The last year dealt some of the harshest criticisms DC has received on their restaurant scene from the New York Times, a near bottom placement in Esquire’s Top 10 Restaurant Cities, hosting a boring season of Top Chef which highlighted lackluster local restaurants, and no James Beard Award winners for the last two years DC scrambling to find a mark in the food industry. The DC food discussion has been stuck in nostalgic group therapy cupcake sessions with little appreciation for the talented chefs like Jose Andres, Johnny Monis, and the other repeat James Beard nominees.
Having lived in DC for the majority of my adult life, I find myself at odds with the city I love and the food in it. A city that runs on power, alcohol and nicotine, should have the gluttony to go with it, but the big wigs are too full of themselves, and the rest of us can’t afford to dine out after we spend half our monthly pay on rent.
