View from Tabaq of the Washington Monument keeping watch over DC.
On day 352 I headed over to Tabaq Bistro, the venue for my year-end celebration, to meet up with my friend Patricia who managed the entire event. She’s a rock star and knows how to run events. We went over a bunch of logistical issues about things you’d never dream of (i.e. will they have waiters or a buffet table, what kind of connection cables does their sound system use (1/4 inch if you were wondering), does the price quoted include serving plates and napkins, and the list goes on. After an exhausting review of items, my head was sufficiently cloudy and we decided to get some food upstairs and figure out what we had forgotten.
We maneuvered our way up the two flights of dimly lit stairs to the upper level of Tabaq which has one of the best views in DC if you haven’t been there. Its wall to wall glass gives sweeping views toward the downtown, the monuments and beyond. We grabbed some space at the rather empty bar area and ordered a drink and began perusing the dinner menu. Muhammara, that sounds interesting. It’s a roasted red pepper and walnut puree. We got one of those and chicken breast stuffed with spinach, cheese and peppers that glistened with thin layer of port wine sauce. My mind swirled like the cocktails the bartender was serving up. There were a myriad of things that had to still get done that day. One of which was to deliver my $10 to some unsuspecting individual.
Rachel chatting with Patricia.
Our bartender was a young woman named Rachel. Why not give it to her? She was very friendly and frankly had the time since at the time we were her only customers. The Connecticut native had been working there for about a month. She recently graduated from American University with a degree in graphic design and photography. My friend Patricia also went to American University here in DC and actually knew exactly where Rachel lived in Connecticut. Small world…almost freaky.
Rachel mixes up the perfect martini.
The world is in fact small for Rachel. She loves to travel. Maybe it’s because her father is originally from New Zealand and she has always had the international bug. Her father grew up in Auckland. “I’d like to move to New Zealand some day,” Rachel says. “Maybe try sailing or just hang out for a while,” she added.
At some point the conversation turned very technical focusing on the specific fonts she used to develop her website – which you can find here! “I used universe font,” she started to say, “I tried to avoid gil sans and helvetica.” Fonts…hmm, I can barely choose between wearing brown or black shoes in the morning much less what kind of font I am going to use on my website and documents. Patricia and Rachel debated the finer points of fonts – the conversation gliding far above my comprehension. I drifted in and out of the conversation while shifting my attention to the hearty portion of Muhammara that was still in front of us.
A cherry blossom photograph that Rachel made. For more of her work, click on the photo to visit her website.
Rachel stood close enough to get us something should we need it but not too close to make us feel uncomfortable as we ate. “So what do you think you will use the ten dollars for,” I asked the camera shy bartender. She paused for a moment and told me that she would probably use it to pay for the Metro or maybe put it toward a dinner she planned to make that week for a really good friend of hers. “I’m thinking about making chicken picatta,” she said.
Day 347 was the day after Thanksgiving. I woke up that morning still sufficiently full from all the turkey and stuffing I consumed the day before. I had agreed to go to Yuengling Brewery that day with my friend Laurie whose parents live about 15 minutes away in Camp Hill. There was no specific reason to go other than I enjoy beer and used to brew my own and we had nothing to do that day. 
I got to the CVS and saw that it was in fact open. There were two cars in the parking lot, one of which had just arrived. A couple with a small child got out and disappeared into the store. “Maybe I’ll give it to them,” I thought. They ended up eluding me and I shifted my focus to my cashier: Kristen.
Over Thanksgiving weekend, I took my father to see a Hershey Bears hockey match. I would often go to the games as a child with my Boy Scout troop. I used to enjoy them, but this time I didn’t really enjoy it. Partly I think because the people that sat around us were loud and obnoxious the entire game. The other factor was that it became pretty clear that the fans showed up more for the fights than they did the hockey. 
Hedgehogs apparently make good pets. “You don’t have to walk them,” she said. “And he was really cute and stayed up while I studied, they’re nocturnal, and he would run on his little wheel.” The drawback she told me was that her clothes started to smell like hedgehogs. She smelled fine when I met her though!
Year of Giving 