quickly falling for Fast Gourmet

I eat at gas stations a lot these days. When you're dating a foodie who didn't have "mac and cheese in a box" until he was in college, you don't expect a number of your dates to take place in gas stations. Then again, you know they're going to be good when they do.

Our first gas station date was at Fast Gourmet, a Uruguayan-run sandwich shop located inside a nondescript gas station at 14th and W NW.

Zander pitched Fast Gourmet for lunch one lazy Sunday afternoon, and I could only think two words, "Uhhhh, no?" He had to talk me into it, I'll admit it. He said to trust him. I begrudgingly did, and like always in those situations, he was right. We parked in a small, unmarked gravel lot across the street, crossed with the seriousness of an undesirable deployment and cautiously stepped into the small shop.

Instantly, I felt at home. Zan squeezed my hand, enjoying the giant smile that spread across my face taking in the funky decor (or at the satisfaction of having been right!). They have a half dozen tables, several of them long and community style. There's a clear emphasis on being eco-friendly, complete with free-trade coffee, but it's not pushy. And you can find the menu by looking above the kitchen to the colorful chalkboard.

Their menu boasts unique sandwiches like the Chivito from Uraguay and the Cubano. All sammies are served with french fries or sweet potato fries for a small upcharge.

Zan ordered the Chivito --tenderloin, mozzarella, ham, bacon, olives, eggs and escabech on a hoagie - it's a mouthful to even say! I couldn't even tell you what I got because his was so delicious. (So... not only was he right, but I wouldn't stop eating his food!)

The Chivito is $13, which evoked an involuntary cringe from me, but it's big enough to share, and did I mention delicious?! The majority of their sandwiches are $8.50. Our total came up to around $25 for the two of us, including drinks.

I love dating someone who expands my culinary horizons, who takes joy in watching me try something new and enjoy it. I especially love it when those new foods are of the scrumptious Uruguayan variety and not plates of pate and fois gras; he's still working on those...

the coconut of my eye: Thai Square

I've got my eye on Thai Square in Arlington.

My friends have taken to calling me a Thai snob, which is comical, to think of myself as any kind of food snob. I grew up on Hamburger Helper and Mom's spaghetti casserole. I have humble taste buds.

"Pad" anything didn't touch my tongue until my senior year of college when I served tables at Blue Orchid in Lincoln, NE. It didn't take long for me to warm up to it. The chefs used leftovers every night to make the staff dinner. Some dishes were love at first bite and others I threw away half way through, only to come to love them months later. I learned the names of dishes, the unique spices used and that hotter is better. To this day I swear by Blue Orchid as the best Thai food in the U.S.

Which brings me to the year I lived in Japan. I backpacked in Thailand for 10 days. From riding on rickshaws in Bangkok to volunteering on an elephant reserve in Chiang Mai for a day to ziplining through the jungles on Christmas Day to hiking over an island mountain to a secluded beach to eating, eating and eating more, it was a trip of a lifetime.

By that trip, I was decently versed in Thai cuisine - if not on the mechanics then definitely on my love for it. I burned my mouth at every meal, tears streaming down my face at the spice level and kept going back for more. I ate street food at every opportunity and gave myself a strict rule of only one drunken noodle (pad kee mao) dish per day. For a few days, I think I subsisted off of mango and sticky rice alone.

I try not to compare Thai I eat in the US to what I ate in Thailand - who wants to be around that person?! In fact, before I moved to D.C., I generously said Thai food seemed to be a rare cuisine that no matter where it's prepared, is never far from traditional. On this, D.C. has made a fool of me (Thai Xing aside)! I guess I've voiced my discontent a time or two, leaving me with that "Thai snob" scarlet phrase hanging over me.

All of this is to say that every avid Thai food fan I've asked, "Where's the best Thai in the area?" has enthusiastically responded, "Thai Corner."

I haven't had a chance to get out there yet, but I can't wait. I've read they have both Thai and English menus and that Thai nationals frequent it. It's also reportedly a hole in the wall. I can practically smell the coconut milk from here...

Have you been? What are your thoughts? where's your favorite Thai restaurant in the D.C. metro area?

[caption id="attachment_45" align="aligncenter" width="538"] Ziplining through the jungles of Chiang Mai on Christmas Day with my good friends Alex and Tiffany. The trip is called "The Flight of the Gibbons."[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_46" align="aligncenter" width="500"] Bathing elephants at the Elephant Nature Park in Chiang Mai.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_47" align="aligncenter" width="538"] THIS is how I feel about Thai food![/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="332"] Thai Square in Arlington, photo from dcgluttony's post comparing Arlington's Thai food.[/caption]

Upcoming Event: FREE wine tasting with Young Winos of D.C.

Do you like wine? Do you like meeting cool people? Do you like FREE things?

If you answered yes to at least two of those, you should engage with Young Winos of D.C., a great group run by Jessica Milby (follow her @jessicarae85). I met her through attending a few events, and she has become a personal friend (I've mentioned her before here). She's a superhero -- she runs the Young Winos social media campaign, including a blog, twitter feed and facebook page, plans and executes events for the group, holds down a full time job AND just took on a position with a wine distributor.

Tomorrow night's event is a free wine tasting at Weygandt Wines in Cleveland Park. You'll be doing a blind tasting of Lorre Valley wines, learning about the French region as you go. From the announcement:

Feel free to bring a bottle of Cab Franc, Cab Sauv, Malbec, Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc, Pinot Gris or Sauv Blanc to compare to the Loire Valley wines we'll be tasting. It will be structured as a blind tasting to learn the differences in growing regions and styles.

I can't make it by 6:00pm, but I'll try to make it before the end. Hope to see you there at and future Young Winos events!

a very #bookbroads happy hour at Boundary Stone

I've mostly cut out happy hours from my social repertoire. I know, it's tragic and it's anti-D.C. It may even be anti-American!

In fairness, I enjoy a good happy hour as much as the next patriot, but after a few months of attending them regularly, my bank account didn't appreciate the deals as much as my mind had. Now I'm more discriminating. Last night was one of the times when happy hour was worth it.

I met up with a few members from my book club #bookbroads - Ellie, always supportive Jess (@jesserker) and Social Media Maven Sarah (@sosarahsays) at Boundary Stone Public House in Bloomingdale to discuss our latest read, Unbearable Lightness. These women, and all the others in #bookbroads, are intelligent, funny and snarky - a great combination for a book club as devoted to pursuing intellectual engagement as excellent boozing.

Unbearable Lightness is Portia de Rossi's account of her lifelong struggle with eating disorders. We complemented our grave discussion with unhealthy foods. While analyzing PdR's relationship with her mother, we delved into crab dip. While dissecting her sexuality's role in her disease, we devoured fried pickle speaks. And when we got to the portion of the night wherein we discussed our own bodies and fears, we honed in on four orders of wings, sipping wine and beer to wash it down. Those topics demand a little ironic levity, no?

Boundary Stone is a hipster-friendly, non-hipsters accepted gastro-pub formerly known as a barn. It's a cool place where the bartenders remember your name and drink order, the whiskey list is endless and the wings are hands down the best in the city.

In April, they added a happy hour out of what I can only call sheer goodwill and altruism, as the place seems to be doing so well I can't imagine they needed it to drum up business. Nonetheless, we we were stoked to take advantage of the deals; maybe the calories weren't guilt-free, but the cost was!

Boundary Stone Happy Hour:

Monday-Thursday from 4pm-7pm

Half price wings!!!!! ($4)
$4 Yuengling draft
$5 red & white wines
$5 well drinks

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="314"] It's not light, it's often emotionally unbearable to read, it's thought-provoking and it's beautifully written.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_30" align="aligncenter" width="484"] From a great piece about Bloomingdale on dc.urbanturf.com.[/caption]

Veneto dreamin'...

While sipping Prosecco last Friday evening at Ripple in Cleveland Park, Zan beside me with a Rioja, we tangentially fell into a conversation on the origins of Prosecco. Josh, bartender extraordinaire, gave us the basics: Prosecco is an Italian grape.

"Where's in Italy is it grown?" I asked, surprised to stump the two men.

"Mo," Zan and Josh solemnly, simultaneously said, as if in reverence. "Mo will know."

Mo, the sommelier, is a vino viking, a wise wino, a goblet god. Without batting a single eyelash, Mo told us Veneto. Prosecco is grown in Veneto, Italy.

Provoked with imagined vineyards, rolling hills and margherita pizza magically appearing at every turn, I was filled with instant wanderlust for a place unbeknownst to me only seconds before.

Here's a little of what I've learned about Veneto in the days since...

• It's the most visited region in all of Italy, home to Venice and Verona (home to fictional lovers Romeo and Juliet. Perchance you've heard of them?)


• Prosecco is made primarily in the district of Valdobbiadene


• The Prosecco wine route starts from a CASTLE - The Castle of Conegliano


• You can cycle the Prosecco wine route... which is awesome.

From a 2010 Guardian overview of the region and wine:

Italy's famous sparkling prosecco wine comes from vineyards that cover a picturesque valley, just north of Venice. While Champagne refers to a region, prosecco is the name of the grape that is grown on rolling hills that stretch from the town of Valdobbiadene past Treviso and Conegliano, as far as Vittorio Veneto. A couple of days driving along this 'strada del vino' combines wine tastings in village cantinas, staying in charming B&Bs run by winemakers, and the chance to discover the local Veneto cuisine in rural osterie and trattorie.

I've fallen in love - with the idea, with the grape (though that's not new) and with the idea of a vineyard adventure.

I think the reason travel is so special to me, outside of the exclusively positive experiences I've had doing it, is that it allows me to dream. It's teasing-me worthy that I heard the name of a region and romanticized it within seconds, but that's how I travel, that's the beauty of travel to me. I discover new places and I try their names on my tongue over and over, and they never lose their newness. I research them until I've committed facts and locations to memory. And finally, hopefully, I visit.

I'm oft-criticized for being too easily disappointed when experiences don't meet my expectations. It's a flaw of mine, but it has never happened when it comes to travel. A foreign place holds no set expectation in my mind, only endless possibilities.

I told Zan, sitting at Ripple that evening, that it's decided - someday we'll be in Veneto, Italy. He nodded okay.

[caption id="attachment_22" align="aligncenter" width="538"] I can't get enough of this beautiful shot from deliciousitaly.com.[/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="509"] Conegliano Castle from an incredible post on the prosecco wine route on throughthebunghole.com.[/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Verona in Veneto. I love this beautiful shot from Kristine Neeley's collection of Veneto pictures.[/caption]

White water tubing on the Potomac

Before this weekend, I'd been tubing twice. The first when I was 8 or 9 years old. I had a newly casted right arm, as I had broken it roller skating down a neighborhood hill. I took out a mailbox and my radius (or is it ulna?) in the process. We went vacationing in North Carolina, and I slid down the rapids holding my arm over my head, a trash bag tied around the cast billowing in the wind; I still smile at the memory. At least my mom never lost sight of me, right?

The next time, I was about 16. My brother and I drove up to Helen, GA. On the drive home, Chris told me stories of family history and drama that took place before I was born. The day remains etched in my mind, if not for the rapids than for the bonding.

This weekend marks my third tubing trip, this one on the Potomac, to celebrate Matt's 26th birthday. With neither a broken arm nor a family mystery unfolding before me, I could focus solely on the experience, and it was incredible.

River Riders showed Matt, Whitney, Ellie, Zander and I a five-minute video that equated white water tubing with death approximately 17 times, then piled us in a run-down school bus, handed us life vests and inflatable tubes and said, "Have at it!" Our guidance was this: we'll drop you off on the right side of the river. You need to be on the left. The trip should take about 2 hours.

Make that ~3.5 hours for us, since the first 45 minutes was spent paddling ourselves to the correct side of the river! Our arms were all a little sore the next day, but it was one of the best parts. Zander showed off his strength by propelling himself to the starting point within minutes of entering the water. Meanwhile... the rest of us laughed so hard our abs hurt while we flailed in the water, unable to gain momentum. Ellie finally gave up paddling herself, jumped out of the tube and swam the distance.

I was the runt of the group. No matter how much water I shoveled or how fast I rowed my arms, I couldn't keep up.

SO naturally hilarity ensued when the rest of the group hit the first rapids, and I came trailing behind minutes later, unable to propel myself the direction they did. My tube capsized, and I went flying into the water. I laughed so hard I swallowed water and emerged to the sound of their collective laughter on the rocks in the distance, where they all paused to wait for me.

The rest of the trip we fought to stay together with death grips on one another's tubes. We snaked down the river in a chain, kicking off rocks to keep from being beached, guffawing when it happened anyway and admiring the stunning views of Harpers Ferry above. It was a picture perfect summer day.

At only 90 minutes from D.C., Harpers Ferry is an incredible day trip. We chose River Riders because 1) we were all inexperienced and wanted to go through a company and 2) their entry point into the Potomac is a good 2 miles above other company's. It's $34 with tax and fees for white water tubing with a standard tube (no butt and no back). We stopped at Sheetz for lunch - a gas station with a shockingly tasty sandwich/wrap bar. I spent $10 for Zander and myself to have 6" subs, chips and drinks.

While the day was on the expensive side for me, $45 left me full, worn out and sun-kissed. It was a guilt-free, worth-every-penny splurge.

We're toying with the idea of buying our own tubes and researching entry points so we can go it alone (and cheaper) next time. I can't wait!

[caption id="attachment_18" align="aligncenter" width="538"] I love this picture of the Potomac from sueandstu.blogspot.com[/caption]

Vace is for lovers

Zander introduced me to Vace, the Cleveland Park (and Bethesda) Italian delicatessen and market, mere weeks into our burgeoning relationship. He didn't know it then, but with that innocuous move, my heart was his. I'm half-Italian by birthright and 100% by taste buds: Prosecco, prosciutto, pizza - vi amo!

On our (first) date night at Vace, we perused the small shop's large selection of house made sausage and pasta, marinara, olive oils and deli meats for ingredients to make homemade pizza. Our pizza was divine, but at $40, a splurge on only the best ingredients (goat cheese, mmmm!). Since then, we/I frequent it for my frequent pizza cravings.

In addition to deli items, they sell pizza by the slice and pie and sub sandwiches. A large (and it's BIG at 16"!) three topping runs us about $16 and is hands down my favorite pizza in D.C. Beware - they're light on the cheese and layer the sauce on top. It's a style I'd never had before but that has won me over. It's thin...ish crust. Simply put - it's heaven. The sandwiches stand on their own, as well - for $5.25, the 8" Italian hoagie can't be beat. As a side note - they don't have tables, this is a takeout restaurant/market.

Vace is 300 square feet of Italy, down to the Italian owners whose accents alone make me say, "Extra mozzarella, please" while fingertip kissing the air.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="480"] 3315 Connecticut Ave NW[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_7" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Zan's and my first homemade pizza - with Vace dough, sausage, pepperoni, sauce and fresh mozzarella and goat cheeses.[/caption]