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The way to your partner’s heart

Several posh bistros offer perfect settings for Valentine’s romance

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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

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Theater

‘Feeling Afraid’ explores life of a neurotic stand-up comic

Navigating sex, work, and possibly love in London

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Steven Webb in ‘Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen’ (Photo by DJ Corey)

‘Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going to Happen’
Through July 12
Studio Theatre
1501 14th St., N.W.
$55-$102
Studiotheatre.org

Wordily yet rightly titled, solo show “Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen” dives deeply into the world of a neurotic stand-up comic as he navigates sex, work, and possibly love in London. 

Busy arranging hookups and dates on “The App,” the 36-year-old gay funnyman juggles a full dance card; still he’s never been in a romantic relationship. While he’s willing to give love a shot, he’s not pressed about it. As he says, he harbors no fear of dying alone.

Currently making its American premiere at Studio Theatre, this darkly humorous Edinburgh Fringe import features terrific out English actor Steven Webb as The Comedian who’s about to explore what it means to spend all his time with one man. 

At Studio’s intimate Mead Theatre, Kat Heath’s minimal set says standard comedy club (fluorescent tube lighting, the mic with a long cord, a single stool backed by a rose-colored curtain), but gay playwright Marcelo Dos Santos has conjured something much more than a live comedy set. 

Yes, The Comedian bounces onstage in his red Converse high tops, jeans, and pink shirt with a huge mouth emblazoned on the back, but he delivers more than jokes. At times hilariously self-deprecating, then dark, and occasionally a lesson on what makes standup work, this is a layered, well-acted piece.

With Webb (a keen caricaturist of types and voices) playing all the parts while conducting The Comedian’s hilariously frenetic interior monologue, “Feeling Afraid” takes us through a summer of love. It seems after six chaste dates with The American, our nervous hero has found Mr. Right. The American is earnest, smart, hesitant to initiate sex. He’s also well built with a beautiful smile. And strangely, he’s been medically advised not to laugh aloud.  

The Comedian delights in the joys of new love: dates, first kisses, sex, and then suddenly spending all of his time with the adored. Visits to art galleries become fun. Eating home cooked meals followed by grim documentaries is a thing. The Comedian is beguiled as his own boyish figure fills out, but something isn’t right. He can’t entirely relax.

Along the way we meet the Aussie doctor, our protagonist’s longtime hookup; a young runner with some exceptional body parts; the random third in a failed threesome; grumpy working comics, male and female; and an ineffectual counselor. 

Webb gives a lightning-fast performance that boggles the mind (in terms velocity and virtuosity). He can be impish, very impish. He’s nervous energy incarnate, flashing jazz hands, grimacing but handsome when still. He’s likeable, a necessity when delivering a hilariously rude joke just feet away from two stone-faced audience members. (Perhaps they were laughing on the inside? At any rate, they stayed through the end the show.)

Produced by the team behind Fringe hits “Fleabag” and “Baby Reindeer,” small stage works that were developed into major TV screen successes, “Feeling Afraid” is funny for sure, and it’s also highly confessional, sexually explicit, and raw.

Written by Dos Santos during COVID lockdown, the piece was a smash hit in the 2022 Edinburgh Fringe before finding further success in London. Its depiction of a youngish queer guy navigating the big city rings entirely true. Like so much Fringe stuff, the one-man show is delightfully lewd and standup inspired.

One little moan: the show closes cleverly but too abruptly with its star dashing offstage without sufficiently basking in the admiration and applause of his thoroughly chuffed audience.

They say third time’s a charm, and regarding “Feeling Afraid,” I’d agree. After two performance cancellations (first for laryngitis and the second involving faulty air conditioning on an especially muggy June evening), I made my third trek to Studio where I found both the actor and AC in very fine fettle. And truly, Webb’s work was more than worth the wait.

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Photos

PHOTOS: Baltimore Pride Festival

LGBTQ celebration held at Druid Hill Park

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A scene from the 2026 Baltimore Pride Festival. (Washington Blade photo by Linus Berggren)

The 2026 Baltimore Pride Festival, “Pride in the Park,” was held at Druid Hill Park on Sunday, June 14.

(Washington Blade photos by Linus Berggren)

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Movies

‘Stop! That! Train!’ is made for fans, but fun for all

RuPaul stars as President Gagwell trying to avert a tragedy

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RuPaul and Matt Rogers star in ‘Stop! That! Train!’ (Photo courtesy of World of Wonder/Bleecker Street)

Before I can begin a review of “Stop! That! Train!” (the movie that’s been algorithmically dominating your queer social media feed in the form of ads for weeks now), I feel it’s necessary to provide a disclaimer: I am not a superfan of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

That doesn’t mean I’m NOT a fan, mind you. I’m just disclosing that I have never been the loyal viewer for whom each new episode is the highlight of the week, or followed the careers of the contestants I loved the most; I don’t know who won each season, or how many times they’ve been on the show. I barely even know any of the catch phrases. I say all this because you should know that, as someone who didn’t get any of the show references I’ve been told were laced throughout the movie, I’m probably not the person RuPaul and filmmaker Adam Shankman had in mind when they were making it.

I do, however, respect and adore the art of drag, not just as an expression of queer identity tied to a long tradition stretching back centuries, but as a powerful tool for satire. It’s a queer-eyed view that exposes the hypocritical norms and mainstream social “morality” in a form that goes right over the heads of anyone who isn’t in on the joke, and the Queens of “Drag Race” not only honor that tradition but live up to it. Make no mistake, the queer spirit of rebellion is alive and well in “Stop! That Train!” – even if it sometimes feels like it’s just along for the ride.

Mounted as a parody of old-school “disaster movies” – a genre that found its heyday in the same ‘70s and ‘80s period that also saw the success of classic movie spoofs like “Young Frankenstein” and “Airplane!” (which clearly serves as the primary blueprint) – Shankman’s film seems driven by an impulse toward the absurd as a kind of de facto social commentary, but puts the most emphasis on landing its jokes. It imagines a contemporary world where high-speed train travel is an actual thing in America (wouldn’t that be nice?) and a Black drag queen can be elected president (OK, maybe she’s a cisgender woman in context of the plot, but still), but in which everything is pretty much just as “off the rails” as it really is, anyway.

In the middle of it all are Tess and DeeDee (Ginger Minj and Jujubee, both popular “Drag Race” veterans), two “train stewardesses” who fake their way into jobs on the prestigious “Glamazonian Express” railway line and face hostility from the “mean girl” attendants who work there. The popularity contest soon takes a back seat, however, when the train finds itself speeding into a catastrophic “storm-o-ganza,” and they’re faced with the challenge of saving themselves – along with the train’s assortment of passengers – from all-but-certain doom. Fortunately, they’re not alone; under-appreciated train dispatcher Donna Dusk (Rachel Bloom) is doing her best to guide them from afar toward the least catastrophic outcome, and no less than American President Judy Gagwell (RuPaul Charles, of course) takes a personal interest in averting the disaster; after all, it could take a few points off of her popularity rating if she doesn’t. Can this plucky alliance of women-with-something-to-prove shepherd this runaway train (and everyone on board) to safety? Of course they can, and in the most ridiculous way possible.

Like the aforementioned “Airplane!” (the zany 1980 farce that was itself modeled after the popular “Airport” series of all-star disaster epics), “Stop! That! Train!” takes an approach to comedy that’s more like facing a high-speed pitching machine in a batting cage than watching a movie in a theater; it’s one joke after another, thrown rapid fire against the wall on the theory that at least some of them will stick – a time-honored tradition that, admittedly, results in a lot of them that dont. For every belly laugh, there’s a real groaner, and a fair number of the chuckles are “polite” ones, at best; but that, of course, is part of the appeal. Screenwriters Christina Friel and Connor Wright skew their humor toward the lowbrow – something the popular drag movement fully embraces, anyway – and make most of their characters into clowns as they freely transplant plot points and tropes into their ludicrous scenario; all of it’s on purpose, and most of it works, because this is the kind of movie that is intended to be as “stupid” as possible and we wouldn’t want it any other way.

Of course, some viewers will inevitably be underwhelmed by the movie’s humor; its borrowed tropes may feel less funny for being too familiar, sometimes the “lowbrow” might edge too closely on the “tasteless,” and the overall spirit of “bitchiness” could easily come across as just plain “mean” if one is in the wrong mood. Let’s face it, though: most of those people will probably not be going to see “Stop! That! Train!,” anyway. For the rest of us, even if more of its jokes fall flat than we might hope and some of the zingers don’t have the “zing” that they should, there’s still a cumulative effect that leaves the impression of a whole being greater than its parts. After all, sometimes we just want to have brainless fun at the movies instead of having to think too much about it, and nobody was expecting an Oscar-winner, were they?

As for the disaster movie plot, it’s impossible to take seriously, of course, but it does provide the opportunity to showcase a lot of characters – and caricatures – along the way. Minj and Jujubee are essentially the stars of the show, and their easy chemistry together helps them carry the film; RuPaul, every inch the superstar as ever, strides confidently into his presidential role and rightfully dominates every scene that he’s in, yet is graceful enough not to overwhelm or overshadow the work of his co-stars, especially Matt Rogers, who, as President Gagwell’s possibly psychopathic press secretary and confidante, shares more screen time with him than anyone else. 

Veteran comic actor (and “SNL” alumnus) Chris Parnell uses his hilariously deadpan lunacy to great advantage as the train’s conductor, and Brian Jordan Alvarez (“The English Teacher”) brings a smarmy charm as the co-conductor who doesn’t know how to operate a train – despite the questionable choice of using an exaggerated “Bill and Ted” era Keanu Reaves impression for his character’s voice. There’s a whole gallery of familiar faces on hand in bit parts and cameos as passengers on the train, who arguably provide more genuine comedy and interest than the main storyline. And even if she never sets foot on the train herself, Bloom (“Crazy Ex-Girlfriend”) is every bit on board for the ride, serving as a grounding force even as she gives herself over completely to the silliness.

And silly it certainly is. It’s as insubstantial as the AI-generated backgrounds used to create the action scenes of speeding train and the storm. And at the risk of repeating myself, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

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