Thing 49: The Uptown

You haven't been to the Uptown? You don't know how much fun the movies can be.

The Uptown is located a block from the Cleveland Park metro, on Connecticut Avenue, in that really fun and walkable neighborhood that's home to Spices, Dino, the 4Ps and Palena. So many memories on that two block strip of Connecticut -- of stopping in at Subway with a weird volunteer who cracked terrible jokes on a campaign I worked for, or of going on one heck of an awkward date to Spices, wishing the whole time I was celebrating the cinco de mayo with guacamole at GFD's house. There was the party GFL threw at her dad's house, when he used to live up there, back when we were in college and Cleveland Park seemed so far away and alien from our Foggy Bottom comfort zone. There was the time I was running across Connecticut Avenue with a huge cardboard box, between GFL's big blue van and the post office, dodging traffic. I was leaving for England in a month, and the box was full of all my nonessential items I was shipping ahead by slow boat. And then the heavy awkwardness of the box caused it to fly from my arms, into traffic, and all GFL and I could do was laugh, doubled over, on the median at the absurdity of it all.

And then there is the Uptown.

I first went to the Uptown on another ill-fated date, to see the revival of The Exorcist before going to the actual Exorcist steps in Georgetown and straining to make conversation with a beautiful boy who was dumb as a brick. We sat in the balcony, and I didn't know how to sit next to him, and we cheered when parts of DC were on the screen.

I watched the second Lord of the Rings movie there with one of my college roommates, when I had just finished reading the second book and we were both so excited to see it on the big screen.

There was the time I saw Pearl Harbor there, and Senator Lieberman and his wife Hadassa were sitting two rows ahead of me. This was about six months after the 2000 election, when I was still new to the 'celebrity' sightings of DC politicians, and somehow sitting two rows behind the person who was nearly the Vice President was so exciting. Better than the movie, frankly.

I have seen Harry Potter 3 and 4 there, waiting in the November cold to get in the theater after enchiladas from Alero, taking surreptitious slugs out of a fifth of Knob Creek bourbon, trying to keep warm.

And I was there again last night, on opening day of the fifth Harry Potter movie (which is so good). We waited in the hot and heavy July air, braving the occasional coolness of raindrops after work in the hopes of getting good seats, sucking on homemade toffee and comparing Harry Potter 7 theories. (I know it is far fetched, but I just really think Neville is The Chosen One. Nerd alert!).

The Uptown is special. Opened in 1936, it is one of the few single screen theaters that still show newly released films. It is designed in the art deco style as what was once called a 'movie palace." It is the only theater I know of with an honest to God balcony. It has its drawbacks -- the concessions stands are small, the bathrooms not equipped for a full house, and judging by last night, not the greatest of air conditioning systems. But overall, going to the Uptown is an experience, treating a movie as something special. It feels different than going to a multiplex.

But really, we go for the screen. The single screen at the Uptown, forty feet tall and seventy feet wide, hulking and curved, is widely thought of as the best screen in the DC metro area. The screen is so big and wide, it fills up your entire eyeballs. There's nothing else to see but the action on the screen. You fall into the action, all peripheral distractions gone, and only brought back suddenly when the action on screen elicits a hardy laugh from the audience, or cheers and applause. The pleasure of seeing a movie with 800 other people -- what is at heart a solitary pleasure is transformed into a community experience. Everyone cheers at the end when the hero saves the day, even though the celluloid hero can't hear you. You do it because all 800 of you are rooting for him, together.

And so I ate homemade toffee and 'butter topping' topped popcorn in the dark at the Uptown, diving deeply into the magic at Hogwart's, crying for Harry's solitude and laughing along with his friends, and along with the 800 others in the room.

Thing 48: Pacific Cafe & Grill

What to do on the 5th of July, when no one is in the office and your stomach may still be a bit annoyed that there was a bloody mary bar in your apartment yesterday morning?

Treat yourself to some pho!

Or at least, that is what I had today for lunch. There's a Vietnamese place I've been itching to try ever since I strolled all the way down Pennsylvania Avenue to Trusty's. Past Eastern Market, at the corner of Pennsylvania and 12th, SE, it's a nice stroll from my office. And since no one is in the office today, I strolled down by myself, and requested a table for one at the Pacific Cafe & Grill (no website, but located at 1129 Penn Ave, SE).

The restaurant was large, spacious, with probably twenty white table clothed tables, and cushioned banquettes running along each wall. There was a large bar in the corner, though it was too early in the day for it to be in use. The decor was a bit eclectic, full of fake trees and paintings that have no running theme, no definitive style. One was an amateurly painted lake scene, one a large photograph of a flower garden...It was nearly empty when I arrived, perhaps because it was the day after the 4th of July, or maybe just because it's past the bulk of businesses and foot traffic in Eastern Market. I was seated at a window table, next to a table of three friends who appeared to also be nursing their hangovers with bowls of pho.

Some people don't like eating alone, but it doesn't bother me. When I was in college, I did some solo traveling in Europe -- one of the very best experiences of my life -- and the trade off for the freedom of traveling by yourself is that you learn to eat your meals alone. I had my book with me, and I was able to order what I wanted, lingering over my summer rolls, and didn't have to worry about splitting up the check when it was all over.


I stuck to the basics, a Vietnamese iced coffee, shrimp summer rolls, and a hot bowl of beef meatball pho. The iced coffee arrived along with the beautiful plate of toppings for the pho -- a plate of different shades of green and white, mung bean sprouts, a lime wedge, dark green jalapeno slices with white seeds, topped with two sprigs of delicate basil. I nursed the iced coffee, sweet with condensed milk, saving most of it as my impromptu dessert it was so rich and sweet -- almost a milkshake.

My shrimp summer rolls arrived, two fat rolls in their translucent rice wrappings, a single scallion poking out of the top, and the pink of two fat shrimp visible underneath the wrappings. They came with a peanut dipping sauce that was too sweet, but the rolls themselves were a bit bland, so I dipped them nonetheless, mixing sweet peanut with the meaty shrimp, cool rice noodles and lettuce.

And then my big, steaming bowl of pho arrived. Admittedly, I'm not an expert at pho. I've actually only had it once before, back when I worked way out in Virginia, past the Beltway even (those were the days of car ownership and stressful commutes). Northern Virginia has a plethora of pho joints, most notably Pho 75, one of whose many outposts I visited when I used to work way out there. But for the city dweller, good pho is hard to find, and I will take what I can get. I ordered the meat ball pho in beef broth, which came piping hot, with scallions, rice noodles and large beef meatballs, strangely spongy and from a totally unidentifiable part of the cow.

I like my pho spicy, and loaded it up with fish sauce and chili sauce, squeezed the lime wedge into it, and added some basil leaves and bean sprouts for the crunch. A stir, a taste, a bit more chili sauce and another good squirt of huac nam. And then hover over the bowl, spooning the spicy sour salty broth, doing my best to eat the rice noodles with chopsticks (and spattering soup everywhere), the steam rising and clouding my glasses. I ate just as much as I could, leaving some broth and noodles at the bottom of the bowl, before turning my attention back to my iced coffee, a sweet note to end the spicy meal.

The service was attentive but unobtrusive. They cleared various plates as I contently read my book, although they seemed to disappear when it came time to get my check. When I finally got the bill, it was a bit more than I usually pay for lunch ($20, tip and tax included), but I also got two courses and a sweet drink. Plus I was treating myself and celebrating the fact that I survived the bloody mary bar, so $20 it is. The hot spicy pho hit the spot, and I left the restaurant satisfied and quite full.

Thing 47: 2Amys

Remember back when I kept moaning about the lack of good, unpretentious, inexpensive Italian restaurants?

Thank goodness for 2Amys. I had never been there, but prompted by a comment from a reader, not to mention about one million recommendations from Sietsema et. al., the Boyfriend and I made a point of finally dining there. Oh 2Amys, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

1. The hostess told us it would be a half hour to 40 minute wait. It was a 35 minute wait. Which means it's busy, but not unmanageable, and they are honest.

2. I wore jeans. The Boyfriend wore jeans. The Boyfriend was even wearing a bright blue WAKA kickball tee shirt. In other words, no need to dress up.

3. Except for a slight hiccup in service at the beginning, when our waitress abruptly walked away and took awhile to come back, the service was very attentive. When we asked for our appetizer quickly, it came quickly. When we dropped cutlery, it was replaced right away. When I ordered the pizza on special, our waitress recommended a slight addition to it which enhanced the flavor (more cheese).

4. The lively atmosphere of a welcoming neighborhood joint. There were lots of families, lots of young children excited for pizza, and a mix of college students and old friends catching up. Indoors was a noisy rush, with noise bouncing off the tiled floors and a lively wine bar tucked into the back. We sat on the outdoor deck, which wasn't as loud, but had the added bustle of car alarms and air conditioners from the apartment building next door.

5. The food. In the end, I want good food. And the food was simple, flavorful Italian food. It highlighted fresh, quality ingredients, and simple, central flavors. I saw appetizer plates of thinly sliced prosciutto served with thick slices of peasant bread. Salads composed only of arugula and a large round fresh mozzarella. Garlic bread toasts with only olive oil and garlic brush on, and singed on the grill.


For an appetizer, we'd ordered potato and prosciutto fritters, which were breaded with a peppery, large-crumb coating, deep fried with a creamy potato filling flecked with parsley and thick slivers prosciutto.

The menu consists almost exclusively of pizzas, with some salads and paninis thrown in. The toppings are good - they have some interesting combinations, plus the basics, or you can create your own. I ordered the special, which had chanterelle mushrooms, grilled onions and squash blossoms. The Boyfriend went a bit overboard and created one with pepperoni and Gorgonzola -- both very strong flavors that made the pizza very rich. But the toppings aren't even the point. The crust...oh the crust! It's thin in the middle and the sides bubble up and are chewy and yeasty and crispy, and slightly charred from the pizza oven. So this is what everyone was raving about! It was completely satisfying (and made me very glad I didn't go when I wasn't eating gluten). We each got about two-thirds of the way through our pizzas, before stopping to have enough for lunch the next and to save room for dessert!


Dessert was a bowl of house made cinnamon chocolate chip ice cream. Now, ever since I bought my ice cream maker, I have been churning up a storm. Fresh mint with cocoa nibs, strawberry champagne sorbet, blueberry frozen yogurt, French vanilla...My freezer overflows with homemade ice cream. I tell you this so that you understand, I'm now a pretty serious ice cream snob. I sneer at Ben & Jerry's - mix ins do not a quality ice cream make. Haagen Dazs? I can do better. Breyers? Don't waste my time. But 2Amys' ice cream held its own. Was it as good as mine? Not quite. But it didn't keep us from scraping the last drops out of the bowl. And I already have my plan of attack for how to recreate the flavors in my own kitchen.


6. It was cheap! We each had a drink with our meal, split a starter and a dessert and each had a pizza, and only paid $30 a person, including tax and tip. Affordable, friendly and delicious Italian? Finally. 2Amys has moved into our permanent rotation.