Lunch at the Market

For me, the hardest part about living in Tennessee was being 500 miles away from Eastern Market. It was a rare weekend that I didn't stop by to fill my shopping bag with food I couldn't find any place else -- things like super high fat heavy cream, perfect prime grade steaks, organic fingerling potatoes, pungent horseradish.... Over the years, the food hall at the Market became my "Cheers," you know, the place where everybody knew my name.

Shawn's been dropping me off at the train this week while my car's in the shop. He finished work early today, and drove all the way into DC to pick me up. He was hungry, so I suggested that we stop at the Market for crab cakes at The Market Lunch. When I was waiting for Shawn to pick up his order, Tom Glasgow, the owner, stopped me with an enthusiastic "Hey stranger!" and asked why he hadn't seen me in a while.

For that reason alone, it's good to be back!