DC Dispatch

I arrived at Reagan National Airport smack dab in the middle of the morning rush.

I arrived at Reagan National Airport smack dab in the middle of the morning rush, commuters clad in rain boots and slickers. I, always bracing for cold no matter the fact that Boston experienced a false spring earlier in the week, only had woolen winter accessories to protect me. I rushed along with them, sweating beneath my layers and dreaming of a coffee. By the start of the work day, I scurried into my sister’s little pink apartment, and thus, girls’ weekend began.

DC’s a funny little city, and that’s not even because of The Times We’re Living In Through. Our nation’s capital and I go way back. In college every other month, my boyfriend and I would visit each other, eating our way through New York and DC. We were spoiled by the restaurants, cafes, bakeries, and bistros that filled them. The DC that I remember from back then was punctuated by house parties and show openings and afternoons wasted away on the quad. What excited me about this visit was the freedom one gets when they graduate and decide to start exploring their city For Real, which is exactly what my sister, Maura, afforded me this past weekend. With less than 72 hours to kill, we packed it all in.

Our first stop was DuPont Coffee Collective, an employee-owned workhorse of a cafe and bakery swarmed with patrons each time we passed, even in the rain. We spent a lot of time visiting the places Maura already loves and places she’s been dying to try (as well as racking up a list of places to go next time). This was the latter, and she delighted in excitement of finally trying that place you pass all time. We all have them.

When Maura’s lunch hour hit, the storm passed, and we ventured out for Compliments Only. So so so so good! I especially loved the Crunchy Boi (an amped up turkey and cheese) and neon Duke’s jar on the wall above a candy cigarette machine.

A block over we spotted Spot of Tea, and I’m happy to report that it is well worth the hype. Black Sesame Matcha for me (with an extra shot—a rec from the staunch matcha devotees online) and the Blue Jasmine for Maura.

We did a lot of walking and talking this trip, which is what we usually do when Maura works from home, each around our own neighborhood with the face of the other on the screen of our phone. I felt like I was on the set of a movie I rewatch often with Maura pointing out all the spots she frequents throughout the week—the pharmacy, the coffee shop, the Safeway around the corner. She was especially excited to take me to Gemini, the natural wine shop in DuPont. We snagged a bottle to drink before dinner.

The one place I wanted to revisit was The Dabney. Matt and I had been twice before—on one of my first trips to DC and during the last before he graduated. I wanted to see if it still lived up to its glory in my memories and wanted to give my sister a taste of what type of place Does It for me when it comes to eating out. Our meal and service was top notch. No complaints. Standouts include the chicken & dumplings, which the kitchen lovingly separated into two portions for us, cornbread, and Baked Virginia. We stayed in Blagden Alley for nightcap number one—a cocktail popup with Tiger Fork and Calico—and ended the night on the patio of Le Diplomate because that’s what you must do when it reaches 50° in February.

We walked from Dolcezza to the shops downtown with drinks in hand. By the time we picked up a sandwich from Call Your Mother after a strict one-hour trip to Nordstrom Rack on Saturday morning, we had close to seven thousand steps. The next logical step was to rot in bed for a little—Bridget was on her way from the airport, and there was even more walking to do in the afternoon.

We caught up, the three of us, over chicken pitas and hummus from Yellow, the Lebanese fast casual spot in Georgetown that was well worth the line. We did more strolling and bopping in and out of shops before having a proper get-ready-together in Maura’s bedroom like we were all still in high school. All day we’d been preparing to meet up with another friend from high school at “Bar Bestie” in Union Market, but it wasn’t until we were on the way there that we realized Maura had been calling it by the wrong name all along. Her mistake was fitting though—there’s no one I’d rather wait for a table with as the day cools off than with my besties.

Bar Betsie, sister to another great spot, JaneJane, was divine. Great music, cozy booths, and excellent cocktails made us all forget about the impending blizzard. My favorite sips of the night were the Monkey Business (a banana-cold-brew inspired rye old fashioned), the Teaña Colda (Thai-tea based tropical drink), and their whipped honey take on a bee’s knees. Classic.