Our “DC Restaurant Week” vacation began in earnest on Monday evening, as we took the Metro downtown to sample upscale Mexican food at MXDC. A short two-block walk from Metro Center, this three-level Todd English restaurant was new to all three of us, making for a promising beginning to our week.
All three agreed that Andrew’s Black Sea bass with Brussels sprouts was the top choice of the three entrees. I had a very good Mole de Costilla (short ribs) while Candice went with the steak option. I also had an Azul Guacamole with blue cheese, bacon, chipotle, and red onion that was wonderfully spicy.
We have six more of these lined up over the next week, so I have to pace myself in both writing and eating. We all gave MXDC between 3-to-3 1/2 stars. A good start!
More to come…
DJB
Image: Andrew gets ready to kick off Restaurant Week by digging into the Sea bass at MXDC
Parishioner Paul Brewster speaks with Ruby Sales at St. Alban’s Parish
St. Alban’s Parish was blessed this morning with the presence and witness of Ruby Sales, a civil rights activist whose life was saved 50 years ago by the actions of Jonathan Daniels. Michael Ruane, writing in the Washington Post, explains:
By all rights, Ruby Sales should have been killed on Friday, Aug. 20, 1965.
She should have been hit by the shotgun blast fired by the enraged white man on the porch of the general store in rural Alabama.
Her life should have ended at 17, an African American college student and civil rights worker, gunned down under a Coca-Cola sign in the fight for freedom and justice.
But there she was Sunday morning, age 67, in St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Northwest Washington, given a half-century of life by a white seminarian named Jonathan Myrick Daniels who pushed her aside and died in her place.
She sat in an ornate wooden chair in the chancel of the church, the decades having taken a toll on her eyesight and her knees, and called herself “a remnant” of the great civil rights generation now passing from the stage.
Ruby Sales may see herself as a remnant, but her call for justice was strong and unequivocal. “I never imagined that there would be people working overtime to dismantle those changes,” she said. “I never imagined that . . . once again black people would be fighting for our lives.”
Speaking for thirty minutes from the chancel in St. Alban’s, Ruby Sales took the three lessons from today’s liturgy and spoke to them from her perspective as an African American woman who grew up under state sanctioned terrorism. From the lessons in Samuel, she saw King Solomon – with his riches and slaves – in a different light than the traditional perspective of wisdom in which Solomon is usually portrayed. And she contrasted the decisions Solomon made with those made by Jonathan Daniels.
“You have to understand the significance of Jonathan’s witness,” she said. “He had graduated from the Virginia Military Institute. A doctor’s son, he had studied at Harvard and at a traditionally white Episcopal divinity school. He walked away from the king’s table. He could have had any benefit he wanted, because he was young, white, brilliant and male.”
She then spoke at a later forum with the title “We’ve Been Here Before.”
In that forum, Ruby Sales spoke of the spiritual genius of her parents and grandparents, and suggested that we all become better acquainted with African American history. It was in that context that I asked her thoughts on the fact that the families of those slain at Emanuel A.M.E. Church in Charleston had been able to offer forgiveness, while families of others killed in recent mass murders seemed to have such different reactions. This is a topic that has been on my mind, and that of many others, over the past two months. (See also here, and here.)
Ms Sales responded with grace and understanding. She said, “Forgiveness is the result of a long journey. Forgiveness comes out of lamentations.” She said that her parents and their peers did not allow her to hate. “If you said you hated someone, that was a ‘sit down and think about it awhile’ offense.” The forgiveness, as she saw it, was God’s forgiveness and not an absolution of racism and white supremacy. It was one more powerful witness on a Sunday full of them.
With gratefulness for the lives of both Jonathan Daniels and Ruby Sales.
Evensong Farm’s stand – our first stop every week at the Silver Spring Farmers Market
Vacations in the Brown family are wonderful times to try new foods and restaurants – even when staying at home for two weeks.
As yesterday’s post noted, I jumped out of the “vacation mode” gate early. The wonderful food and drink at Biga on the Banks in San Antonio simply whetted my appetite – literally – for the week ahead. Last evening, Candice, Andrew and I spent a delightful evening at the tapas restaurant Barcelona in Cathedral Heights. Candice and Andrew highly recommend the white sangria with the spring seasonings of lavender, sage, and rosemary. We had a wide array of tapas, and all were tasty. Some of my favorites included the mussels al diablo, the shrimp with a gazpacho dipping sauce, and the lamb chops.
But my vacation didn’t officially begin until today. So in the spirit of yesterday’s post, I’m going to report – as frequently as possible – about the meals and other foodie treats we’re going to enjoy these next two weeks.
It is a terrific time to sample what the city has to offer, as the annual DC Restaurant Week begins on Monday and runs through the following Sunday. The three of us sat down together this afternoon and made reservations for virtually every night of restaurant week (and then some). More on that in a bit.
Today’s food adventure began where it does every Saturday we are in town – at the Silver Spring Farmers Market. We bought our food from the regulars – eggs and meats from Julie at Evensong Farm, bread and pasties (including Rhubarb turnovers when they are in season) from Shana at Talking Breads, milk and cream from Clare at Clear Spring Creamery, corn on the cob and peaches from Winn and Fredi at Quaker Valley Orchards, mushrooms from North Cove Mushrooms, and cheese, butter, lettuce, tomatoes, green beans, blueberries and on and on…whatever is in season.
In the new movie That Sugar Film, we’re all instructed to “turn right upon entering the supermarket and head to the produce department, bypassing everything in the middle.” We do that one better. We simply bypass the supermarket for most of our food.
Before we put those wonderful ingredients to use for dinner tonight, Andrew and I took an “urban studies” stroll around Silver Spring to stretch our legs and talk about how the city is changing. And as we walked up one block full of development and (actually) good architecture, we came upon the side wall of the restaurant Urban Butcher (another regular at the market) and this scene:
The indoor/outdoor bar is open at Urban Butcher
Ahhhh! The “garage doors” were raised and the bar was serving customers both inside and outside – simply by having the bartender turn around. We decided it was such a lovely day that we’d take a break from our walk and sample an Urban Butcher gin and tonic (DJB – made with the DC-distilled Green Hat Gin and Urban Butcher’s tasty homemade tonic water), and an Urban Derby (Andrew – Bulleit bourbon and grapefruit juice).
Suitably fortified, we headed home where Candice was putting the finishing touches on our meal – with all ingredients straight from the farmers market or our window boxes. Sitting on our back deck, we had a wonderful mixed green salad and Zucchini Flan courtesy of a recipe that Candice found in the New York Times. Eggs, milk, cheese, and zucchini – delicious, healthy, and all from the Silver Spring Farmers Market!
To whet your appetite, here’s our list of restaurants we’ve lined up to visit during DC Restaurant Week:
MXDC
New Heights
SEI
DC Coast
Jackie’s
Fig & Olive
Iron Gate
Mix
So check back in and see what we’ve found. We’ll be sure to toast all our regular readers. And in the meantime, you can get in the spirit with a little bit of Good in the Kitchen, by Bearfoot.
Whatever you call it, the prospect of a couple of weeks off put me in the celebratory mood on Thursday evening, after wrapping up a series of meetings over three days in Austin and San Antonio, Texas. There had been good conversations with colleagues and partners, delightful shared meals where we mixed preservation and brisket at Austin’s Scholz Garten, the oldest restaurant in Texas, and a reception in San Antonio that featured an amazing array of 19th and early 20th century military helmets!
By the time my meetings were over and all that was left was the flight home, I was ready for a bit of relaxation.
My colleague Katherine and I basically stumbled upon Biga on the Banks – an excellent New American restaurant that’s a draw for foodies in the region. I asked for a bourbon, and our server said, “Let me get you our list. We have an excellent selection.” And then he pointed out their three options of Old Rip Van Winkle and I thought, “Why not? I’m on vacation!”
So taking it off the office bill (I’m not submitting THAT with my expenses), I had him bring us two pours of Old Rip Van Winkle 10 Year, 107 proof, neat. (It was a celebration, but I wasn’t quite ready to foot the bill for a 20 year, Old Pappy Family Reserve!) The 10 year was pretty wonderful, both Katherine and I agreed, and it set me in the mood for the taste of vacation.
But before leaving the state and hitting full vacation mode, I also wanted to have a Shiner Bock beer. (It almost seems criminal to come to Texas and not have one of the state’s signature beers.) So we ordered one at the airport today with our pulled pork lunch. AND WE WERE CARDED!
Carded in Austin
Katherine (who is much younger than I am!) probably caused our server to pop the question. But we were both laughing so hard that I expect they heard us back in San Antonio. Katherine took the picture above, posted it on her Instagram account with the hashtag “#I’m too old for this,” and we began hearing back from colleagues with comments such as:
“That’s awesome, you kids!”
and
“See, you don’t really need a vacation. You already look as fresh as a teenager.”
Right.
In any event, I’m now home where Candice, Andrew, and I are heading out for dinner at Barcelona…the kick-off to our personal DC Restaurant Week (which doesn’t officially start until Monday).
For the past several weeks, the Old Testament liturgy at church has focused on the fascinating life of Israel’s King David. From the slaying of Goliath to David’s unlikely ascension to the throne, to Samuel’s detailing of David’s relationship with Bathsheba (with details that caused our rector to recount the reaction of one young parishioner in her previous church as: OMG Samuel TMI!). All have shown David at his most human.
Today’s passage was about the rebellion and death of Absalom, David’s son. It ends with the grief-stricken king’s lament found in 2 Samuel 18:33:
And the king was deeply moved and went up to the chamber over the gate and wept. And as he went, he said, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”
Do yourself a favor and spend five minutes listening to the Thomas Tomkins version of When David Heard. It is one of the most beautiful, most heart-rendering pieces imaginable. I sang this piece with a group of wonderful singers a number of years ago, and as soon as those words were read today, it all flooded back into my head.
Writer’s Block (photo credit: Center for Documentary Studies)
My very wise grandmother had a saying: “Some folks are born in the objective mood.” My father has noted that his mother did not have a lot of patience with folks who were always complaining and objecting to what others did. My grandparents always had a positive outlook and attitude toward people.
I’m here to let you know that I’m writing this particular post in the objective mood. You’ve been warned!
Have you noticed an epidemic of the misuse of “I” and “me” by people who should know better?
“Me, Zim, Rendon, we’re going to get [right-hander Stephen Strasburg] back soon too, those are all pretty good acquisitions too that you don’t have to give anything up for.”
Aaarrrgh! Jayson Werth’s commentary on the return of the walking wounded to the Nationals lineup was just one of what seems a daily barrage to the grammar senses. I had it drilled into me: never put yourself first in a series. “Zim, Rendon, and me…” Think of others first. How hard is that to remember?
Perhaps I’m in the objective mood because “me” is an object pronoun and it is constantly misused as a subject pronoun. I see it in quotes from athletes. I see it in materials prepared by colleagues. I see it everywhere!
Many of us have been brainwashed to believe that “I” is somehow more correct than “me.” Not so. “I” and “me” follow the same rules as all other pronouns. Would you say, “Please give it to I”? Of course not.
Therefore, when speaking, simply ask yourself if you’re a subject or an object. If you’re an object (“Will you take a picture of Slade and…”), then you must, for the sake of all that is still good in the world, say “me.” And until you master it, a short break from talking about yourself might be in order.
One of the most common grammar errors made by people of all ages is to start a sentence with the word “Me.” For example: “Me and my family will be there at 8,” or “Me and Josh are going to play baseball.” Now’s the time to quit making that mistake. Resolve that you will never goof that way again. Instead, you refer to yourself second in sentences like that, and usually you should use “I” instead of “me.”
Please, think of others first.
The only time “me” works first? Why, Me and Bobbie McGee, of course.
So, a year later Candice and I took an early morning drive to BWI airport with Claire as she heads to her first job in Los Angeles…exactly one year to the day after we left to drive west for her senior year in college. This time, after hugs and kisses, Claire navigated the incredibly long line to check bags through Southwest, missed her original flight, caught a stand-by flight that actually got her into LAX 15 minutes earlier than originally planned, and met up with her friend Susan for a couple of days of visits before orientation begins. Me? After our regular visit to the Silver Spring Farmers Market, I took a very long nap. Quite a different August 1st from last year.
A family celebration at Le Chat Noir’s Sunday Brunch before Claire heads to LA
We celebrated Claire last Sunday over brunch at Le Chat Noir in Tenleytown as she begins her year with the Episcopal Urban Intern Program in Los Angeles. (The Episcopal Urban Intern Program is a year-long service learning project of the Jubilee Consortium – a group of inner city Episcopal parishes in LA working together to affect meaningful social change within their communities). We are all so excited to see what’s next.
Hmmm…I think I feel a west coast trip coming up!
More to come.
DJB
Image: Claire and DJB head out on August 1, 2014, on our “Not All Who Wander Are Lost” cross-country tour (photo by Candice)
Last week I spent three days working in Southeast Utah and the Four Corners region with colleagues from the National Trust and partner organizations on our Ancestral Places of Southeast Utah campaign. Here’s the campaign overview from the Trust’s Saving Places website:
Ancestral Places of Southeast Utah include archaeological sites, cliff dwellings, petroglyphs, and trails that tell stories of diverse people over the course of 12,000 years of human history. The area — mostly federal land managed by the Bureau of Land Management — lacks adequate legal protection and funding to protect its archaeological treasures. In collaboration with tribes and other local, state, and national partners, the National Trust is engaging in research, outreach, and advocacy to protect these iconic cultural sites and landscapes for future generations to appreciate.
In two full days of hiking, I was able to see a handful of the thousands of sites in this beautiful landscape. With Josh Ewing and Vaughan Hadenfeldt — the leadership of the Friends of Cedar Mesa — we visited cliff dwellings, saw petroglyphs, stood amazed at the views from Comb Ridge, and hiked to hidden springs. And always we discussed the challenges of protecting these special places.
Here are a few photos from the hundreds I took along the way.
Cliff Dwellings in the Bears Ears area of Southeast Utah
Panoramic View from the top of Comb Ridge
Petroglyphs in Cedar Mesa
San Juan River Valley with Monument Valley in the distance
On Friday we hiked in Montezuma Canyon with BLM Archaeologist Don Simonis, seeing a variety of fascinating ancestral sites.
Don Simonis explains elements of a restored kiva in Montezuma Canyon
My photographs don’t do justice to this unique landscape, but suffice it to say that this is a place worth fighting for. Thanks to Josh, Vaughan, Don and their teams – along with Amy and Tom from our staff – for allowing me the chance to glimpse a small piece of the wonderfulness of this country and its peoples.
So, you have two guys of approximately the same age (and regular readers will know what that means) in a car driving the six hours from Salt Lake City down to the Southeast Utah town of Bluff (population 150+) through the awesome landscape of red rocks, wide open vistas, mountains, mesas, and deserts.
Navajo Twins in Bluff, Utah
What’s on the musical playlist when you have all day and long stretches of lonesome highway?
Why the Stones (Sticky Fingers, double album with Eric Clapton playing on Brown Sugar). Lyle Lovett and his Large Band. Merle Haggard and Big City. And most appropriately, Leon Russell and the Shelter People singing Stranger in a Strange Land.
What better song to remind you that you’re not in Kansas anymore.
Tom and I certainly tested the speakers in our little rental car. So crank it up!
From deep in the American West (yes, I’m traveling again), here are some photos and very brief observations from the last two-three weeks that I’ve wanted to post…but haven’t found the time. And I’ll begin with a few pictures from Tom Brown’s Excellent 90th Birthday Adventure. (Or the Tom-Tom Palooza, as coined by my niece Rachel.)
The von Brown Family Singers prepare for their big turn in the spotlight at First Baptist Church
Candice and DJB with Tom Brown to celebrate his 90th birthday
A vivid memory from family gatherings from my youth were my uncles Joe, Jimmy, and Paul — along with my Dad — sitting together and watching the children play. Here’s the next generation, although the vice has turned from cigars and pipes (everyone but my father smoked) to beer. Here two of my nieces, their husbands, my brother-in-law Mark, and Candice join me in relaxing by the pool.
The next generation
Claire and Andrew with their Chicago cousins Zoe and Kelsey
Tom Brown with his children (clockwise from upper left) Joe, Steve, Debbie, David, and Carol on July 5, 2015 – his 90th birthday
Tom Brown (yes, the one with the suspenders) with all his family members to celebrate his 90th birthday
And now for something completely different.
We celebrated the start of the new (fiscal) year at work with that great Southern tradition — seersucker. Unfortunately, not too many folks at the National Trust own any seersucker (at least not any that they would be caught dead in out in public), so the brave few posed in front of Common Reader by the artist David Salle (from the collection of The Glass House). And yes, Katherine does look like she has a crocodile dancing on her head!
Seersucker Day, with Brent, DJB, Diana, Katherine, Brendan, and Tom
My favorite seersucker story comes from a former board member at the National Trust and one of my all-time favorite people, the late Bradley Hale from Atlanta, Georgia. Bradley and another partner from the prestigious Atlanta law firm of King & Spalding were in Las Vegas for a convention, and being good Southern gentlemen they went into the bar — wearing their seersucker suits — to get a drink. After a few minutes, when several waitresses passed them by, they stopped one and asked if they could order. Her response? “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were with the band!” Classic.
And finally.
Our Vice President for Historic Sites knows of our family’s love for Claremont, California – home to Pomona College. Katherine’s husband attended graduate school at Claremont, and she headed there for a conference just a few short weeks after Claire’s graduation. She texted me and said, “I’m bringing you home something you’ll enjoy from Claremont,” and the next week the following bumper sticker showed up on my desk.
A wonderful reminder of Some Crust Bakery in Claremont, California. One of our all-time favorite bakeries.
I could almost taste that breakfast slider…or a Valentine’s day cupcake…or the cranurkey sandwich…or their wonderful lattes.
Off to more travels. Look for some updates soon from Cedar Mesa in Southeast Utah.
More to come…
DJB
Image: Claire, Candice, Tom, DJB, and Andrew celebrating Tom Brown’s 90th birthday
