Kitchen Wench

Since moving here a year and a half ago, I’ve heard that H St NE (a small stretch of bars and clubs between 12^th and 14^th and H) is the next rapidly gentrifying hot spot. The two block strip, across from an Autozone and several fried chicken/subs/Chinese food/seafood carry out joints, is the baby of DC nightlife mogul, Joe Englert. You’ve probably gone all sloppy-faced at his joints and didn’t even know it (Lucky Bar, The Big Hunt, Pour House, DC9… the list goes on). For better or for worse, he knows what he’s doing.

My first trip to H St occurred several months ago in the form of dinner at Dr. Granville Moore’s and local band night at Rock and Roll Hotel. I’ll admit, I was kind of stressing out. I find that DC nightlife can be rather depressing due to certain breed of suburbanite that flocks to Georgetown and Adams Morgan on the weekend, acts like an obnoxious, then drives drunkenly home, thankful they don’t actually live in the scary city.

But I also keep reading about this mythical creature known as the DC hipster (or “hip-tard” by so-called suburban haters), mostly in the DCist comments threads. Since H St is still a little rough, I figured it might have just enough street cred to keep the striped shirt crew away. Like, there might actually be cool people there. People so cool, they would take one look at me and know that I wasn’t cool enough. I might walk into Granville Moore’s and encounter a sea of shrunken striped sweaters, unwashed hair, and Chuck Taylors. I obsessed that my poser status might be given away due to my lack of canvas messenger bag and 1970s ski vest.

It turns out that H St is cool. But not in the way I was expecting.

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I can’t believe I haven’t posted in this since Shanghai. That’s shameful. Here’s a brief tour of what happened in the last two weeks.

I returned to Beijing for my final week and spent most of it buying a new wardrobe for myself, swing dancing multiple nights a week, and eating all my favorite foods for one last time (sizzling eggplant with lots of garlic and minced pork, crispy Japanese tofu in sweet and sour sauce, Korean bbq, bottled green tea, and “plain” yogurt that tastes just like a sweet Indian lassi).

I spent my last 4 days in Hong Kong, with a day trip to Macau, which has some fascinating history and a whole lot of casinos. In Hong Kong I ate Indian food twice–at the Delhi Club in Chungking Mansions and at Branto (all veg) on Lock St in Tsim Sha Tsui. I cannot get over how much they’ve cleaned up Chungking Mansions (this slummy block of old apartments and the only place to find “cheap” hostels, mostly inhabitated by East Indian and African folk). It’s better lit; the floor isn’t sticky; there’s much less hawking; and there are security guards that help you navigate the weird maze of buildings, shops, and elevators that only go to odd or even floors. I suppose it’s for the best, but part of the charm was the weird, sketchiness of the place. It’s worth a visit in any case, though I really liked the food at Branto, and the atmosphere was nicer. They had delicious fresh mango lassis.

I also had my fill of dim sum and ate 3 servings of mango pudding in 3 days. Hong Kong is definately not designed to be eye-level; all these great restaurants are tucked away on the 2nd floor of rather run-down buildings. Half the time I walk past the signs because I forget to look up.

One thing I love are all the fruit juice stands on the street. For 5 or 6 HKD you can get freshly squeezed juice, smoothies, and tapioca drinks. There are also all sorts of little dessert shops (in TST and also dotted around Mongkok) that specialize in various fruit and geletin concoctions. They’re delicious on a hot, sticky day (which is most days in Hong Kong).

But, the bottom line is, it’s all over now.  I’m back home and recovering from my jetlag. I think my life might suddenly become a lot less interesting. We’ll see.