I’m not precisely sure why, but something about Room 11 reminds me of New Orleans. Not the crazy raucous Bourbon Street tourist madness that immediately comes to mind, but the lazy corner bar where the locals go.
Maybe because the actual space is so tiny, just a bar with an outside patio that dwarfs the inside. Maybe because the first night I was there, the clientele was such a fascinating mix of local characters. On one side, I could eavesdrop on the brothers Brown concocting their latest cocktail bar, on the other, a courtly group of GI Generationers enjoying the vino. The next visit it was the after-work young professionals crowd, enlivened by a dandy with a dog.
A complete cross-section of the Columbia Heights neighborhood? Well, not entirely. “You enjoying that wine and cheese?” a man sneered as he passed by.
But, no social commentary today. Let’s talk about that wine and cheese instead. Continue reading