Arts & Entertainment
The way to your partner’s heart
Several posh bistros offer perfect settings for Valentine’s romance

Who knew sushi was an aphrodisiac? Mike Olson and Dean Barnes get close at the fabulous new Tsunami. (Blade photo by Michael Key)
Feb. 14 is D-Day for romance — the annual Valentine’s Day celebration of affection between intimate companions or those looking for it.
So consider a few ways to show your affection with food, by dining out on the day itself.
For sushi lovers, the new Tsunami Sushi and Lounge on 14th Street, N.W., between N and Rhode Island Avenue is a great start.
There are many types of sushi, but most often we think of it as what is actually “sashimi,” when it’s simply raw fish that’s been sliced, or as “nigiri,” when it’s a mounded rectangle of rice topped with something.
Bottom line: Sushi is sexy. To the eyes — and on the tongue. Just ask Vena (but her intimates call her “Wee”) W. Doungchan, the stunning and seductive Thai-born hostess and marvelous manager at Tsunami. But the restaurant and bar’s slogan nevertheless is “we don’t make waves, we make sushi.”
Born a boy biologically in small-town Thailand in 1973, Vena (a name she chose for herself to replace her male name, Weerasak, says she knew from at least age 6 that she was not a boy but a girl. When she could, though never at school, she often dressed in skirts from then on and when she went to university at 18 to study hotel management, she says “I grew my hair, put on make-up,” and a year later began hormone therapy.

Vena W. Doungchan, the Thai-born hostess and marvelous manager at Tsunami. (Blade photo by Michael Key)
She moved to the United States in 2000 and after a number of years first in San Francisco and then New York City, she was asked last year by the owner of Thai Tanic, the restaurant located beneath second-floor Tsunami, to come to D.C. and help open what was at first planned only as a bar and lounge but later expanded to the sushi menu, under the skilled culinary baton of Vietnam-born but Ohio-raised executive chef Nick Vu Hoang. Not to be missed are several of his favorites, such as a tuna tartare topped with a quail egg or duck-breast nigiri topped with luscious seared foie gras and miso-flavored pineapple and plum.
Like Vena, the restaurant and bar are sleek and stunning, and include an intimate third-floor loft area, with a modern look of contrasting white and black leather chairs and sofas.
Switch cuisine gears now for the new Italian Renaissance in the casual but upscale brasserie style of Ristorante Posto, also on 14th Street, N.W., serving classic and modern Italian food (but with a clear accent on the latter mood) that is simply “delizioso,” accessible comfort food to set your love thermostat on warm. A little-sister restaurant to the even more upscale downtown D.C. trattoria-like Tosca (1112 F St., N.W.), Posto is presided over (like Tosca) by its executive chef — a maestro famed among foodies — Massimo Fabbri, born just 30 miles north of Florence who as a boy aspired to become a chef, who moved when grown to London and then in 2001 to D.C. where he worked for a time at Tosca, revisited Italy for a several-year stretch, but then returned to D.C. and now lives with his wife Alexis just a few blocks from Posto.
Located only steps away from the Studio Theatre in a onetime car dealership, with floor-to-ceiling windows, simple cool lighting and stark furnishings and bright artwork, Posto has become a stylish mecca for trend-spotters and is known especially as a recent haunt for Obama White House and administration heavy hitters like former chief of staff Rahm Emanuel and political strategist David Axelrod.
Posto’s fare includes a tasty array of nine kinds of pizza fresh-baked in a custom-built wood-burning oven. But its appetizers — like a dish of smooth, creamy polenta topped with rich tomato sauce and chunks of sausage — are already legendary. Also try the antipasti such as wild boar salami and duck prosciutto or the “capra” of fresh goat milk cheese with chives and black pepper.
Turn now to another great source of comfort food but in the form of contemporary American cuisine — the Beacon Bar and Grill, at the corner of 17th Street and Rhode Island Avenue, N.W.
Helmed by its affable general manager, Iranian-born Kamran Vakli, with a menu styled by executive chef Steve Hunter, and the new look in decor created by D.C. interior designer Walter Gagliano, BB&G is a triumph thronged by crowds drawn by its festive Sunday brunch, considered among the best in D.C. and also called by one reviewer D.C.’s “best bet for dinner.”
In its new interior makeover, with its palette of bold colors in fabrics and lighting choices, designer Gagliano (he’s created the signature look and feel for more than 25 D.C. eateries) took inspiration from the classic elements portrayed in Vermeer’s portrait “Girl with a Pearl Earring,” aiming, says Gagliano, for a “cleaner, more contemporary vibe.” And executive chef Hunter, who declares that, “the future is going green,” boasts of the restaurant’s reliance on local sources for seafood and veggies and that “we produce our own charcuterie and fresh sausages from organic beef and pork.”
For sure, on Valentine’s Day try one of the offerings priced (according to the selected entree) from $24.95 to $34.95, such as the crab empanadas with mole amarillo and avocado cilantro mayonnaise, grilled Amish chicken breast, or a surf and turf of fillet steak and grilled shrimp.
Lauren and Carrie Dana-Evans enjoying a romantic dinner at the Beacon Bar and Grill. (Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
For women seeking a friendly environment, try Lace. Opened in late 2008 and located in Brookland at 2214 Rhode Island Ave., N.E., Lace is owned by lesbian Linda McAllister, a small-town girl originally from North Carolina who moved to San Antonio, Texas to “come out” and also earn her undergraduate degree there in social work. In 1995, she moved to D.C. and now lives in Brookland where she eventually decided to open an upscale restaurant, the fulfillment of her long-held dream, where “every night is ladies night,” for women of all ages but also open to LGBT and straight alike.
The slogan is “sophisticated. mature. sexy. diva. you.” Though located in a former tattoo parlor, from its chic decor, with jeweled chandeliers and textured walls and dim lighting — and its relaxed dance floo — Lace is decidedly upscale and offers dinner only, open just on weekends Friday through Sunday. The eclectic food itself is also a big draw, such as the sauteed crab cakes, the tempura seafood dish with a Cajun twist and a mouth-watering veggie quesadilla.
D.C. suffers from an embarrassment of riches when it comes to LGBT-friendly places to dine on Valentine’s Day. Here are more options to consider when booking your big night out:
Banana Café, 500 8th St., S.E., bananacafedc.com
Black Fox Lounge, 1723 Connecticut Ave., N.W., blackfoxlounge.com
Café Berlin, 322 Massachusetts Ave., N.E., cafeberlindc.com
Café La Ruche, 1039 31st St., N.W., cafelaruche.com
Commissary, 1443 P St., N.W., commissarydc.com
Logan Tavern, 1423 P St., N.W., logantavern.com
DC Noodles, 1410 U St., N.W., dcnoodles.com
Freddie’s Beach Bar, 555 S. 23rd St., Arlington, Va., freddiesbeachbar.com
Le Chat Noir, 4907 Wisconsin Ave., N.W., lechatnoirrestaurant.com
M Street Bar & Grill, 2033 M St., N.W.
Rice, 1608 14th St., N.W., ricerestaurant.com
Books
Exploring Renée Richards’s life through lens of a trans author
Surprises await in new book about pioneering tennis star
‘Finding Renée Richards’
By Julie Kliegman
c.2026, HarperOne
$28.99/272 pages
Come on in, the water’s fine.
Wade into it up to your ankles, your calves, your waist, you’ll be OK. You’ll adjust to the waves that swirl around you so come on, dive in, it’s all good. As in the new book “Finding Renée Richards” by Julie Kliegman, that goes for swimming, and for controversy.

Assigned to do a story on books written by trans tennis great Renée Richards, Julie Kleigman read the books and became “transfixed by a woman who had fought so hard to simply live as who she had long known she was….”. Their editor had figured that, as a nonbinary and trans individual, Kleigman would have “something incisive to say…” in an article. Instead, once they met and began interviewing Richards, Kliegman was left frustrated.
Born in the late summer of 1934, Richard Henry Raskind seemed to have arrived with a tennis racket in his hand. His mother was a psychiatrist; his father was an orthopedic surgeon who hoped “Dick” would follow his footsteps but Raskind was drawn instead to ophthalmology and tennis. He was also irresistibly drawn to wearing women’s clothing.
His sister knew of this pull and Raskind eventually came out to both parents, but few others on the tennis circuit were aware. When Raskind visited his hometown of New York City, however, he enjoyed furtively going out in women’s clothing but he also tried to squash the desire; in the meantime, he fell in love, married, fathered a son, and eventually learned that it was possible to become the woman he knew he really was.
To continue playing tennis professionally was a bonus.
And right there were the disagreements Kleigman had with Richards.
Richards, “To this day… [makes] a point of describing herself as a woman, period,” says Kleigman, but she firmly acknowledged Richard, almost as a separate individual, insisting that Kleigman use “him/his” pronouns when describing her earlier life.
And as for tennis and trans women’s participation in the sport, Richards had something even more frustrating to say.
Take that as a fair warning: you might be equally surprised at what author Julie Kliegman uncovered in “Finding Renée Richards,” and you may be truly gobsmacked by reading opinions from other women about the topic of trans women in sports.
That’s the main, huge point of interest in this fascinating book; the other is Richards’s life as seen through the lens of a trans individual. Kleigman’s wrestling with the 90-year-old Richards’ firmly dug-in heels is, in itself, worth your time as a study of highly varying viewpoints. That Kleigman and Richards have both lived at least a part of trans history is somewhat of a key to understanding how this book unfolds, as Kleigman offers up Richards’s tale. Readers who are able to read between the lines will be riveted.
If you’re a sports fan and you have opinions, you must read this book – and that goes double if it’s tennis you love. Also check out “Finding Renée Richards” if you just want a raucously good and very fine read.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Movies
Queer team brings girl power to fully baked ‘The Wrong Girls’
Perfect film for anyone who loves stoner comedies
Generally speaking, the “Stoner Comedy” genre is aimed at an audience of “stoners,” and if you’re not one, you probably don’t get the appeal.
If you are, though, you’re likely to enjoy “The Wrong Girls,” the new indie from screenwriter Dylan Meyer in her directorial debut, which began a theatrical release on Aug. 14. The plot is ridiculous, the humor is lowbrow, and you won’t find any substance in it except for the ones that get consumed onscreen – but that’s exactly the reason why it’s pretty much perfect for anybody who loves stoner comedies, and the fact that everyone involved commits to it whole-heartedly might just makes it all the more so.
Starring Kristen Stewart (Meyer’s real-life spouse) opposite Alia Shawkat as a pair of broke, directionless best friends who share an L.A. apartment and spend an impressive amount of effort finding new and elaborate ways of consuming cannabis, it opens with them facing a financial crisis; Frankie (Stewart) is thousands of dollars in debt for a scholarship to Stanford – even though she failed out before graduating – and Molly (Shawkat), who dreams of being a professional chef, channels her creative cooking skills into creating off-the-wall recipes for cannabis-infused snacks. To make matters worse, rent is due, and – as usual – they are short.
Their situation gets a sudden surprise windfall when Frankie (through a freak case of mistaken identity) ends up in possession of a briefcase full of a mysterious liquid they assume is some kind of drug. Thinking they can sell it for rent money, they decide to try it for themselves, first, resulting in a pink-and-bubbly hallucinogenic experience in which they can hear each other’s thoughts (and their cats’ thoughts, too) – an effect that lingers even after the “trip” subsides.
Their plan to sell the substance hits a snag, however, when a cadre of gun-toting Euro-thugs in dark suits show up on the scene trying to get their hands on it. Forced to go on the run, they eventually learn that the substance they took is a top-secret experimental drug, developed by a scientist (Kate McKinnon) researching human consciousness – and that the Europeans work for a dangerous rival who wants the formula for his own nefarious purposes. Can two 20-something stoners successfully elude and overcome a team of international mercenaries on a mission? Probably not, but the superpowers they seem to be developing might improve their chances – if they can figure out how to use them, that is.
Cut from the same cloth as every weed-centric movie farce you’ve ever seen, “The Wrong Girls” leans into most of the genre’s usual formula points, first and foremost of which is that it doubles as a buddy comedy. From Cheech and Chong, through Jay and Silent Bob, to Harold and Kumar, these films have always relied on the goofy chemistry between two friends, and Mayer (who wrote as well as directed) makes a special point of following that blueprint – because it’s also where her film sets itself apart from most of the other examples within a traditionally male-dominated genre by making the buddies female instead.
It’s a simple switch, and it really doesn’t have any significant impact on the general “vibe” of the story; the dynamic is more or less the same familiar back-and-forth banter between two people who have spent years getting high together, and their antics are just as stupid. Even so, in another way, flipping the usual gender of its protagonists makes an essential difference, simply because we’re so accustomed to seeing it the other way around – but women also like to get high, so why shouldn’t we see them doing it in the movies? After all, the now-legendary Comedy Central series “Broad City” (to which “The Wrong Girls” also owes a debt of inspiration) brought a pair of stoner chicks to TV over a decade ago with the epic pairing of Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson, so it’s high time (if you’ll pardon the pun) we see the same on our big screens, too.
There are other twists that spruce up the formula too – a boyfriend (Zack Fox) who sparks girl buddy jealousy by asking Molly to move in with him; the crashing of a party thrown by a corporate douchebag (Tony Hale) who provides a great target for the anti-establishment satire that’s almost obligatory for the genre; and a plot thread about giant squid biochemistry that adds an air of comedic mysticism while tapping into the “cephalopod awareness” trend that has wriggled its way into our cultural discourse around ethical seafood consumption. All of it is written and executed with a cleverness that makes it easy to laugh at all the “dumb” comedy without it feeling too much like a guilty pleasure.
Steward and Shawkat, needless to say, carry the film; they find just the right blend of authentic friendship and “train wreck” energy to make their relationship both wacky and relatable. LaKeith Stanfield brings an admirable seriousness to his role as the guy who delivers the briefcase to the wrong person before becoming a comic foil and ending up a reluctant ally; stoner movie veterans Seth Rogan and Kumail Nanjiani amusingly lend their voices to the girls’ two cats; but it’s McKinnon who raises the bar, entering the story late in the game to become the hands-down MVP in a comedy that is only improved by her proven gift for stealing every scene she’s in. It’s also worth noting that Geena Davis turns up for a memorable appearance that feels like a nod to that grandmother of all girl-buddy films, “Thelma and Louise.”
What gives “The Wrong Girls” an extra appeal for queer stoners (and we know there are a lot of you) is that it features two queer stars in a queer-written-and-directed comedy that also features several other prominent queer (or queer adjacent) cast members, despite not having any specifically queer story elements. Maybe it’s the camp sensibility, or the obvious lampooning of overtly toxic heterosexual “types,” or just a general feeling of irreverence and a sharply counter-cultural edge – but somehow, the whole thing comes across as an expression of queer perspective that manages to run circles around the banality that might otherwise easily have turned the movie into an unfunny slog through a territory we’ve all seen plenty of times before.
All that said, it’s important to return to the original point that stoner movies are not necessarily meant for everyone – and fresh as it might feel, “The Wrong Girls” is definitely a stoner movie. There’s a lot of humor (and we mean A LOT) that will fall flat for those who don’t “get it,” and a considerable amount of absurdity and excess which will probably only frustrate viewers without a natural taste for it. Like even the best of the genre, it’s not intended to be deep, or even coherent – it’s all just for the sake of mindless, feel-good fun for those with a taste for it. So be warned by that caveat if you think it applies to you – otherwise, we suggest you grab a pack of edibles and jump on board for the ride.
Out & About
UPDATE: Impulse Group’s ‘PrEP Pool Party’ cancelled
Organizers announce cancellation of event
Impulse Group DC was to host a “PrEP Pool Party” on Thursday, Aug. 27 at 8 p.m. at Vida Fitness: Navy Yard. However, organizers have announced that the event has been cancelled.
Visit @impulsegroupdc on Instagram for information on future events for Impulse Group DC.
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