I was having one of THOSE days last Saturday. I woke up to get ready for 1789, hopped in the shower, and the shower head flew off the spout and hit me in the head. Hard. Then I was running late, after the appropriate amount of panicking and curse words and feeling my head for a bump and wound up forgetting my wallet. Then I couldn’t find a parking spot that wasn’t metered, but I had no money. After finally parking, I burst into 1789’s bakery, which isn’t actually attached to the restaurant, and asked for Cathy, who I knew was already there. Everyone looked at me like I had five heads. Was I not at the right place? 1789 is located a block from Georgetown’s campus, right near The Tombs, and intermingles with the other restaurants located next door. I got flustered and tried to explain in a rush of words, “I’m having the worst morning ever, I got hit in the head, forgot my wallet, there’s no parking, you think I’m crazy right? I’m a writer, I’m here to do a story on 1789, I’m looking for Cathy…” Pastry Chef Travis Olson stood up from putting house made crackers on a rack, looked mildly amused at my storm of words and shook my hand and introduced himself. I unleashed the hurricane again. “I’m sorry, I know I’m crazy, I’m just supposed to be meeting Cathy in here, you probably think I’m insane, is this even 1789?” I trailed off. Thankfully, the kind soul of a woman baking bread in the window turns around, and volunteers that there was in fact, a girl dressed in street clothing who was writing an article that came in a few minutes ago looking for the chef. And then, as if on cue, Cathy walked in the kitchen to find me.
So after that sort of an entrance it was only appropriate that Executive Chef Daniel Giusti throw an egg at me. We were waiting for the potatoes to bake for the gnocchi he was going to show us how to make, and he was gathering up our necessary ingredients. Flour, a bowl, a knife, a cutting board, and eggs. He leaned back against the counter holding the two eggs for our pasta and all of a sudden an egg comes flying out of his hand and hits me in the knee, falling to the floor with a huge thwack and busting open. “Why you gotta throw an egg at me?” I laugh. “Haven’t I been through enough today?” Dan dissolves into laughter. “DID YOU EVEN SEE THAT? That was some Houdini shit right there! I didn’t even do anything! I didn’t even move my hand! We better get you out of the kitchen, this is like the worst place for you to be, there are knives in here.” And that’s what I love about the kitchen at 1789, Cathy and I were automatically comfortable there – we wound up having a really fun morning. I can tell why such good food comes out of the kitchen there. Continue reading →