And after that, I was on a mission to bring back a slice of N’awlins to the Nation’s Capital.”

    “Has everything gone as planned?”

    “We made a lot of mistakes.  We opened up way too early and there were disruptions in service and food.  We need to reach out to folks who were not pleased with our services and give us a second try.”

    “Do ya’ll think H Street is ready for a block of the Big Easy?”

    “We certainly do. We want to be good neighbors, though, and we hope that we can bring the right balance of Mardi Gras festivities while been courteous and considerate of our neighbors.  Hopefully, they will see us as good citizens, and we need your help in spreading that message.”

    The following month we co hosted “The Taste of TruOrleans” with Eventstir, a crowdfunding platform for events, and over a dozen people met up at the patio to devour D.C.’s best Cajun-style cooking.

    We parked the pedicab outside and foodies piled in to devour pistolettes, andouille-studded gumbo and crawfish étouffée, jambalaya, and gator tenders, compliments of Chef Andre Miller, a Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse alumnus.


    Suzannah enjoying TruOrleans cuisine

    Both Wayne Manigo, a local entrepreneur and comedian, and I were enjoying the Abita Purple Haze beer on tap.

    “I want to go back to the people of N’awlins and thank them for the birth of their food,” said Wayne 

    “And I want to them for their interesting cocktails and stiff drinks. The Sazeracs really packs a punch,” I said. “Wanna try the Hurricane next?”

    “How strong do you want it? They range from a mild level 1 to gale force 3 which is topped with Bacardi 151-proof rum,” the bartender said.

    I squinted back at him and made a confused face, and the bartender immediately knew which one to pour.

    “So what’s the next project Chef?” I asked.

    “We hope to be serving breakfast soon with beignets and jambalaya-stuffed biscuits.”

    “Laissez les bons temps rouler.”


    Suzannah enjoying Japanese Okonomiyaki

    Suzannah was the perfect adventurer in discovering and enjoying new cuisines.  She was someone who could make something as benign as eating crepes look attractive.  And beyond the bountiful platters of beef bourguignon and chocolate soufflé, she maintained her stunning, hourglass figure like Raquel Welch.

    It definitely helped that she was an ardent fan of cardio, and she kept reminding me of the importance of cutting back on drinks and staying active.

    “C’mon Chito, you’ve been drinking too much Abita. It’s time to work it out.”

    If we weren’t walking to restaurants, we were sprinting to them and often joining other casual joggers around the expansive (National) Mall. D.C. happens to be one of the best cities for runners due to its walkability and abundant access to parkland. 

    n one of our weekly rituals, we crossed paths with the Marine Corps Marathon runners at the Rock Creek and Potomac Parkway by the glamorous Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. We enjoyed making small talk with other runners and meeting new friends along the way just like we did at neighborhood restaurants.

    As we approached the scenic Hains Point peninsular, we saw hundreds of volunteers in blue, waving American flags with tribute posters commemorating the fallen.  What an inspiring and emotional way to honor and remember those who made their ultimate sacrifice.  I knew I would be sweating today, but no one told me that I would be weeping also. 

    I was honored to meet Monica Velez who lost two brothers—one in 2004 in Iraq and one in 2006 in Afghanistan. She was running her first marathon to raise money for TAPS, a non-profit organization that helps families nationwide cope with the deaths of their fallen soldiers. 

    José “Freddy” Velez

    José “Freddy” Velez

    Corporal José “Freddy” Velez was killed in action in Fallujah in 2004 and was posthumously awarded the Silver Star.

    “Oct 31st, 2004 was the last day we spoke to Freddie. His final words to us are, ‘Be Strong, Don’t Give Up.’ Still holding on to those words and that moment.” 

    Specialist Andrew Velez had the difficult task of escorting his brother’s body back to the United States. Two years later, he committed suicide in Afghanistan.

    Left-Right: Freddie, Monica, Andrew Velez

    “Tell me more about TAPS.”

    “TAPS helps brothers and sisters, fiancés, and battle buddies by providing counseling and grief support.  They get us all connected so we can talk about our grief and work through it together.”

    “Being a sibling is a lot more than being a spouse and parent.  I expected to have my brothers with me for the rest of my life. With TAPS, I’m able to share my stories and help other family members. I’m able to reach two different spectrums of grief and help them go through the coping skills to get through each day.”

    “Monica, your story really touches my heart. I want to thank both Freddy and Andrew who made their ultimate sacrifice You are a special angel – thank you for your service of gold.  Continue on your journey.”

    “I remember our long runs together. I can hear my brothers cheering for me now.”

    I stopped to give Monica a long embrace.

    As we said our goodbyes, I promised myself to return next year.  If not to run, then to cheer runners along the course. I was deeply moved and inspired by their spirit and drive.  And for those who gave their lives, their sacrifices will not go in vain.

  • The Gentle Giant

    The Gentle Giant

    Sarah Berghoff was out with friends and wanted to visit a brand new spot in Shaw for cocktails and Asian-inspired cuisine. Upon entry, a 1920’s style mural with an icon of Charlie Chaplin came into view. The space was elegant with a speakeasy vibe. On the wall above the bar, The Tramp played on a reel. 

    A tall, burly man with a big smile came over and greeted them.

    “Hi, I’m Armin. Welcome to Chaplin’s. We’re a ramen, cocktail, and dumpling bar.”

    “What does Charlie Chaplin have to do with Ramen?” Sarah asked.

    “Well, the legendary silent film star was adored in Japan. That’s because he could make people laugh without uttering a word.”

    “What a charming connection. What do you recommend?”

    “If you like your spirits strong, I recommend the Tramp. It’s Bourbon with a burnt orange peel. For ramen, I recommend the ASS.”

    “Excuse me?”

    “ASS – Asian Spicy Sour. chicken chashu, coconut milk, chicken broth, and pork butt. It’s our take on the ever-popular Tom Yum soup with noodles imported from Japan.”

    Several minutes after Sarah and her friends sat down, the bartender with a cool Chaplin-style outfit served them their classy cocktails.

    Armin came by again to see what they thought of the innovative cocktail menu. 

    “Fabulous. I can see you have broad experience in this industry.”

    “Yes, I’ve worked in this business for over 20 years. At the Capitol City Brewery and most recently at the Saint Arnold’s Mussel Bar.”

    “Amazing sounds like you’re a powerful force in the restaurant industry.”

    “Well, the co-owners are bartender brothers, Ari and Micah Wilder – owners of Red Light on 14th Street – we’re a star-studded class.”

    “You know there’s someone you should meet that’s an up-and-comer in this industry. He’s a quintessential foodie and has a finger on the pulse in this industry.”

    Armin with Sarah

    The next day I got a call from Armin. 

    “So Sarah speaks highly of you. I thought I was the Big Man on Campus.”

    “You’re a rockstar, Armin. All I do is promote restaurants and host some events. You’re the brains behind your brand and do all the heavy lifting.”

    “Well, we sure could use some help with marketing and developing our web presence.  When we opened a few months ago, we were named The Chaplin. Now his estate is threatening a lawsuit so we changed it to Chaplin’s”

    “I can help with the name change and ensure that your website and social media reflects the new and improved branding.”

    The following week, I met with Armin and his co-owners, brothers Ari and Micah Wilder as they gave me a spirited tour of their cozy space. 

    The vibe and ambience were warm and welcoming and the Laughing Gas cocktail I ordered was potent and bursting with flavors.  

    “We figured out a way to compress carbon dioxide with helium,” said Micah. “You’re gonna sound really funny and everyone’s gonna be laughing at you.”

    I also met Chef Myo Htun, a native of Burma who cooked under a Master Ramen Chef in Tokyo for 30 years.

    “Chef Myo is a tireless worker,” Armin said. “He’s worked every day since we’ve opened. We should make him a co-owner one day.”

    Chef Myo Htun

    Chef Myo served me the Tonkotsu Ramen with the broth made from boiling pork neck bones – the collagen in the connective tissue transforms into gelatin, which gives the broth its silky texture. Inside the bowl were melt-in-your-mouth chasu pork belly and soft boiled eggs with custardy egg yolk.

    “Your ramen kicks ass, Armin. I would love to host our next get-together here and invite all ramen enthusiasts to celebrate Shaw’s hottest, new setting.”

    “Sounds like a fabulous idea. If we could also do a fundraiser for Bread for the City, that would be great also.”

    The next month on October 22, 2014, dozens of ramen and cocktail fans converged at the downstairs bar for a private event. 

    Christine arrived early as usual and secured a spot at the bar. 

    “Hey Chris, good to see you. How was the military ball with Khoi?”

    “The Vietnamese-American Military Banquet was an overwhelming experience with lots of shiny uniforms, great food, and formal traditions — we had a blast.”

    “I can picture that. I’ve been to a few military balls myself. They can be quite fun. “

    “Met so many amazing Vietnamese Americans and they gave each of us a commemorative coin.”

    “Carry it around with you — it’s a good luck charm.”

    “And I wish the best to Khoi as he heads to Kosovo for a six-month peacekeeping mission.”

    To kick things off, many guests were introduced to the payday adult-only dumplings — infused with Japanese whiskey. You could choose from a steamed shrimp dumpling on a whiskey sour named The Cold War, a hot pork dumpling on a lemon emulsion, or a hot beef dumpling with Japanese whiskey.

    “This is what happens when a couple of bartenders open up a restaurant,” Micah declared.

    I’ve tried all three, and Micah told me to tap on the brakes. So I was happy to entertain guests to see which one they preferred. 

    BJ enjoying the dumplings

    BJ McDuffie sampled The Cold War. “Mmm, the shrimp shooters are savory and boozy–a perfect combination. I’m ready for the next one.”

    I ordered a Payday from Margaux behind the bar. “How was Drink the District BJ?”

    “Meh, could be better — it was a scorching, hot day. But this is even hotter.”

    “So, what have you been up to lately?”

    “Bowling, bocce, and brunch — that ’bout sums it up.”

    “Have you been to Alba Osteria in NOMA? They serve an awesome brunch and have a bocce parklet outside.”

    “Not yet, but I’m a fan of Roberto Donna.”

    “How about Myo Htun – what do you think of his culinary skills?”  

    Christine Bach enjoying the Cure & ASS

    “By the juiciness of these dumplings, Chef Myo ranks up there with José Andrés and Richard Sandoval.”

    As expected, our resident comic made a showing.

    “One of my favorite indie chefs is Erik Bruner-Yang,” said Wayne Manigo. “And with my cooking skills and an endless supply of ramen, I could give  Toki Underground a run for their money.” 

    “What if you’re a butterfly, but you’re too busy being a caterpillar?”

    “Mine is Chef Anh Luu, who cooks Cajun/creole with Vietnamese ingredients,” Christine said. “And I like my ramen spicy, so I’m here to kick some A.S.S.” While she waited, she ordered the Cure, and Micah blow-torched a piece of rosemary on her fruity cocktail. 

    “Yeah, I know it’s all presentation, but I swear it does taste better,” she said.

    Wayne took a taste of Christine’s Cure. “Please pour me a damn drink !! Do not put any herbs and spices in my cocktail that is only for food and also don’t light the dam thing on fire either!”

    Armin put a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. “What makes Chaplin’s stand out from all the rest is the personality of our bartenders. People come from near and far just to have Jake (Jacob Simpson), Said, or Margaux pour them a drink, ask them how their day is going and tell a kickass joke. You’re hired.”

    Margaux Donati mixed a Vagabond cocktail. “We love you boss. You’re a true friend.”

    It was also good to see Deb Santos again. 

    “Hey Big Shot, how’s your growth?”

    “A long, hard struggle and still tripping.”

    “That’s normal. It’s important to show some self-compassion for your blunders.  Don’t regret the things you have done as much as the things you never did.  It’s better to get up and do something rather than nothing, and right now, you’re the big-time host of this fabulous party, so you should be grateful.”

    “I can always rely on you for wise advice Deb. Still haven’t cut back on my drinking though.”

    “Alcohol is a depressant and keeps us at a lower vibration. Try limiting yourself to two drinks and take small sips and plenty of water in between.”

    “Limiting myself to two drinks is like telling my pitbull, he can’t eat my ice cream.”

    “What if you’re a butterfly, but you’re too busy being a caterpillar?”

    When Sarah arrived, I was pleased to show her my new business card. She liked the running Orangutan logo popping out on a yellow background. But when she turned it over, she nearly flipped out. 

    Sarah showing her picture to friends

    “Whoa, you put my picture on the back!!”

    “Well, you said you wanted to see the picture of us at Toro Toro.”

    “But not on your business card.”

    “But, your face is more interesting than mine,” I explained. “No worries, you’re not the only one — I also put Kanita and Jackie on there, too.”

    “Well, I’m honored to be promoting your website,” she replied in jest.

    “And I’m honored to have you serve as our de facto brand ambassador. After all, you introduced me to Armin and Chaplin’s.”

    Later that evening inside the Opium Den, Armin and I were slurping on some ASS.

    “So what do you do for fun?” He asked.

    “Besides running and drinking, I like to go paddleboarding on the Potomac. I normally launch from the Slip Inn on (Joint Base) Bolling.”

    “Right on bro. I love boating myself. We like to take the Chaplin’s crew and launch from Edgewater (MD).”

    “So the neighborhood is continuing to change. What are your plans moving forward?”

    “Perhaps adding a sushi joint next door or building an American diner across the street.”

    I took a sip of the Kid cocktail “Would it be another Hollywood-inspired name?”

    “Yes, Shawshank Diner comes to mind–one of the best movies ever made..”

    “And Shaw is one of the city’s hippest up-and-coming neighborhoods,” I said.

    “Indeed, my beloved community is still very much on the move. This is why I love this city.” 

    “I’ll drink to that — another round of yummy shooters, please. Take it easy on the whiskey.”

    I looked over my shoulders and could swear I saw the stern eyes of Deb keeping me in check.

    The A.S.S. is so savory, you can drink it by the bowl

  • O Canada!

    O Canada!

    I checked into the HI Vancouver Hostel and started searching for a Drupal developer who would be willing to take on my project at a reasonable cost.

    Then she walked in. I tried hard to keep my eyes on my screen and not at the soft, velvet flesh of her long, graceful legs.  As she crossed the lobby of the hostel, she paused briefly and turned slightly.  That’s when she caught me looking.

    She had sandy blonde hair, that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes were green like emeralds that sparkled under the moonlight in the windswept Georgia Strait that separated Vancouver Island from British Columbia.

    I forced myself to focus on my work, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes off her luscious curves.  And I sat frozen as she gently approached, quickly trying to formulate a one-liner.

    “Love your feet,” she said softly.

    I didn’t bother to look down. I knew what my feet looked like.  They were dry, calloused, and much neglected.

    Hers were sleek and graceful and appeared to sparkle under her soft, Bohemian dress.

    “Your feet, the ones on your computer,” she explained.

    “Oh, those.” I blushed lightly, my eyes smiled back.  As she drew nearer, I could see her taut, smooth skin stretched tightly over her sculptured rouge cheeks.

    “Oh, they’re my Five Fingers,” as I explained that I am a huge fan of the Vibrams Five Fingers running shoes and being an avid brand promoter, I had stuck a pair of their running shoe decals on the top of my laptop.

    “Oh, are you a runner?” She already knew the answer to this question.

    “Yup, Luv it more than anything.”

    “I’m not much of a runner, but I do like biking.”

    “Me too, in fact, I bought my bike to Vancouver from Washington, DC.”

    “Well then, perhaps we can go biking sometime. I’m pretty familiar with all the bike trails in the area. Lived here nearly my entire life”

    “And I’m brand new to this city, so would love a personalized tour.”

    “Well, I’m not available tonight, but perhaps tomorrow night.  My name is Naomi, but friends call me Pony. Here’s my contact, in case you’re available.”   

    Wow, I knew Canadian women loved the outdoors, but are they always this aggressive?

    The next day, we met at the hostel and rode our bikes toward Stanley Park. We were first met by a statue of Lord Stanley, the former Governor-General of Canada, standing with open arms and decorated with a Vancouver Canucks sweater.  Then we proceeded towards the rainforest trails and marveled at the 100-year-old trees.  At the north side, we stopped to admire the Girl in a Wetsuit statue decked with a Canucks jersey.

    Girl in a Wetsuit statue

    Next, we cycled the seawall trail around the Lost Lagoon offering pristine views of the mountains juxtaposed with the downtown skyline. 

    Turtles were basking in the sun, Blue Herons standing motionless in the water, waiting for a fish or frog to emerge.  

    The trail was rather flat and we rested at Second Beach where we dipped our feet in the water while Naomi shared her passion for yachting and how Vancouver serves as a remarkable outdoor playground.

    “There’s a reason why they call Vancouver the Most Livable City,” I said.

    “But lately, our reputation has been tarnished by the riots.”

    “I heard that the city was stunned when the Canucks lost to the Boston Bruins in game 7 of the Stanley Cup.”

    “The Canucks had never won a Stanley Cup, they had already claimed it as theirs for the taking,” she said.

    “Yes, they had the league’s best record, scored more goals than any other team, and allowed the fewest,” 

    “No Canadian team has won the Stanley Cup in 18 years. We felt robbed since the US dominates in the mighty triad of football, basketball, and baseball, and Canadians love their ice hockey,” she said. 

    Fans set fire to vehicles, smashed windows, and looted stores – it was a big black eye to Vancouver’s moniker as the ‘Most Livable City.’

    “I joined the clean-up and food vibe movement. Real Canuck fans are not hooligans.”

    The next day, Naomi and I visited Gastown, the site of the previous riots in 1971. We attended the Fête de la Musique event filled with local musicians from baroque to rock.

    Naomi and friend dancing in Gastown

    We then visited the Cambie Pub, an unpretentious bar that’s been open since 1897. The place reeked of grunginess, but the vibe was amazing. The pub was a walk in time and there were many interesting characters there. Backpackers and tourists who were staying at the hostel upstairs walking through. No fancy cocktails here. Just shots, vodka sodas, gin and tonics and cheap pitchers of beer.

    The Pub was only a stone’s throw away from Blood Alley and Water Street passing trendy furniture and clothing shops next to chronic meth and crackheads hanging out by the street art.

    We stopped in front of the Steam Clock which was really half powered by electricity.  It was a great visit with a lot of sights, sounds and ambience.

    Naomi and I on Blood Alley, Gastown

    “You need to add Vancouver to your website,” Naomi stated.

    “If I can find someone to build it, I certainly will,” I responded.

    “Super, please keep me posted. I’ll walk you back to the hostel.”

    The following day, I set up a meeting with Gregg Coppen of North Studio at their downtown office.

    “I want customers in Vancouver to be able to tell us their favorite dishes so that when they travel to San Diego or Washington, DC, we can make customized recommendations.”

    “Food is a very appealing content. A content management system like Drupal should help you best store, organize and display it,” said Gregg.

    “How do we categorize each dish?”

    “By using the taxonomy module. You can define your vocabulary such as ‘pasta’ and then add terms to each vocabulary such as ‘fettuccine, spaghetti, penne, lasagna’.”

    “Can we break it down even further?”

    “Sure, for spaghetti we can create new terms ‘angel hair, bucatini, fusilli, etc. You can go as deep as you want.”

    “And we can do the same for restaurants and stores?”

    “Sure ‘fine dining, fast-casual, family-style, cafe, buffet, contemporary casual, bistro, etc.’”

    “And then break it down even further by cuisine, whether it’s romantic, is good for sports lovers, have a view, etc.”

    “Yes, and under sports pub, we can describe their favorite teams. You wouldn’t find a Canucks fan at Boston Bruins bar, or vice versa.”

    “How would customers be able to search and find the right content?”

    “By incorporating Apache Solr for the faceted search. Like when you’re shopping for a type of shoe on Zappos, you can narrow down by brand, size, color, the whole nine yards.”

    “Wow, this is a complex project, and I can’t wait to get started. I knew that coming to Vancouver was a great idea. But as a fledgling startup, I’m on a shoestring budget. What is the best price you can offer me?”

    “Lemme discuss with the office and get back to you soon.”

    The rest of the team from North Studio loved my idea but responded that the total cost would surpass $30,000.

    “That’s too much. I’m a struggling MBA student. Can we do it for 15K?” 

    When I was riding the Greyhound bus back to DC, I got a call from North Studio that they had accepted my offer.  They were impressed by my passion and wanted to build something of value that could be used coast-to-coast.  To offset the costs, we would work together in building the site, and I would be solely responsible for adding the content.  I definitely couldn’t find these rates in DC or any major metropolitan city.

    That’s why I had to travel 4,000 miles and back to find a well-rounded team who understood the intricacies of food, how to categorize it, and display this information on a mesmerizing, visually appealing site.