People asked me why I wanted to go to the nation’s capital for the big birthday bash, and I had a quick reply. I am alive at this moment in history, it’s a one-time thing, and the right person is in the White House for a yuge celebration like this. My father flew the flag every day and raised a bunch of jingos. I’m proud to be one, and proud of this country, despite its many flaws.
The traveling sisters reunited at the home of one of them, and the following day, we all checked into the city for three days. We originally had plans at The Hamilton, a historic property behind the Willard, perhaps the most famous hotel in the city. I love that corner of DC. It sits at the end of Pennsylvania Ave where the grounds of the White House begin. To me, it is the center of DC. Unfortunately, exactly a week before check-in day, the hotel called to say we no longer had a reservation, along with half the other hotel guests. A plumbing issue necessitated the evacuation of a wing of rooms and an immediate renovation. I felt sorrier for the hotel than I did for myself.
The Hamilton restaurant inside the hotel is a favorite. I was smitten with the energy from the first lunch I had there, and even though the food was not brilliant, it was very good.
I realized that the cancellation of the room would touch off a frenzy to find other rooms, and it would also touch off a personal crisis for four sisters with competing interests agreeing on a new place.
We settled on a Marriott with zero character and charm, whose only defining characteristic was the most woefully understaffed valet I have ever encountered in all my travels. There was almost never a human at the desk. The only thing to recommend it was its proximity to the "chutes," as I called them, but that is not a little thing. The “chutes” were the four (yes, only four) breaks in the endless barricades that surrounded the fairgrounds, AKA The National Mall. Anyone who has ever been to this part of the capital knows the walking is interminable, so it was critical to know exactly where these openings were, or the unthinkable (doubling back) would happen.
But that first day, I arrived earlier than the others, so I rented a car and went to visit old haunts. I was thrilled to see how beautiful it all looked. I think the capital city is the most beautiful of all, and it had become unsightly for quite a while preceding this.
I arrived from Baltimore to DC about lunch time, and headed over to one of my favorite places to eat. Matchbox Pizza was a place I discovered when we lived there after Katrina. It had just arrived on the dining scene and was getting a lot of buzz. Back then, we went to the original in Chinatown, but since then, there have been many locations. I went to the one in Rockville.
I was struck by how dated the place looked, but the food remained good. I got one of the signature menu items, a cute appetizer called 3-6-9, meaning choose the number of great little burger sliders with a gigantic pile of thin onion rings sitting in a mound between them. They are thick little burgers with a slice of cheese, a dollop of ketchup, and a pickle or two. These were always and still are great. Too bad the onion rings were stale and cold. Those used to be irresistible.
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The waitress suggested I get an app, and I did, but it was too much food. I really wanted a pepperoni pizza, which is one of my favorites out there. It is always covered in high-quality pepperoni that “cups,” meaning it curls around the perimeter to form a cup of grease, bluntly put. I had no idea that pizzas are actually judged by cupping. I thought I was weird to appreciate it.
The appetizer I chose instead of the pizza was an artichoke dip, which came with pizza crusts for dipping. The only reason I left the pizza was that I didn’t want to have a pizza smelling up the brand new rental car. The artichoke dip was one of the best I’ve had, filled with artichoke and a medley of cheeses. It was really rich.
By late afternoon, my host sister called and told me not to make any plans for dinner because she had something special planned. She sounded mischievous. When the last two of us arrived at the house, she was ready to drive us somewhere for dinner, but she was secretive. It turned out to be a Costco hot dog, which has become a thing on the radio show. (See the full history of that and the report on the dog up now on nomenu.com.)
The following day, we arrived in the city and went to The Hamilton for lunch. I just love the look of this place and the feel. It was packed as usual, but we got a spot by the window in a booth. I ordered two apps for the table, which just happened to be pasta. One was a mac and cheese, and the other a short rib rigatoni. One of us ordered a salad, and the others split a burger and salad. I got the crab cake, because this is the land of the crab cake.
The mac and cheese was made with radiatorre pasta, and it was covered in a fantastically delicious and creamy sauce.
But this was not as good as the short rib rigatoni, which was insanely flavorful. The pasta here was too al dente for me, but the sauce, which had large chunks of Roma tomatoes, was just outstanding.
The crab cake came with a small ramekin of tartar sauce and another of coleslaw. There were fries with this that were not housecut but they were a good version of the frozen class of fries. Crispy. The star on this plate was a typical Baltimore crab cake, which is rather simple at the core: good quality jumbo lumps of crab held together by magic, shaped into a large hill, and passed under a broiler. Perfection. The coleslaw was chopped finely with a light mayo dressing, and the tartar sauce was loaded with “stuff.” It was a nice plate of food.
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The Caesar salad across from me was the ultimate example of ordinary, but the salad that came with the burger was interesting. It had blackberries and a lot of crunch to it. There was some sort of granola running through it, surprising with a crunch in every bite. It was a good tangy dressing, and it all came together in a delicious bite.
The burger was also just pretty basic. The Hamilton is part of a large group of restaurants, which includes Clyde’s, probably the best known of the lot. It’s a Clyde’s burger, and they sell a lot of them. But this menu has a lot of interesting things on it, and I didn’t want to waste stomach space on a burger.
We spent the remainder of the day at the Great American State Fair, which took up an enormous amount of space, consisting of buildings that were constructed for the event and filled with exhibits celebrating America's excellence in various fields.
Those were set up at intervals horizontally, and the perimeter was lined on either end of these buildings with more removable structures that seemed permanent. Inside these structures were food of all kinds, and individual “booths” or rooms that were comfortably air-conditioned and filled with cool stuff from each state. These ran from terrific to boring, depending on the effort put in by the state. Most put in a lot of effort. Our Louisiana booth was quite nice, with the usual cliche items like Mardi Gras paraphernalia. I talked to some of the workers who told me they came for two weeks and were mostly from Baton Rouge. I met a girl from Covington. Everyone was very nice, as expected. But the evening passed so quickly as I visited each state that it was 10 pm in no time, and I was told it was over by a police car, which I worried might run over me as I lay pretty helpless in the grass.
The four of us met up at the chute entrance, where we went in, and then drove around, looking at the monuments and buildings decorated with red, white, and blue lighting, featuring banners of the founding fathers and "America 250."
Lights and even movies of Washington crossing the Delaware were projected onto the Washington Monument.
By the time we got to the hotel, it was 12:30 am. That would be our earliest night.
The following day, we went to The Willard Hotel for a high tea. It was set in Peacock Alley, which is a central hallway sort of like our plantation homes from that era. The hotel was decked out in long draping flags with tables lining the walls.
When we sat, our waiter greeted us by pouring a full glass of Veuve Clicquot for each of us. We were surprised by this and later learned that it changed our tea price from $90pp to $110. That should have been mentioned. Too many assumptions can be made when a waiter does this. I wondered if that was house policy or just a smart waiter. As it turned out, that detail is mentioned on the menu, but I’m not the only one to gloss over menus.
For tea, I chose the Willard Signature blend, which was black tea with Bergamot notes and orange peel, as well as rose petals. It was delicious. Most of the others got basics like Earl Grey, etc.
Two towers of tea sandwiches, scones, and desserts arrived, and it was a really generous assortment. There were the requisite chicken salad and cucumber sandwiches, but also Yellowfin Tuna and Ratatouille Tarts and focaccia with Serrano Ham sandwiches. And a Crab Salad sandwich with Ginger Apple Slaw. This is crab land after all. There was a Banana Cinnamon Scone and a plain Vanilla Scone served with the usual accompaniments of Lemon Curd, Devonshire Cream, Raspberry, and Apricot Jams. This was a total delight. High Tea is not something I think about much, but when I have it, I am thrilled. This sentiment was elevated by the happy energy in the air.
When we left the hotel, the flyovers were still going on. I am absolutely not equipped to catch this spectacle on camera, and despite my frequent attempts, I got just a little. I dropped the group at the State Fair and did the show. As soon as I was done, I was summoned to get my sister-in-law. The other two stayed at the fair, and we two drove around looking for The Minetta Tavern, which a friend mentioned had set up an outpost in DC. We never did find the restaurant, but we did find a corner of the city that reminded me of the Bywater. It’s called Union Market, and I was mesmerized by the sights. The other two sisters showed up at midnight.
The next day was July 4th, and the parade was cancelled because of the heat. I ducked out to pick up some pastries at Tatte, which was great, and part of a chain of sixty locations in the mid-Atlantic and New England. (See the full story with pics on nomenu.com.)
I brought back a ham and cheese croissant, a walnut brownie, a nut cup, a chocolate chip cookie, a pistachio cookie, a Jerusalem bagel, and a Boureka, as well as a cherry and cheese Danish and a Pain au Chocolat. All of this was terrific, though I prefer the Boureka at Alon Shaya’s Safta’s Table. And I don’t understand the Jerusalem bagel, though what could be wrong with anything so coated in sesame seeds?
We got into the State Fair when it opened. The others had been in line for at least an hour when I joined them. After five hours, I was ready to collapse from the heat, and I have no idea how we made it back to the hotel. We left the other two at the fair to take the Metro, and we went back to shower and take the car. I had no idea how we were able to get there so easily, but the GPS turned out to be right.
We paid nearly $500 for a ticket to the Intercontinental Wharf for their rooftop BBQ. There are no pictures for this because it was such a shock. There were a handful of tables and chairs for at least a hundred people. I couldn’t believe this showing. The food was on a floor below the rooftop, necessitating a trek for anything wanted. I have never encountered anything so badly represented in all my experience.
My sisters were below us on a pier over the Potomac. They were crammed in like sardines, and when it poured, it poured on them. But at least they only paid $69 for hamburgers, hot dogs, and a band. And lots and lots of people.
We all left after midnight in the car and arrived back at the hotel at 3 am after a wild ride through the district, ending in a blockage at every attempt. What is normally an 8-minute drive to go less than two miles took us 2 ½ hours.
The following morning, we checked out of the hotel and met my sister’s family at The Old Ebbitt Grill. We sat in a small room for 10 people. It was perfect. The place is exactly as old as our Tujague’s, and like Tujague's has certainly kept up with the times. They had a caviar service and tinned fish, and espresso martinis! I had to get some tinned fish.
That was certainly the most interesting thing on the menu. I also got Fish and Chips, mainly because our excellent waiter Paolo told me it was Hake, and I had never had it.
There were two Shrimp and Grits on the table,
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as well as two French Toasts and a burger. The Shrimp and Grits did not look as good as ours, but the two sisters who are expats loved them. The French Toasts looked nice but pretty basic,
and the burger was a Clyde’s burger, since this restaurant is part of the Clyde’s Group. (Like our Dickie Brennan’s group.)
My tinned fish was fun. It came beautifully presented on a metal tray with toasted ciabatta, pickled onions, Maldon Sea Salt and pickled Piquillo Peppers.
The olive oil with tomato and basil bits inside the can was very tasty, and a little bite of all the elements on the plate was good. It was $20 for this Azores product Tenorio. Worth every penny. There was no Fishwife on the Conservas menu.
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For dinner that last meal, the host ordered Mission BBQ, which is a very large chain in 20 states. This was excellent barbecue, and it got me thinking about good barbecue vs. “craft” barbecue, and I have decided that I don’t need “craft” barbecue anymore. My last check at Gonzo was $129, and I think all these fixins and two meats came to far less than that. It has started me on a quest to come to terms with these thoughts, which have been the subject of at least two Food Show editions since I returned.
There was plenty of food at The Great State Fair, and the sisters who had it said it was very good, and very varied: burgers, chicken, BBQ, and Chinese food. I didn’t have any of it, so obsessed was I with seeing all the state exhibits.
This was not a food trip, but I did have some great food. And I have great memories of this once-in-a-lifetime event.