D.C. Bar Review, 2007 - Part One

But what if it don't, Mustachioed Hostelkeeper? It'd make you like "Woah." Whoops! Did I say it out loud? Kill me - I'm serious like crazy.

Anyway...

The Big Hunt: Emerged as one of my favorites, especially when taking into consideration the 'urban bar geared towards a younger set' caricatures that surround it on Dupont Circle. The bartenders and staff seem to have a bit of an edge, but don’t let the piercings, tattoos, and general gruff fool you, they’ve always been quick and courteous to all comers. It’s usually refreshingly spacious and I’m thankful for both the upstairs patio and the simple fact they keep their dance floor completely separate from the rest of the bar. I guess the unisex bathrooms catch some grief, but that’s a small price to pay for their nice tap list, which ranges from hipster nectar PBR to pretty much everything Brooklyn Brewery, a personal favorite, puts out. They’re also apparently big on seasonal rotations, which is always a plus.

Lucky Bar: One of those special places that has you questioning, even after 3 or 4 drinks, if there just might be a more stimulating, productive way to spend your Saturday evening. You either have to be housed to have fun here or pretend like you are. The pseudo-dance floor in the perpetually packed back room is strictly not conducive to the following: Moving around, not having your drink spilled on you by the constant stream of drunks and busboys desperately trying to work their way through the hordes, actually being able to order a drink in under 25 minutes, avoiding 'women' in annoying drunk mode who want you to sing/dance along to whatever repetitive pop-rap "Soulja Boy" junk they’re looping, or hearing a single word your friend, standing 2 inches from your face, is saying.

The only saving grace is that its clientele is so lazy and/or committed to grinding up against the underage GWU coed next to them that they don’t realize there’s a small, semi-hidden bar upstairs near the restrooms that usually features a friendly, cute, and professional bar maid…You know, the kind who is quick, courteous, and makes sure the last guy to put a drink on your tab had permission.

Pizza/Birreria Paradiso: If you’re into pizza as much as I am, you probably put New York style, Chicago style, and 'gourmet' pizza into separate categories. This is not to say the latter isn’t absolutely sublime. When fresh, true Italian ingredients mix with a knowledgeable and attentive operation, it makes for a tantalizing treat in a City overrun with crappy pizza – This is the kind of pizza that sees you drizzle the crust in olive oil and dust it with parm and savor it on its own. The di Mare and Atomica come highly recommended from yours truly.

And of course, there’s the beer. Paradise is an apt description – They may only have 12-16 selections on tap at any given time, but there’s nary a Budweiser or Miller Lite to be found. With an emphasis on Belgian stalwarts and Domestic microbrews/handcrafted offerings, they take the ho-hum pizza + beer combination to brave new heights, indeed.

All this, and they just happen employ one of the most knowledgeable servers in the District, who will deliver it all to your table with complementary olives and a winning smile. Food and said server’s lackluster baseball Mii aside, this place is basically exhibit A for those self-denying snobs who argue that beer cannot be classy. The only real drawback are the tight quarters upstairs, which sometimes makes it seem like you’re eating out with what Zagat's would call a "mature" couple seated next to you. I'll just stick with calling them yuppies, thanks.

51st State: A bona fide dive. But it’s a local dive; literally just around the corner. And it’s presumably a great place to watch the Yankees in October (It’s a designated New York bar). Unfortunately, given the Bombers’ October fortunes of late, none of us have had the opportunity to take advantage. Endless $3 Yuenglings and other comparatively cheap domestics certainly make up for the sparse, downright inedible bar menu (Think Wonderbread and cold cuts) and that annoying 3-5 second gap between their HDTVs and regular sets which will have one section of the place groaning in reaction to an Eli Manning INT while the other half of the bar is optimistically cheering him on as he breaks the huddle.

Dr. Dremo's Taphouse: – The only bar outside of the District to make this preliminary list. Unfortunately, its prime location between two Metrorail stops on the Orange Line in Arlington County, on a hill overlooking the District to boot, eventually lead to its demise – After rumors, appeals, and delays that have been going on since I moved down here last June, its doors closed forever after last call this past Sunday morning to make way for luxury condominiums. For all intents and purposes, a lot of people liked the place because it was a dive – A place that had inexpensive drinks, eats, plenty of dirt cheap billiards and other bar games, no smoking ban, and cover bands aplenty.

But what separated this place from the other dives on the list is not just the sprawling space it occupied (an old Oldsmobile dealership), which allowed it have three separate rooms inside, a patio, and a beer garden-esque first floor bar. Nor was it the unique decoration (patrons sat on thrift store furniture and old arcade machines). Rather, it was the pride the owners and staff seemed to take in their endeavor – the 27 beer-long tap list was diverse and fresh and the menu surprisingly lengthy. They also had a limited, but tasty selection of beers of their own design. Although they’ve long since contracted brewing to the off-site Shenandoah Brewing Company, the ones I tried held their own. And one of them, their famous/infamous Chocolate Donut Beer (depends on who you ask, of course) is interesting and delicious to say the least – Imagine an Entenmann's Rich Frosted Donut, only in beer form! Here’s to these guys finding a new location soon...

Verizon Center Concession Stands: - As somebody who had grown accustomed to watered-down Bud Light exclusive beer stands in the upper reaches of that big stadium at 161st and River Ave. in the Bronx, I’m always pleasantly surprised by the comparatively endless 'adult beverage' options at modern arenas. 'The Phone Booth' is no exception. At a recent contest, I helped take my mind off the fact that I had shelled out way too much money to watch the Knicks take on a Hibachiless Wizards squad with higher end Domestics such as Sam Winter and Red Hook ESB. And at $7 a pop, it’s a veritable bargain.

J. Paul's: – I find the outrageous prices (I drunkenly scribbled out their D.C. address one night and wrote in 'Manhattan' in protest) much more annoying than these much-maligned but seldom seen fratty Hoyas that are rumored to stroll along the trendy streets of Georgetown by night, rumbling with those who affront them by wearing off-name brands and spending their vacations somewhere other than the Cape or Vineyard. While the actual drinking situation at J. Paul’s and other Georgetown bars usually leaves something to be desired, this place in particular is nothing if not a tasty middle ground for residents and visitors alike – It offers some good local seafood and their epicurean selection of sliders hits the spot for those of us who have had to deal with life without White Castle. In the heart of Georgetown not far off of Wisconsin and M, it manages to be unpretentious and distinctively 'chill,' which unfortunately serves as a contrast when trying out some of the more upscale bistros, eateries, and bars that litter the area.

RFD: – The initials stand for "Regional Food & Drink." Seriously. Uninspired moniker aside, this Chinatown Brickskeller satellite seems to be growing in popularity. And with an eclectic, borderline exotic tap list that beckons like an oasis in a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood where most establishments are either uber-hip or cater to the Verizon Center crowds by sticking to the Domestic + Domestic Light + Sierra Nevada + Stella Artois routine, why not? If you’re looking to grab a few local rounds after a game/match/concert/monster truck rally and concede you’re going to be paying out the nose for that convenience, it’s certainly a much better option than its more popular neighbor – Fado. As a bonus, the food, be it traditional bar fare or entrees, is more than serviceable and actually pretty unique as they try to integrate a lot of their draught beers.

What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas...

So, the last day has been very eventful.

-Heath Ledger was found dead in a Manhattan apartment.

-The Dow Jones opened down almost 400 pts, even after the Fed cut the key interest rate by 0.75%. It rallied to close down only 130 pts.

-And, Natasha Bedingfield released her second studio album in the U.S., Pocket Full of Sunshine. Reviews are mixed, but I do look forward to listening to the album. I've already enjoyed the first single from the album, Love Like This featuring Sean Kingston. Also, Not Givin' Up is a well done dance type song, worth a few listens.

The only thing that is disappointing to me is the fact that (I Wanna Have Your) Babies isn't included on this release. It was included in her second U.K. album, N.B., which was not released here. Concerning her decision to leave it off this album, she is quoted in the New York Post as saying "I always thought music should be fun. I wrote [(I Wanna Have Your) Babies] as a humorous, lighthearted look inside a girl's head, but it was taken so seriously by the press. I left it off of the American album because I just got tired of explaining it."

Poor Natasha and poor America, you're missing out. Enjoy the video here. Here's her website.