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Archive for the ‘Food’ Category

COLUMBIA, Mo. —

As I previously wrote, I’m taking a break from Houston. That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m taking a break from barbecue.

My flight on Sunday landed in Kansas City. Passing up on Kansas City barbecue would have been incomprehensible, especially since I’ve already sampled barbecue from two Texas establishments. After some heated discussion with Jeff, who’s very firm with his opinion of Kansas City barbecue, we decided on Arthur Bryant’s. Jeff’s first pick, Oklahoma Joe’s, is closed on Sundays, and I wanted Bryant’s over Gates because of the appeal of eating in an older location.

Arthur Bryant's on Boulevard Ave.

Jeff had already decided on our order: the beef and pork combo, with fries.

The beef is on the left, the pork on the right.

My informal barbecue tour so far had not featured shredded meat or a lot of sauce — until Bryant’s. Both of the above are why Jeff is not a fan of Bryant’s. While wolfing down the food, he mourned how the taste of the meat was lost in the sauce.

I didn’t mind it. It was tasty in its own right, and I didn’t think the meat was lost in the sauce. That said, I didn’t douse my portion in Bryant’s signature vinegar-based sauce, but rather ate it as it was served.

The remnants of another party's meal.

But, as I’ve written before, I’m no barbecue or meat expert. Bryant’s was good but not mind-blowingly good. I think generally I prefer a good steak over slow-cooked meats.

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A few weeks ago, some of my extended family came to town to celebrate my grandparents’ 60th anniversary. As is tradition with my family, “celebrate” means ordering and consuming an ungodly amount of food.

Way more food than that lazy susan was designed to handle.

As is Chinese tradition, the chicken in the poached chicken dish (which you can see at about 12:30 on the lazy susan in the above photo) arrived at the table with all relevant (and cooked) body parts. Including the head. Which was also cooked.

Complete with the comb. Completely cooked.

I am Chinese. I have grown up eating authentic Chinese food. The Chinese traditionally cook animals whole (sans organs), chop them up and serve them after arranging everything to resemble the whole body, for good luck. Therefore, I am used to seeing whole lobsters — with heads — arrive at the table. I am used to seeing whole fish — with heads — arrive at the table. I am used to seeing shrimp — with heads — arrive at the table.

But never until now had I seen a chicken — with its head — arrive at the table.

So that was new, and slightly grotesque, but fun. And now you can understand, perhaps, why I suddenly didn’t feel too hungry after the poached chicken dish came out of the kitchen.

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A little more than a week ago, my dad and I went to Lockhart — known as the “Barbecue Capital of Texas” — and sampled sausage, brisket and ribs at Smitty’s.

This past Sunday, my mom took my younger brother back to College Station (I’d taken him back home to Houston after I was done shooting the Texas A&M-Missouri game). I accompanied them, largely because of the promise of dinner at Rudy’s.

Rudy's of College Station.

My dad had sung Rudy’s praises enough for me to ready myself for another meat fest. What my dad didn’t know — until I told him the other day — is that Rudy’s is a chain restaurant. Which, inexplicably, is a little disappointing. You’d think, or at least I’d have thought, that you could find the best barbecue only at local, often run-down venues whose proprietors wouldn’t dream of opening another location.

But Rudy’s barbecue was pretty good, and their ribs were more tender than the ones we had at Smitty’s. And their “Sissy Sause” was an excellent accompaniment to their meats.

Bread, brisket, ribs and containers of coleslaw and potato salad, served in shallow crates at Rudy's "Country Store" and Bar-B-Q in College Station, Texas.

Bottles of "Rudy's Sissy Sause" line the windows of Rudy's "Country Store" and Bar-B-Q on Sunday, Oct. 18, 2010, in College Station, Texas.

A single rib and a few slivers of brisket were enough to fill me up, even though the only other food I’d had that day was a bagel at 8 a.m. Another meal of Texas barbecue was meat overload — yeah, I’m weak — and I decided to go vegetarian for a few days.

That is, until the next night when I saw a piece of leftover chicken marsala in the refrigerator.

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Yes, it’s been about five weeks since I last updated this blog. No, I’m not dead.

Rather, I’m back home in Texas. I am available for freelance work, have been working steadily on a few projects and am applying for jobs and internships. Speaking of projects, tomorrow I’ll post a picture story I completed in the last week of my internship in Atlanta — so be on the lookout for that!

In the meantime, today my dad and I made a pilgrimage to Lockhart, Texas. Officially “The Barbecue Capital of Texas,” as declared by the state legislature in 2003, Lockhart is a small town south of Austin. It has four barbecue restaurants. We went to Smitty’s.

Dad savors the last bite of lunch at Smitty's.

Yeah. We drove almost five hours roundtrip from Houston for this:

Pork ribs, brisket and sausage - and, of course, cheap white bread. What's up with barbecue and cheap white bread?

On the trip back, I realized I’m not a big-enough food — or meat, or barbecue — aficionado to be making these kinds of trips. I’m certain many foodies are game for pilgrimages to the meccas of their various food interests, but I’m just not cut out for that. I know when food is bad, but after a point, meat is meat. Barbecue is barbecue. It’s good when it’s good. If one barbecue place is better than another, I wouldn’t know the difference.

Shame on me, as a Texan? Maybe.

(Check back tomorrow for my picture story!)

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As I’ve written before, Atlanta Journal-Constitution readers will continue to see my byline throughout the month of September — mostly under photos of food.

I photographed for food writer Wendell’s articles twice, which was always a pleasure. For one, Wendell is just fun to work with. For another, his house offers great places to photograph food using only natural light.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. (Click on the image above to read the relevant article on ajc.com.) Andrew's peanut collard greens, a recipe from Atlanta author Joseph Dabney's new book "The Food, Folklore, and Art of Lowcountry Cooking."

That said, the collard greens (above) in their peanut sauce were a little hard to capture in natural light — mostly because the sauce’s surface was very reflective.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. South Carolina sweet potato pies, a recipe from Atlanta author Joseph Dabney's new book "The Food, Folklore, and Art of Lowcountry Cooking."

Pie also proved a bit challenging at first — because the surface texture is pretty monotonous. But I photographed the pies as whole and then a slice.

And then I ate it. Because I could. And it was delicious.

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The worst part of photographing food for the newspaper is that it’s usually food I can’t afford to buy or make.

For example — a $1,000 picnic basket at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre at Encore Park. A picnic basket that includes two Maine lobsters, caviar, expensive steaks, cheeses, stuffed peppers and truffles.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. (Click on the image above to view the full photo gallery on ajc.com.) A New York sirloin Kobe-style Wagyu steak, served with grilled pineapple, as well as (not pictured) asparagus spears, a Maine lobster, a pan-fried rice cake and a baguette -- all part of the $1,000 platinum picnic basket, which is available at all Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and ASO Presents concerts at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre at Encore Park in Alpharetta.

Also — ricotta cheese. And not the kind that you buy in a tub from the grocery store.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. (Click on the image above to read the relevant article on ajc.com.) Homemade ricotta cheese, topped with olive oil and herbs, served on an appetizer plate with prosciutto, bread and pineapple mostarda.

As Jeff and my family can confirm, I’m not a big fan of cheese unless it’s melted. But this — this was just tempting.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Ricotta cheese, topped with a slice of fig, served with ricotta poundcake as dessert.

Food photography. I love it, and I hate it. But mostly I love it.

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Careful what you eat — your first bite might just be your last!

One fellow found that out the hard way. He started to take a bite of his Which Wich ‘wich… and then couldn’t close his jaw for 14 hours.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. (Click on the image above to read the relevant article on ajc.com.) Chad Ettmueller of Cumming takes a bite out of the double meat wicked sandwich at the Which Wich sandwich shop in Cumming on Monday, July 12, 2010. Ettmueller ordered that sandwich in March, dislocated both joints of his jaw while taking the first bite and paid about $4,000 out of pocket for the medical services needed to correct his jaw.

And then his best friend ended up eating the ‘wich.

Read the story. It’s just fun.

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If you were reading/following/occasionally checking my blog this spring, you would’ve noticed quite a bit of food photography.

This is because the photojournalism department chair, David Rees, had our capstone class do two one-photo-a-day-for-30-days blog challenges — and eventually, I resorted to photographing the food that Jeff and I were making. Because everything else was getting boring.

But I’d like to thank David, as I am now a legitimately prolific food photographer: Half of my assignments this week for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution have been of food.

Here’s what’s been published so far:

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. (Click on the image above to read the relevant article on ajc.com.) A slice of frozen mocha toffee-crunch terrine. Shot with one light.

© 2010 by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. (Click on the image above to read the relevant article on ajc.com.) Hummus made with sprouted chickpeas and a little jalapeno. Shot in natural light, in the shade.

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We went to Guadalajara Grill after checking out the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. I immediately searched the menu for the Azteca quesadilla (chicken), but I think Jeff’s attention went straight for the Mexican Coke sitting in the cooler.

BW400CN, 35mm.

Drink up, boy!

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This afternoon, my capstone class decided to start another 30-day challenge. This will take us through to the end of spring break.

So, what better way to kick off this new 30-day period than with a food photo?

Jeff's heart attack of a spinach-mushroom-cheese-bacon, three-egg omelette.

Better yet, these photos were all taken with a 10.5/2.8 fisheye lens.

The omelette looks almost normal in this one. But nothing else does.

David Rees does not like wide-angle distortion. (Feel free to pick apart my word choice, DK.) Therefore, I hope everyone appreciates my using a fisheye for a food photo as a doubly snarky way to start this new 30-day challenge.

Jeff needed two spatulas to flip the omelette. Healthy late-night dinner, indeed.

Note: To reduce any confusion between this new challenge (effective today) and the first one, I’m using Roman numerals in the entry titles for the second set of 30 days.

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I’m a little embarrassed/ashamed about how many of my entries for the 30-day challenge are of food that Jeff and/or I have made.

Homemade nachos pollo. You know you want some. (Should've taken the photo after we topped this with green onions.)

But honestly, food and the making thereof are a huge part of our lives, especially since we pride ourselves in making our meals from scratch. So while I’ve indulged/cheated by taking probably too many photos of the food we’ve made, I would be grossly misrepresenting our lives if I didn’t include this culinary element in some respect.

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A few days ago, David Rees spotted Jeff in the photo lab and asked, “So, what’s for dinner?”

I’m guessing his question had something to do with my three or four entries detailing the various meals Jeff and I have concocted over the past 20 or so days.

Well, David, I’ve now got a response to your query. We haven’t had a chance to cook together since you asked Jeff — until tonight.

Meat.

When we were at my house in Houston over winter break, my mother prepared pork stew with carrots and a brew of Chinese sauces and cooking wine. It is delicious, but I didn’t ask her for the recipe until we’d already returned to Columbia. So my mother e-mailed an approximate recipe and mailed up a few ingredients we wouldn’t be able to find in Columbia.

So tonight, we attempted to replicate my mother’s success.

Stewing.

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One of the projects in David’s capstone class is the one-day/five-points-of-view story. This is a picture story that must be told in five pictures and that happened over a relatively short period of time (no more than a few days).

As you might have gathered from my blog, I chose to do a light exploration of backyard chickens in Columbia as a result of the recently-passed “chicken ordinance.” But now I’ll let the photos — and their captions — tell the story.

The chickens have escaped from their greenhouse home on St. Joseph Road, and it's up to Adam Saunders to chase them back inside. Saunders and other members of the non-profit Columbia Center for Urban Agriculture own six hens, which is the maximum number allowed by a Columbia city ordinance that permits urban residents to keep chickens in their backyard.

Five of CCUA's six hens stare each other down inside the greenhouse on Feb. 17. CCUA owns three Rhode Island Reds, one Buff Orpington, one Australorp-Rhode Island Red mix and one Dominic. Roosters are not allowed under the city ordinance, largely because of their crowing.

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This, my friends, is what mornings were made for:

Smoked mid-Atlantic salmon on mini bagels with cream cheese and green onions.

Although, it was about 1 p.m. today when Jeff and I each had three fully-loaded mini bagels. So really, the bliss that is bagels-and-lox is what any time of day was made for.

That said, I wouldn’t recommend eating three fully-loaded mini bagels at any time of day: after consuming that much food all at once, I spent the next three or four hours sleeping very soundly.

But that’s what Sundays were made for.

(Excuse the abundance of end-of-sentence prepositions.)

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Jeff made these:

Before. (Photo by Jeff)

He brought them over to Lee Hills, where photographers ate the majority of them. But I ate at least six or seven. And I wiped the plate clean:

After. (Photo by me)

Jeff knows how to do things right. And so do I.

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I love the Food Network‘s competition shows.

Chopped“? It’s great when I don’t mind a slightly higher blood pressure. (For me, it’s stressful to watch. But enjoyable.)

Food Network Challenge“? Entertaining, but even more so when non-pros take on a challenge.

Worst Cooks in America“? I’ve only seen a few episodes, but Chef Anne’s voice is sometimes a bit too grating. That said, I have to admit that watching it makes me feel that much better about myself as a cook.

Iron Chef America“? …best show on the Food Network. Period. My favorite, by far.

That said, Bobby Flay is not my favorite Iron Chef. That said, I don’t have a favorite Iron Chef. But if I did, it wouldn’t be Bobby Flay.

Jeff decided to make Bobby Flay’s chili recipe for our Super Bowl XLIV enjoyment, as well as some traditional corn-and-bean salad.

Suffice it to say, it was delicious and boasted a deep, hearty flavor. It was also beyond my tolerance for spiciness. Admittedly, my threshold is fairly low, and Jeff claims he added only half the amount of spices in the recipe.

The recipe also called for a “toasted cumin crema” and “avocado relish,” which Jeff made and said would help cool my palate after some bites of chili.

Well. As a born-and-raised Texan, I don’t want any of that creamy silliness in my chili, spicy or not.

So thank you, Bobby Flay, for publishing an over-spiced recipe and then having the gall to suggest that we should truss it up with creamy silliness.

Here are a few more photos of our Super Bowl menu lineup:

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Late last night, Jeff and I took advantage of Hot Box Cookies‘ late hours and a Facebook special to get some fresh oatmeal cookies.

I also took advantage of it as an opportunity for another photographic sequence.

First, the ubiquitous box in which all Hot Box cookies arrive:

Then, the cookies. Jeff and I ordered half a dozen oatmeal cookies: three with chocolate chips and three with raisins.

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I really love Roots ‘N Blues ‘N BBQ.

Ben Moore performs as one of the Blind Boys of Alabama at the Peace Park stage on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009.

Ben Moore performs as one of the Blind Boys of Alabama at the Peace Park stage on Saturday.

Oops. As a journalist who covered the festival wherein music and barbecue took over downtown Columbia for two days, am I allowed to say that?

Oh well. I have loved Roots ‘N Blues since the 2007 festival, which was supposed to be a one-time thing. And then the powers that be decided to give it a second go. And then a third. And who knows if there’ll be a fourth?

If you don’t know what Roots ‘N Blues is — well, it’s a lot of things.

There’s music:

Ana Popovic shreds her guitar as bassist Ronald Zonker plays along at the Peace Park stage during the third annual Roots N Blues N BBQ Festival on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009. Popovic hails from Yugoslavia and learned to play the guitar at age 15.

Ana Popovic shreds her guitar as bassist Ronald Zonker plays along at the Peace Park stage during the third annual Roots 'N Blues 'N BBQ Festival on Saturday. Popovic hails from Yugoslavia and learned to play the guitar at age 15.

There’s barbecue:

Hole Shot BBQ team member Kevin Henderson arranges smoked pork at his teams station on Sixth Street in preparation for the Roots N Blues N BBQ Festival barbecue judging on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009. The team, hailing from Wentzville, also prepared ribs and chicken for the barbecue contest.

Hole Shot BBQ team member Kevin Henderson arranges smoked pork at his team's station on Sixth Street in preparation for the Roots 'N Blues 'N BBQ Festival barbecue judging on Saturday. The team, hailing from Wentzville, also prepared ribs and chicken for the barbecue contest.

There’re the fans from all over:

Music reviewer "Beatle Bob" - real name Robert Matonis - dances to Ana Popovics music at the Peace Park stage during the third annual Roots N Blues N BBQ Festival on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009. Matonis, who is the subject of an upcoming documentary called "Superfan: The Lies, Life and Legend of Beatle Bob," is known as a regular at live music events and for his active dancing to the music.

Music reviewer "Beatle Bob" - real name Robert Matonis - dances to Ana Popovic's music at the Peace Park stage during the third annual Roots 'N Blues 'N BBQ Festival on Saturday. Matonis, who is the subject of an upcoming documentary called "Superfan: The Lies, Life and Legend of Beatle Bob," is known as a regular at live music events and for his active dancing to the music.

There’re the kids:

Four-year-old Reid Boyd of Columbia plays his guitar while listening to James Hand on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009, at the stage at Seventh and Locust Steets. Boyd, who doesnt know chords yet but can pick out tunes by watching others, is on his third guitar.

Four-year-old Reid Boyd of Columbia plays his guitar while listening to James Hand on Saturday at the stage at Seventh and Locust Steets. Boyd, who doesn't know chords yet but can pick out tunes by watching others, is on his third guitar.

There’re the activities for kids:

Balloon artist Mike Martin and Columbia resident Beverly Bell  help place a balloon hat on 8-year-old Nikki Williams head on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009, outside of Flat Branch Park during the third annual Roots N Blues N BBQ Festival. Bell said the wait for balloon creations was an hour long.

Balloon artist Mike Martin and Columbia resident Beverly Bell help place a balloon hat on 8-year-old Nikki Williams' head on Saturday outside of Flat Branch Park during the third annual Roots 'N Blues 'N BBQ Festival. Bell said the wait for balloon creations was an hour long.

There’s peace:

Festivalgoers form peace signs with their hands in Peace Park while listening to the Itals performance on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009. The Itals, a reggae group hailing from Jamaica, asked the crowd, Give us some peace!

Festivalgoers form peace signs with their hands in Peace Park while listening to the Itals' performance on Saturday. The Itals, a reggae group hailing from Jamaica, asked the crowd, "Give us some peace!"

And there’s more music:

Texas country singer James Hand tips his hat at the end of his performance on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009, at the stage at Seventh and Locust Streets during the third annual Roots N Blues N BBQ Festival. Hand, who has appeared on Nashvilles Grand Ole Opry, also played at the Whole Hog Lounge for the VIP guests.

Texas country singer James Hand tips his hat at the end of his performance on Saturday at the stage at Seventh and Locust Streets during the third annual Roots 'N Blues 'N BBQ Festival. Hand, who has appeared on Nashville's Grand Ole Opry, also played at the Whole Hog Lounge for the VIP guests.

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90ish days of summer

After much agony, introspection and discussion, I am finally at peace with the fact that there are some things I just can’t understand at this point in my life.

Nothing heavy-handed here, folks. I’m just talking about a public fresh-food market. But that comes later in this entry.

On June 28, Jeff and I met my brother’s fiancee and one of the other bridesmaids at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. After we wandered around the largest Roman Catholic church in North America, we hopped on the Metro and explored Eastern Market, which had just reopened for the first time in more than two years.

But first, here’s the basilica, which is a short walk from the Brookland-Catholic University Metro stop on the red line.

The exterior of the basilica. Quite impressive.

The exterior of the basilica. Quite impressive.

Religious architecture has always bewildered me, but it sure is pretty.

I was surprised about access within the building. Jeff and I just walked right in and ambled around. I had the feeling that as long as we didn’t disrupt any of the ongoing services in a few of the sanctuaries or enter any private offices, we had free reign of the place. It was a Sunday, for goodness’ sake, and we were wandering the upper church and clicking our DSLRs.

blah

View from the altar. I would be more descriptive, but religious architecture terminology is beyond me.

After taking a few photos, we went to Eastern Market, which is D.C.’s oldest and longest-running public fresh-food market. And here’s where I’m afraid I might get a lot of flak: I’m honestly not entirely sure what draws people there. (Forgive the superfluous use of adverbs.)

Opening weekend at Eastern Market. Photo by Jeff.

Opening weekend at Eastern Market. Photo by Jeff.

I don’t mean to come off as a non-native/bright-eyed intern who comes to town and tries to ingratiate herself with the locals (or, worse yet, poke fun at them). Nor do I want to seem like a blissful ignoramus whose mantra is “I don’t get it.” Rather, I relish learning, trying to understand and passing on knowledge and information. That’s just what I aim to do as a (photo)journalist.

But sometimes, I just don’t understand things as completely as I’d like.

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90ish days of summer

SILVER SPRING, Md. — Yesterday, Jeff and I headed out from his house around 2:30 or 3 p.m. to explore the D.C. area. For the first time since my weeklong stay in New York City in 2001, I took the train into town. (No, the St. Louis METRO between the airport and Washington University in St. Louis does not count — sorry!)

A couple strolls away from a departing train in the Metro Center.

A couple strolls away from a departing train in the Metro Center.

When we emerged from the Smithsonian station, the first thing we noticed was how shabby the National Mall looks. I hadn’t been there in seven or eight years, but I certainly didn’t remember the sand/gravel walkways extending as far into the grassy areas as they do now. And where there is grass, it is long and unkempt. Just a tad shabby.

We first visited the National Museum of American History, which is undergoing a lengthy renovation (most of the interior work has been completed).

Where the Star-Spangled Banner once hung for visitors to see when they first entered the National Museum of American History, a metallic rendition of that flag is now mounted. On the other side of the wall is the original flag that inspired Francis Scott Key to write what later became the American national anthem.

Where the Star-Spangled Banner once hung for visitors to see when they first entered the National Museum of American History, a metallic rendition of that flag is now mounted. On the other side of the wall is the original flag that inspired Francis Scott Key to write what later became the American national anthem.

We toured the museum for a while. Besides the renovations and a relatively small photo gallery devoted to Pres. Obama’s inauguration/etc., there didn’t seem to be much new since I’d been to the museum in 2002. So we left and started to head toward the National Gallery of Art‘s Sculpture Garden, but we were sidetracked into the National Museum of Natural History and never made it to the sculpture garden after all.

I’d only been to one of museum’s first-floor wings — the one with the dinosaur skeletons, of course — but we definitely explored more. I was impressed by how much there is within the building, which is beautiful in and of itself.

I wanted to end the day at a monument or memorial, so when we departed that museum, we headed south. It was only natural to pause by the Washington Monument first.

As symmetrical, straight-on a shot of the Washington Monument as I can get without a tripod and about two hours of composing. Id never visited the monument before, but this is about as close as I intend to get for a while.

As symmetrical, straight-on a shot of the Washington Monument as I can get without a tripod and about two hours of composing. I'd never visited the monument before, but this is about as close as I intend to get for a while.

We began to go to the Thomas Jefferson Memorial

Walking along the Tidal Basin toward the Thomas Jefferson Memorial.

Walking along the Tidal Basin toward the Thomas Jefferson Memorial.

…but then I decided I wanted to visit the Maine Avenue Fish Market, after seeing it featured in the journalism movie State of Play.

The fish market is, surprisingly, only three or four blocks from the Thomas Jefferson Memorial and the Tidal Basin.

The iconic Captain Whites storefront - one of 10 or so such fresh seafood vendors in the market.

The iconic Captain White's storefront - one of 10 or so such fresh seafood vendors in the market.

A bicyclist picks up some fresh seafood from the Maine Avenue Fish Market.

A bicyclist picks up some fresh seafood from the Maine Avenue Fish Market.

Jeff and I picked up some (cooked) shrimp and raw oysters, which we took back to the Thomas Jefferson Memorial to eat. But since food and drink are not allowed at the memorial, we first looked around and took photos at the memorial before eating.

Walking back out of the Thomas Jefferson Memorial.

Walking back out of the Thomas Jefferson Memorial.

After Jeff taught me how to eat a raw oyster (something I’d never thought I’d ever do!), we hurried back to the metro station. It was dark and getting pretty chilly, and our legs hurt. I’m guessing that, with the museums included, we walked 8-10 miles yesterday.

On our way back to the metro station. The building to the right is the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.

On our way back to the metro station. The building to the right is the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.

As @robweir pointed out, there are a lot of free things to do in the D.C. area. Everything we did yesterday — except for our ice cream sandwiches, the metro fare and the seafood — was 100 percent free. Which I like. And which I’m sure my wallet appreciates.

Today, we took it easy: we saw Angels & Demons and got ice cream from Coldstone. Tomorrow, I think we are going to the National Zoo — where Happy the Hippo is, but not for long!

As always, you can view far more D.C. photos HERE.

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