Bummed about the Twinkies bankruptcy? Head to Ted's Bulletin for the "reverse" version—the filling’s on the outside, not within the cake. [WaPo]

Take a peek inside Mintwood Place [Eater DC]

Fruit Bat has a new cocktails menu. [Frozen Tropics]

Talk about sharing the wealth: President Barack Obama apparently isn't at all selfish with his french fries: "He actually asked if we wanted some." [The Republic]

Here's a romantic, if not gushing, take on restaurant week. [Express Night Out]

Even rich movie stars appreciate prix-fixe specials: Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie partake in restaurant week at Charlie Palmer Steak. (Well, he had the steak, she got the chicken.) [Washingtonian]

Former Jaleo and Zaytinya manager David Batista talks about his plans for All Souls in Shaw. [Prince of Petworth]

Photo courtesy of Ted's Bulletin

What do you think? Would Salvador Dali approve?

Yes, this is a disadvantage. A lot of the best and most innovative food traditions come from people with limited budgets: if you can afford the best (most expensive) ingredients, it's not hard to make an edible meal. Creating something tasty with humble foods is a lot harder. D.C. as, the wealthiest city in the country by some measures, is a place where Jose Andres' mini-empire of small plates places — which I like — passes as "cheap" even though my last simple dinner for two at one of them (without alcohol) came in at over $100. Andres is a great talent but, in a less well-off town, food like his might actually be more widespread.

Do you agree? Are deep-pocketed Washingtonians stifling the city's gustatory development?

Photo by Tamorlan/Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license

In the rarified world of restaurant criticism, it was once customary to wait a few months after a restaurant’s opening before reviewing the place—long enough to let staffers work out the kinks that critics will inevitably savage. By most rights, a heralded chef like José Andrés would be offered such a courtesy even today, in an age of blogs and Yelp and other venues for immediate feedback.

Alas, Andrés’ latest venture, America Eats Tavern, would be most of the way through its run before it got any attention from a critic from the old school: The pop-up restaurant is being operated in conjunction with a National Archives exhibition on U.S. culinary history. Instead of becoming a local fixture along the lines of Andrés’ Jaleo or Zaytinya, America Eats is currently slated to last only as long as the exhibition.

Which means I had little time to waste in ordering myself a $14 peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With foie gras, of course.

This precious little piece of Americana is a prime example of how Andrés’ temporary eatery, located in the former Café Atlántico space in Penn Quarter and featuring a menu culled from archival cookbooks, simultaneously delights, enlightens, and perplexes.

The sandwich is wistful! The artisanal peanut butter and blackberry jam, which ooze from inside, harken back to the days before Skippy and Smuckers dominated the sandwich-spread scene. And the bread, meanwhile, buttered and toasted to tasty effect, is sealed along the edges, recalling the childish practice of having the crusts cut off.

The sandwich is whimsical! For an added touch of nostalgia, the PB&J arrives with a small container of milk and a straw for easy sipping.

And the sandwich is wildly astronomical! You could buy an entire loaf of bread, a sizeable can of Jif, and a whole jar of jelly for the cost of one of Andres’ creations—and the resulting homemade sandwiches would at least be big enough to trade for something good on the elementary school playground.

True, Andrés’ version might not be the most expensive PB&J, and fattened goose liver in U.S. history: A New York restaurateur once charged $21 for a similar foie gras and nut butter sandwich. But, in this age of austerity, the kitchy aggrandizing of a third-graders’ lunch seems tone-deaf—even if it is quite tasty. Thankfully, more cost-conscious culinary history buffs can order a down-market version, sans the foie gras, for $10.

Like many entrees at the new eatery, the gussied-up PB&J is intended as a celebration of American culinary innovation. As you learn from scanning the menu, the first known recipe appeared in 1896, when Helen Louise Johnson, memorialized as an “enterprising housekeeper,” dished up her formula for “Sweet and Nut Sandwiches.”

And, like so many American success stories, the sandwich’s humble origins were quickly directed toward corporate profit: Johnson’s recipe, the menu further explains, was published by the manufacturers of a hand-crank nut grinder hoping to cash in on her creativity.

Further menu scanning reveals that corporate sponsorship is by no means confined to the past. As disclosed in a footnote—yes, pupils, your menu has footnotes—America Eats is itself made possible via the financial contributions of the Dole Foods Company.

Flush with sponsor cash and fresh off his James Beard Award for outstanding chef, Andrés announced the America Eats concept in mid-May, vowing to demonstrate that “this country is more than hot dogs and burgers.” Based on Andrés’ menu, it’s also fried chicken and eight styles of watery ketchups, ranging in flavor from anchovy to mushroom.

The charismatic cook headed into the project with a wave of momentum and some fancy new headgear to boot. The dapper newsboy cap now seemingly cemented to his scalp as he parades around the restaurant and promotes the place across televisions nationwide—“I got this in New York,” the proud chef told me at a post-award cocktail reception—turns out to be an apt choice. Once fashionable around the turn of the 20th century, the hat has regained popularity in hipster circles in recent years, kind of like what the chef is now attempting to do with the America Eats menu.

In some cases, the hat is probably an easier sell.

Staffers from Andrés’ Think Food Group spent weeks at the Library of Congress combing antique texts for recipes. They discovered some interesting things: the Hangtown fry, for instance, was named for a rough-and-tumble California gold-mining town in the 1840s, when eating fried oysters mixed with scrambled eggs and bacon connoted status and wealth. Decadent back in the day, the dish as presented here seems better suited for Denny’s. It tastes fishy and seems like a waste of seafood that would be better served on the half shell, or grilled with butter (both of which, in fact, America Eats does pretty well).

One of the most obscure menu listings, the Kentucky-style burgoo, has proven so tricky to recreate that the restaurant has yet to actually serve it. Ask about this rustic stew, however, and you get a good sense of just how educated the staff has become in a very short amount of time. (The conversion from Atlántico, with its garish orange walls, into the minimalist stark white, almost museum-like motif of America Eats, took less than a month.) One manager related to me how incorporating the stew’s traditional elements of squirrel and blackbird would be illegal under current hunting laws. Andrés plans to use rabbit, squab, and lamb instead.

The overall menu seems ambitious for an impermanent concept. The sheer breadth of the offerings only heightens speculation that this supposed pop-up could pop-up again after its planned six-month run. There are 40 different items on the dinner menu, plus additional offerings downstairs in the bar; they generally skew heavily toward seafood, to the virtual exclusion of pork. Oysters, for one thing, are prepared seven different ways.

Navigating the sprawling list can be frustrating, even for those inclined to be charitable toward a new venue. Some items were simply unavailable; others were said to be only available on certain days.

The mishmash of genres, eras and places of origin, meanwhile, provides for some interesting order combinations: Pickled oysters and buffalo wings, anyone?

The wings actually turn out to be among the more enjoyable things on the menu. Served boneless, the saucy meat is topped with a tiny dab of blue cheese hidden under a pile of pickled celery.

In fact, diners will find a plethora of pickled items on various plates, from sweetly preserved watermelon bits accompanying the crab cakes to the pickled peppers served alongside the jambalaya.

That jambalaya seems to be an Andrés favorite: Of all the entrees he talked up before the restaurant’s hugely ballyhooed July 4 opening, Andrés spoke most proudly of the his take on the Creole standby. Vowing to uphold the integrity of the “holy trinity” ingredients of onion, celery and pepper, Andrés also pledged to pay strict attention to the rice, specifically sourcing one of the original varieties first planted in South Carolina.

I’d have liked for him to pay more attention to the spice. As the server opened the steaming pot and plated the stuff tableside, unleashing the dish’s savory aroma, I could barely wait to taste Andrés’ hearty arrangement of crawfish, shrimp, sausage, and chicken. Then I took a bite and was under-whelmed by its mild flavor.

My dining companion and I were not the only ones steaming about the lack of heat. During a return visit, a nearby patron was similarly taken aback by its blandness. “I wanted to be slapped in the face,” she told me, “you know, in a good way.”

Thankfully, the jambalaya, priced at $36, comes with a dish of Cajun spices—kind of like the bottle of hot sauce you get at the nearest Chipotle, albeit at a different price point.

Another disappointment: the deconstructed clam chowder, priced at $28. The dish arrived beautifully arranged, with a chunk of cod, cubes of potato, bits of bacon, and three juicy clams. A server sauced the dish tableside, adding its creamy broth. It’s a wonderful array of flavors—but they never really get a chance to mix, which makes the dish rather boring.

Rather than play it safe by sending up these predictable staples, I’d have much rather seen Andrés devote his well-documented genius to riffing on some of the more bizarre elements of American food history. The National Archives’ accompanying exhibition, “What’s Cooking, Uncle Sam?,” offers some intriguing possibilities: I mean, just imagine what the guy who pioneered the dragon’s breath popcorn might do with the concept of the “vitamin donut.”

Photos by Darrow Montgomery

America Eats, 405 8th St. NW, (202) 393-0812

Eatery tips? Food pursuits? Send suggestions to hungry@washingtoncitypaper.com.

It's not surprising that the long-celebrated Jaleo made it twice onto the list for best vegetarian sandwich. Spanish cuisine, at least under José Andrés' knife, celebrates vegetables. Small-plate-serving restaurants become quick friends of the non-meat eater. Drawing from a few different dishes of food makes for a fun, adventurous and varied way to eat a meal. But looking beyond the tapas portion of the menu is a safe bet at Jaleo.

I've already anointed Jaleo's Grilled Cheese with Manchego, Murcia, Valdeón, and goat cheese with truffle oil as the winner of the Comments Come True: Battle of the Grilled Cheese. While it's hard to live up to four types of cheese together in one sandwich, the Vegetable Bocata makes its case with an assortment of tender vegetables (asparagus, roasted peppers, onion and spinach), combined with Manchego cheese and served with an addicting romesco sauce. You'll want to save the bread, meant for a dredge in olive oil, and use it for any leftovers of the tomato-based sauce blended with peppers, almonds and hazelnuts. 

This pressed sandwich stays together, thankfully, a fate that many veggie sandwiches cannot fulfill. It's also filling (says my meat-eater friend), which is another common complaint bestowed upon meatless sandwiches. And, priced at $9.50, it surely beats the uninspired deli meat sandwich at many of the over-priced lunch counters downtown, usually costing about the same.

In order of appearance in the comments:

1. Cork Market
2. Cowgirl Creamery
3. Busboys and Poets (sandwich 1) (sandwich 2)
4. Taylor Gourmet (sandwich 1)  (sandwich 2)
5. Booeymonger
6. Pret a Manger
7. California Tortilla
8. Jaleo (sandwich 1) (sandwich 2)
9. Highland Cafe
10. Jimmy John's
11. Greek Spot
12. Sticky Fingers
13. Earl's
14. Yum's
15. Super Taco
16. Luna Grill
17. Five Guys
18. Sidamo
19. Everlasting Life
20. Au Bon Pain
21. Devon & Blakely
22. Corner Bakery
23. Potbelly
24. Black Squirrel

Photo by Stefanie Gans

Short ribs and baby octopus may dominate many menus in the city, but that doesn't mean local chefs can't find love in an acorn squash. In our ongoing series,

• Name: Byron Brown
• Title: Executive Chef and Producer
• Restaurant: Sensorium, "A 12-course meal interwoven with vinettes which are prodcued to heighten the culinary senses."
• Twitter: @DCSupperClub
• Cooking Career: Professionally for 4 years. "I worked at Jaleo, Rustico and staged at Cork and Minibar, which taught me showmanship and molecular gastronomy."
• Random Fact: "I used to work for an association doing advocacy for higher education. It was right before the economic downturn and I had a narcissistic boss. I had an opportunity to bow out and I did. I changed careers and it's been a radical sabatical for me."
• Favorite Vegetable: Artichokes. "The artichoke is one of those ingredients that is so mythical. The thing about this flower is it's so versatile. It's the marker for the spring—it sparks culinary inspiration after a hard, cold winter. My favorite way to cook it is steam it and make some butter-lemon sauce. It's like opening up this present that gives you a little taste. And then you get to the heart, it's like you get to eat this love. The leaves are a good crumb along the way. Follow the yellow brick road."

• Least Favorite Vegetable: Endive. "My least favorite vegetables are the ones that are more challenging to display in cuisines, such as the sort of bitter vegetables, like endives. It's challenging to highlight it because it's so bitter. You put salt and oil on a regular vegetable and they could rock it. Endives need a partner."
• Memorable Meatless Dish: "Me and my wife went to India and went down the Kerala. It's a region that has the largest amount of rivers and streams and in the olden days they used the water for moving things across the country. When the industrial age hit, these ships didn't have a use so they were converted to house boats. If you go there for vacation you could rent them out: they have kitchens, TVs, beds, baths and sometimes private chefs. The best food I had on the boat house was ivly. It's like a fluffy dumpling—a small, little thing with rice flour dough consistency. They give you lentil-based sauces to eat it up with certain vegetables, like cabbage. It's the Indian version of dim sum. I don't know what the hell was in them, but they were spiced heavily. In Europe we highlight vegetables; in India they highlight spices."
• Best Vegetable Dish at Sensorium: "Cauliflower trio, utilizing four different colors of cauliflower with four different methods."
• Quick and Dirty Meatless Idea: "My wife is Indian (and a vegetarian) and I make her chana masala. Take garbonza beans from the can, add masala spices, onions, turmeric and tamarind sauce. You can even cheat sometimes and get store-made biscuits and dip them into the sauce."

Photo Courtesy of Stacey Viera

Eating my way through your advice, an ambitious list of vegetarian sandwiches from 24 different restaurants. More Comments Come True.

I witnessed the glory and gluttony that is a vegetarian who refuses to eat vegetables. I don't want a grilled cheese sandwich every time I crave a meatless sandwich. Sometimes, though, that is exactly what I want. While a true DMV-wide grilled cheese search is in order, I'm testing the ones readers submitted—from Sticky Fingers Bakery, Five Guys Burgers &Fries, Busboys and Poets, and Jaleo—as a great alternative to boring veggie-filled vegetarian sandwiches.

Where: Sticky Fingers
What: Grilled Diya (original comment).
Bread: Multi-grain, from Lyon Bakeries.
Cheesiness: A mix of shredded mozzarella and cheddar, from Daiya. This vegan cheese didn't allow for the gooey, melty factor, much need for a proper grilled cheese: when tearing the two halves apart there weren't those "strings" of cheese. The flavor of the cheese was pretty bland, but I'm also not used to vegan cheese.
Extras: Because it was a vegan sandwich (and, again, I'm not used to vegan cheese) I figured the cheese needed as much help as it could get and ordered it with all of the available toppings. But, none of them helped – the tomatoes were flagrantly mealy, the onions were mostly raw (which was unpleasant textural contrast to the cheese) and the tempeh was flavorless. It didn't add the body, crunch, flavor and depth that a bacon strip would have contributed.
Grease Factor: Impressive, for the lack of real dairy fat. The grill is greased with Earth Balance margarine, which gives the sandwich that delicious shiny coating.
Back For Seconds: No. Maybe if I didn't eat real cheese, this could cut it. But I do, so I'll stick with a black coffee from Sticky Fingers for now.

Where: Five Guys Burgers and Fries
What: Grilled cheese (original comment).
Bread: A hamburger bun, turned inside out. Frankly, this creative use of bread won the sandwich some points—actually, its only points. With the sesame coating facing the cheese, the plain white side turns into that definitive grilled cheese crust.
Cheesiness: It's cheesy and has that weird yellow-orange color. I know ya'll are gonna swear I shouldn't be a food writer when you hear this: but I hate American cheese. I hated it my whole life, back when I was the quintessential picky eater as a kid. I hate the way it coats my teeth. I just keep rubbing my tongue around my mouth, and sometimes I even take a napkin try to wipe the remnants off my tongue and teeth. It's a life-long hatred. Just go with it. This sandwich is filled with American cheese, so, clearly, it skeeves me. But you might like it.
Extras: Sauteed mushrooms, which couldn't save the sandwich.
Grease Factor: It's from Five Guys. Yes.
Back for Seconds: Absolutely not.

Where: Busboys and Poets
What: Grilled Brie Panini (original comment).
Bread: Ciabatta, beautifully pressed with grill lines.
Cheesiness: The brie softens from the heat, but stops short of melting into creaminess.
Extras: Spinach, caramelized onions, and tomato. After one bite I pulled the lifeless tomato off the sandwich. The onions offer a nice sweetness but the spinach is barely noticeable. I added the yellow table mustard for some help, but the sandwich stayed bland.
Grease Factor: Not too greasy, but I did wipe my fingertips before tapping on my keyboard.
Back for Seconds: Nah. There was nothing wrong with the sandwich, it just wasn't impressive. D.C. offers too many better sandwiches to try than to give this a second go.

Where: Jaleo
What: Grilled Cheese with Manchego, Murcia, Valdeón, and goat cheese with truffle oil (original comment).
Bread: It's called "rustic bread" on the menu, but it's really a French loaf.
Extras: Served with honey alioli, which combines house-made garlic mayo and honey.
Cheesiness: The combination of different cheeses creates both a creamy and gooey sandwich, which is quite rich, and is only enhanced with the sweetness of the side sauce.
Grease Factor: A classy amount of grease: just enough to remind you it's a grilled cheese, but not enough to be turned off.
Back for Seconds: Absolutely.

In order of appearance in the comments

1. Cork Market
2. Cowgirl Creamery
3. Busboys and Poets (sandwich 1) (sandwich 2)
4. Taylor Gourmet (sandwich 1)  (sandwich 2)
5. Booeymonger
6. Pret a Manger
7. California Tortilla
8. Jaleo (sandwich 1) (sandwich 2)
9. Highland Cafe
10. Jimmy John's
11. Greek Spot
12. Sticky Fingers
13. Earl's
14. Yum's
15. Super Taco
16. Luna Grill
17. Five Guys
18. Sidamo
19. Everlasting Life
20. Au Bon Pain
21. Devon & Blakely
22. Corner Bakery
23. Potbelly
24. Black Squirrel

Photos by Stefanie Gans

Y&H doesn’t have the bona fides to judge where on the spectrum between actual political rally and Yuksapalooza Saturday’s “Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear” will fall. But he does know there will be plenty of hungry out-of-towners combing through guide books and looking for advice on where to eat. The last thing you’d want, as a Jon Stewart fan, is to end up at an establishment better suited to the Colbert Nation. Thankfully, Y&H is here to help.

Below are a number of the District’s tourist-approved dining spots. Y&H has taken the liberty of labeling which ones are more suitable for Daily Show devotees and which ones cater to the church of The Colbert Report.

• Celebrity chef restaurants

Washington, D.C., is the new Vegas, at least in terms of celebrity chefs, who have decided our money is as green as Sin City’s even if they can’t legally spend it on hookers here. In the past few years, Eric Ripert (Westend Bistro), Wolfgang Puck (The Source), Alain Ducasse (Adour), Michael Mina (Bourbon Steak), and Jean-Georges Vongerichten (J&G Steakhouse) have all opened up shop in the District. They have one thing in common: A Stephen Colbert-like belief in their sheer brilliance, a combination of talent and hubris that makes them think they can go into anyone’s neighborhood and take over the place.

Westend Bistro, 1190 22nd St. NW, (202) 974-4900

The Source, 575 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, (202) 637-6100

Adour, 923 16th St. NW, (202) 509-8000

Bourbon Steak, 2800 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, (202) 944-2026

J&G Steakhouse, 1515 15th St. NW, (202) 661-2440

• Ray’s Hell Burger

President Obama has made two stops (and counting) at Michael Landrum’s Arlington patty parlor, but those trips alone do not place Hell Burger in the Daily Show camp, given Stewart’s repeated criticisms of the president. No, what does the trick is the fact that Landrum, like Stewart, refuses to align himself with any particular cause or constituency, except for one. With Stewart, the cause is comedy. With Landrum, it’s undermining the bloated economics of the restaurant industry.

Ray’s Hell Burger, 1725 Wilson Blvd., Arlington, (703) 841-0001

• Busboys and Poets

Andy Shallal’s chainlet is a bastion of progressive thought and cost-conscious cooking, which alone qualifies it as a dirty little lefty hangout. But take a few steps back from the liberal vortex and peer into Shallal’s macro business plan—there are already three B&P outlets with a fourth coming to Harlem—and you see good ole capitalist empire building. Rupert Murdoch would be proud.

Busboys and Poets, 2021 14th St. NW, (202) 387-7638; 1025 5th St. NW, (202) 789-2227; 4251 S. Campbell Ave., Arlington, (703) 379-9757.

• Five Guys Burgers and Fries

When announcing his rally last month, Stewart told viewers that our political discourse is dominated by loud, divisive, fringe voices on both sides. His Rally to Restore Sanity, he said, would be a chance to “Take It Down a Notch for America.” Similarly, Five Guys, the once-proud burger joint from Northern Virginia, has been taking it down a notch for America even since it started franchising across the country in 2003. Just ask the noted burgerologist Josh Ozersky, who wrote last month: “Five Guys is as bad a burger as there is.”

Check fiveguys.com for locations.

• Galileo III

Roberto Donna may have been the original Tea Bagger. Long before those anti-tax and anti-big government zealots started mailing tea bags to the White House, Donna was staging his own revolt. The entire time he ran Bebo Trattoria in Crystal City, the chef never paid a single dime to Arlington County in meals taxes. When the authorities finally put the screws to Donna, he owed more than $156,000, including penalties and interest. Now Donna has to pay his back taxes or face jail time. Stephen Colbert himself might want to dine at Donna’s new restaurant and shake the chef’s hand for standing up to the man.

Galileo III, 600 14th St. NW, (202) 783-0083

• Food trucks

Maybe Donna should start a food truck in D.C.? As a mobile vendor in the District, he’d have to pay only $1,500 annually in sales tax, compared to the 10 percent shelled out by the brick and mortars for their sales. That’s the kind of tax burden even Colbert could live with. But then again, these food truck operators aren’t exactly fat cats looking for tax loopholes so they can buy a second home in Tahoe for coke-and-stripper parties. Whether selling poutine (Eat Wonky truck) or Maine-style lobster rolls (Red Hook Lobster Pound truck), these vendors are the little guys, fighting the cops, the inline restaurants, and powerful political interests for their right to work the streets. Sounds almost like an immigration problem.

• Birch & Barley/ChurchKey

Beer may have been invented in Mesopotamia and perfected in Belgium many centuries later, but it took good ole American ingenuity to turn the ancient craft into a (draft) arms race. Everyone knows who’s armed to the teeth in the District: ChurchKey, the upstairs bar at the beer-centric Birch & Barley. The joint has more than 50 tap arms and five ales on cask. Colbert would no doubt approve of the gratuitous stockpiling of (non-powder) kegs, laughing in the face of the mutually assured destruction they clearly represent.

Birch & Barley/ChurchKey, 1337 14th St. NW, (202) 567-2576

• Old Ebbitt Grill

Old Ebbitt is indeed old. (It can trace its roots back to 1856.) It makes a ton of money annually. (It was No. 5 on Restaurants & Institutions’ Top 100 Independent Restaurants list, raking in more than $20 million.) It has played host to numerous U.S. presidents, including Ulysses S. Grant, Andrew Johnson, and Theodore Roosevelt. Likewise, Jon Stewart is old. (OK, he’s 47, old by TV standards.) He makes tons of money. (Forbes pegged his salary in 2009 at $14 million.) And he’s played host to presidents. (Well, he played host to his first sitting president on Wednesday when Barack Obama appeared on The Daily Show.)

Old Ebbitt Grill, 675 15th St. NW, (202) 347-4800

• José Andrés Empire

The District’s most celebrated/prolific/motor-mouthed chef already has four restaurants in Penn Quarter, not including his chemistry experiment within a restaurant (minibar inside Café Atlantico). Andrés also has a strolling gastronomic playground in Los Angeles and plans to open two new places in Las Vegas and another in South Beach. He was profiled on 60 Minutes. GQ named him Chef of the Year in 2009. He has his own PBS series. We get it: José Andrés is everywhere. In fact, he’s almost as ubiquitous as Colbert, who still has one accomplishment that Andrés can’t touch yet: a painting of the faux pundit at the National Portrait Gallery. Curators valued the Colbert portrait to such a degree they hung it where the museum traffic is greatest—near the toilets.

Check thinkfoodgroup.com for locations

• Founding Farmers

Last month, Colbert testified before a House Judiciary subcommittee that, “American farms are presently far too dependent on immigrant labor to pick our fruits and vegetables.” The solution? “Now the obvious answer,” Colbert noted, “is for all of us to stop eating fruits and vegetables.” But how about this, Stephen: Pay a visit to Founding Farmers, the Foggy Bottom restaurant owned by real American farmers. The place strives to source ingredients from “fine, high-quality, family farms,” although a Post investigation later revealed that this category broadly included salmon farmers, those scourges of the environment. No matter. Colbert’s testimony wasn’t always sincere either.

Founding Farmers, 1924 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, (202) 822-8783

• Ben’s Chili Bowl

Regardless of what you think of Ben’s Chili Bowl—I’m always surprised at the vitriol this U Street NW institution can inspire—you have to respect the Ali family for its commitment to keeping their greasy spoon pure. They’ve refused offers to chain the Bowl far and wide, understanding part of what makes Ben’s great is its historic location and vibe. Regardless of what you think of Stewart’s rally on the Mall, the man himself has similar integrity, refusing to compromise his brand for the sake of any one administration. He’s on a crusade to make politics civil. I’ll raise a Ben’s chocolate shake to that.

Ben’s Chili Bowl, 1213 U St. NW, (202) 667-0909

Eatery tips? Food pursuits? Send suggestions to hungry@washingtoncitypaper.com. Or call (202) 650-6925.