Where do you want to fly?

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For the first time, the Hirshhorn is incorporating food into an exhibit.

When Rirkrit Tiravanija was a master’s student at the Art Institute of Chicago, he’d visit the Asian art wing. Hundreds of artifacts—“usually bowls and potteries, porcelines, and buddhas”—stood on display behind glass, he says. This struck Tiravanija, a 57-year-old Thai visual artist, as strange. “These are things we live with,” he says. “And [art institutions] were looking at them as aesthetic objects.”

Beautiful as they may have been, for Tiravanija, separating them from their original purpose removed an essential dimension. “I wanna take them out of the case and then reanimate [those objects],” Tiravanija says, “to cook and put food back into them.”

That experience inspired his new interactive exhibit, “Rirkrit Tiravanija: (who’s afraid of red, yellow, and green),” which runs at the Hirshhorn through July 24. For the first time, the Hirshhorn is incorporating food into an exhibit. Visitors are invited to participate in reshaping the exhibit space by eating one of three curries (red, yellow, or green) served onsite and, basically, hanging out. Tiravanija says curry plays a central role in daily life in Thailand, where it’s consumed ubiquitously. He makes his own grandmother’s recipe regularly. Despite the allure, however, the exhibit isn’t really about the curry. It’s about experiencing a familiar ritual in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people.

“I just want life to be the art,” he says. “I want us to pay attention to the things around the object, which is actually the relationship we have together—around the art.”

The surrounding exhibition walls are smeared with imagery from recent protests across the world, from those demanding racial justice in the US to protestors demanding government reform in Thailand. “We may think it’s violent,” Triavanija says. “But the reality was that people were trying to do things to change things, and there were people against that.” Those struggles are the product of the endless dialogues that happened amongst normal people in the domestic settings—scenes similar to what Triavanija seeks to replicate with his exhibit.

While the real point of the exhibit whisks around in the abstract, the logistics of the experience are in the curry. The Hirshhorn and Triavanija enlisted DC’s Beau Thai to deliver and serve more than 60 liters of curry each day of the exhibit. According to Triavanija, Beau Thai stuck out amongst the Beltway’s curry slingers because it creates its curries from scratch.

That process begins on Monday each week, when folks at Beau Thai blend base ingredients—some which require treks out to Asian food suppliers in Northern Virginia—into a paste. Throughout the week, that homemade paste is used to kick-start the day’s curry, with a blend of coconut milk and produce, depending on the color. Beau Thai owner Ralph Brabham says that if you visit the Hirshhorn between Thursdays and Sundays while the exhibit’s on, you can try some yourself. Come early, though: “We don’t anticipate having any leftovers,” Brabham says.

If, on arrival, all three flavors of curry are still available, consider the opinion of one of its cooks. Fern Thongpunchung, whose aunt is an owner of Beau Thai, regularly prepares the curries. She prefers green—it’s a little sweeter and the most ubiquitous throughout Thailand—but those looking for a punch might opt for red, even if its bite is muted. “Usually, the way you’d cook it, you wouldn’t put in coconut milk, so it’d be the hottest one for sure,” Thongpunchung says. “But it’s still hot anyway. Red chilli is always hot.”

It’s not Tiravanija’s grandmother’s recipe, but if his exhibit stands for anything, it’s that it shouldn’t have to be.

“Rirkrit Tiravanija: (who’s afraid of red, yellow, and green)” on view through July 24; Curry served Thursday through Sunday, 11:45 AM to 1:30 PM or until supplies last, every week during the run of the exhibition; Free; hirshhorn.si.edu

Will Peischel

Editorial Fellow

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Where do you want to fly?

Washingtonian won the General Excellence award for its circulation category at the 34th-annual National City and Regional Magazine Awards ceremony in Minneapolis Monday night. It’s Washingtonian’s fourth General Excellence award. Judges said the publication evinces the DC area’s “unique character” and “gives a consistent sense that it is deeply plugged into the city it serves through strong service-oriented pieces and compelling storytelling.”

CRMA’s complete list of winners and finalists is available here.

Reached by phone, Washingtonian Editor Michael Schaffer says, “We’re lucky to have a magazine with such a terrific staff—and to do our work in a city where readers demand excellence.” The magazine submitted three 2018 print issues for consideration: April (cover story: Marisa Kashino’s history of 14th Street in the 50 years since riots followed Martin Luther King Jr.’s death); May (cover story: Benjamin Wofford on Jeff Bezos’s DC life); and December (Jessica Sidman and Anna Spiegel on the fall of Mike Isabella).

Schaffer says he’s particularly proud that the award recognizes that it takes a team of people to publish this magazine: “We make a website every day and a magazine every month, and every single person is a part of it.”

CRMA makes General Excellence awards based on a publication’s circulation. California’s Sonoma Magazine won in the under-30,000 category, Dallas’ D Magazine won in the 30,000-60,000 category, and Washingtonian won in the 60,000-plus category.

Washingtonian‘s weddings magazine also won the Ancillary: Weddings category. “We’re constantly inspired by the talent and the work of the vendors in our local weddings community, by the stories of the couples we feature, and the feedback from our readers, whose planning we aim to make easier,” says Amy Moeller, Washingtonian Weddings’ editor-in-chief.

Andrew Beaujon Washingtonian
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Where do you want to fly?

Photo courtesy of the filmmaker.

During 148 games between 1932 and 1934, Moe Berg played catcher for the Washington Senators. He was also a talented spy for the US government. In a new documentary, The Spy Behind Home Plate, director Aviva Kempner traces Berg’s departure from baseball in 1942 and follows him into the ranks of the OSS, the precursor to the modern CIA, during World War II. His work took the form of espionage missions to Zurich and Italy, providing key intelligence to leaders of the Manhattan Project. Berg’s assignments, which involved assessing top European physicists, reflected the deep anxieties within the OSS about the Nazi capability to develop a nuclear weapon. As Kempner describes, “The kind of research Moe did was able to put the nail in the coffin of what the Germans knew.”

It’s not hard to imagine how the catcher first attracted the attention of intelligence officials; Berg was not a typical ballplayer. He earned degrees in linguistics at Princeton and law at Columbia, and his reputation in the ballpark, which was modest, was dwarfed by his fame on popular radio, where he frequently competed on quiz shows. He was said to keep a tuxedo in his locker. In a Buttiegieg-esque detail that rankled his teammates, Berg was known to speak seven languages. (“Yeah,” said Senators outfielder Dave Harris, “and he can’t hit in any of them.”)

The documentary plumbs a few mysteries, too. The most persistent involves when, exactly, Berg began his clandestine work. The Spy Behind Home Plate suggests he might have been recruited as early as his time with the Senators. In 1934, during Berg’s last season in Washington, a delegation of American all-stars was selected to play in Japan. With little explanation, and despite suffering an anemic batting average of .185, Berg was plucked from obscurity and added to the trip. He returned with his travel bag stuffed with rare camera footage of downtown Tokyo. Whether he was a civilian or a spy, the reels nevertheless found their way into the hands of American intelligence agencies.

After the war, Berg became something of a recluse, settling in New Jersey and visiting the occasional ballpark until his death in 1972. For Kempner, who lives in Washington, the DC screening of The Spy Behind Home Plate offers a kind of homecoming for Berg. In an interview edited and condensed for clarity, Kempner spoke with Washingtonian about the documentary, which debuts May 24 at the Avalon Theater.

What first drew you to Moe Berg?

My M.O. is to do films about under-known Jewish heroes. This one combined my love of baseball and my living in Washington since 1973—especially since he played for the Senators. I just was thrilled to be able to combine those, and also draw a character who both with his brawn and his wits was able to spy. I also seem to have a propensity for films with “Bergs” in the title—Hank Greenberg, Molly Greenberg, and now Moe Berg.

Going into the project, I knew less about the OSS, the precursor to the CIA. They combined both women and men, and Ivy League and safecracker, people who fought in Spain, children of immigrants who knew languages, and did some incredible spying to be able to help the Allied effort.

But the biggest issue looming over us is nuclear weapons. Senator [Edward] Markey is in the film, and he was with me [this week] at the screening, who pointed out we would not be here today if Hitler had people who could create the atom bomb. And today we have to worry about North Korea, we have to worry about the Middle East, maybe Russia. This issue of nuclear [weapons] still looms very much over here.

What kind of character was Berg?

He probably was the brainiest man who ever played baseball—a total linguist. He may have spoken up to ten languages. From an early age, to be able to play on a Christian team, he changed his name, [using] less-ethnic pseudonym Runt Wolfe. Being the child of immigrants, he knew languages, he traveled every winter. He knew what was happening in Europe, loved reading newspapers. He [frequently asked] his fellow players whether Mussolini would prevail or not. Just very well informed.

How did Berg fall into spying?

Well, it’s a little up in the air. Japan in ’34, Berg went to play on the all-star team, and he secretly took footage of the skyline of Tokyo that might have been used to help the Doolittle raid. I never found out if in fact he was a spy [at that point], but I think he has all the makings of doing it.

After baseball, he did some work for Nelson Rockefeller in Latin America to see if there was any German influence. For OSS, he would have trained here. All OSS people trained in the Washington area—people like Marlene Dietrich, Julia Child, Arthur Goldberg, Arthur Schlesinger, Ralph Bunch, and William Colby.

He was specially chosen to do nuclear espionage. At the time, we were really worried. The Manhattan Project was going on, and FDR hadn’t even told Truman. And Berg came back with essential information that really allowed us to continue with the Manhattan Project. Moe was essentially the nuclear spy.

His life after the OSS is also somewhat of a mystery. You think there’s evidence his spying continued?

Yes. There was some talk he did some work for Golda Meir, but we could never find out exactly what it was. And then there as some work he did after [after the war], in terms of getting scientists away from the clutches of the Soviet Union.

He settled in Newark. When anyone would ask him what he did, he would put a finger to his mouth. I think it was hard to adjust back to normal life. He didn’t want to practice law—he went to law school to satisfy his father, who never saw one game when he was young, or the 15 years in the major leagues. But he never lost his love of baseball.

Will Washingtonians recognize any landmarks in the film?

Yes. Moe was a very important player here, when the Senators were in the World Series. He also attended embassy parties, where he got his chops not only being charming but also trying to figure out what other countries were up to during [the war]. Certainly he got his OSS training here, got his OSS orders here. The Congressional Country Club was once a training place for the OSS, and I believe Camp David was. He liked to frequent the Mayflower.

Ian Fleming of 007 fame came [to Washington] and helped Bill Donovan. They worked in the house that later Katharine Graham owned. Wild Bill Donovan owned that house. You can’t make it up.

Was the film any more rewarding because you’re a Nationals fan?

Actually, I’m going to be at [Nats] stadium Friday night to show excerpts of the film. I have Walter Johnson in the film. He was the greatest pitcher of his era—he would pitch the whole game, no one was like him. We’re hoping to celebrate that fact in spite of the team today. Right now, our pitching is killing us.

Benjamin Wofford

Staff Writer

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Where do you want to fly?

Ken Cuccinelli in 2013. (AP Photo/Cliff Owen)

President Trump plans to nominate Ken Cuccinelli to “coordinate the administration’s immigration policies,” the New York Times reports. Cuccinelli is no stranger to people who watch cable news, but he’s also a known quantity in this region, where he served as a state senator and Virginia’s attorney general and ran unsuccessfully for governor. He managed to make a lot of headlines in these roles even if his initiatives didn’t always work out. Here are just a few of the Cooch’s greatest hits.

That time he covered a naked breast on the Virginia state seal

In 2010 Cuccinelli gave his staff lapel pins that added a breastplate to the wardrobe of the Roman goddess Virtus. His spokesperson told a reporter his boss noted her “more modest attire“; he reportedly told his staff that the new outfit made Virtus “a little more virtuous.” “You can only conclude that he enjoys being the center of pointless controversy,” Larry Sabato said at the time.

That time he wanted to make speaking Spanish in the workplace a fireable offense

As a state senator, Cuccinelli introduced a proposal that would have sheltered employers who fired employees for not speaking English. “This is the most mean-spirited piece of legislation I have seen in my 30 years down here,” state Senator Richard L. Saslaw told the Washington Post in 2008. Cuccinelli explained to the Post that he was merely looking out for employers who had to pay higher unemployment taxes after firing people for the language they spoke.

That time he advised public colleges they could discriminate against gays

Cuccinelli sent a letter to Virginia public colleges and universities in March 2010 that claimed Virginia law didn’t allow the terms “sexual orientation” or “gender identity” in their nondiscrimination policies. “How does this protect anyone?” a University of Virginia official told a Daily Progress reporter. “It only hurts people.” Virginia’s Republican governor overrode Cuccinelli after the letter became an object of national derision. “There can’t be any question I was right,” Cuccinelli told Washingtonian.

That time he suggested Virginia make a Beatles tune its state song

The Cooch inserted a footnote into the tortured history of Virginia’s state song when, as a state senator, he proposed “Taxman” should become the state song because Virginians “feel like all they ever get from Richmond is more taxes.”

That time he said gay sex is “intrinsically wrong” and breaks “natural law”

Cuccinelli said that while he had no problem with homosexuality, gay sex represented “behavior that is not healthy to an individual and in aggregate is not healthy to society.”

That time he “investigated” a University of Virginia scientist

When Cuccinelli was a student at the University of Virginia, he chugged a tumbler of bourbon and had shirts made up that read “yabba grabba brew.” As attorney general, he was decidedly less epic. Exhibit A: his “one-man war on the theory of man-made global warming,” as the New York Times put it, which took the form of hounding a former U.Va academic. The campaign was a total failure, and it cost the public school hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees. Cuccinelli told Washingtonian his pursuit of the scientist had nothing to do with climate change: “If they studied hammers, we would make the same sorts of inquiries,” he said.

Andrew Beaujon Washingtonian
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Himitsu and Hot Lola’s will donate 100% of proceeds to reproductive rights organizations.

Hot Lola’s spicy fried chicken sandwich with a chicken fat-griddled bun, homemade slaw, and pickles. Photograph courtesy of Hot Lola’s

Nationwide protests against strict abortion laws like he one recently passed in Alabama are planned for Tuesday, and a DC restaurant is finding its own way to speak out. Himitsu owners Kevin Tien and Carlie Steiner are organizing a “pro-choice pop-up” on the patio of their popular Petworth restaurant, serving fried chicken sandwiches from Tien’s Ballston restaurant, Hot Lola’s. They’ll donate 100 percent of proceeds to three local and national organizations that support reproductive care and rights. The fundraiser runs today through Thursday from 5:30 to 8:30 PM, or whenever the food runs out.

“There are two aways you can run a business,” says Steiner. “You can stay as inactive as possible so you don’t do anything that could jeopardize your business. Or you can realize you have a responsibility and a voice to use for the betterment of society. After the announcement of the abortion ban, it’s a very scary time to be a woman. To act and put money behind it is one of the most important things you can do right now.”

Tien and Steiner says they consulted their staff members about which organizations to assist, including the National Network of Abortion Funds, which has reportedly raised over $504,000 since Alabama passed the nation’s strictest abortion law last week. The Yellowhammer Fund, which helps those seeking care at Alabama’s three clinics, and Access Reproductive Care in Southeast DC are also beneficiaries.

The duo aren’t strangers to culinary advocacy. Steiner recently introduced a bar and wine program at Himitsu that wholly supports female producers and owners, while Tien’s mission at Hot Lola’s is what he calls “chicken for a cause.” The fast-casual sandwich shop debuted in the Quarter Market food hall with a four percent “wellness provision” surcharge to help provide health care and fair wages for restaurant staff—a trend Tien hopes to spread in the industry. “Hot Lola’s was always meant to help in the moment and do whatever we can,” says Tien.

Himitsu hosted a Planned Parenthood fundraiser in the past and got a few nasty Yelp reviews as a result. But it’s not enough to stop the team from slinging sandwiches for a cause.

“Its been a big conversation with a lot of restaurants lately. We all want to help but we still have a business to mange, and it’s a fine line to draw,” says Tien. “At this point for me, I would rather be very upfront about who we are as a restaurant, as a staff, our core values, and what we support. At the end of the day, we’ll support equal rights, rights to your body, and human rights in general.”

The pop-up’s fried chicken sandwiches will go for $10 alongside $2 sodas. Additionally, Himitsu will run a soft-shell crab sandwich special in the dining room with sales benefitting the organizations.

Anna Spiegel

Food Editor

Anna Spiegel covers the dining and drinking scene in her native DC. Prior to joining Washingtonian in 2010, she attended the French Culinary Institute and Columbia University’s MFA program in New York, and held various cooking and writing positions in NYC and in St. John, US Virgin Islands.

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The new spot will have the same menu as its three-month-old counterpart in Shaw

Roy Boys fried chicken. Photo courtesy Roys Boys.

Three months after opening in Shaw, fried chicken and oyster restaurant Roy Boys is already plotting its expansion. A second location is set to open in the former Justin’s Cafe space in Navy Yard by the end of the summer.

The menu will be the same at both branches with traditional or Nashville hot fried chicken, Southern-style snacks, chopped salads, raw and barbecued oysters, and ice cream tacos. The new 60-seat restaurant will also have a full bar with cocktails and all-day Bloody Marys.

“It got so popular so fast that it just made sense for us,” co-owner Scott Parker says of the quick expansion. That said, there are no grand plans to roll a bunch more restaurants. “We’re not envisioning doing 20 Roy Boys… Maybe later we’ll add more locations, but it’s certainly not something we’re thinking about right now.”

Roys Boys. 1025 First St., SE. 

Jessica Sidman

Food Editor

Jessica Sidman covers the people and trends behind D.C.’s food and drink scene. Before joining Washingtonian in July 2016, she was Food Editor and Young & Hungry columnist at Washington City Paper. She is a Colorado native and University of Pennsylvania grad.

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Screenshot courtesy of ABC.

On Monday night, as bodies fill Stoney’s to watch the second episode of The Bachelorette, where our three Washington suitors are still in the running for our Helen of Troy, Hannah B., I am across town watching from the comfort of my home. What my apartment lacks in pools of rosé and the frenzied roars of crowds, it more than makes up for in peace and quiet. How am I supposed to get a Pulitzer if I can’t hear the TV?

As the opening music crescendoes, we’re greeted this weekend with an opening montage of Hannah B. leaping between the columns of a gazebo like she’s Liesel in The Sound of Music except, you know, she’s not in love with a Nazi.

And then—a quick cut to the men, a mass of virility and masculinity crammed like sculpted sardines in the Bachelor mansion, and yes, I can confirm JPJ’s luscious waterfall of hair looks even better under the California sunlight. And then there’s Luke S., looking like a mischievous James Dean in a fitted black T-shirt. Oh, Lucas, just like Dean, will you be gone from our screens too soon?

It’s time to get down to business. Out comes the date card, the names are read, and Luke S. and JPJ are both off on the first group date! It’s Lanham vs. DC, y’all, the Battle of the Beltway.

The men arrive at a theater, where they’re told they’ll all have to perform a talent, pageant-style, and then out come the Speedos! Yes, Speedos! Let’s hope it’s not too cold in there. Luke S., ever a respectable man, claims he’s never worn a Speedo which, come on, my dude, I think we all know is probably not true.

The Bachelors are ushered onto the stage in a series of fuzzy velvet robes (which JPJ looks a little too comfortable in) and then the music pumps, the lights start to pulse and then yes, there’s Luke S. strutting the catwalk in his Speedo, baring it all–his heart, his soul, his pale inner thighs–in the quest for Hannah B’s heart. It’s like we’re at the Westminster dog show, a series of judges inspecting these fine breeds, but minus the groomed fur and anxious canines—it’s just seas and seas of taut male flesh.

And then next comes JPJ, stopping at the end of the runway like he’s closing Paris Fashion Week, delivering a deadly one-two, flipping a wave of blonde hair over his face as he snaps the waistband of his Speedo. “I want him to be bold,” says Hannah B. in a voiceover as JPJ rotates his pelvis like the ghost of Elvis. Bold he is.

After Speedo-thon, it’s time for the talent section, and oh yes, God is good because JPJ is on a freaking unicycle. He wheels it down the aisle to Hannah as she raises her arms over her head, screaming like she’s front row at a Def Leppard concert. It turns out Luke S.’s talent is playing the trumpet, but is it a talent if you can’t do it at all? (He’s not very good. Like, not at all. As in, he’s truly terrible. Louis Armstrong rolls in his grave.)

And then the other Luke—Luke P.—takes to the stage and his talent is…telling Hannah B. he’s falling in love with her. Into the microphone. After knowing her for 48 hours. They kiss in front of everyone, in front of the other men, in front of God, in front of all of America, in front of her mom and ZZ Top-look-alike dad watching this back in Alabama.

And of course, with that brouhaha, the wrong Luke (Luke P.) wins the challenge, receiving the pageant’s crown of Mr. Right. (More like Mr. Right Away You Should Be Afraid of This Stage-Five Clinger, Hannah B.!)

At the cocktail party following the challenge, Luke S. is as dubious as I, staring into his glass of chardonnay. “I could never ever ever say that after knowing someone for such a short period of time,” he declares. And such upstanding behavior is why you got hired at Stoney’s, my honorable man.

JPJ wheedles his way into some one-one-one time with Hannah B. “You were awesome, and I had fun with you,” she says, the glow of his proud mane getting lost in the deep pools that are her dimples. He nods and smiles. I’m pretty sure he’s still wearing his Speedo under his clothes.

Neither JPJ nor Luke S. get the group date rose. Instead, it goes to a musician named Jed from Nashville, who plays the kind of acoustic music 17-year-old guys record on their Soundcloud accounts in their bedrooms. Our two Washington beaus sit by the edge of the bonfire, flames lighting their face, but they, like us, feel cold.

The day after, we’re back in the mansion, where the men gather in a sea of trendy hoodies—that is, except for Luke S., who has a man tank on. (By the way—where is freaking Joey from Bethesda? I honestly can’t tell him apart from all the other groomed, fit dudes.)

As another man gets whisked off on a one-on-one date via helicopter, the crew left behind stares forlornly at the sky, the blades kicking up dust in their eyes as the cypress trees around them wail like death, Hannah B. growing smaller and smaller until she’s just a speck in the California blue, like a dream they once had.

We can forward past this part: Hannah sits at a romantic two-top with this dude named like, Tyler or something, she talks about how she wants a family and kids, he for some reason wears a blazer with T-shirt, blah blah blah blah, he gets a rose, basking in the glow of Hannah B’s smooches and a million bedazzled votives that definitely came from a bin at Pier 1.

Up next is the second group date, which for some reason takes place at a roller derby rink. I know Joey is on this date because I heard his name called, but for the life of me, I cannot pick this man out of a crowd.

The men flail about on their wheeled feet while Hannah B. glides around in black lycra hot pants which like, how? And thankfully Joey is on screen with his name listed below which means I can finally identify him, and—yes! His team wins! He is on to the cocktail party!

The men, now showered and groomed and in their finest cocktail attire, sit in what looks like a Restoration Hardware storeroom, packed with antique wardrobes and rustic-looking picture frames. And shit—now I don’t know which one is Joey again.

Drama ensues, Hannah B. smooches and chats and giggles by the flicker of a thousand tea lights, and oh, there’s Joey, just tucked behind the broad-shouldered blazers of a few other contestants. At least I know he’s alive—I was afraid he’d fallen into, like, a galvanized flower pot or something.

Then before you know it, our two hours of Bachelorette time is almost up and here it is—time for another rose ceremony. As with all things reality TV, nothing is simple. Hannah B. cries (or maybe it’s just her really glittery eyeshadow?), male egos are dropped and bruised like fruit in the produce aisle, and one grown man throws chicken nuggets at another grown man which, yeah, checks out but also seems like a waste of some perfectly good nuggies.

And in comes Chris Harrison, which can mean only one thing: Time to hand out the roses. I have to be honest—I am not feeling confident. Our DMV boys haven’t gotten a lot of time in, which makes me think they may not be long for this bizarre little world.

A man who I think is Joey but I’m not really sure faces the camera and admits he has no clue what’s going to happen. Me neither, Phantom Joey. Me neither. The men fidget, their pocket squares peeking out in fear. Hannah B., holding roses red like her dress, begins to call out names.

And yes—fear not countrymen! Luke Stone is safe! JPJ is safe! And that dude I think must be Joey is safe, too! Hannah B.’s teeth take over the screen as a tidal wave of men come crashing down, and we did it—our trio made it through another week. Tonight, the Beltway sleeps.

Associate Editor

Mimi Montgomery joined Washingtonian in 2018. She previously was the editorial assistant at Walter Magazine in Raleigh, North Carolina, and freelanced for PoPVille and DCist. Originally from North Carolina, she now lives in Adams Morgan.

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Nick Jerome spends his days “making guys look good” at Knot Standard’s 14th Street showroom.

Nick Jerome knows style. He knows style so well, it’s his full-time job. The 26-year-old Massachusetts native is a manager at Knot Standard‘s 14th Street showroom where he oversees the day-to-day operations and spends his time “making guys look good.”

Jerome, who lives in Adams Morgan, has plenty of fashion advice and says his personal style is all about the updated classics. “A navy suit or blazer is so popular because it works in many scenarios and has for over a century,” he says. “But it’s easy to look out of date if the fit or the accents aren’t right. Tweaking those little details allows me to wear almost every garment I own in different settings while always looking dressed for the occasion.”

Men’s fashion can be tough to get into because everyone has an opinion on what the rules are and how far you can deviate from them, Jerome says. His best advice: “Trust your vision. Rules are made to be broken. As long as you love the way you present yourself and there’s a vision or strategy behind it, go for it.”

Photo courtesy of Roy Langley

What I’m wearing in this photo

The suit and shirt are from Knot Standard, and the tie is from Drake’s. “I love this monochromatic blue look. It’s a great way to have some fun while wearing a suit and tie. It’s so easy to fall into the classic dark suit, white shirt, conservative tie outfit because it works in every scenario. This puts some personality into it.”

Fashion icon

“My dad. He’s the reason I started caring about the way I dress. We’re always chasing the generation before us.”

Interview outfit 

“I have a navy, subtle windowpane suit made by Knot Standard from Dormeuil Exel Blue fabric that is my special occasion go-to. The pattern is subtle enough that I look elevated, but not out of place. Exel Blue has natural stretch—no lycra or elastane, so it doesn’t lose its ability to perform over time—and is outrageously comfortable.”

Favorite item of clothing

A field jacket from last fall. “The ability to dress up a casual outfit with a bit of an edge has added a lot to my wardrobe. I’m actually devastated that it’s getting warmer out because I’m going to have to hang it up for a few months.”

Favorite fashion trend

“I love the minimalist trend in menswear. It’s making men’s fashion a lot more approachable for the everyman. It can be intimidating to try to wear all bold patterns and crazy colors.”

Three words to describe DC’s style

“It’s getting there.”

Have a unique sense of style you’d like to share with other Washingtonians? Tag a picture of your favorite outfit on Instagram with #WhatImWearingDC, or email me with “What I’m Wearing” in the subject line. You might be featured next! To read past entries, click here.

Assistant Editor

Elliot joined Washingtonian in January 2018. An alum of Villanova University, he grew up in the Philadelphia area before moving to Syracuse to pursue a master’s in journalism. His work has also appeared in the Washington Post, TheAtlantic.com, CatholicNews.com, and Syracuse.com. He lives in Eckington.

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Street taco from Taqueria La Placita.

1. Street

Generally, small corn tortillas topped with all manner of meats—al pastor pork, pig’s head, beef cheeks—and adorned with only lime wedges, cilantro, and chopped onion, maybe a little radish. You can usually grab salsa from a fixings bar.

Where to find them: Taqueria La Placita (5020 Edmonston Rd., Hyattsville).

2. Baja

Straight outta SoCal, this style of fish taco is made with crunchy beer-battered filets, shredded cabbage, lime, and a cool mayo-based sauce.

Where to find them: Fish Taco (Cabin John and two Bethesda locations).

3. Cheffy

The tortilla is a mere canvas to be loaded up with any whimsy (or drunk-food craving), from poutine to ramen to McDonald’s-style chicken nuggets.

Where to find them: Taco Bamba (Penn Quarter, Falls Church, Fairfax, Springfield, Vienna).

Farmers market taco from Chaia.

4. Farmers Market

You know the drill: seasonal, local, often vegetarian ingredients with handmade salsas and organic corn tortillas.

Where to find them: Chaia (3207 Grace St., NW; 615 I St., NW).

5. Steamed

Also known as tacos al vapor, this Guadalajara-born snack is packed with various cuts of beef—often from the head—and then steamed so the meat gets extra-tender.

Where to find them: Tacos El Costalilla (7862 Richmond Hwy., Alexandria).

Breakfast taco from Fox Loves Taco.

6. Breakfast

The favorite in Texas and New Mexico usually comes with scrambled eggs, cheese, salsa, and maybe chorizo.

Where to find them: Fox Loves Taco (716 Monroe St., NE).

7. Avant-Garde

Mad-scientist creations such as dehydrated bananas folded around foie gras.

Where to find them: Mirabelle (900 16th St., NW).

Korean taco from TaKorean.

8. Korean

The LA food-truck favorite—with fillings such as kimchee, bulgogi, and gingery marinated chicken—has migrated east.

Where to find them: TaKorean (Metro Center, Navy Yard, Union Market).

9. Puffy

When it comes to tortillas, this San Antonio style involves the fryer, not the griddle. The hot oil aerates the masa shells.

Where to find them: Chuy’s (Rockville, Annapolis, Fairfax, Springfield, Sterling, Woodbridge).

Gringo taco from Guapo’s.

10. Gringo

Many a suburban taco night was built around a hard-shell or flour tortilla stuffed with ground beef and piled with sour cream, cheese, and shredded lettuce.

Where to find them: Guapo’s (Georgetown, Tenleytown, Bethesda, Gaithersburg, Arlington, Fairfax).

11. Choco Tacos

Remember the ice-cream-truck classic? It’s the latest kiddie treat that’s been resurrected—and upscaled—on local menus.

Where to find them: Roy Boys (2108 Eighth St., NW).

This article appears in the May 2019 issue of Washingtonian.

Ann Limpert

Executive Food Editor/Critic

Ann Limpert joined Washingtonian in late 2003. She was previously an editorial assistant at Entertainment Weekly and a cook in New York restaurant kitchens, and she is a graduate of the Institute of Culinary Education. She lives in Logan Circle.

Jessica Sidman

Food Editor

Jessica Sidman covers the people and trends behind D.C.’s food and drink scene. Before joining Washingtonian in July 2016, she was Food Editor and Young & Hungry columnist at Washington City Paper. She is a Colorado native and University of Pennsylvania grad.

Anna Spiegel

Food Editor

Anna Spiegel covers the dining and drinking scene in her native DC. Prior to joining Washingtonian in 2010, she attended the French Culinary Institute and Columbia University’s MFA program in New York, and held various cooking and writing positions in NYC and in St. John, US Virgin Islands.

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The mobile bar will serve private events and festivals

Goodies Frozen Custard & Treats owner is now pouring mobile drinks. Photo by Brandon Byrd.

For years, Goodies Frozen Custard & Treats owner Brandon Byrd has been making his own traditional Caribbean-style ginger beer. When he started selling the noncarbonated sweet-and-spicy beverage on his truck, customers kept demanding more and more. Now, he’s looking to show off the drink with a new alcohol-serving vehicle called Dr. Feel Good’s Prosecco and Cocktail Van.

Before you get too excited about a sidewalk sipping, keep in mind local regulations prevent Byrd from pulling up to any curb and serving booze. Instead, the van will stick to private events and festivals. As for why he’s turning his focus toward drinks, Byrd points out he’s not a total stranger to the beverage world. In his previous career, he worked in the entertainment industry, but he’s also done brand promotion work for Bacardi and Coors.

Staple offerings will include draft Moscow Mules and Dark and Stormies made with Byrd’s ginger beer as well as Prosecco, rosé, and sangria. While Bryd isn’t serving Goodies’ frozen custard onboard, he is continuing his love of vintage vehicles. The Italian-made Piaggio Ape appealed to him for its resemblance to the tuk-tuks he encountered during travels to Sri Lanka.

“I wanted something different,” he says. “I wanted something that would have personality. I wanted something that people would go, ‘That’s cute, but yet it’s cool.’”

Jessica Sidman

Food Editor

Jessica Sidman covers the people and trends behind D.C.’s food and drink scene. Before joining Washingtonian in July 2016, she was Food Editor and Young & Hungry columnist at Washington City Paper. She is a Colorado native and University of Pennsylvania grad.

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