RUNIN Ragged

Category: Restaurant

  • 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.

  • The Block

    The Block

    The Channel was a great place to relax, enjoy a pint, catch up with ole friends, and watch an English Premier League game or two. My favorite high round table and wood stool served as my personal office space, one with a full-service bar. Needless to say, I didn’t get much work done.

    There wasn’t a single day, that I wouldn’t meet someone new, and often the bartenders Oscar or Cormac would introduce me to people sitting at the bar. And sometimes I brought Apollo with me to the sidewalk patio. Friends tolerated him as long as he didn’t squawk too loud or poop in their drinks.

    Part of the benefits of working for the Channel was the 10% employee discount.  So when I wanted to take a break from beef chow fun at Chinatown Express or fettuccine alfredo at Vapiano’s, I could choose corned beef and Reuben sandwiches, with a frosty pint of Guinness.

    It also helped that adjacent to the Channel was Absolute Noodle and Sushi, and a block away, its sister eatery, Absolute Thai. Camping out at the Channel and working within the three square block Chinatown neighborhood, I was able to build on our burgeoning list of clientele for both site-building and event hosting.

    Jackie Woodbury (right)

    All the restaurants that I worked with within the Chinatown hub were Asian with the exception of my Celtic cousins.

    Paschal brought over a pint of Smithwicks “So did you hear about the new deli opening down the road in NOMA (North of Massachusetts Ave)?”

    I took a long sip of the malty sweetness. “Yeah, I think I read about it on D.C. Eater.”

    “I noticed the ‘Opening Soon’ signs on my way home while I’m waiting for my commuter bus to Bowie.”

    “Not only are you a great ‘office’ manager, but you’re also a great source of information.”

    “Yeah, let me know about their pastrami vis-a-vis our corned beef. Want to know if they can complement or if they’re our competition.”

    Just down the road from the Channel on Mass Ave, past the lifeless concrete island known as the US Government Accountability Office, and next to Wise Guy Pizza was the sparkling new Carving Room, a Moroccan-Jewish deli replete with a full bar.

    Owner Oded Weizmann, with support from co-founder Rachel Steiman, runs the kitchen and insists you don’t call him a chef.

    “Our motto is house-cured and hand-carved,” said Oded. “Our corned beef is wet-cured for 21 days, and our pastrami dry-cured for 9 days.”

    “So I work for the Irish Channel, and we’re really proud of our corned beef,” I mentioned.

    “Well I was born in Israel, and I can tell you that corned beef is more Jewish than Irish.”

    “Right on Oded. So what’s in the cigar?” I asked.

    “They’re fried spring rolls with Moroccan spiced house-ground brisket. They are to die for?”

    “Wow, pretty unique. What do you have featured at the bar?”

    “Well our slogan is ‘Meat, Knifes, Beer’, so we have quite an extensive beer list from small-batch brewers. Beer is served by the pint or in a growler which is a bit larger than a pitcher.”

    “What’s above the growlers?”

    “Oh, those are our jars of pickled vegetables — every entree comes with pickled veggies on the side.”

    I noticed that the Carving Room was using a rudimentary Wix site, so I readily segued into our M.O.  Oded appeared interested and was impressed by the fact that we were working with a half dozen restaurants in the area.

    “Yes, you have quite an extensive list of clients that I’m quite familiar with.  The partnerships can be very complementary.”

    “I totally agree, and we should inform the Irish Channel not to brood over the hot, new restaurant in town. So can I setup a time where I can photograph your dishes and sample your cuisine?”

    Wayne Manigo and I had often knocked back a few pints and devoured the corned beef sandwiches at the Channel, and today he was in the mood for something rich and smoky.

    “I’m a lover of food period. Don’t matter where it comes from or who cooked it,” Wayne once said. “Food is a love language of it’s own.”


    Wayne enjoying the pastrami

    The first meal served was the homemade pastrami and fresh potato salad with a zing of mustard and horseradish

    “The pastrami sandwich is really kicking,” Wayne said. “Every succulent bite is a symphony of richness and flavor.”

    Next Oded brought out the CR burger made with house-ground brisket, bacon with an over-easy egg on a toasted brioche bun.

    Wayne loved the creamy potato salad, but he also adored the fries with cumin garlic salt seasoning. 

    “And the sauces,” he commented. “It just brought everything up to the next level.”

    “I definitely know what it’s like to work in the kitchen,” Wayne said.

    “Yes, it’s all about the knife skills isn’t it,” Oded added.

    “So where did you learn how to cook?” I asked.

    “In 2013, I was living out of my car after I quit my IT job at the SEC. I decided to take culinary classes offered by the Department of Veterans Affairs.”

    “How did you do?” Oded asked.

    “I know it’s tough to stay focused.  One day I was working in the kitchen without my usual energy and my instructor, Chef Jared said ‘I hope you’re not wasting my time by daydreaming.’  From that moment on, I remembered my problems are not bigger than me!”

    “Wow, Chef Jared is one hell of a role model,” I added.

    “Yup, and I really appreciate you Oded for showing us some of your stellar cooking skills. Can I work here and steal your recipes?”


    Oded Weizmann

    “Appreciate you coming over and tasting our cuisine. Please let everyone know we got the best pastrami and corned beef in town.”

    “I can’t agree with you more. We’ll guzzle Guinness at the Channel, and stroll over for the pastrami,” I said.

    “Wait till Guy Fieri finds out about this joint. It’s just a matter of time before it’s featured on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives,” Wayne added.

    After bagging Burma, Ming’s, the Irish Channel, Absolute Noodle, Absolute Thai and now the Carving Room,  it was time to branch out further than the Chinatown enclave. But parking was expensive and D.C. loved to issue parking tickets like it was candy.

    “I told you to purchase a pedicab,” Jason Morenz suggested. “When the weather is nice, you can sit in the back and whistle at the ladies.”

    “Why would I want to do that? So I can visit other restaurants in the area without having to drive?”

    “Yes and you can hustle some money on the side. This could be a whole new vertical.”

    * * *

  • Iron Chef

    Iron Chef

    One sunny weekend during the fall of 2013. The restaurant scene in G-Town was abuzz with tourist activity. I passed Georgetown Piano Bar and then Jinx Tattoo parlor, soothing sounds of reggae music emanated from the brown brick establishment. Bandolero was next and this is where I hoped I would cut my first big deal.

    I was taken aback by the “Day of the Dead” atmosphere complete with metal cemetery gates and faux animal skulls hanging eerily on the walls. The interior was dark, the music deafening, the entire ambience spooky and western-chic.

    I sat at the bar and ordered suckling pig tacos and grilled corn on the cob. The bartender poured me “El Bandolero”, their house Margarita on tap. He garnished it with lime and it was delectably rimmed with citrus salt. 

    After my meal, I waited anxiously, wondering whether I should order another cocktail. 

    Luckily, when I turned around, I came face to face with the Top Chef, himself, Mike Isabella. He wore his usual gray short sleeve chef coat, his right arm adorning a brass-knuckled pizza cuter tattoo, and on his left a brand new Mexican Cowboy. He was clean-shaven and wore a big smile. But his voice was gruff and he seemed dismissive.

    “Thank you for showing me your website, but we’re not interested in your service. We have our own publicist and graphic designer. Our business is doing just fine.”

    “How ’bout hosting an event here, say 20-30 people, select appetizers, social media coverage, you name it?”

    “You’re welcome to speak to our manager to arrange an event. But we’re quite busy as it is, and we won’t be comping any meals.”

    Shortly, after Isabella went back to the open kitchen, I returned to my pedicab and quietly rode to my next stop. As I steered down L St towards the GWU campus, I passed Bar McFadden’s to my left and 51st State Bar to my right, both great establishments to catch a game after work. But for now, I had seen my share of D.C. eateries. Tomorrow, I would venture into the Commonwealth to engage with other Top Chefs.

    Crystal City, VA. has for many years been the home of military contractors and govies. During lunch and happy hour, they perennially congregate on restaurant row or at José Andrés’ Jaleo enjoying traditional as well as cutting-edge flavors.

    Adjacent to Jaleo on Crystal Drive was Chef Morou’s Kora, a trattoria-style Italian restaurant that opened a couple of years ago. 

    As I approached the street-side glass doors, fondant blue jays chirped from olive trees that billowed over the sidewalk.

    When I entered, I was greeted with dangling tree branches. Glowing tree canopies created a sense of intimacy. On the wall behind the kiln-fired pizza oven, decal tree branch silhouettes conferred a feeling of calm and relaxation. 

    I sat at the bar and ordered a Dark & Stormy. Then devoured a slice of the chicken pesto pizza.

    Minutes later, Chef Morou entered with his crisp, white chef coat.

    I sat at the bar and ordered a Dark & Stormy. Then devoured a slice of the chicken pesto pizza.

    Minutes later, Chef Morou entered with his crisp, white chef coat.

    I immediately recognized him. Slim and handsome with a pencil-thin mustache and goatee. The winner of an Iron Chef America competition in D.C., Chef Morou challenged Bobby Flay in Season 3.

    “Love the ambience. It’s so sophisticated and chic.”

    “Thank you, I got your email and looked over your site.”

    Chef Morou who grew up on the Ivory Coast cooks like he talks “American with an accent.”

    “So would love to build a new website for you to go with your contemporary design.”

    “Well, I know a thing or two about tech, I studied computer science in college. But lately I’ve been quite busy scouting a location for another restaurant in D.C. and launching my African spice lines.”

    “I understand that you’re very busy. That’s why you should hire us to promote your restaurant and feature your dishes.”

    “Yes, I have a big event tonight in Farrah Olivia that I have to plan.”

    “Super, Bien, et toi.”

    Although Morou was still contemplating, his response was more favorable and warm. I returned to my batmobile and rode through restaurant row

    The following week, I got a text message from Morou.

    “Thanks for visiting. My wife, Heather, says your service is nice but not needed.”

    “I know that marketing and social media is considered the low-hanging fruit, but it’s extremely valuable to increase sales.”

    “We have a lot of overhead. Our restaurant is gigantic and our ceilings are 24 feet high – you can fit a church in here. Our utility bill alone is sky high.”

    “I totally understand Chef, but what if we hosted an event. We would invite 20-30 people, you comp the meals and we in return will feature your cuisine all over social media.”

    The next day, I contacted Michael Galang, founder of Thursday Connect to see if he would help promote the event. Each person would pay $20 and we would split the proceeds. 

    Morou was born and raised on the Ivory Coast in West Africa and learned how to cook by watching his mother prepare feasts for their large family of 33 children. When he immigrated to America in 1988, he was hired as a dishwasher at Ristorante I Ricchi and was eventually promoted when a co-worker quit an hour before opening. Eventually, Morou was hired as the executive chef for Signature. Lobbyist Abramoff, who owned the restaurant, frequently provided free meals to sway lawmakers. Tom DeLay, Bob Ney and John Doolittle were his favorite guests

    But after the scandal hit the news, politicos no longer wanted to be seen at the restaurant, and the restaurant was doomed to join D.C. Eater’s list of Closures.

    On the morning of the event, there were only 10 RSVPs and a few more that indicated interest. But we had room at our table for 20, and we needed butts in every seat.

    It was then, that I gave my good friend Jackie a call. 

    “Hey Hon, we need a big favor. How quickly can you contact your friends to come to an Italian dinner at 7?”

    “I’ll go through our listserv with BookaLokal (marketplace for group dining experiences) and see what I can arrange.”

    “You helped me tremendously with the Chinese feast at Ming’s, if you could pull a monkey out of the hat, I would be indebted to you for life.”

    Two hours prior to the event, Michael and I waited anxiously hoping for a decent turnout. We paced up and down the restaurant along the purple walls, passing the colorful Andy Warhol-like portrait of his three-year-old daughter, Farrah.

    We nibbled on calamari and sipped on Heavy Sea Lager. Little by little people started to trickle in. By dinner time, over 25 guests had shown up. We had met and exceeded all expectations.

    We were able to photograph all the dishes and were able to garner all the content necessary to feature them on RUNINOut.

    Unfortunately, Suzannah couldn’t make it. She birthed the idea of visiting celebrity Chefs but she was now working on her own startup idea. I didn’t expect to keep someone that talented for very long.

    And Jackie, who came through in the clutch, did not have to pay a dime. All her food and beverages were comped by me. She had become my go-to miracle worker, and someone I would rely on whenever I got in a jam.  There would be many more jams and like a 9th inning relief pitcher, we hoped to escape them all.

    “What a smashing event. What’s next on your plate?” Michael asked.

    “Haven’t given it much thought. It’s football season, so perhaps a Florida Gators watch party?”

    “Yeah, sports is nice, but you can’t always rely on me to help out,” Jackie commented.

    “I could use ten of you, frankly.”

    “Then you should interact with the D.C. food bloggers. Chef Morou and other restauranteurs like him needs lots of coverage and publicity.”

    After dinner, there wasn’t much nightlife activity on Crystal Drive, so Jackie and I and a few others crossed Route 1 to 23rd St where there is a small, bustling enclave with a bundle of hookah shops and international eateries

    Right in the center stands Freddie’s Beach Bar, Northern Virginia’s longest-running gay bar.  The beach-themed, purple-lavish bar is adorned with rainbow flags and pink flamingos.  Freddie Lutz, who grew up down the hill, has owned the business for over 12 years. He is an affable man, a respected community leader, and has been working in the industry for over 35 years.

    He opened Café Italia 20 years ago and then decided to open up a Gay bar up the road.

    Before the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” many gay service members were in the closet. All it took was someone to even think you were gay to report you.  That’s why Freddie’s served as a safe refuge because it was advertised as a “straight-friendly” bar.  This gave everyone protection – they won’t have to worry about being seen because straight people went there too.

    When we walked in, we knew right away we were going to have fun.  The bar was filled with patrons knocking back pints of Devil’s Backbone. A Ballard from Doris Day was belting in the background.

    We found Freddie himself going table to table, mingling with customers like he was a council member.

    “Freddie’s is the most diverse bar that I know of. It bridges the gap between the straight and gay communities – that’s one of the most magical things about us,” he said.

    After chatting with Freddie and ordering our cocktails, I came upon two of my friends who had actually been my tenants for eight years.

    Dywayne and Ty were enjoying the music, ambience, and cuisine.  

    “We just came from dinner at Kora across the street. You guys need to come to one of our events,” I suggested. “How’s Wade Road?”

    “Everything in the apartment is fine. Will pencil that in on our calendar. By the way, you can come by Home Depot sometime and pick up your rent,” Ty said. “Unless you just want me to mail it to you.”

    “Home Depot is fine. I gotta buy some supplies anyway. Can I find you at the Customer Service Desk?”

    “Absolutely. You know which days I’m off. I can’t hide from you.”

    “Freddie’s is such a great place to get together. We need one of these in every city,” Dywayne said.

    “Couldn’t agree with you more. It’s such a great atmosphere.”

    Despite Freddie’s popularity, gay bars today are dwindling since many bars have accepted the LGBTQ culture and have adopted drag shows to their regular performances.  Freddie’s has been a huge building block for the community and fortunately will be here to stay.

    “Next time, you have a craving for pasta, visit Café Italia down the road. They’ve been a fixture here since 1976.”

    “Will do. And thanks for bridging the gap in our community.”

    “Thanks for coming over,” Freddie said. “See you at Freddie’s Follies on Saturdays.”

    Back then, Freddie’s and the D.C. sports bar Nellie’s were one of the few venues that featured drag brunch. Now it’s so popular that mainstream venues are serving up drag with their eggs benedict like it was just a cover band.

  • Freddie Gray

    Since I spent a few days in Baltimore for the Drupal Camp, I used my free time to tour and explore other restaurants nearby.

    Mount Vernon, a haven for millennials and college students, had recently turned into a corridor for crime. There have been several incidents where law-abiding citizens have been mugged or gunned down, leaving many Baltimoreans feeling vulnerable and insecure.

    And this was during a time when many retail businesses were still on a rebound after being roiled by weeks of tense protests after the April 19th death of Freddie Gray, a 25-year-old black man who was tossed around the back of a police van while he was shackled by his hands and feet. He died a few days later from a severe injury to his spine.

    The protests began on April 25th, 2015 as a peaceful demonstration outside the Camden Yards baseball park but eventually turned violent when demonstrators clashed with fans. Over the weekend, a plan at circulated on social meda

    The following Monday, April 27th, a plan had circulated on social media for a purge event — a reference to the 2013 dystopian film in which all crime is made legal for one night — to start at Mondawmin Mall in NW Baltimore and to proceed down Pennsylvania Ave towards downtown. The police got wind of this plan and stopped all buses and forced all riders to disembark. The students then gathered together and started pelting bottles and bricks at the police. Violence escalated and rioters started looting the Mondawmin Mall.  The violence continued for the next few days, resulting in 144 vehicles and 15 buildings being burned. Even after the curfew was lifted a week later, it took weeks before customers found it safe to return. 

    Sirenat, the owner of Thai Landing on N Charles St. was a 30-something, slim woman with a bright smile and positive attitude. She agreed to hire me to design their website. Many people were still scared to come out, but they were keen on online ordering. She also needed help in drumming up her business and attracting positive publicity.

    I didn’t know too many people from Baltimore, but I did know someone from D.C. who had spent a lot of time there. His family was in the restaurant business, and as a realtor, he was familiar with the lay of the land up north. As president of D.C. Asian Professionals and the founder of the Charm City Eats meetup group, Joe Nam Do was very well connected.  Just like John Tinpe from Burma, he was well regarded by the D.C. Mayor’s Office on Asian and Pacific Islander Affairs. 

    Joe wholeheartedly agreed it was time to patronize local businesses and to host events that showed our true support.

    “It is a Prix fixed menu of their top Thai dishes for $25 per person,” I said. “The owner wants good reviews on Google and Yelp and wants the dishes featured on RUNINOut.”

    “As long as she’s serving my favorites: pad thai, drunken noodles, and massaman curry, I’m down,” he said.

    “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Sirenat will be serving Tom Yum Goong, pineapple fried rice, grilled fish with lemongrass, and papaya salad.”

    “But we have a couple of vegetarians in our group.”

    “No worries, they have veggie chicken and duck and it’s hard to tell the difference.”

    “That sounds amazing – I love Thai food, and I have lots of faith in our community. Let’s support Thai Landing and Go Charm City!”

    Joe Nam Do and Lily enjoying the Pad Thai and guests

    “So, Joe, did Sirenat’s cooking live up to your expectations?”

    “I’ll say — fresh, flavorful and healthy.”

    “Thai Landing is my very first client in this city.” 

    “And hopefully many more. Baltimore may be rough around the edges. But she’s changing and growing every day.  You should consider moving here one day. They have a burgeoning Asian community.”

    * * *

  • 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.

  • Il Radicchio

    Il Radicchio

    Arlington is chock full of superior Sunday Brunch specials, so enticing that Washingtonians cross the river weekly to get their fill of boozy brunches. Just drive down Wilson Blvd. from Ballston to Rosslyn and there are brunch specials aplenty.

    Nestled between the intersection of Rosslyn and Courthouse, Il Radicchio has been serving oven-baked pizza and endless pasta specials since Clarendon was just a one-stoplight town.

    In the late 90’s Chef Roberto Donna opened Il Radicchio to add to his 12-restaurant empire that reigned the DMV restaurant scene. There were actually two other restaurants with the same name — one in Capitol Hill and one in Georgetown.

    It was a Donna concept similar to the well-acclaimed Galileo, yet more economical and efficient. While Carmine’s was known for authentic family-style dining with huge portions, Il Radicchio was known for its cozy, romantic ambiance serving smaller portions. 

    Judy Castiglia and I still had fond memories of last September’s meetup in Alba Osteria featuring authentic Northern Italian cuisine from Chef Donna’s Piedmont region. Now we wanted to see for ourselves if the current management kept the Donna gold standard alive.

    It had snowed a few inches the day before, a small accumulation coated the trees — everything was sparkling. Families and romantic couples were enjoying eloquent meals and light conversation while the soothing tunes of Frank Sinatra played softly in the background. We felt the warmth of the Italian brick oven and admired the lively walls covered with drawings of ducks, rabbits, and radicchios.

    I started with the fig arugula salad with pecans smothered in balsamic vinaigrette. “So, how’s your love life?”

    “Haw. how’s yours?”

    “Pizza and I are very happy together.”

    “Hee hee! Meat lovers or veggie?”

    “Neither just cheese.”

    Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m dating a guy named Don who I met from speed dating. Don’t think it will last, though.” Judy forked into her field greens tossed generously with grapes, walnuts, and goat cheese.

    “Why he’s not smart enough for you?”

    “No, he’s brilliant. But I don’t think he’s over his divorce from three years ago.”

    I was admiring my beautifully plated rosemary lamb with poached eggs, chimichurri, and potato hash (russets mixed with sweet potatoes)

    Judy was now absorbed in her bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin with perfectly poached eggs and crispy polenta cakes.

    Judy enjoying her bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin

    I remember wanting to try the polenta last October at Donna’s Alba Osteria. But they went fast and were gone just as quick as when they arrived.”

    “is that the dish with the baked octopus? They went like hotcakes — Chef (Amy) Brandwein is a rising star.”

    “Yes, their eyes looked so inviting. And Chef (Andrew) Holden is doing an immaculate job today.”

    “Couldn’t agree with you more. But what I really wanna know is why you think he’s not ready to commit.”

    Judy cut into her tenderloin the brown sugar bacon drizzling in juice. “He lacks compassion and kindness for what I’m looking for. I made him a lasagna for Valentine’s, and he didn’t even bring a card.” 

    “What a prick.”

    “Well he’s brought flowers before and done other nice stuff, so he knows how to be a gentleman.”

    “Then was he trying to make a dumb statement?”

    “I guess I’ll give it just a little more time to see.”

    “I’ll say. It’s time for the second round.”

    Rosibel Carranza, a young mother from El Salvador came over with more zesty dishes.

    I couldn’t keep my eyes off Judy’s black Angus burger with crispy prosciutto and brûléed goat cheese.

    Judy bit into her homemade pickle and then took a bite of the potato hash made with russet and sweet potatoes. 

    Judy was served by Rosibel.

    “He has an MBA from MIT Sloan School of Management and has a security clearance so he’s probably not dangerous.”

    “MBA – that’s a worthless degree nowadays. I can vouch for that.”

    “Wait, if you didn’t return to school to get your MBA, you wouldn’t have founded RUNINOut.”

    “And I wouldn’t have gone to Ethiopia and met all those inspiring leaders, either.”

    “And if it wasn’t for Jason “Foodgeek” I never would have known about RUNINOut and all your great-tasting events”

    “Well, bring Don to our next eatup so Foodgeek and I can grill him for you. We won’t let anything slip through the cracks.”

    “I’ve invited Don before but so far he has shown no interest. He’s not into meeting people and trying different cuisines. Guess he’s kinda dull.”

    “Well, then I would dump him for sure. He’s definitely not your type.”

    “Yeah, I wish I can find someone smart, handsome, fun, happy, compassionate, and calm. That would be quite a catch.”

    “Well, that’s a high standard. I can’t imagine too many suitors in this town would qualify.”

    “Well, then what’s your idea of the ideal woman?”

    “Someone who’s resourceful, understanding, able to communicate, innovative, and decisive.”

    Judy snickered and violently shook her head. “No wonder you’re still single.”

    “Well, right now I’m in love with my rosemary lamb chops.”

    “I thought you were seeing Christine?”

    “Oh no, we’re just friends. She’s an amazing woman tho, so she shouldn’t stay single for long.”

    “Say, I have this friend I want you to meet — she’s super skinny and photogenic. Perhaps I’ll invite her to your next event.”

    “Please do, but if she’s that pretty, then I’m probably not her type.”

    “Well, do you use any dating apps?”

    “I’ve tried Tinder and it’s just a lot of chatter and small talk purgatory.”

    “How ’bout Hinge?”

    “Yeah, I met the co-founders at DC Tech — they’re nice guys, but I wouldn’t recommend their app.”

    “Why not.”

    “Cuz I don’t think their algorithm referring friends of friends really works.”

    “Well you’ve got a lot of friends on Facebook — maybe you can play matchmaker.”

    I chewed on that thought for a second when Chef Holden appeared with a beautiful plate of yogurt cream parfait sprinkled magnificently with nectarines, lavender, and almond granola. 

    Chef Andrew Holden

    Judy was still working on her burger “Oh no, if I only just had room.”

    “Kudos to the Iron chef!” I lifted my dessert fork ready to pounce. “You’ve made Chef Donna proud.”

    Andrew snickered “Yeah if Roberto Donna would just pay his taxes.”

  • 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

  • Mmm Sumah’s

    In the summer of 1990, a half dozen U.S. Navy 2nd class midshipmen from different parts of the U.S. were excited to be spending their summer in the Mediterranean. They would be embarking aboard USS Peterson (DD 969) which was scheduled to visit Italy, Spain, France, and Israel. 

    Then suddenly civil war broke out in Liberia and Peterson was called upon to make a high-speed transit off the coast with Marines on board to evacuate American citizens trapped in the fighting. The six illustrious midshipmen were rerouted to Rota where we boarded a CH-46 Sea Knight and flew over West Africa. 

    MIDN Dave Trotman aboard CH-46 Sea Knight

    I remember flying over the savannas in Senegal, elephants grazing in the sparse grassland. Then over the dense mangrove forest in Guinea traversing the Great Scarcies River which borders Sierra Leone. Barely a soul was seen until we arrived in the capital city of Freetown. There we flew over dozens of shantytowns packed with makeshift shelters squeezed on the banks of rivers, on the face of steep mountains, and on the precipice of the sea. The rainy season was pending and due to overpopulation and deforestation, the risk of mudslides was great. I wished we could visit the tenements and the bustling street markets. But we were there due to war in Liberia and to support Operation Sharp Edge, so we headed to the Lungi Airport to await our SH-60 Seahawk to transport us to our ship. 

    Marines evacuate Americans from Liberia. (Courtesy of DoD)

    While we waited, we were tired and famished, so we purchased some smoked herring and fried plantains washed down with mango juice from an eager street food vendor. Though it was just a slice, the food was mouthwatering and fresh, and I craved for a little bit more. That was the last time I ate West African food.

    My contractor working on the boiler on my rental in Lebaum St told me about a Jamaican girl who just arrived in Virginia and was looking to move into the city.

    “Do you have a room?” He asked candidly.

    “Not here in Lebaum, but at my other property at Bruce Place, perhaps.”

    The next day, I drove 50 miles south on the congested 95 to the exurb of Fredericksburg to pick her up.

    “I’m just hanging out in the countryside working at Firehouse Subs, bored and wasting time.”

    “So what are your plans while in D.C.,” I asked Kimara.

    “Meet city peeps, git ah job, try sum criss cooking.”

    “Anything in particular?”

    “I’m feeling homesick, so I want to get some cassava and curry — something that reminds me of home. 

    I showed her RUNINOut and did a search for Jamaican food. She was impressed but then asked me to search for cassava. The nearest spot was a West African restaurant in Petworth. 

    She pointed to a spot on the map. “Sumah’s — I want you to take me there.”

    When Isata and Amara Sumah immigrated here from Sierra Leone 40 years ago, they had very little possessions and money. They worked hard every day at local restaurants and rented a $100-a-month apartment across the street from where Sumah’s stands today.

    Since 1993 when Isata and Amara opened up their West African restaurant, Sumah’s, they have been serving Jollof rice and West African stews daily. They typically start their day at 8 am and work until 10 pm then drive to their house in Southern Maryland, where their two college-aged daughters live.

    “We’ve worked hard so we could buy a house and put our two daughters through college,” said Amara.

    Sumah’s is a modest seven-table restaurant with neon green walls adorned with hand-carved wood beaded masks.

    When Kimara and I walked in, we could immediately sense the aroma of African spices and the fragrant smell of nuts. We followed the savory scent to the kitchen where we found Amara smiling while gently stirring a large pot of cassava that would be quickly consumed by his loyal lunchtime clientele.

    Amara Sumah

    Both Amara and Isata were very pleasant and cordial. They believed in bestowing authentic customer service and took great joy in introducing Washingtonians to West African cuisine, steeped in history and geography.

    “This is my new friend Kimara from Jamaica,” I said. “She adores West African food.”

    “Of course, I grew up with it. Jamaican cuisine is a fusion of African, Creole and Latin American,” Kimara replied. “Where do you think jerk sauce comes from?”

    “Well, we treat all first timers to a free sampler of our delectable cuisine,” Isata said as she dished up a plate of jollof rice with seven other sauces along with egusi and peanut butter stew.

    “That’s very kind of you. I’ve been craving for cassava-leaf stew for the past two months since I arrived in the US,” Kimara said delightfully. “A large bowl please and plenty of peanut butter gravy — my favorite.”

    “Of course,” Isata stated. “We always serve our customers a healthy plate. Whatever you can’t eat, take it home and enjoy it there.”

    We sat down, admiring the African wall art. The canvas displaying ethnic African women and the handmade pieces were eye-catching and fascinating. 

    Another customer next to us was deeply engrossed in his stew. This goat with jollof is so spicy and tender,” he said. “I’ve eaten everything on this menu, and I come here at least twice a week.”

    One patron from Liberia told me that he came here in 1990, and there were no West African restaurants or stores in D.C. Thankfully now there is a handful and he visits Bukom in Adams Morgan on weekends for dancing and drinks.

    “Hey Amara, when did you arrive in the US?” I asked.

    “Nov 28, 1978 — with nothing but a dollar to my name.”

    “May 28, 1990 — was the day I set foot in Freetown,” I mentioned. “A hidden gem, but sadly with thousands of impoverished people, overcrowded and in need.”

    “Have you been back to Africa since?”

    “No just Egypt and Ethiopia, but I would like to travel to West Africa and enjoy her mountains and rainforests and tour national parks to witness wildlife.”

    It didn’t take long for our steamy hot food to come out along with soothing ginger juice on ice.

    “Made with Love from Freetown,” Isata stated. “Our ingredients are imported directly from West Africa.”

    “Mmm,” Kimara exclaimed “My Mother would be amazed.” Kimara didn’t wait long to start digging in.

    “Easy now, this isn’t a cassava eating contest,” I said with a smirk as I dished some of my Jollof onto her plate. “Just as this scrumptious meal was slow-cooked, we have to consume it slowly.”

    Cassava-leaf stew

    Kimara took another bite and smiled warmly. “I should order a gallon of this egusi and peanut butter stew.”

    “You got it, and I’ll add a bowl of krain-krain and some fufu,” Isata said. 

    “We love our customers,” Amara said. “Some drive hundreds of miles just for a warm bowl of Jollof. They are all considered family.”

    Kimara reached over and gave the Sumahs a warm hug. “You guys are so incredibly sweet and charming. This brings back wonderful memories from home. #HugsnKisses”

    “Thank you soooo much Mama & Papa Sumah,” I said as I joined them in the hug. “And please send my regards to your whole family.”

    Kimara enjoyed the cassava

    After being satiated I asked Kimara where she would like to go next.  

    “To the mall to visit the museums. Then I need to fine ah job.”

    “What kind of work?”

    “Waitress, but eventually attend Bartending school.”

    “Do you enjoy bartending?”

    “It was my first job at the age of 16, right on the corner of Windward Road in Kingston.”

    “Any particular restaurants?”

    “Caribbean of course. But really I can work anywhere. Beach bars, sports bars, I’m flexible baby love.”