Below is the text of my monthly “Editor’s Letter” in the new issue of Washingtonian.
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Springtime in Washington makes living here worthwhile, even if this year the season arrived late. Sitting in the mix of sun, wind, and light rain that marked the Nationals’ opening day—and dodging cherry-blossom traffic on the way—made me think of Stewart Alsop, the legendary DC columnist.
“The tourists come to Washington in April to see the cherry blossoms, when Washington is often chilly and blossomless,” Alsop wrote. “They ought to come in May. May is a lovely month, but nowhere in the world lovelier than in Washington. Washington’s May makes up for Washington’s August, which is saying a great deal.”
All winter I’ve eagerly awaited May, when spring is here in full force. First on my calendar? The return of my neighborhood farmers market on Saturday, May 4. This month’s cover story is filled with more than a hundred great festivals, fairs, and markets to enjoy over the coming months—ethnic feasts, winetastings, arts events, summer celebrations, harvest festivals.
Stumbling onto a local festival is for me an unrivaled joy. Years ago, on an autumn trip to Harpers Ferry, we stopped for coffee in Brunswick, Maryland, a few miles shy of the destination, and found ourselves in the midst of the town’s Railroad Days festival (page 63). Perhaps best known today as the last stop in Maryland on one of the MARC commuter-rail lines, Brunswick hasn’t been the center of anywhere in a long time, but on that day the town buzzed: The volunteer fire department was cooking barbecue and cutting French fries, the ladies’ auxiliary was hosting a bake sale, the high school was selling Brunswick Railroaders T-shirts, local political candidates were handing out buttons and bumper stickers, and there were train rides galore.
We ended up spending the afternoon eating, exploring, and antiquing—and never made it to Harpers Ferry. We’ve been back almost every year since, on the first weekend in October. Now the festival is part of a full-day adventure that includes buying decorative gourds and squash en route at Comus Market, north of Germantown, and having some mouth-watering fried chicken at Family Meal, Bryan Voltaggio’s car-dealership-turned-restaurant in Frederick.
I hope in the following pages you’ll find some new favorites and family traditions, too—whether at the Shenandoah Apple Blossom Festival, Annapolis’s Bands in the Sand, the Saint Sophia Greek Festival in Northwest DC, or the Takoma Park Folk Festival.
As we celebrate farmers markets and the arrival of fresh, local produce in the Mid-Atlantic, we also feature an essay by Todd Kliman, our lead dining critic, about the meaning behind the local farm-to-table movement (page 76). It’s an important article, one that highlights the movement’s origins—including the groundbreaking work, at her Dupont Circle restaurant, of organic-food pioneer Nora Pouillon. What she helped found more than 30 years ago has changed the way many restaurants and chefs approach their food.
Kliman explores the wide spectrum of what “local” can mean—and how much of an impact locally sourced ingredients can have on taste and the environment. It’s a provocative story about modern life and our emotions as both eaters and consumers. It was even a surprising piece for Kliman to research and write—he didn’t expect to be touting the virtues of both Woodberry Kitchen’s Spike Gjerde and the suburban chain Silver Diner.
Patrick O’Connell, star chef of the Inn at Little Washington, explained to Kliman that the desire for local food is a natural progression of a culture that often seems homogenized: “First it was give me something good to eat. Then it was give me something good to eat and entertain me. Then it was give me something good to eat and take me somewhere I’ve never been. Now it’s prove to me that there is some hope left in the world.”
A good meal can certainly inspire hope, but after this long winter, I’ll find all the hope I need in the sunny days of May.
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