100. Marvin
On Friday night I made my way to Marvin. I put on my cool shoes and did my hair in a hipster cool way (I didn’t shower). I’ve been to Marvin bunches of times before, for eating and for drinking. And not to toot my own horn (toot!), but I was hip to Marvin pretty soon after it first opened. Since then it has become over the top popular and over the top crowded. I do think it is popular for the right reasons—really good food, very cool vibe, great Belgian beers and the best roof deck in town. When my friends and I first started coming here, someone would inevitably miss the restaurant from the street since the black sign is tiny and pretty much invisible in the dark. Now you can’t miss it with the mass of people meeting friends outside, or if you’re there after 10pm, the line around the block to get upstairs.
I’ve had many things at Marvin and highlights include the shrimp and grits, the braised pork shank, and everything at brunch (though the breakfast grits were very wallpaper pasty). But the moules frites cannot be missed. There are a couple different ways to order them, but I went with the bacon, leek and ale this time. I also love the preparation with shallots and white wine. The fries are great and the wasabi mayo is to die for. But the star of the show are the mussels and they are some of the best, if not THE best, I’ve ever had in DC. One of my pet peeves is ordering mussels and having half of them come closed or with a tiny amount of meat. Not the case here, all those little guys were pump and delicious. My friend got the fried chicken and waffles, and was a big fan. Luckily, the chicken and waffles are also served at brunch, making them the perfect hangover cure. One of the reasons I love Marvin is the combo of food on the menu on account of namesake Marvin Gaye’s homeland (somewhere in the South where grits are king) and his time spent as an expat in Belgium. Any place I can get lobster waterzooi with a Hoegaarden is okay in my book.
I love Marvin and will continue to eat and drink there on a pretty regular basis, but I think it’s safe to say this place is no longer a hidden hipster gem. Just as we were being seated, a group of four tourists were making their way through the packed front bar, Smithsonian plastic ponchos in hand.
