Where's Edith Piaf when you need her?
Big crowds and big hair for big names.
You're Italian family's in town and this is the only place to save face.
Two shots J. Crew catalogue, a dash of Restoration Hardware, muddled conversation on ice with a twist of lime.
You won't get elected until you kiss a baby at Ben's.
Ben's saves Ben's from the tourist onslaught.
That's French for tobacco, English for "hipster circa 2003."
DC’s most established disestablishment.
Civil rights movement as theme dining: Oprah gushes and black panthers cringe but hey, no haters allowed.
Food and literature that rhymes with sex.
Because the promise of getting seduced by Latin hotties isn't just a marketing ploy.
Start with southern goth but subtract the goth. Add a pitcher of bottomless mimosas and carry the one.
Anti-gentrification holdout preaches alt-rock in Shaw.
In an ocean of Ethiopian restaurants, the fairest of them all.
Good for first dates with expectations.
Latest proof that DC is, in fact, a Belgian colony.
For guys who throw like girls and girls who throw like guys.
Food is the new goth glam death metal.
With the lights out, it's less dangerous. Here we are now, feed us brunch.
Old post office goes post-modern, welcomes all.
Beer is the new wine. Knowing it is the new hip.
Peter Pan takes steroids, freak dances the lost boys.
A new bistro that's a metaphor for the new U Street. Fresh pepper on that?
Target audience of Food & Wine magazine like the food and wine.
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