A Trip to the Market

I swear I'm not a hipster, but I love farmers' markets and everything they stand for. Local food tastes better, local flowers last longer, and where else can you find vintage postcards for crafty projects? If I could live anywhere in DC, I would live inside the Eastern Market building next to the flower lady's stand. Andrew and I have made two trips out on the orange line, and both times we've made extravagant plans for meals that would require a strange cut of meat or a cheese we've never heard of.

A real butcher. This inspires me to take my cooking to a new level.

Unlike most other farmers' markets, Eastern Market stays open year-round (which is why I was able to post these pictures in February). It helps to have a permanent building and an overhang to shelter produce stands:

One thing I've been missing about Charleston is being able to get fresh seafood, especially winter oysters. It's just not winter without an oyster roast. Some of you may think that these tasty little gems look like snot blobs, and they kind of do, but I bet you like gummy worms. Seriously, if you're willing to eat something that has the look and texture of a hermaphroditic animal that eats decaying leaves, give oysters a chance.

Anyway, the point I wanted to make here is that Eastern Market sells fresh seafood! Including oysters! And squid. They also have fish with the heads still attached, but I couldn't look at them without feeling sick so no pictures of those.

If you ever visit me in DC (Kate Fowler in one week!) I will probably take you to Eastern Market over the weekend. Humor me, please, because so far it is my second favorite place in DC. (What is my first favorite place, you ask? Perhaps I will write about that in my next post...)

The Worst Mexican Restaurant in the World

It's called Mexicali Blues, and it's in Clarendon, VA. But Krystle, you ask, how can you know it's the worst Mexican restaurant in the world? Have you been to every Mexican restaurant in the world? No, of course not. But I have been to Mexican places in at least six states that I can think of off the top of my head and in four different countries (including Mexico), and I literally cannot imagine a restaurant worse than Mexicali Blues. (Non-DC friends, please bear with me. This place was just so bad, I had to rant about it on the internet.)

We went for dinner Monday night - Andrew and I wanted something quick so we could spend the evening figuring out the next step in my job search. The pizza place where we'd planned on eating closed early for their staff holiday party, so we innocently chose the fun-looking pink Mexican place across the street. The staff was friendly, but once the waiter brought out the chips and salsa we knew straight off that this was not getting a regular spot in our restaurant rotation. Our first impression was a basket of out-of-bag chips and salsa that tasted like... nothing. No spice, no cilantro flavor, it didn't even taste like tomatoes. Andrew and I both ordered enchiladas, which are my litmus test for Mexican food. If I can make better enchiladas than yours at home, I'm not coming back. And I use enchilada sauce from a can.

Needless to say, Mexicali Blues didn't pass the enchilada test. Usually I can describe flavors fairly well, but there was just something wrong with their enchilada sauce. I'm honestly not that picky about food, but I just could not eat it. And they served 10-minute white rice. Like, Uncle Ben's. Boil-in-bag, I'm pretty sure. And Kraft powdery parmesan cheese sprinkled on top. We had a lot of WTF moments there. It was surreal.

There has to be crack in their margaritas, because Mexicali Blues is pretty full on Friday and Saturday nights. I didn't try one because it was a Monday night, but I can think of no other reason for people to go there. They must pay their rent entirely on booze sales. The only good thing about our dinner there is that we got out for $20 in 20 minutes.

Do not go to Mexicali Blues. Please. The pink lit-up exterior is seductive, but don't let it suck you in unless you only want to drink. Make the trek out to Ballston for Uncle Julio's or across the street to Pete's for some delicious New Haven style a-pizza. Anywhere but Mexicali Blues.

God I miss Zia Taqueria. If you're lucky enough to live in Charleston, go there and order the pollo verde tacos and a Ziarita. Think of me while you enjoy their drippy, meaty deliciousness, and pray that I find a good Mexican place here soon.