Exploring the Atlas District
My husband and I and our friends Gail and Dave were recently among the throng that poured in for an evening on newly revitalized H Street, NE. Several lively blocks long (edged by streets that still feel a little sketchy), the corridor offers night-life choices that are varied and eclectic, with lots of stylish eateries and cozy gastro-pubs. You walk along, past the art deco Atlas Theatre sign and glowing windows, taking in the streetscape as the night moves in, feeling like you’re in a place that’s really coming to life.
Sticky Rice, a sushi restaurant that has got to be the only one of its kind to feature not only sashimi and tempura, but tater tots, was a fun first stop. The sushi rolls have sassy names (“shiitake happens,” “happy hippy”) and the ambiance tilts toward funky rather than one with an Asian sensibility. Of course, we had tots, too. How can you not tot?
Gail had gotten us tickets to a musical performance (there are plenty of places to hear live music on H Street), and we had time to kill before the doors opened. We stepped briefly inside Granville Moore’s where I instantly agreed to Gail’s request that we come back another night soon for Belgian beers and mussels in that softly-lit historical barroom. Many appealing bars and restaurants line the walk, beguiling passersby with hip, warm interiors and unique menus.
The lure of a half-hour at a beer-barrel table under strands of colored lights led us to the Bavarian-themed Biergarten Haus. We hoisted giant steins of coppery dopplebocks before joining the crowded floor for Bill Callahan's haunting prairie-themed songs at the Rock and Roll Hotel.
In spite of its name, the Hotel is not a place to stay for the night, though there are themed party rooms for rent upstairs to spend hours reveling with friends. The main floor is a concert space and the one we attended was a tightly-packed standing room kind of scene best enjoyed by taller folks than I.
The nearby all-night pie shop was the perfect spot for post-concert recovery.
(I propose a new rule: every neighborhood must have its own all-night pie shop.)
Richmond: Art on the Edge
My friend Lynn and I recently visited her daughter, who’s a student at VCU. I had been to Richmond before, but the scenes and impressions were all lost to memory and I looked forward to re-discovering the hidden angles and edges of Virginia’s capital city.
Maddie is an art major and was keen to show us not only the galleries near her house in Jackson Ward (J Ward, to those in the know), but the objets d’art nearest to her heart: the neighborhood’s abandoned buildings and empty lots. We called it the “Maddie Tour” and knew we were getting a different look at the city than most visitors.
Maddie’s street is typical for J Ward: red brick townhouses bordered by wrought iron fences. This part of Richmond is second only to New Orleans in its use of decorative cast iron. That, and the 600 homes listed on the National Registry make J Ward great strolling grounds for architecture lovers. The entire district is a National Historic Landmark.
Jackson Ward is like a perfect half moon: exactly in between waxing and waning. We saw lots of boarded up storefronts, but also artsy shops like Quirk (also exhibiting artworks) and hip coffee joints like Lift.
Art galleries have tucked in, enjoying the lower rents of a half-moon part of town. Older businesses, like Eugene’s Barbershop, run by Eugene’s grandchildren, are still getting by, but other spots, like all 22 floors of the Central National Bank building, are only filled with ghosts and crumbling walls. Fearless Maddie led us right to the old revolving door and in we went! I felt like we were walking in an artwork titled “What Was.”
We had lunch inside the honey-colored walls of Mama J’s, a restaurant specializing in comfort food. And you do feel comforted from the moment you walk in hungry until you leave with a belly-full of greens, catfish, and macaroni-&-cheese.
In stylish Carytown later on, popcorn and a $1.99 movie at the lavish landmark of Richmond’s former glory, The Byrd Theatre, was the perfect finish to our day.
Richmond is best known for its history as the Capital of the Confederacy, but art-lovers take note: the city is a haven for artists and rich with design. Even the Police Station looks artsy.
Visit the AVAM “Toot Suite”
If you’ve been meaning to visit the very-cool American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore, now’s the time to go. Summertime Thursday evening admissions are free from 5 to 9, followed by movies shown under the stars on a 30-foot outdoor screen.
If you have (or if you are) someone who doesn’t mind a late drive home, this is a bit of heaven: An outdoor movie watched from a nice hillside after taking in a playful and expansive display of works by self-taught artists. You can bring a picnic along or buy popcorn and hotdogs on site.
The movies this summer celebrate the theme of the museum’s biggest current exhibit, "What Makes Us Smile?" co-curated by founder Rebecca Hoffberger, artist Gary Panter, and Simpson’s creator Matt Groening. Comedic films from “Airplane!” to “Some Like it Hot” are scheduled for screening. Click here for the line-up.
The museum itself is a joy. After checking out the whimsical sculpture garden and once you’ve admired Nadya Volicer's “Smile” welcome mat made from recycled toothbrushes, follow a hallway festooned with the boxes of your most beloved childhood board games, dangling model planes and helicopters to the three-floor gallery. It's the kind of place that features a massive collection of Pez dispensers and a Whoopee Cushion bench.
The day I visited, I lingered longest in a space staged as a bedroom featuring a bed with a headboard of beads and beetle wings made into an intricate and spot-on portrait of MAD Magazine's Alfred E. Neuman by artist Patty Kuzbida.
A glass case filled to brimming with vintage toys arranged in a scene both static and busy stood nearby, including a parade of every action figurine from under your brother’s childhood bed snaking around a double-decker London bus and toy cars of all makes and models.
Steps away, a dog made from guitar parts, picks, and sequins posed under an archway of coconut heads; an enormous and elaborate candy-dotted gingerbread house filled a corner of the room; a blue Electrolux refitted into a space rocket dangled from the ceiling; and this quote from Bill Cosby was painted on the wall:
“Human beings are the only creatures on earth that allow their children to come back home.”
If yours are back home, take them to see a free outdoor movie and the coolest art around at the AVAM in Baltimore.
America’s first experiment with city planning: Greenbelt, MD
Greenbelt, Maryland in Prince George’s County has a certain “town that time forgot” quality about it. There’s a village square with a café whose back room is frequently filled with townspeople toe-tapping to that evening’s jamming, grey-haired performer and a never-renovated classic big-screen movie theatre with its original Art Deco marquee. The times I’ve visited, hoping for some small-town charm, I really only found quirky characters and odd-looking folks wandering around the almost-empty patio that fronts the café and the theatre. Also a vintage-looking dry cleaners, a co-op market, and a fairly decent Chinese restaurant. There’s something kind of faded about the place.
So why, in 1997, sixty years after its construction, was Greenbelt designated a National Historic Landmark? Knowing about its history adds a little color back into the sun-bleached signs.
Things were not going so well here in the U.S. in 1935 and President Roosevelt had some bold ideas to reinvigorate the post-agricultural job market. Land was purchased by the government as part of the New Deal and a town was planned which would give out-of-work laborers the job of building it and would offer places to live for the workers leaving farming for industry. Greenbelt is the first town ever “built from scratch” to be self-sufficient and walkable---a model suburban garden community.
The dwellings were rental apartments or semi-detached houses, equipped with modern appliances and thoughtfully designed to include things like cross ventilation, picture molding, and even specially-made-to-scale furniture (more jobs for more craftsmen!) to perfectly fit the modest spaces. You can tour a historic house, furnished and staged just as it would have been for original tenants in 1937 or click here to watch a video.
Driving through town, I could almost imagine the sparkle and promise of this place with its crescent-shaped walkways and connecting footpaths meant to separate pedestrian traffic from vehicular traffic. The apartment facades with their original glass block windows are, like the square, a bit dingy after time, but stand as good examples of Art Deco design.
Come for the history and the architecture, but stay for a movie on the 40' screen and a cold beer afterward at the New Deal Cafe. You can toast to FDR and his bold idea.
A Chilly Easton Weekend
You may not picture yourself in a shore town until summer. And you may think of the Bay Bridge as a conveyor of idling cars and brake lights. That’s why chilly spring is a great time to visit Maryland’s Eastern Shore. You can zip across the bridge at the speed limit and have the place all to yourself.
My husband’s from the Eastern Shore and so is his whole family “all the way back,” so I’ve spent a lot of time in the clustered towns there. St. Michaels is better known as a tourist destination with its shop-lined streets and docks for your sailboat. But Easton is my favorite. Easton is the less-flashy sister---the one with good bones who doesn’t need to be the center of attention.
Here’s my recipe to a perfect spring overnight:
Pinpoint your weekend by checking out the calendar at the Avalon Theatre for your favorite show. The Avalon is an intimate Art Deco performance space downtown and Roseanne Cash, Marshall Crenshaw, and Randy Newman are a few upcoming acts that caught my middle-aged eye. The breathtaking “Live at the Met in HD” series is also broadcast there. Donizetti's "Lucia di Lammermoor" is next for screening.
Take a minute to download and print the self-guided walking tour (click here) that points out interesting architecture and historically significant spots in town.
Book a room at the snug Bishop’s House B&B or try the just-renovated, posh Tidewater Inn. You won’t need your car once you’ve gotten settled in.
On Saturday morning you can prowl for antiques and shop at the cute boutiques on Goldsborough Road and Washington Street. I especially love Lizzy Dee. Even though I am too short for the chic and casual clothing there, earrings always fit and so do purses and printed scarves. Stop into wooden-floored Crackerjacks for a toy-laden nostalgia trip and leave with a yoyo or 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle.
Make sure to get onion rings and a shake at the soda fountain at Hill’s Drugstore to reinforce the Mayberry feel of the place. (Believe me, there’s a lunch counter; just keep walking straight past the shelves stocked with aspirin bottles and ice packs…)
The attractive Art Academy closes at 3 on Saturdays, so go after lunch and amble through. Afterwards, you can use your handy downloaded walking tour map to become the Easton expert that you’ve always wanted to be or rent bikes for the trails around town. Another great feature of the Eastern Shore: No hills!
Have dinner before the show at the artsy Out of the Fire where you can tuck into a plate of crispy polenta with wild mushroom ragout.
Head home right after Sunday breakfast. Like many small towns, Easton closes up tight to fill up its 38 churches.
Maybe I’ll move to Easton and open a rollicking Sunday coffee shop and feed muffins to all the visitors who find nothing but locked doors elsewhere in town; or maybe a tattoo parlor to get people ready for the beach come summertime…
Art Appreciation
Friends were staying in Baltimore for the weekend and we decided to meet for a look around The Walters Museum in the Mount Vernon Cultural District. The Walters has an exceptional collection of art objects: Paleolithic axe heads, mummies of women and cats, and child-sized suits of armor.
Roman sculpture in a sun-filled, marble-floored courtyard, Impressionist and Renaissance paintings, vases from Ancient Greece, Faberge eggs, Tiffany vases, ossuaries, and sarcophagi.
Some rooms are so crowded with ornately framed artworks, that there’s a Victorian salon feel to the place. It freed me from the need to approach each individual piece with academic intent, absorbing and retaining information from the accompanying information plaque. Instead, I stood happily immersed in the visual cacophony.
The building (actually three conjoined and each with its own architectural style) is a delight to walk through. The center, original, museum has a room you can’t miss. The name alone will make you want to grab your keys and drive north: The Chamber of Wonders.
My friend Gail describes visiting the Walters to be like rambling around in a curio cabinet and the Chamber of Wonders is the distillation of that feeling. Inside are the wonders of Nature on display in shadow boxes and glass-fronted bureaus and hung on every inch of wall space.
Cheetah skins and giant mounted butterflies; the head of a moose; shelves of seashells; enormous beetles pinned in a case; the full body of an alligator above the doorway that reads, “Through Such Variety is Nature Beautiful.”
The Egyptian Room has an entirely different feel. The space is hushed, the lighting muted, the artifacts in spare groupings.
It’s a room to whisper in. You’d have (barely) heard me say, “Look, a cat mummy,” before I tiptoed over to a set of mounted carved tablets etched and painted in 2000 BC (and still looking good!)
And when you think you can’t possibly be any more amazed, walk past the statue of George Washington atop the obelisk just outside the Charles Street exit and cross the street to The Peabody Institute.
You can walk right in to the famous library there. “The Peabody Stack Room,” according to the Institute's website, “contains five tiers of ornamental cast-iron balconies, which rise dramatically to the skylight 61 feet above the floor.” It could be an adjunct to the Chamber of Wonders: a work of art in its own right.
Old Town Alexandria
In honor of our trip to Old Town Alexandria, I snipped the tags from the wide-legged summer weight pants I’d snagged on my last visit there. This past winter a quick dip into to the Gap Factory Outlet on King Street netted me some staples – shorts and shirts for my kids – plus these comfy pants at a mere $9 – and, best of all, I’d forgotten about them until they fell out of my closet a few weeks ago. There’s nothing better than buying something for a song because it’s past season, then tucking it away for the winter and rediscovering it just as you’re wringing your hands in front of the closet because you have nothing new to wear.
Dani and I got an early start the day we explored Old Town. We timed our departure to occur just after the morning rush, when Rock Creek Parkway is relatively quiet, and the cool water rushing by makes you feel like you’re already on a vacation of sorts, because how could this much natural splendor be found in the midst of so much urban sprawl?
We parked by the Torpedo Factory Art Center and the weather was so glorious that we took a quick stroll along the waterfront before heading inside. Constructed in 1918 to manufacture torpedoes, the building served that purpose until just after World War II. For several years it served as government storage space for items varying from munitions to dinosaur bones.
In 1974, after the city of Alexandria purchased the property from the U.S. government, it opened as a space for artists and has remained an important creative venue with various tweaks, additions, and renovations ever since.
This massive waterfront structure now houses 82 studios showcasing artists working in every possible medium. In our all-too-brief survey of the studios, we came upon sculpture in stone, glass, wire, and various combinations of materials, as well as paintings, photographs, jewelry, clothing, works in enamel and exquisitely crafted ceramics. If you’re lucky, the creative types behind all the artwork will be working in their studios. We chatted first with Pat Monk, who makes enormous sculptures of stainless steel that he welds in the back of his studio space. My favorite was his whimsical “Dragon’s Tail,” the result of a collaboration with a friend who creates stained glass.
A short walk away we found Cindy Packard Richmond, painting boats in her airy, light-filled space overlooking the water.
I was particularly taken with her still life paintings – pears, and asparagus painted in luscious but true–to-life colors – while Dani pined for a painting of goldfish shimmering like jewels.
We would have poked around longer on the upper floors, but we had an 11:30 reservation to experience the Lickety Split Lounge Lunch at Restaurant Eve. I was sold the minute I’d heard the name, and I tried my best to inject it into every sentence that day, as in, “Dani, I think I’ll just pop into the restroom here before we go to the Lickey Split Lounge lunch, okay?”
Essentially an express dining option offered only in the restaurant’s bar area, it provides an easy-on-the-wallet approach to sample the culinary wonders of this venerable Old Town eatery. For $13.50, diners can choose two items from a fairly broad selection that includes soups, salads, sandwiches and desserts. We loved it. And yes, beets were involved.
After lunch I started to feel, as I nearly always do on these excursions, that we’d barely scratched the surface of Old Town. Luckily, our next stop was nearly next door to the restaurant. Diva, an upscale resale boutique on South Pitt St., houses two floors of secondhand clothing in good condition, plus a great selection of costume jewelry.
I walked out with a flouncy, feminine skirt, while Dani scored a great pink sweater. Next I whisked Dani through the stylish lobby of the Hotel Monaco in King Street as we hustled back to the car.
We drove a few blocks up King Street and parked in front of Misha, on S. Patrick Street.
Misha is a no-frills coffee lover’s café, sporting at least two ancient refrigerators, a plethora of community notices, and a wide communal table in one room, where a man sat playing solitaire with the smallest deck of playing cards imaginable.
We ordered iced coffees and sweetened them with simple syrup, a nice touch that puts you on notice that you’re in serious coffee drinker territory.
Just a half block from Misha’s, back on King Street, is The Hour, one of the funkiest, most appealingly laid-out specialty shops around. If you’re a “Mad Men” devotee, The Hour cries out for a visit. Open for about a year, this shop is a place whose windows I’d peered into longingly on earlier Old Town trips, but I’d never before walked inside.
Two floors of cocktail glasses, martini shakers, colorful serving trays (including unusual Couroc trays of black lacquer – a personal favorite of mine) and serving dishes offer all you need to throw a rocking retro party.
All items are helpfully labeled as either vintage or new, so you don’t have to scrutinize a piece and screw up the courage to ask if it’s “authentic.”
I didn’t buy anything, only because by the time I’d climbed the stairs to the second floor I was in sensory overload mode, feeling a desperate urge to buy almost everything. Or at the very least, to get myself a stiff drink. I vowed to return without a caffeine buzz to peruse the wares in a calmer state. Perhaps Don Draper could join me and offer up suggestions…
We ended our Old Town excursion with a reminder of why we don’t make the trip more often: a traffic snarl just past National Airport that had us crawling along the GW Parkway for several miles.
This development didn’t ruin our day by any means, but it did spark a conversation about the many ways that traffic woes in the DC area lead people to think twice, perhaps, before striking out to explore. While we were in Alexandria, we had to dash back to the car every hour or so to feed the meter. (There is free parking for 2 hours directly across from the Torpedo Factory, but I stupidly forgot that option). We could have easily taken the Metro to Old Town and availed ourselves of the free trolley that runs frequently between the Metro station and the base of King Street at the waterfront.
In fact, my husband and I enjoyed an overnight escape in Old Town last winter, sans car. We packed an overnight bag, walked to the Metro, and were riding the Trolley to the Hotel Monaco less than an hour later. It was easy, and liberating. When I return for the martini glasses and olive forks at The Hour, I just may take the Metro.
Frederick, No Fuddy-Duddy
Gail kept saying, “We’ve got to go to Frederick,” and every single time, I pictured a sleepy place with a block or two of dusty shop fronts, some worn out rocking chairs, and a stray one-eared cat. Unable to shake an image of mothballs and old-time charm, I wondered why Gail, who was usually so stylish, kept tossing the idea of Frederick out as a great afternoon destination.
“Frederick” sat on our list of places to visit for months---an excursion we didn’t take, over and over. Other places enticed us and Frederick (yawn) waited for another day….
Finally, I yielded to Gail and we set aside a morning to make the drive. Only 33 miles northwest of Silver Spring, Frederick is an easy drive up 270 with a piece of Route 15 for the last leg. At least, at 10:00 in the morning it seemed easy. Plus, Gail was driving. All I had to do was sing along to the songs on the radio and in under an hour, we were there.
As we entered the historic downtown section of the city, I realized that Frederick was not asleep at all. Block after block of the funky, the quirky, the vintage, the zany. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and check it all out.
We had two must-do items on our list. We could not leave Frederick without visiting “Great Stuff by Paul” and having lunch at Volt.
A friend of Gail’s had recommended Paul’s and we dutifully found the building and popped in to have a quick look. Here’s the thing: a quick look is just not possible. You’ll want hours to peruse Paul’s great stuff that is collected in impressive quantities by the man himself. Paul travels all over the world looking for interesting pieces to ship back to his shop. Doors from India in great turquoise rows along the back wall are so appealing that you begin to realize that you really cannot live happily without one.
Brown and green glazed bowls from Indonesia, wooden sugar molds from Mexico, refinished trunks, Asian vases, wicker chairs, stained glass, large wooden scoops, barrelfuls of narrow, well-used baguette trays. Borrow your friend’s truck and go.
We had the pleasure of meeting Paul who described his recent acquisition of rows of art deco theatre seats in Rajasthan as they were being cast aside by someone emptying a building. Those seats, hand-fitted with new leather cushions are crossing the ocean right now destined for the coolest new restaurant or maybe a spot in your kitchen.
It was painful to leave, but we had a reservation for 12:30 lunch at the sleek restaurant of Bryan Voltaggio, perhaps best known for his competitive stint on Top Chef. Housed in an architecturally stunning 8,000 square foot mansion, Volt is booked for dinner months in advance, enjoying well-deserved fame due to its talented chef and warm, professional staff.
The interior is contemporary in contrast to the Victorian façade. The food is exquisite and, indeed, I felt that I was one of the guest diners on Top Chef as we were presented with the courses of our meal.
We realized that we’d need another trip to do justice to the 75 block historic district, as well as the surrounding places to explore for more adventurous outdoor pursuits.
Do not wait for months (years!) like I did, letting the name “Frederick” conjure up some grizzly old uncle nodding off to sleep. Go to this hip, snazzy town to shop, eat and stroll.
Baltimore is Best
I knew I should have checked President Obama’s schedule before heading to Baltimore with Dani on a recent Friday. We’d planned to explore the whimsical American Visionary Art Museum and grab lunch afterward. As we neared the Inner Harbor exit off of 95, however, it was clear that something was going on – traffic was backed up all the way along the exit ramp. Being a native Baltimorean (or something akin to a native, having grown up 20 miles north of downtown), I bailed out early on Russell Street and avoided the traffic jam – for the time being.
Since we were further west than I’d expected to be, I talked Dani into a quick stop at Lexington Market, home of Faidley’s Seafood, and arguably the world’s best crabcake.
This is a delicacy I made the mistake of introducing to my father-in-law many years ago, and now I dutifully arrange for a four-pack to be shipped to him every holiday season. The one year I forgot, he called and we exchanged pleasantries for nearly 15 minutes before he arrived at the true purpose of his call: “um, I was wondering what happened to the crabcakes?” I haven’t let him down since.
We scored a parking spot right by a market entrance. Ducking inside, I managed to whisper to Dani that Lexington Market is not for the faint of heart, just seconds before a homeless man stopped us to chat. We’d arrived about an hour before the lunchtime rush, and by the looks of things the vast, inviting space that always smells like something you’d want to be eating was being used by several denizens of the streets to keep their toes warm.
Prowling 14th Street
On a sparkling weekday, a sign hanging in Ms. Pixie’s bright pink collectibles shop confirms what we’d already determined: “Thursdays are the best day – always new inventory.” That, plus easy parking, no reservations needed for lunch, and hospitable salespeople combined to make us very happy that we’d chosen a Thursday to prowl 14th Street between Q and U Streets.
This visit started with an actual task: months earlier I’d made my first real foray into the 14th Street corridor, on a busy Saturday afternoon that coincided with the neighborhood’s annual Sidewalk Sale. I bought some great picture frames from Framesmith DC (1352 Q Street, NW), and was promised rock-bottom prices on matting and glass at a later date. So I set off on a Thursday morning with some black and white photos in hand and my pal Dani in tow. Dani hadn’t been to the area in ages, so she was eager to see what all the fuss is about.
We attended to business at Framesmith, (reviews here) where the helpful owner told me my framed photos would be ready in about 10 days. We left the framing shop and peered in the windows of ACKC chocolate shop (1529 C 14th St NW), agreeing to stop back for further exploration and possible purchases before the day was done.
Heading south on 14th, we ducked into Timothy Paul Bedding and Home (1529A 14th St NW) and immediately decided that we wanted to redecorate our homes, top to bottom, with fabrics furnished by this unique supplier.
Specializing in bed linens, Timothy Paul also stocks comforters in soft cotton and cashmere, with prices to fit nearly any budget.
Some items are vintage pieces picked up by the owners on Southeast Asia shopping trips to purchase carpets for their other store down the street, and some of the bedding is made in the U.S.A. All of it is special, and easy to covet.
We tore ourselves away from the lovely wares at Timothy Paul and sought refuge in Reincarnations, at the corner of 14th and Rhode Island Avenue. This eclectic store boasts two floors of furnishings, some of them outlandish and some absolutely stunning.
Curvaceous chairs with chocolaty fabric just scream to be sat upon, and the martini-glass light fixture above the register made me want to install a wet bar in my basement, just to find a home for that little chandelier.
Reincarnations had brought out the wild thing in us, inspiring a new found urge to get modern and crazy.
What better fix for this type of mood than Miss Pixie’s? But our stomachs were rumbling, so it was time to head north on 14th to Café St. Ex (1847 14th St NW).
We sat outside in the shade and shared a flavorful chicken salad and a beet salad promoted with “grapefruit two ways” as part of the package – who could resist? The beet salad turned out to consist of watercress, lots of soft, plump beets, slices of grapefruit and, yes, the second way – tiny sugared slivers of grapefruit zest, just to perk things up a bit.
Gratefully nourished, we resumed our admittedly haphazard tour of the blocks of 14th between Q and U streets. Miss Pixie’s was filled with Formica-topped tables, metal cabinets, retro side tables and chairs, and Mexican metal art in the form of farm animals – roosters, pigs and a sizable white goat – placed strategically throughout. By my third metal pig I was really beginning to think my yard needed nothing more than a small menagerie of hardy, weather-resistant metal creatures to foster a back-to-nature look.
Our final destination took us back to where we began, around the corner from the framing shop. Artfully Chocolate and Kingsbury Confection (aka ACKC) chocolate shop has been in existence since late 2007, and it draws a serious neighborhood following for its cocoa bar offering specialty drinks, as well as its ample chocolate display.
Prices are not cheap, but it seems somehow correct for an indulgence like lavender pistachio dark chocolate to cost nearly $2.00 for a bite-size piece. We made our selections carefully, choosing one decadent bit of chocolate for each family member. As soon as we got back to the car we agreed there was a risk of our own chocolate melting, so we sampled ours then and there, with no fanfare. Yum. What a relief that we were now four blocks away and more or less unable to return for further indulgences.
I started the car and we marveled at how much we’d seen in just a few short blocks, but lamented that we never got to walk along U Street. I brightened at the prospect of returning to pick up my completed framing project, knowing more shops and cafes beckoned just around the corner.
Update: We went back to 14th Street a few weeks later to pick up my framed photos (which turned out great, by the way). On this visit we stumbled upon the Mid-City Café, an ultra-cool coffee shop above Miss Pixie’s that hums with the quiet buzz of an office with two dozen cubicles, only everyone there is in their own little chair or stool, pecking away at laptops.
Serious coffee lovers should not miss this spot – watching them make our coffee was like observing performance art at its finest.
And we finally made it to U Street, where we tucked into the world-famous half-smokes at Ben’s Chili Bowl, (1213 U St NW) and felt that all was right with the world.
