Writer’s Block

“It’s a way for us to bring Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes back together,” our hostess explains, as she leads us to our seat. “That’s the play they wrote together: Mule Bone. See it up there on the wall? They fought over the rights to the play. It was never finished and they never spoke again.”

“Why’s it called Eatonville?” we ask.

“That’s where she grew up in Florida. And that’s why we serve authentic Southern food.”

A restaurant with a narrative. Hmm. Not some establishment with bar stories of yore. No, a brand new eatery in a brand new building with a story literally built (well, painted) onto its walls. A story that’s dependent on another story, another restaurant: Langston Hughes’ namesake—Busboys and Poets—which sits across the street. The plot: a restaurateur rekindling a relationship between two famous writers who had sworn each other off during their lifetimes. I like it, sort of. (But it’s a bit disturbing, no? Imagine if in 20 years, the city of Syracuse opened a duo of coffeehouses, paying homage to David Foster Wallace and Mary Karr, to “bring them together once again.” Hmm. Not an exact parallel there, but something to think about.) Story aside, let’s talk about the food:

For a restaurant that has only been open for 5 days, I am really impressed. The food is delicious and reasonably priced. Per the suggestions of our waiter (who doubles as a storyteller, filling it even more details about the Hurston-Hughes saga), we order the Hushpuppies appetizer (which is essentially one big hushpuppy filled with shrimp and leek fondue; $8), the gumbo (a flavorful but milder version of the stuff you’d get in Nola; $8); and the Crab Burger (i.e. deep fried crab cake sandwich; $12; pictured below). The last item is a standout; both Patten and I agree it’s the best crab sandwich we’ve had in D.C. The combination of the not-too-bready bun, the sauce, the arugula, the red onions, and the thick patty of moist crab meat is really outstanding. It has us oohing and aahing in a way we haven’t done for a while. We try the blackberry/peach cobbler for dessert ($6); it’s okay, but too syrupy—an issue that could be solved if they’d used fresh, instead of canned, peaches.

The service is impressive: again, a surprise for a newborn restaurant. The space has a lively feel, and if you visit when we did—early in the evening—you’ll be graced with copious amounts of sunlight, pouring in through the restaurant’s tall wall of windows. The staff’s excitement about Hurston and Hughes will have you looking up Mule Bone when you get home, and that crab burger will have you returning with guests. Good stuff here. Yes, stuff that stories are made of.

Eatonville

	Sweet tea in a mason jar. Patten was pleased.		Upstairs lounge/bar		Zora Neale Hurston
Hushpuppies appetizer	Gumbo	Cobbler		Entrance to Eatonville