Lotus Lounge, Washington, D.C.

A few nights ago, a young lawyer couple took me out for cocktails at a bar near their office. It's a newish place just off Franklin Square called the Lotus Lounge, and I hadn't realized it was there.

One enters the bar from street level, then descends to the basement of the building. The proprietors of the establishment have spent an enormous amount of money on architectural detailing on the huge space, evoking the feel of lotus blossoms everywhere, from the light fixtures to the bracket-shaped walls. A great deal of thought has gone into lighting design, as well, with lots of unusually colored lights being used for mood and accent lighting in the mostly subdued light space. We chose to sit in one of the seating alcoves opposite the very long bar.

Fortunately, it was happy hour. This is a very expensive bar with a lot of $14+ cocktails. With that in mind, though, I was rather surprised at what was missing from the bar. Now, we were sitting across from the bar and saw what had to be hundreds of bottles of liquor strung out on multiple levels running the length of the bar, but they didn't have any Citadelle gin and, most surprisingly, they couldn't make a proper Manhattan because they didn't have any rye of any variety anywhere in the bar!

The bar had an interesting presidential election going on. "Pick the POTUS at Lotus" had the full slate of Democrat and Republican candidates listed, and drinkers could "vote" by ordering the assigned cocktail for the candidate. Some were amusing. For Dennis Kucinich, you could drink an "Impeachment" (Stoli peach, Stoli O, and a splash of orange juice) because he wants to impeach VP Cheney. Bill Richardson fans can drink a cucumber margarita. John Edwards supporters get a Johnny Rocket (Southern Comfort, Grand Marnier, and cranberry juice). Hillary Clintonite people get cosmopolitans, allegedly because the drink is "pink and feminine," but I think it's because cosmos were the (now passé) vogue drink in gay bars. There's an Obama-rama for Barack Obama with Grey Goose vodka, Malibu rum, and cranberry, pineapple, and orange juices evoking tropical Hawaii and other jungle associations.

The Republican drinks were somewhat less creative, with a chocolate martini for Sam Brownback, an apple martini for Rudy Giuliani, a straight martini for John McCain, Jack and Coke for Fred Thompson, non-alcoholic fruit juice spritzers for the Mormon Romney, etc., etc.

They also have happy hour food specials. The food here comes from a sushi bar that specializes in all those bizarre and complex sushi rolls. They are also pretty expensive, compared to a normal restaurant with sushi rolls. The ones we tried were quite good, though, and full of flavors, so long as one isn't expecting something authentically Japanese. I can't recall everything we ate, but it included a "Joecito" roll with white tuna, cilantro, ginger, and jalapeño peppers, and a "Big O" with tuna, cream cheese, avocado, and crab stick rolled in Japanese bread crumbs and then fried.

The overall ambiance of the bar was rather odd and uncomfortable. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it just had that sleezy "gentleman's bar" feel to it, even though I'd say that over half of the bars patrons when we were there were female, including a couple of all-girl tables. I also get the impression the target clientele is nouveau riche people who think they can demonstrate their class and breeding by spending a lot of money on ultra-ultra-premium alcohols and cocktails.

Next payday, head over to Lotus Lounge just to see the place. It's pretty, but judging from the crowds (or relative lack thereof the Friday night we were there), the huge amount of money they spent on decor, and what I'll assume is enormous downtown monthly rent, I can't imagine that they'll last long. But, it's a fun place to experience, so go have a drink there.

California Pizza Kitchen, Arlington, Va.

After church yesterday, we went to Pentagon Center (the shopping center across the street from Pentagon City mall) so Laurent could buy a pair of wireless headphones. While we were there, he owed me brunch, so he took us to California Pizza Kitchen, where he had a chipotle chicken pizza and I had a jambalaya pasta (with an unexpected Asian spicy flavor to it), then he had chocolate banana cake with vanilla ice cream and I had tiramisu.

Hooter's, Washington, D.C.

Yesterday mid-afternoon, Robert and Laurent conspired to force Ren and me to accompany them to Chinatown, where they forced us to eat dead chicken wings at a really loud, noisy, and dirty place called Hooters. It was a bad choice of times, since there was some sort of football game on the television, and the restaurant was filled with semi-intoxicated men whooping and hollering at the top of their lungs at who-knows-what sort of events.

As expected, the service was mediocre at best, with us having to ask for drink refills and our individual orders coming in pieces, rather than all together, and several things we had to specifically request again. I'd long heard that this chain has a reputation for not bringing everything ordered, thinking the patrons would be so drunk on beer and intoxicated with the mammaries of the wait staff that they wouldn't notice what they did or didn't eat or drink. Our waitress was comely enough with exotically beautiful hazel eyes, but fine service was not her forte.

The food was so-so. Not bad, but also not good enough to have to endure that awful atmosphere often. I had some chicken wings and curly fries with iced tea. Nothing special. Robert had a dozen oysters on the half shell (once they finally showed up), some extra hot chicken wings, a huge stein of beer, and some kind of girly cocktail called a Blonde Ambition. Laurent had a "buffalo (chicken) burger" 911, chicken wings, and a Yeunglng. Ren had a "normal" buffalo (chicken) burger and curly fries.




Finally, the meal was over so we could leave. Robert ran off to go to the health club, leaving Laurent, Ren, and me to our own devices. We eventually went off to have tea and cakes at the Bon Wit, a much more civilized ritual than Robert's sports bar.