NEVER AGAIN, ETHIOPIAN

I've had Ethiopian food for the second time in two weeks. 

I've also come to the conclusion that I don't like Ethiopian food.  The spongy bread weirds me out too much.  Also, I can't stop making inappropriate jokes about it.

What bothers me even more is that I have yet to have a really, really quality meal in this city.  JH warned me about this, but I didn't listen.  I was convinced that, by sheer population size, there was fantastic food to be had all over the place.  In the past week, I've had $50 sushi that tasted like rubber, a chicken marsala dish that kind of tasted like the back of an airplane seat, and -- the most egregious offense -- a chicken parmesan sandwich made with -- wait for it -- Diced.  Grilled. Chicken.  Breading on a chicken parm is the glue which holds the entire sandwich -- nay, civiliation -- intact.  Oh, if Hog Island could see me now, I'd be ashamed.  So very ashamed.

The inevitable conclusion of all of these horrendous meals is that it's time to start cooking.  I love catching up with all of my friends, but for reals, I don't like to wake up the next morning from some god awful meal feeling like death.  I miss Whole Foods.  They have them here, but it's not the same.  I miss Central Market.  God, I miss Polvo's (this fantastic Mexican restaurant in Austin that stole my heart two years ago and has yet to give it back).  I didn't even get to say goodbye.  The problem is, I think I'm finally going to have to go through the basement and unpack my kitchen boxes, and I hate unpacking.  Especially when I just have to move again in September (long story about that, but if you know of anyone that's renting out a 2 BR apartment for September with parking and doesn't smell like cat pee, give us a holla).

In other news, I ran possibly the dorkiest 10K on Saturday ever with J and a new Iowa kid that I managed to bully into running with us.  Afterwards, we drank bloody marys and watched the World Cup, and then later that evening I met up with Kanye and Pooky and various other significant others for dinner.  Don't even make me talk about the food at dinner.  I'm too traumatized on the inside. 

Comments

[jt]

Ethiopian will grow on you. But even I can't do it more than once a month.

DC does have a disappointingly large number of crappy to mediocre restaurants. Banana Cafe in SE has pretty good Cuban food and great mojitos. And you can get them in a pitcher.