This pretty much sums up the way I feel about Ceviche:
– Knock Knock
– “Who’s there?”
– “WHY are you still wearing pants?!”
I did a lot of ES reading before I gathered up the courage to confess my love to it, and my mild obsession lead me to learn that a couple of ES peeps reside in DC and I’m guessing a good amount of readers too. It just so happens that in an attempt to find employment as a recent graduate, I went to DC a few weeks back in a quest for a job. However, what I found was even better; one hell of a ceviche.
A friend encouraged me to go to the National Museum of the American Indian, both for the rad exhibits and the food and OH LORD am I glad I went! The collections were impressive but I’m not going to lie—I spent the majority of the time drooling over the food at the cafeteria (does that make me a terrible person?)
Their restaurant, The Mitsitam Cafe, offers a HUGE variety of Indigenous food that makes you go “woah” and between Brazilian Feijoada, Campfire Buffalo Burgers and Maple-Brined Turkey, making a decision is a Sophie’s Choice situation.
I ended up caving in for the ceviche because it looked like it needed to happen and very rarely has ceviche let me down. Also, I hadn’t had my fix in a while. The woman really hooked me up and served a colossal amount of scrumptious deliciousness, so after shimmying my way to a table and having my first bite, all I wanted to do was to do was to do cartwheels and yell “USA USA USA!!”
It was the perfect amount of sour and spicy, the shrimp were incredibly fresh and it is by far the best ceviche I’ve ever had in America. What I’m trying to say is: RAVE!!!!!! I’d go back to DC for the sole purpose of eating there. Oh and if you’re pairing it with a glass of Pinot Grigio like I did, you’re a champion. Basically, what I’m trying to say is: every other museum in the world—can you get on board with this?