They say D.C. is Hollywood for ugly people, and this place lives to prove it. It's not so much that the drinks are mostly made of grapes, which is great if you're a child or a biblical personage, but that the whole place strains at a self-importance it can't begin to attain. Look, if you're in an airport and you want to hit a wine bar, super. You're classy. We get it. But you know what? You're getting the same microwaved greasy crap, with the same crappy plastic utensils, as the schlubby tourists down at TGIFs. [Shudder.] We'll all pretend to be impressed by your off-the-rack Burberrys pinstripes and only-somewhat-clashing Brooks Brothers half Windsor. In the meanwhile, enjoy your too warm, overpriced Chilean red. God knows, you deserve it.

Flag This Review - shamrocked, Saturday, November 21, 2009 at 5:50 PM

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