where to eat in dc | the red hen

Zan and I spent the afternoon in Georgetown. We didn’t get out of bed until 11, and then we lounged in sweatpants on the couch until 12:30, when Zan went back to bed for a nap. By 2:00pm we were finally dressed and ready to escape cabin fever before it set in. We found parking on a side street right off of Wisconsin Avenue – and somehow, I’m going to jinx us by saying this – we always find parking right there, at just about the same spot, every time we go to Georgetown. It’s a small huge Saturday gift.

We wandered through Frye and Patagonia with no place to be – sipping hot drinks and breathing in the smell of possibilities. Every time I’m in a Patagonia, I feel more adventurous, more sporty, more fit. That’s incredible branding.

Eventually, we made our way to the movie theater (but not without stopping first at the Spice and Tea Exchange for fresh thyme and garlic). We saw Her and talked endlessly after about the beautiful, sticks-with-you script. After, we debated where to go for dinner, but it was never really a question. So we drove all the way across town to my old neighborhood, Bloomingdale, for dinner at the newest “it” spot: The Red Hen.

We got there after 8:30 – a late dinner – and still there was a 2 hour wait for a table. We opted to sit at the bar instead and still waited 40 minutes for seats. I sipped on Prosecco as Zan rotated through nearly their entire list of orange wines. I’ve never seen a wine list with so many orange options. It’s such a funky wine – every one I’ve ever tried – but I dig it.

When we finally got seats, we didn’t waste time putting in our order. We shared a bottle of our favorite of the orange wines and started the meal with a beet salad for him and the Brussels sprouts for me. I don’t usually like beet salads, but the mint and caper vinaigrette kept me coming back for a few more bites. The Brussels were crispy with dill and an anchovy aioli. I wasn’t sure what to think when I read the description, but it goes to show I should think less and try more. They were delicious.

For our main courses, I was torn between several but had to try the much-raved about rigatoni with fennel sausage. I’ve seen it listed as one of the best dishes in DC on several local sites. After my first bite, I described it to Zan as, “better than I could make at home!” Reading that back now, I’m laughing, but I make homemade sauces and cook with Italian sausage so often that I have it down to an art form (for my taste buds at least!). I struggle ordering pasta at restaurants because I always think I could recreate it and should try something I can’t cook on my own. This dish blew anything I could even attempt out of the water.

Zan tried the grilled short ribs with “potato puree.” So he had ribs and mashed potatoes. It was beautifully presented and so deep with flavor that it deserves the fancier name. We finished our bottle of wine for dessert.

It was such a fun dinner. Lately, with so much stress from studying for the GRE and applying to grad school, traveling, and getting his place ready to rent behind us, we’ve been having so much fun together. Fun like we don’t have a care in the world. We may not get many times in life to feel so care-free, and I’m relishing every second of it.

It didn’t hurt that The Red Hen is completely beautiful with an atmosphere that demands care-free fun. The bar is a wide, open arc. The wood fire stove is visible from any spot in the whole place. It smells of homemade sauces and rich meats. It’s romantic without trying too hard to be so. It feels organic, just like the Saturdays we’ve been having lately.