oh let the rain fall down and wash this world away

Okay—this blog entry has literally taken me since Monday to finish. And it is so, so, so not worth it. Sorry folks, lacking any and all inspiration. So read about my food. Awesome.
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‘Twas a weekend of eating.

Ridiculous.

At stages of CRUMBLE rehearsals I was living on the 7-Eleven carrot, cheese and ranch dip snack packets (which I have to admit I kind of love--they got me through DALI as well) and gummy sour lifesavers, so the availability of time now to sit down for real meals is kind of overwhelming me.

Friday I went to Skewers for the first time for a script meeting and catch-up time with Jackie. It was really quite good, and I was pleased with the foul mudammas. We got the kind that tops a bowl of normal hummus in case Jackie was not a fan. Warm and garlicky goodness. We also got falafel to start, which we totally realized we didn’t need once the entrée we were splitting arrived. We’d had some confusion explaining to the waitress that we were sharing the veggie kabob, though she eventually assured us—while insistent that it was a single skewer—that it was large enough for two. The thing comes out with like, an entire head of broccoli and cauliflower on one skewer, and some more reasonably-sized squash, onions and tomatoes on another. Which we guessed maybe had been split for us. Though if it had been one full skewer the thing would have extended over into our neighbor’s table. Which would have been ugly. Because the place gets crowded. Quickly. And there is a general air of not-so-much caring about personal space boundaries. Which very much reminded me of being in the middle east.

We then headed over to Church Street to see TRANSLATIONS, which was lovely and beautiful. C broke my heart a little bit. Actually, everyone broke my heart a little bit, but with C I wanted to be like “Hey, yeah, I’ll go to the island with you! I like the idea of living on an island!”

I guess it would depend on what the island looked like. And what kind of food they had.

Saturday I went to see HISTORY BOYS which was very good and very well done, and disappointing to me only in the fact that my energy level for matinees is ridiculously and embarrassingly low. I shouldn’t see them, but if it’s the only chance I have, I’ll do it. As I was sitting down I saw someone on the other side of the theater waving in my direction. I couldn’t tell who it was so I assumed they were waving to the people next to me and I pointedly ignored them.

Sorry Hanvnah.

Closer up, I was much friendlier. I then proceeded to invite myself along for all remaining plans in Hanvnah’s day. This included:
A stroll to Dupont Circle
Drinks outdoors at Trios with several of her real-people friends
A walk to Chinatown
Feasting on Chinese Food at Szcehuan House with other of her real-people friends
A walk back to Dupont Circle
Another brief stint at Trios

It was a great, great, unexpected afternoon-evening. The Chinese meal was actually a part of a two year odyssey that Hanvnah and her friend James have taken on—in an attempt to try every Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. Which would be nearly impossible in NY but is totally do-able here in dc. Their original intention was to go to Li-Ho, one of the final restaurants on their list but when we went inside their was a woman sitting at the one large round table and shouting out things about fried rice in her high-on-something stupor. When they started to seat us there, at the only table large enough for five, she shouted louder. We headed in the direction of a four-top instead but as we sat down I was suddenly really nervous. “Do we have to stay here?”

I totally imposed on their plans and then got all needy and difficult when we went through with them.

I can sort of explain my reaction. It wasn’t just that it was a dive, I’m okay with dives. But the menu at a quick glance looked like a Yum’s—none of the special dishes you can usually find only in Chinatown. Plus my elbows stuck to the table.

So we headed down the street to Szechuan House, where they’d had Dim Sum but not a full meal, and had a really delicious Chinese feast: scallops in a white sauce that were scrumptious; braised tofu and vegetables made spicy by request; veggie dumplings; meat dumplings; spicy, crispy beef; and a noodle dish with straw mushrooms. I obviously avoided the meat dishes but gorged myself on everything else. So good. And the service was great. I haven’t eaten in Chinatown in years—I think once with Ben and Wally—and I thought, really, I should do this more often, while there still IS a Chinatown.

Sunday I went to Artomatic with HPMelon, which was actually pretty cool and as far as I recall a great improvement quality-wise over the only other one I’d been to—the first year it happened. Then C and I ate at Bar Pilar to commemorate one of the first dates we had after our first-first date one year ago Sunday. There we had slightly over-priced but delicious and quite authentic tapas: white anchovy crostini, seared scallops and risotto, grilled calamari, tortilla espana, wild mushrooms and leeks, and roasted beets and goat cheese. The calamari was a little daunting—good chunks of tentacles and of course, grilled not fried, and as C sliced into his a chalky black substance pooled in his plate. They’d missed an ink sac. He remained undeterred, but that kind of put me off the calamari.

Afterwards we headed next door to Black Cat to see Bishop Allen play. They were really fabulous--tight, funny, hip, together--but the opening act right before them was regrettably cringe-worthy. Wall of sound type stuff.

But I am really liking Bishop Allen now. And chinatown. And scallops. And artomatic with HP. And ful. And Hanvnah. And C.