(202) 637-1222

Rasika has done something to Indian food that it seems like no one else has: It’s made it modern. And, apparently, that’s what people have been dying for. “I lunched at Rasika for Restaurant Week and was extremely pleased.” “From the modern décor, including glass chandelier beads as a room divider, to the conversation-piece silverware to the knowledgeable waiter to the “where do I begin” comprehensive menu and subsequent exceptional quality food, Rasika lived up to everything I’d already heard about it.” “Rasika is a phenomenal restaurant-one of my favorite dining destinations in D.C.” “The menu is familiar to those who already love Indian food but includes dishes never before seen in a traditional Indian restaurant: asparagus uttapam (from the griddle section), sliced asparagus with spices served over a rice lentil pancake with coconut chutney (my favorite of the three small dishes I tried); broccoli cashewnut poriyal (a vegetarian entree or side).” “Their palak chaat is incredible and a must-have. It is one of those dishes that you will have cravings for.” The service lives up to the food. “The food is visually stunning and service is great. The sommelier is particularly helpful and they have a great selection of wines to complement their menu.” “The service was really fantastic. Our server brought me a second diet Coke before I had even finished half of my first!... I filled up on half of my lamb, and was given extra naan and rice to accompany my leftovers at home.” “There’s nothing I’d change about Rasika—except its popularity; this was the first time I could get a reservation on a choice night with less than a month’s notice.”

(202) 232-1322

If Old City Café’ falafel bar seems suspiciously similar in style and spirit to another, Adams Morgan-based falafel joint, there’s a reason. Before striking out to start his own business, Old City founder Walid Abuelhawa was a chef at neighboring Amsterdam Falafelshop. As a result, it’s difficult to tell the two establishments apart based on cuisine alone. Both function on the same do-it-yourself toppings-bar concept and, for the most part, the same toppings are represented—from the fried cauliflower to the Turkish salad. So picking a favorite is more a question of politics. Do you want falafel as product of imperialism: with cramped quarters and headshop palm cards as décor? Or do you prefer to consume your falafel in an environment that more closely represents the food’s Middle Eastern cultural origin: a dark and expansive restaurant with nary a pack of spent zig zags in sight. If you’re feeling the latter, choose Old City Café. —Aaron Leitko

(202) 483-4441

Aside from mainlining blubber directly into your veins, fried dough might be the worst thing that you can put into your body. But if you’re willing to sacrifice some of the remaining elasticity in your arteries, Churreria Madrid’s churros are worth a try. You certainly get a lot for your money: A plate of 10 or so sugar-covered eyelets of fried-to-order dough runs about $3 and if you aren’t enough of a glutton to finish them all at the table, they still taste surprisingly good a few hours later after the grease has cooled. They’re definitely a step up from the stale, sugary ropes that popularized the churro as a staple of boardwalk-and-zoo cuisine. Dinner, however, made less engaging use of hot oil. A plate consisting of fried eggs, fried peppers, fried potatoes, and Spanish sausage was soggy with grease, even by the standards and expectations of an entirely fried entree. —Aaron Leitko

*Don't buy any tomato larger than a grape before July. Right now, in fact, is the worst time of the year to be bothering with tomatoes. Grape tomatoes: The only variety that's good year-round.

*Stay healthy. If you're cooking meat, or anything that has bacteria, you got issues, because your hands can be carrying that nasty stuff. One point of concern is that you'll put those bacteria on your sink fixtures when you go to wash your hands. Solution: Get a sink pedal.

*If you want to add protein to dishes in which it's scarce, take out that Cuisinart and prepare to puree. Tofu in its near-liquid form folds nicely into guacamole and hummus, not to mention vodka sauce, as a substitute for cream.

*The ultimate virgin olive oil: Yellingbo, from Australia.

Last Thursday night, Robinson received a series of harassing cell phone calls from his ex-girlfriend's current boyfriend while sitting on the Metrobus near the Anacostia Metro station. He decided then and there that he was going settle his differences with the man. He told the man the two needed to meet.

Robinson got off the bus and went looking for the boyfriend. He soon found his ex and her new man driving nearby. When the boyfriend saw Robinson, he jumped out of the car and the two got into it.

Robinson, a big guy who a faded tattoo on his left arm, says he hit the man in his mouth.

"My fist may have been cut by his teeth," he explains.

By Sunday afternoon, the cuts on his hand had become infected and required a hospital visit. He needed surgery. "They cut into my hand and cleaned out the infection," Robinson says.

Robinson's hand now looks like a snowball; his fingers have disappeared under a mass of white gauze. He can't do anything with that hand. He's still at the hospital waiting for it to heal.

This morning while sitting in his room, which he calls his "dungeon," Robinson faced down breakfast with his new handicap–eating with his left hand. He tried scooping scrambled eggs, though not without some difficulty.The food kept falling off his utensils. Eating was slow and frustrating and messy.

Robinson admits he hasn't been eating much anyway: "I lost my appetite–just doing a lot of heavy thinking. How this happened, what I have to do, the things that led me up to where I am right now. I made a mistake. The mistake I made was by getting off the bus."

Robinson, who grew up in northwest, says he's been fighting pretty much all his life. His last fight was four years ago inside the D.C. jail's basketball court. It was over who had a next game.

"I'm a changed man. I took my GED test March 21," Robinson says. "I passed everything but the math. I'm scheduled to go to college. Fifteen percent of my life I've been a jive-ass criminal. I let myself down by fighting."

Robinson hopes he can retire his mean right hook. "There's so much I want to do," he explains. "But my desire is to drive a Metrobus; get a college degree and drive a Metrobus."

Reported by Jason Cherkis

Lunch is an ideal time to escape the cold realities of "hell," as one of them terms the VA location. Sit back, enjoy a good meal, shoot the shit.

Yet there's no escape to be had at the VA's cafeteria, in the view of Thomas and Boaz. "There's always someone complaining about something," says Boaz. The food's not too good, either.

And so every couple of days, Thomas and Boaz rev up their motorized wheelchairs, hit the concrete, and wheel on down to the Washington Hospital Center cafeteria, where a whole new lunchtime world opens up for them. Says Thomas: "The people who serve you the food are nice. They greet you with a smile. It makes a hell of a lot of difference." A highlight today: An employee of the WHC cafeteria arranged their table so that they could fit their wheelchairs under it. Don't get that kind of service at the VA.

On this outing. Thomas is enjoying a fried shrimp dish and some fries; Boaz is working the chicken alfredo and a cheesecake, along with a fruit crisp. Both declare their meals "excellent."

At just after 2:00 p.m., the two men wheel out of the cafeteria en route back to their low-morale bastion. They'll make the quarter-mile trip really fast, because they've souped up their wheelchairs. Asked how they managed such a feat, they decline comment.

Reporting by Jason Cherkis

A woman at the Subway sandwich shop on Good Hope Road SE has a special request. She wants the $5 footlong sub, with a twist. She wants to switch out the ham in the footlong club for the roast beef. That's an upgrade—only eight sub categories are eligible for the $5 come-on.

The request puts sandwich maker Farzana Afroz in something of a pickle. Should she just fill the order or raise the menu exception with the manager?

She opts for the dutiful-employee route, which ends in a no-dice ruling from the manager. When Afroz returns to her customer with the bad news, the customer cites precedence over policy. "They always do this for me here. I wouldn't come in here and ask if they hadn't done it for me before," she says. Thereupon, she storms out of the Anacostia Subway.

How did Afroz end up on the receiving end of customer tirades on this still-downtrodden strip? The recession, of course. She used to work at the Burlington Coat Factory, but then her hours got cut. She needed full-time work, in part because her husband, who formerly worked at 7-11, has no job. Afroz, her husband, and her manager at Subway are all from Bangladesh. She has two kids, a 13-year-old daughter and a 10-year-old son.

Along with the bus-train-bus commute, the clientele takes its toll on Afroz. Asked if she has other encounters like the one with the upgrade-seeking woman, Afroz remarks, "Always. Some people who know me and come in here, they are nice. Other people, not nice," she says.

Reporting by Jule Banville

David Mandell, a consultant at BEA on M St., has worked in the area since 2002. When making a Subway run, he tries to get there before 11:30. After that, the line stretches through the restaurant to the very back, by the bathrooms. Today, he managed to make it to the front in relatively quick order with daughters Carly, 12, and Sarah, 13, who are accompanying him as part of Take Your Daughter(s) to Work day.

With his ID card on a lanyard and safely tucked into his front pocket, Mandell waxes on about the way things used to be near the Navy Yard: "nothing but burned out buildings." He credits the Nats for bringing the area's only decent sandwich shop. "The ball park has changed everything around here," he says.

Carly and Sarah don't seemed terribly jazzed. Both describe spending the day with dad as an equal mix of being bored and impressed (the latter adjective clearly used to please Dad, who did buy lunch after all.)

Reporting by Jule Banville.

Here's the knowledge:

*Meatloaf, if cooked in a normal, average loaf pan, will take an hour to cook. Timesaver: Cook it in a muffin tin. Twenty minutes, tops.

For a patient's loved ones, something as involved as a catheterization procedure translates into lots of down time at the hospital, which in turn translates into multiple trips to the cafeteria. Glenda and Terry this morning went with the breakfast buffet, choosing bacon, eggs, and toast.

At lunch, the choices were an Italian sub (Glenda) and a cold-cut sub (Terry). Both found the food satisfying, if not quite critical. "I'm not going to get anything else to eat. I didn't want that. I was bored, wanted something to do," says Glenda of the Italian sub.

There wasn't a lot of stress at the cafeteria table: They'd gotten the news that Larry didn't have any blockages. He's 5-foot-11, 220 pounds and has a job working with computers. "He don't do nothing—believe me," says Glenda. Though the fam may come soon for another test, Glenda has some advice of her own. "I think if he just loses ten pounds, he'll feel better. It's not like he's really big, but he's bigger than he was."