Mile
Zero

As ethnic foods go, Ethiopian is maybe an acquired taste. The usual meal consists of lots of vegetable sides, surrounding a pile of spicy beef or lamb cubes, which you scoop up from a communal plate using a sour flatbread. I first had it about three years ago, when a photographer from the Washington Asia Press and I ditched the mayor's toydrive to get some dinner, and loved it immediately. Last night we introduced it to Belle's mom and brother via one of the better Ethiopian joints in DC, Dukem on U Street.

Oddly enough, this can be a tough sell. Some people just aren't really interested in wrapping their paws in spongy bread and scooping up handfuls of something that looks like creamed corn, something else that looks like pureed spinach, and the centerpiece of rare beef cooked with crispy, fresh tomatos. Some people have no sense of adventure. Although I'd like to say that Harry Reid, Senate Majority Leader, is clearly not one of them, since he was sitting down at a table with his family as we left. That's not really relevant to the post, I just thought it was kind of cool.

The food is one reason that I could never live away from a city. I'm still finding new flavors, either in restaurants or for my own cooking. A few days ago on a whim I stopped in at the Food Star on Columbia Pike, and found myself standing in front of a fridge shelf that was filled with six or seven kinds of chorizo, sorted by country and heat. And a few shelves over, handmade tortillas! I have been trying to find those ever since Alton Brown told me that every major city should have its own tortilla factory.

In A Cook's Tour, Anthony Bourdain spends some time on the theme of cultural tourism--both how a meal is situated in its specific circumstances, like a pig-slaughter in Portugal or roasted lamb in Morocco, and also how visiting other countries reveals some of the oddities in the American diet, such as how our middle-class prosperity has shaped our cuisine (or more specifically, left it a little shapeless). And I always go through a little bit of the same revelation when I step into one of the immigrant grocery stores.

It's not to say that DC is a serious foodie city, because I don't think it really is, and I'd never know anyway. I can't afford to eat at places like Taberna del Alabardero, much less Kinkead's or Citronelle--or at least, I like to think that I can't. It's probably easier on my wallet that way, and you can still be spoiled for choice here, like in most big cities. And there's a pretty good mix of cultural backgrounds to enjoy. I have yet to find a place that serves authentic Chinese food--though I prefer the bastardized American Chinese food to the real thing anyway--but since moving to the area I've been exposed to a variety of different cuisines, from Ethiopian tibs to Korean barbecue, and still have a list of several to try.

I think this is why I can't understand people who are genuinely anti-immigrant--not just angry about the loss of jobs, but actually upset by those dirty foreigners. I want to take the complainers to the place in Fairfax where I had pho for the first time, or to the Lebanese Taverna. Taste this! I want to say. How can you be upset by someone who makes this food? Why wouldn't we want more of those people here? We are enriched by their presence. We should have an explicit cuisine visa, as far as I'm concerned. Your food is delicious? Welcome to America.