The recent coverage of Joe Englert’s forthcoming H Street Country Club, the pool hall and putt-putt watering hole, has overlooked one important point: The operation will be located in the former space of Phish Tea Cafe, the sprawling, multi-level Caribbean restaurant and nightclub that was one of the pioneers of the H Street NE rebirth.

Opened in the spring of 2004, Phish Tea was apparently ahead of its time and behind on acquiring its liquor license. “I think they kind of did it before they had a liquor license,” Englert says. “They were a little bit behind the eight ball for, basically, their history.”

Phish Tea’s closing made me fret even more about the imbalance on H Street—too many bars, not enough restaurants—but Englert says not to worry. The second phase of his development plan includes more solids and less liquids. “The next few places are going to be much more restaurant-oriented,” Englert says. “By design, the first few we opened up are more tavern- and nightclub-oriented because you got to get people on the street first, and usually the younger people come first to a new nightlife area.”

The H Street Country Club itself will serve food in a 40-to-50-seat dining room, Englert says. Douglas Singer, chef for the Argonaut Tavern and Temperance Hall, two other Englert properties, will crank out burgers, dogs, Frito pies, and other “twists and turns on the American grill,” the owner says. Look for the Country Club to start mixing up grease, beer, and putters in July.

Here’s what else is on Englert’s menu for H Street NE:

• The Rock and Roll Hotel at 1353 H St. NE: The bar is set to launch a menu featuring Middle Eastern cuisine, with an emphasis on vegan and veg-friendly food.
• Sticky Rice at 1224 H St. NE: Englert is opening a D.C. outlet of the punkish, in-your-face Richmond, Va., sushi and noodle bar that peddles dishes such as “shiitake happens” and “drawn-and-buttered.” The white (rice) riot is scheduled to begin in June.
• Dr. Granville Moore’s at 1238 H St. NE: Named after the doctor who used to practice at the address, Dr. Granville Moore’s will be a no-frills operation serving Belgian food. It set to open in the spring.
• Ethnic Joints TBA: “I just purchased a property that I’m looking to put an Ethiopian restaurant into,” Englert says. “We’d like to build a little community of several small ethnic, affordable restaurants in the neighborhood.”

So long pingpong and bye-bye bocce. Mini golf, the kiddie game with the little clubs and the big windmills, is the hipster sport du jour. “It’ll blow it away, man,” says nightlife baron Joe Englert.

Sometime next summer, Englert plans to unveil H Street Country Club, a 7,000-square-foot bar/billiards hall/mini-golf course, at 1335 H St. NE. The new nightspot will be a “grand send-off of the Chevy Chase, you know, beautiful country club,” Englert says.

Talk about Englertrification.

According to Englert, H Street Country Club will be replete with “a lot of wood benches that resemble a locker room” and “a lot of plaid.” The food will be all-American, no-frills “picnic” fare, and the holes will be littered with D.C. memorabilia celebrating go-go greats and bands like Fugazi. “The Positive Force hole is really amazing,” he raves, adding that his eight-year-old daughter has been one of the course’s chief designers.

The only question is whether Englert will need a special set of permits to make his mini-golf dreams a reality. For example, says attorney Michael Fonseca, Englert might have to get a mechanical amusement license, which, “in the old days,” regulated video games and pinball machines. In D.C., everything from Pac Man to pool tables warrants a special license, he says.

Fred Moosally, general counsel for the Alcoholic Beverage Control Board, says there’s no precedent for establishments serving up booze and golf balls. “We don’t have any miniature golf bars,” he says.

Stay tuned.

H Street NE folks these days are trying to push through a ban on single sales of beer at certain outlets, a gentrifying tradition of sorts in the District. The NIMBYs along H are following the lead of like-minded revitalizers along the city’s gentrification belt—including, of course, those in Mount Pleasant and along Georgia Avenue—in taking aim at people they believe are dragging the ‘hood down. Bums, that is, whose lifestyle they believe would take a hit if they couldn’t access single beers.

Well, I’m gainfully employed, and I love the single beer. I must confess that years ago, I didn’t see the point. If I bought beer, it was either in a six-pack, case, or keg. That’s because I was generally consuming it with friends or at a party. I agreed with the activists that the single was for folks who’d most likely down their beer out on the street.

Now, though, I am married, and a big can of Corona or Heineken has become a perfect dinner libation for the Mr. and Mrs. At least five times over the past year, I’ve picked up singles from either Cairo Liquor or Best-In Liquors, in Dupont and Logan Circles, respectively. I could buy a six, but that’s too heavy and cumbersome and expensive, and I don’t need to keep the fridge stocked with beer. I could buy a keg, but I don’t have a bar, entertainment center, or tap, so that’s not an option. I want my singles. And if I should ever move to H Street, I’ll want my singles there as well.

In the mid-’90s, a big debate within City Paper unfolded over just this issue. I argued that the ban was reasonable. A colleague of mine, the astute John Cloud, responded, “Sometimes, you just want one.”

Chef Harry DaCosta has walked by the Ohio Restaurant and Bar every day since the soul food purveyor’s co-owner, Betty Ayele, was shot to death on Oct. 26 Oct. 25* while idling in her car at a stoplight in Alexandria. He says it’s been difficult to get back behind the grill since the killing. “Her personality drew people in,” DaCosta says, adding that the Ohio has only been open intermittently since Ayele’s death.

On Tuesday afternoon, DaCosta was making his daily pilgrimage to the Ohio, just to check up on things. It was closed, but mourners continued to leave handwritten notes on a placard tied to the metal bars of the main entrance. One wished Ayele “travel on smoother seas.” Another wanted to know when and where the funeral was, and then left a phone number. The H Street Merchants Association had placed a stand of yellow flowers—arranged, strangely, to spell “H St.”—in front of the restaurant. And DaCosta himself had left a tapered pink candle burning in memory of Ayele.

“We were always fussin’,” the chef admitted about his relationship with his frequently bossy boss. “She was more like a sister than a boss.” DaCosta said he plans to serve a dinner in Ayele’s memory sometime over the weekend at the Ohio, which should resume full-time operations on Thursday.

The chef then noted that his cooking is even better than it was when we first reviewed the Ohio back in July.

CORRECTION, 11/2: Ayele was killed on Oct. 25, not the 26th.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what’s going on in local Internet discussion groups.

TMOTTGoGo Community Forum Board
Denizens of TMOTTGoGo—that’d be Take Me Out To The GoGo for all you knuckleheads—discuss the pertinent issues of the day. “LLEM,” says King. “LMMFAO,” says BUCKSHOT. “GTHOH!!!!!!!!” says Da Remixx. “MODEL JOANT!!!!!…Butta cranks.…WOW!!!!!!!!” says #02. “*chiggity*…Huh?” asks Hatee. “Pressed ass!” says Chipster. “WHAT HE SAID!!!!!,” says #02. “My GAWD woman!!!!! You don’t wanna know what I’ve saying over here!!,” says Jay113. “WHAT HE SAID AGAIN!!!!!!” repeats #02. “DAYUM RIGHT!!” says momma.honey. “to the utmost!!!!!!!!” says Da Remixx. “holllaaaaa!” asks Chipster. “SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDD!!!!!!” says Peaches_Baby. “lunch time,” says Xenobia.

psa105
Posts on this crime forum continue to suggest that Capitol Hill residents believe the earth, in fact, does revolve around a large, really cute golden retriever. “Saturday night in Marion Park, two police officers drew their guns when a friendly, non-barking dog ran towards them. One officer pointed the gun at the dog and the other waved his gun in the air,” writes kennedym. And that was wrong: “[W]hy would anyone, police or not, who is afraid of dogs walk through Marion Park in the evening, when so many people are walking their dogs? Is this a training issue?” PTLdogs, however, takes exception to the idea that dogs should have their own police force. “I [am] a 19 year resident of the District and the fact that you would even ask this question is troubling.…There is not a sign on the side of dogs that says ‘this one is friendly.’” In retort, kennedym posts the following Rules of Canine Engagement from the Humane Society of the USA: “Remain motionless, hands at your sides.…If the dog does attack, ‘feed’ him your jacket, purse, bicycle, or anything that you can put between yourself and the dog,” and “curl into a ball with your hands over your ears and remain motionless.” Got that, officer?

hstreetdc
On Behalf Of Marilyn has people hanging out in front of her house drinking sack beers—they obviously need to go. “I’ve only had to do it a couple of times,” says Sharon, “but I’ve found playing classical music very loudly, with the speakers pointing toward the windows works very well.” And Richard takes the joke too far, suggesting a Barry Manilow assault. “[T]hen again,” he reconsiders, “listening to ‘Mandy’ over and over ought to set anybody on edge, regardless of their musical preferences.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what’s going on in local Internet discussion groups.

ustreetnews
If you’re a beat cop, what’s worse than getting chewed out by your commander? How about getting showed up by him at a crime scene. According to Councilmember Jim Graham, after a woman was robbed by a BB-gun-toting perp in Mount Pleasant, police found the firearm in a nearby abandoned house. Once 3rd District Commander Larry McCoy got a looksy at the gun, he “went to the house, talked to the officers, saw the gun and some stolen property.” The way Graham tells it, McCoy then showed the investigative scruples that had apparently eluded his officers: “McCoy asked if anyone had gone upstairs to make sure nobody else was in the house. There were holes through the floor, and the staircase was unstable. Yet, he went up the stairs. Commander McCoy found the suspect hiding in a back room. He was identified as Paul Henderson, a registered sex offender with a lengthy record. Henderson had a crack pipe in his hand.”

MPD-4D
Careful where you mark your territory in Petworth. According to a 4th District crime report, on Aug. 17 a man “was urinating in the alley, when a white truck pulled up. [The suspect] exited the vehicle, asked [the victim] why was [he] peeing on the side of his house.” The suspect then took “an [unknown] object and struck [the victim] in the head causing injury, while [the driver] sat in the truck. [The victim says that] while running to his vehicle, [the suspect] took an object & struck his vehicle causing damage. [The suspect and his driver] fled westbound into the 700 blk of Kennedy St. NW.”

hstreetdc
“I think having a block party or at least the concept is really a good idea,” one resident carefully writes of an upcoming bash just off H Street NE. Then comes the catch: “I think the parking rules are inconvenient and as a working resident, I do my shopping and normal house errands on Saturday.” In a response entitled “Sour Grapes,” party booster stainless_steel_justis plays the role of welcome wagon: “Good grief, it’s just one day, get over it.…Also, why not just take a moment to meet your neighbors, then maybe you will be included in the planning next time.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what’s going on in local Internet discussion groups.

ANC-6A
One thread became a real pissing contest when the issue of racism in D.C. came up. Richard Layman posted this anecdote: “Yesterday I got into an argument with a guy urinating in the alley. His response ‘It’s none of your business…white people don’t own everything.’ I responded ‘I don’t own s****. But I can smell your urine. Furthermore, there’s a field behind you and urine doesn’t smell nearly as bad on organic material. It does on the brick and it ruins urine.’ Pissing in an alley isn’t about race, is it?” Sharon Cochran shot back with: “I’m not sure what your point is. I’ve seen many a guy pissing in public all over this city. I assumed it was because guys thought that they owned everything, and felt a need to mark their territory.”

Brookland
“For some of us Poetry is the sweetest thing around. But we realize that for many, somewhere along the way a horrible taste was left in your mouth about poetry,” reads a posting advertising Brookland Area Writers & Artists’ May 5 May 3 “Poetry Like Chocolate” event. “Maybe it was being forced to listen to poems and then dissect them like frogs in a science class. Instead of just enjoying the sound and ideas and spirit of the thing. Perhaps the bad taste dates back to when you had to memorize the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, or Beowulf, or part of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (in the original tongue) in elementary school, or junior high, or high school?…What will it take to get you to poetry again?” As it happens, they’re banking on “fine single origin chocolate…from Equador, Belgium, and France.”

cleveland-park
A query yesterday morning from Kimberly Hasenberg: “Where would you recommend for tea for a friend’s birthday other than Four Seasons and the Ritz? (Hay Adams doesn’t do it anymore).”