There’s a new Chipotle in town.
The national chain famous for its huge burritos opened a new location at 1010 Vermont Ave. NW on Sunday, according to employees at the store. Signage for construction of the Chipotle went up earlier this year.
The new location — which seats roughly 30 people — joins Chipotle’s other outposts in Dupont Circle, Logan Circle, Chinatown, Mount Vernon Triangle and elsewhere.
Though Chipotle may be in an E. coli-related slump, that doesn’t appear to stop the burrito company from expanding.
Signage for the construction of D.C.’s newest Chipotle went up at 1010 Vermont Avenue NW some time earlier this week. When it opens, the forthcoming eatery will seat 29 people, according to building permits uncovered by the Washington Business Journal in September. (more…)
Chipotle customers can support local libraries today by doing what they do best — sinking their teeth into big burritos.
The D.C. Public Library has partnered with Chipotle Mexican Grill for an all-day city-wide fundraiser.
Here’s how it works: Chipotle customers who wish to participate need only show the image at the top of this post on their smartphone or mention the fundraiser to a cashier.
Half of the cost of each purchase will be donated to the library.
Click here for a list of Chipotle locations in D.C.
Image via Chipotle and D.C. Public Library Foundation
Or “How to Succeed at Chipotle Without Really Crying”
From Scott Thompson. Follow Scott on Twitter @foureyedblond
Corn tortillas are always better.(Luis Gomez Photos)
I have a crush on my Chipotle manager.
It’s the truth — a waistline shattering truth that has wreaked havoc on my daily routine. I imagine my tale is not unique. In a city where restaurants trump recipes, the potential of mixing food and romance is an ever-present danger.
It all started three weeks ago at the tortilla station.
I had stepped out for dinner mid-way through a late night at work. The neighborhood surrounding my office is filled with dietary landmines, Chipotle being the most dangerous. The queue moves fast, the menu options always appear fresh and the dim warehouse-chic lighting smooths away stress lines. It’s an evil combination that has resulted in a monthly mail delivery from my mother, containing a Chipotle gift card and a reminder to “eat more fruit.”
That night three weeks ago started out like any other night. I put on my coat, walked across the street and prepared for the weekly Sophian choice between tortilla and bowl.
“Three soft tacos to go, please,” I said quietly, reaching for my wallet to extract the gift card.
“Corn tortillas or flour?” said a voice.
My eyes lifted from the glass counter and met those of a stranger. I had more or less memorized the faces of my local Chipotle team. This face was new. He stood roughly at my height, wearing hipster glasses, a black shirt and a curious smile.
“I… didn’t… know you had corn tortillas?” (True.) “They are more authentically Mexican, right?” (True). “Sorry, I just haven’t been here in a while.” (Laughably false.)
“Not many people do. And to be frank, corn tortillas are really only good if you’re dining in – the tortillas fall apart quickly if you add salsa.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” I fumbled in my coat pocket, desperate for a missed text that could distract me from the chiseled hands that pushed my aluminum dish down the counter.
“Pico de gallo?”
I said yes, and asked for extra medium sauce — the final frontier before I could move to the cashier and escape with my meal and dignity in hand.
“Careful! I don’t want you to get sauce on that nice sweater of yours!” said the smiling eyes behind the frames.
Everything disintegrated from that point forward.
“Oh I won’t! Haha!” I barked, as my head fell backwards and to the left, as if I were auditioning for the scene inPretty Woman when Richard slams the jewelry case shut in front of an unsuspecting Julia.
The elevated eyebrows on the cashier’s face summarized the entire spectacle.
Two days later I returned for lunch, with curious colleagues in tow. “You have great glasses,” I muttered somewhere between pinto and pollo. He thanked me, feigned recognition and moved to the next customer.
A week later, I returned in the evening, hoping to recreate our first encounter, away from the frenzied lunch crowd.
“Hi, again,” I said, timidly waving my gloved hand above the counter. At this point, I might as well have held up a sprig of Cilantro, sang “It Only Takes a Moment” and called it a day.
Unrequited crushes are as tragic as they are common. In the days and weeks since, I have realized that “we” will never be. I continue to cross the street to Chipotle from time to time, smiling quietly as I proceed down the buffet line before going on my way. But I have accepted fate – as well as an existential truth that I never fully understood, until now.
The connection between food and love is sacred – as is the separation. Parisians cannot fall in love with their local baker. Italians cannot fall in love with their local barista. I cannot fall in love with my local Chipotle manager. It would break down the precious relationship between chef and customer — between daily routine and daily meal — between romantic dreams and romantic realities.
I will forever be grateful to Chipotle for opening my eyes to this fact.
And to Qdoba, for opening a franchise across the street.
This column originally ran on Borderstan.com on February 7, 2012.
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The No. 1 story in the Lifestyle section for 2012. (Luis Gomez Photos)
It’s that time again… a look back before we start 2013. Like last December, we will provide you with a list of the most-read stories on Borderstan by category. Today are the Top 10 from the Lifestyle section for 2012.
The web is forever, so they say. Posted stories continue to get hits long after originally going up on the site. As a result, some of the most-read stories for the year were sometimes published the year before — especially if they were published late the year before.
Top 10 Bordertan Lifestyle Stories of 2012
These stories were Top 10 most read in 2012 in the Lifestyle section on Borderstan.com. Former columnist Scott Thompson had 4 of the Top 10 stories with his musings about life and former pet-writer Tori Tyree had three of The Top 10.
- How to Succeed at Chipotle Without Really Crying (Scott Thompson)
- 10 Things I Wish I Had Known When I Graduated From College (Scott Thompson)
- Beyond Neverland: The Art of (Finally) Growing Up in Washington, DC (Scott Thompson)
- The Virtues of Pumpkin and Yogurt for Doggy Digestive Ills (Tori Tyree)
- Cat Scratch Fever: 5 Tips to Protect that New Sofa (Not Declawing) (Tori Tyree)
- The Great Migration (Fox Deatry)
- Urban Etiquette: Dudes, Don’t Show Your Junk on the Balcony (Mary El Pearce)
- Pit Bull Myths and Facts (Do You Fear Newfoundlands?) (Tori Tyree)
- DC Rent Prices: How High is Too High? (Rachel Nania)
- A Talk with The Greatest Generation: “I Would Like To Go Dancing Again” (Scott Thompson)
Get an RSS Feed for all Borderstan stories or subscribe to Borderstan’s daily email newsletter.
Corn tortillas are always better. (Luis Gomez Photos)
From Scott Thompson. Follow Scott on Twitter @foureyedblond or email him at [email protected].
I have a crush on my Chipotle manager.
It’s the truth — a waistline shattering truth that has wreaked havoc on my daily routine. I imagine my tale is not unique. In a city where restaurants trump recipes, the potential of mixing food and romance is an ever-present danger.
It all started three weeks ago at the tortilla station.
I had stepped out for dinner mid-way through a late night at work. The neighborhood surrounding my office is filled with dietary landmines, Chipotle being the most dangerous. The queue moves fast, the menu options always appear fresh and the dim warehouse-chic lighting smooths away stress lines. It’s an evil combination that has resulted in a monthly mail delivery from my mother, containing a Chipotle gift card and a reminder to “eat more fruit.”
‘That night’ three weeks ago started out like any other night. I put on my coat, walked across the street and prepared for the weekly Sophian choice between tortilla and bowl.
“Three soft tacos to go, please,” I said quietly, reaching for my wallet to extract the gift card.
“Corn tortillas or flour?” said a voice.
My eyes lifted from the glass counter and met those of a stranger. I had more or less memorized the faces of my local Chipotle team. This face was new. He stood roughly at my height, wearing hipster glasses, a black shirt and a curious smile.
“I….didn’t….know you had corn tortillas?” (True.) “They are more authentically Mexican, right?” (True). “Sorry, I just haven’t been here in a while.” (Laughably false.)
“Not many people do. And to be frank, corn tortillas are really only good if you’re dining in – the tortillas fall apart quickly if you add salsa.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” I fumbled in my coat pocket, desperate for a missed text that could distract me from the chiseled hands that pushed my aluminum dish down the counter.
“Pico de gallo?”
I said yes, and asked for extra medium sauce — the final frontier before I could move to the cashier and escape with my meal and dignity in hand.
“Careful! I don’t want you to get sauce on that nice sweater of yours!” said the smiling eyes behind the frames.
Everything disintegrated from that point forward.
“Oh I won’t! Haha!” I barked, as my head fell backwards and to the left, as if I were auditioning for the scene in Pretty Woman when Richard slams the jewelry case shut in front of an unsuspecting Julia.
The elevated eyebrows on the cashier’s face summarized the entire spectacle.
Two days later I returned for lunch, with curious colleagues in tow. “You have great glasses,” I muttered somewhere between pinto and pollo. He thanked me, feigned recognition and moved to the next customer.
A week later, I returned in the evening, hoping to recreate our first encounter, away from the frenzied lunch crowd. “Hi, again,” I said, timidly waving my gloved hand above the counter. At this point, I might as well have held up a sprig of Cilantro, sang “It Only Takes a Moment” and called it a day.
Unrequited crushes are as tragic as they are common. In the days and weeks since, I have realized that “we” will never be. I continue to cross the street to Chipotle from time to time, smiling quietly as I proceed down the buffet line before going on my way. But I have accepted fate – as well as an existential truth that I never fully understood, until now.
The connection between food and love is sacred – as is the separation. Parisians cannot fall in love with their local baker. Italians cannot fall in love with their local barista. I cannot fall in love with my local Chipotle manager. It would break down the precious relationship between chef and customer — between daily routine and daily meal — between romantic dreams and romantic realities.
I will forever be grateful to Chipotle for opening my eyes to this fact.
And to Qdoba, for opening a franchise across the street.
Like reading Borderstan’s Lifestyle stories? Get an RSS Feed for the Lifestyle Section, or an RSS Feed for all Borderstan stories.
Pearl Dive at 1612 14th Street NW had its soft opening on Saturday night. (Luis Gomez Photos)
From Michelle Lancaster. You can follow her and tell her your news on Twitter @MichLancaster. Email her at [email protected].
Another Look at Pearl Dive
So you decided you didn’t have enough money to give to charity this weekend and skipped the Pearl Dive Oyster Bar soft opening for charity. If the picture didn’t make you reconsider your decision, here are some more pictures! Washingtonian has a great slide show of photos as well as some drool-worthy descriptions of dishes. Oysters mixed with bacon are an extra special aphrodisiac, or so I hear. Or want. Delivered to me in bed. Sorry. Back to news.
More Food News… Chipotle with Soy Sauce?
Chipotle, the Tex-Mex fast service lunch time staple of hungry hordes of office workers, has been hard at work at a spinoff concept for more than a year. It’s called ShopHouse and it involves noodles. At the concept restaurant, you can get noodles or bowls starting September 15. At least, that is the date the Washington City Paper is going with, despite newspaper on the windows. It definitely has the attention of the national media, as the first location opens in Dupont soon…Esquire and the LA Times are drooling over it.
Chief Lanier Takes on FOP
It was impossible to be anywhere near DC or a television on 9/11 without feeling the impact of the day. It also was hard to not see the stepped up police presence all over the East Coast and especially around the monuments, bridges, tunnels and DC landmarks. However, these officers are paid (and deserve more) than just our gratitude. This is the sticking point between the brewing fight between Chief Lanier and the Fraternal Order of Police. Lanier says the ‘crime emergency’ warranted 12-hour shifts; FOP says they should have planned better. Decide for yourself at We Love DC.
A Place to Spend Extra Cash
For those not trimming the fat, Foundry is set to open in the old Boundless Yoga spot soon. As U Street Girl reports, the store will sell vintage furniture. Not maybe in the budget, but for those of you living high on the hog, it is some really nice stuff on sale at the new store in the ‘hood.
Worth It for the Headline
The headline is, “Kwame Brown Tackles Ethics Reform.” It is brought to you with a mostly straight face from our friends at DCist. Among one of his issues is Constituent Fund Reform, where he brings to task a number of members, including Jack Evans, for their expenditures. Also said with a straight face, Kwame saying he finds himself in “a perfect position to push ethics reform.” Folks, we can’t make it up.
