It was my 30th birthday this weekend and in the spirit of a new decade and a desire to try something new, we checked out the new whole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant, Little Serow, a project of Komi chef, Johnny Monis.
We waited 2.5 hours.
Laid back seating at Little Serow
The good news is that you can put your name down and then they’ll text you 10 minutes out from your seating. And since it’s located below Komi, you’re in a great spot of town so there’s plenty of places to enjoy a drink and a good conversation as you wait.
And I must say it was worth it.
The northern Thai menu changes weekly but the things that remain the same are shared plates spiked with enough spice to make you weep.
Crisp veggies are key (when your mouth is on fire)
There was a mint, lime-infused flash-fried tofu dish that was the best thing I’ve eaten in years. (And I don’t profess a love for tofu)
There was a green shrimp curry adorned with crunchy noodles that I almost drank like it was the nectar of the gods.
And to top it off, a very low key dessert that was absolutely perfect — sticky coconut rice. Delish.
Go. You won’t be disappointed.
(Photos via Washingtonian)
I have to put in a plug for Yoga District for putting together a fabulous thai yoga massage workshop for couples and friends (and a big thanks to my friend, Roni, for recommending it). My husband and I went with an open mind, not knowing quite what to expect, and turned out running into people we know and loving the experience. The workshop includes powerful bodywork, meditative breathing and acupressure massage — all done hand in hand with your loved one. It’s a truly awesome way to spend two hours on the weekend.
Yoga District, 14th & T St NW
Gracy, the instructor, also teaches restorative yoga on Friday nights at Quiet Mind. She’s thoughtful, attentive and inspiring. Keep an eye out on Yoga District’s website for more similar classes. I hear that Flow Yoga next to Whole Foods on P St NW offers thai massage as well.
There are mornings where everything goes according to plan and then there are mornings that convince you you were supposed to stay in bed. Today’s morning commute was one of the latter.
I was heading into the office early on a day when the city feels empty since folks have fled to their families for Thanksgiving. As I turned the corner to see if the Circulator bus was within sight, I spotted it and ran across the street to catch it before the light turned. As I approached the bus’ door, it never opened. I looked up at the bus driver who just stared at me.
“Can you open the door, please?” I implored.
“Sorry,” said said, “I can’t.”
“You can’t? Why?” I asked.
“I just can’t. Sorry,” she said with this horrible “I-don’t-care-one-bit-look.”
A few seconds went by before the bus promptly pulled away as I stood there without another bus in sight.
Moments like this conjure up a lot of negative thoughts, things not worth repeating. But more than anything, the whole situation just felt so — to put it simply — mean. Why was she so unhelpful? I just couldn’t understand any of it. It cast a spell over the first half of my day.
If ever there was a time when I wished I drove myself to work, today was the day.
(photo via h.koppdelaney)