cava mezze, 523 8th street, se, barracks row, washington dc

ok, so lately i'm socializing on 8th street, southeast. aka barracks row. it's so easy to be there. if you wanna see me, invite me to nearly anywhere on 8th street and i'm alloverit.





i kinda want to move to that 'hood. seriously.

the restored barracks row district has it all in this smartly-dressed girl's estimation. and it keeps gettin better.

starting with the new greek resto, cava mezze. and as you well know, i love all things a la grecque [that's french for greek]. and since i can't seem to get my we-wear-short-shorts wearin' arse overseas, i'll happily settle for cava mezze for now.


the 8th street se corridor is a peaceful, casual neighborhood lined with historic rowhouses, in walking distance to lots of stuff. and there are always people out and about. if you don't have a dog, get one or borrow one. they have no less than three doggie boutiques on 8th, which is peculiar. but cool. philippe digs it too. [love that little guy with curiously good taste.]


i've kinda been obsessing about becoming a part of this community lately. the neighborhood is an amalgamation of all kinds: young broke hill staffers, military, cute young couples, baby buggies, gay guys, and hopefully attractive single straight guys if i'm serious about moving there.


of important note, the place is crawling with captivatingly cute marines milling around. the marine corps barracks are situated at the end of 8th street and that's where they live i guess. you should really try to get over there at the crack of dawn if you want to see them working out. who loves ya, baby?

my, my, they are fine specimens to behold. all fresh-faced, and perky and angular. and those summer blue-white dress uniforms are tadiefor. meow. my heart beats a little faster when i'm on 8th street. i feel a spring in my jimmy choo'ed step.


[i know, i know what you're thinking. i don't need a lecture. these young boys are like fireflies - they're fun to look at but you don't really want one to land on you.]


back to the newest spot to grace 8th. cava mezze. if i used caps i would capitalize the word coolio here. i totally have a crush on this place.



firstly, i love a summertime patio. cava mezze has a rooftop deck as well, sadly it's only open on thurs-fri-sat. what the?

for the love of the few, the proud, open that bad boy up. what are you waiting for?





cava mezze's got a chill vibe with undeniable style. really interesting mod lighting fixtures. it only took us 10 minutes to grab a spot on the patio. bonus. it was a monday.

i should mention it's half-priced bottles of wine on mondays. i don't give a black-footed ferret's ass about prices but hey, it's nice when something's almost free.

we enjoyed a couple three bottles of segura viudas cava, normally 40 but tonight only 20. guess that's why they reserve half-priced bottles for mondays - we all need to be back to work the next day. it was yummy bubbly and beyond that the bottle was cool. it was worth 20 bucks empty i think.

as you probably guessed if you're smart, which you are, because you're reading this, this spot's all about small plates. mezze.

appetizer-lover that i happen to be, i feel like i just entered st. peter's anteroom, the waiting area just outside the pearly gates. this menu, it's overwhelming me with so many small plate choices. it's enormous. where to begin. hoo rah.

oh and they bring you for free pita with olive oil, some red-orange spicy-as-hell pottage for dipping and warm kalamatas. i can't express how lucky i am for all the freebies i've been getting lately. what gives?

we share more than our share of goodies. before we can decide upon anything, we saw some jaw-dropping fries walk by. this summer's must have accessory.

how absolutely darling is that sweet little fryer basket? those handcut fries were evil good.

we also ordered the obligatory hummus and pita. just in case. yum, standard. yum.

greek grilled cheese was stickyummy. kefalograviera [huh?] cheese melted on yummy bread and drizzled with honey and sprinkled with thyme. holy mother of socrates. brilliant i say.

calamari: how boring. admit it though, isn't it your life's mission to find the perfectly cooked calamari? i don't know why it's so hard, but most places can't get it crispy. there's nothing worse than floury tasting calamari that's mushy. ick. cava mezze's is pretty good, some of the better that i've had i think. the best is still found over there at the capital grille. hands down. but, this shouldn't disappoint less critical eaters.

so brace yourselves, the both of you, for this one. lamb sliders. chopped grilled leg o' lamb with (not-so-greek) jalapenos, feta, arugula and yogurt. if you can take the spice you're gonna love these little darlings. just make sure you've got a grip on your glass cuz they're they're fiery little bastards. served on toasted and good but not homemade buns.

so, mezze. (meh-zay). the pleasure of savoring little plates of food with wine and drinks. according to the menu. i can't wait to go back. new hangout, no question.

heaven knows we need to consider abandoning lola's [home of what we're not-so-fondly referring to as spring break '09] where we get ruffied by the bartender.

capitol lounge, 229 pennsylvania avenue, se, dc

bored on a thursday night? can't decide where to go? before you make any rash decisions (like popping in to capitol lounge), ask yourself the following questions:

am i in my 20's?
am i broke or nearly so?
do i live within 4 blocks of capitol lounge and without car/bike/metrocard?
am i literally dying of thirst?
am down to my last 5 bucks before payday?
are all my friends, plus someone i want a meaningless, tawdry one-night stand with enjoying cap lounge right now?

if you answered yes to all of these questions, knock yourself out. go on to cap lounge. it's ok, this could be the place for you.

if, however, you answered no to any one of these, don't go. just don't do it. even if you're
30 something and look 20 something, i cannot stress this enough - it's not gonna be your cup o' tea.

if, however, you're not going to follow my new and official capitol lounge rule, you best get half in the bag before you go. and whatever you do, never admit to it, like i'm doing here. just deny you were there. no one will remember you anyway so you can deny it.

i'm horrified it was the last on our stop of dc bar-hopping on a random thursday evening. do we still call it bar-hopping?

so, we were perusing the town for an interesting social scene. i'm even more horrified that we struck out so much so at previous two restaurants that we ended up at dc's famed capitol lounge. if walls could talk i bet this place has some really disgusting stories to tell.

i heard someone once say that the best thing that ever happened to cap lounge was that it burned down. rebuilt it, they did, though.

what i wanna know is did they rebuild it with the stinky, slimy remains of the burned down building or what's going on here? who's their contractor? for the love of all things holy, why are they burning 15 glade strawberries and cream scented candles all over the bar? that smell, combined with the smell of the bar sludge might be the grossest combination i've ever experienced. the bathroom was a nice departure from the smell of the bar area.

did you know cap lounge claims to be a wine bar? ha, ha, ha, that's so funny - seriously that cracks me up.

who gave me the shot of southern comfort and lime? it's taken me two days to get over this place.

oh and this is a good one: to cap off my night at cap lounge, i almost got in a girl fight on my way out.

a young, ill-mannered and sadly fashioned hill staffer had the nerve to call me 30 and told me i was too old to be there (guess she was afraid her beau was enjoying my rock and republic'd arse).

all i have to say to that is, honey, you're right. i am too fabulous for this place and so you can have your beloved capitol lounge - you fit right in. stinky slimy bars are not my scene. {just in case i was wondering, which i wasn't.}

p.s. all this aside, if you saw me at cap lounge the other night, you'd think i was having the time of my life; i even broke out my best michael jackson impersonation, which is quite a scene. well it wasn't the time of my life but it sure was fun. at the end of the day, i'm a firm believer in it doesn't really matter where you are if you're with fun people. true dat.

matchbox vintage pizza bistro, 521 8th street se, capitol hill, dc

so a couple saturdays ago after my birthday evening out, my dear friend and i (in rough shape much like our younger years found us on saturday mornings) decided we better check out the new matchbox location on capitol hill in hopes of curing what was ailing us. the night before was a champagne wonderland of girls being girls. girls gone wild. minus the midriff baring, beer-chugging keg-stands. our version of girls gone wild is much more civilized than it used to be but so much fun, nonetheless.

so, i picked her up saturday morning (at 1:30 pm) from undisclosed location near cap hill wearing same outfit as night before. black, sequined shirt, skinny black pants, platform pumps and all, slightly less glamorous than she looked the prior night. let me tell you this was no ordinary february 7 - it was gorgeous outside - nearly 65 degrees - so her get-up was even funnier we thought.

oh thank goodness the fine folks at matchbox had a seat for us. (rumor has it it's been jam-packed since day 1 and it's a biatch to get in to). sadly they didn't have a booth for us. isn't that all we really want in life - a nice cushy booth with lots of space and no one touching us, no one close enough to hear us, smell us, or even look at us when we're hung over? oh well we can't have it all. we were actually sitting uncomfortably snugly between two couples along the wall. and you know what? we didn't give a rat's arse - we were happy to be laughing and rehashing the night before - again, just like old times.

everyone has already been to the matchbox in chinatown, i'm sure, but i'm writing about this one, ok? i haven't been to the old location in moons as it happens so i'm talking about it like i've never been, which i haven't, to this just-opened location.

oh my brain was not functioning that day. how i went from not wanting to celebrate my birthday at all to having a full-fledged 3:30 am stumbling home blowout i don't know. what the heck happened to me? i'll tell you what happened. i never go out - i'm boring and busy and never go out. therefore when i do, it's like letting a wild, caged animal out of the zoo. he goes crazy, throws caution to the wind, finds a lampshade and puts it on his head, dances in public like michael jackson and thinks he's really funny. really really funny. that aside, back to matchbox, the new locale.

it's so incredibly big, ginormous. you think it's going to be a tiny little hole in the wall from it's downplayed location on 8th street, nestled amongst the beer pubs, and old mixed with new shops of all sorts. everything is new and shiny and clean but rustic with exposed pipes and brick. i love the look of it. they have a loft upstairs too - thank goodness they didn't make us walk those stairs though. i think it'd be fun to sit at the high-top tables at the bar too next time. note to self for future: i think there might be some hotties hanging out here on the weekends, drinking beer with their gourmet pizza. could be my type of guy.

we were so excited to get a pizza. matchbox is known for having great pizza - the kind i really love - thin, crispy crust with simple toppings. we had a hangover hankering for a tomato and mozzarella pizza with basil. simple.

well that is until we saw the mini burgers! we must order those too, we said. and we did. you should know mini burgers are all the rage now. but people call them mini burgers and they're really not that mini - they're actually the perfect size burger. (i make the smallest burgers in town - and they're mini burgers - they're tiny burgers; maybe i should call them mini sliders, because a slider is a mini burger, right?)

anyway, we get three mini burgers, ordered with bleu cheese on top. well, we think our neighbors got our burgers and ours came with smoked gouda or something. oh well, they were still really good. they come with a mountain of fried onions on top. impressive looking but they're too thin to eat. they're also not crispy. they're limp and oily. hey, limp and oily actually reminds me of another story. well, perhaps another time. i know a lot of people really go crazy for these but not me. they fall into the shoestring fry category for me. i like a little more substance in my fried onions (and my french guys, i mean fries).

we ordered our pizza and started to eat it when sadly, the crust isn't crispy at all! turns out the mozzarella and tomatoes have so much water in them they can't get the crust crispy! what??? oh no - this won't do. no gummy pizza when you're hung over.

our neighbors sitting {in our laps} next to us to us (probably annoyed with us eye-balling their pizza like starving children) inform us they too have ordered the mozzarella tomato pizza with disappointment, sent it back to be "crisped up" without luck. damn, sam. they said we could have some of their pizza if they wanted. sweet, no?

see, this is what i'm talking about: you're just too close to people in some restaurants. somedays you feel like making friends with your neighbors and some days you just don't. when i should have been a grumpasaurus rex though, i actually didn't mind - the alcohol level in my blood was still fairly high i think so i was somewhat perky and still pretty darn funny. my friend couldn't resist telling them she doesn't normally dress like this on saturday afternoons.

by the way, they don't have fresh tomatoes - we asked! darnit, they were using stewed whole tomatoes. i know tomatoes aren't in season but still, roast up some fresh ones - that's what you do when they're not in season! please for the love of all things holy!! call me for a quick and useful lesson on making fresh tomatoes taste good - roast 'em up! garlic, olive oil, herbs, salt, pepper, sugar. geez, louise!

instead, we ordered a different pizza. sausage, roasted red peppers and onions. it came out hot and crispy and perfect. i wished we'd gotten a large but we only had a medium. neighbor boy ordered the best looking bloody mary i think i've ever laid eyes on. for once i just couldn't do it though. i knew it would easily send me back into la la land and i had to get home and watch some quality lifetime television for women movies and rest. (neighbor boy was, by the way, pretty cute my friend tells me - i was too blinking close to distinguish his features - kind of like a monet.)

you know, one of the things i think is kind of strange in this today's age of restaurants shutting down all over the place because of the economy, lowering their prices, firing people, etc., when i see the amount of money that must've gone into the menus at matchbox i think what a waste. they're gorgeous, sleek and chic as can be bound with real wood on the front and back covers. the decor of this place is so cool because it's done so perfectly well - it's so clean and new but has a rustic, not trying-too-hard, casual appeal to it. then the menu goes against everything else they've done to create this feel. i don't get it. i'm sure no one else thinks of this but me. just an observation.

i was real happy with that place, i gotta tell you. i love the atmosphere. the 2nd pizza we got was perfectly done just right. we boxed up the first one and i ate it later. from the comfort of my sofa as i used the rest of my day to fully recover from the transgressions of the night before.

thank goodness for matchbox pizza.