The District

Having spent many hours as a youngster in and around the fine institutions that line our National Mall, I felt a distinct nostalgia upon returning to our fair Capital for the first time in over a decade. K and I met up with the amazing Piderclan (AP, V, and lil' O) for some good old-fashioned sightseein'. Of course wandering around enormous museums hungry is near suicidal, so before being reunited with outdated dioramas, preserved giant squid, and suspended airplanes we stopped at Lincoln's Waffle Shop for a greasy desayuno. Situated across the calle from Ford's Theatre and directly next door to the casa that he died in, Lincoln would have surely come here for a syrupy stack after watching "Our American Cousin" had he not been so inconveniently shot behind the left oreja. Besides serving decent blue-plate specials, Lincoln's does a bustling lottery business but what really makes this diner unique (as V found out) is the full bar in the basement complete with some Capitol Hill suits soaking up their morning suds.

 After a long day of learnin' stuff, K and I parted ways with our little tour group and hightailed it down to the Potomac waterfront (still ahead of rush hour) for an express blue crab feast. We hit the cooked seafood stand and made our way to the floating 'eat-in' patio with a dozen crabs (Old Bay seasoned), a throwaway mallet, and a sackful of hushpuppies. I managed to occasionally glance up at the afternoon tour boats as a break in our mechanical routine of cracking shells and pinching meat (with frequent dips in the vinegar cup). Following a much needed hand washing, we flew across the George Mason Bridge leaving the Pentagon in our dust, heading south and out of sight. Next time in town I'll be sure to have West African comida on the radar. Until then, godspeed D.C.