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
Movies
‘Leviticus’ demonizes homophobia for gripping queer horror yarn
A genuinely engaging and terrifying supernatural drama
There’s something about horror films that makes them particularly apt as a vehicle for allegory. Vampires, zombies, ghosts, or seemingly death-proof serial killers can all easily be seen as metaphors for some lurking threat from the “dark side” of our own collective psyche, and stories about them are almost always cautionary tales that remind us that it’s the “dark side” of our own nature that we must confront in order for the danger to be eliminated.
This subtext has always been present in the genre, of course; but with the so-called “renaissance” of horror cinema that has taken place across the past decade or so, modern filmmakers in the genre have made increasingly bold choices with regard to how “sub” it is. “Get Out” or “Sinners” need no explanation to get across their allegorical points about racism, nor does “The Substance” require an expert to recognize its satirical observations about the toxic cultural obsession with youth and beauty. These are movies that wear their proverbial hearts on their sleeves, instead of masking them behind layers of cliched and “coded” plot tropes.
The same can definitely be said of “Leviticus,” the debut feature from Australian writer/director Adrian Chiarella, that not only hinges on a conceit that has obvious relevance to its not-so-hidden themes but tips off the whole thing by its very choice of title – a reference to the Old Testament book that is frequently cited by fundamentalist bigots as proof of God’s condemnation of homosexuality, and that sets up exactly what we are in for before the opening credits even begin to roll.
Set in a conservative rural town (in the Australian state of Victoria, though it will feel distinctly familiar to anyone who grew up in similar communities anywhere else in the world), it centers on Naim (Joe Bird), a teen boy newly transplanted there by his mother (Mia Wasikowska) – who has ties to a fundamentalist Christian enclave there – after the death of his father. Their new life – like seemingly everything else in the community – is tied directly to the church, which makes it doubly inconvenient when Ryan (Stacy Clausen), son of the town’s presiding preacher, invites him for an after-school “hangout,” which leads to a furtive make-out session in the town’s deserted mill.
Though the boys promise each other to keep it secret, they are both soon “outed” to their parents and subjected to a ritual performed by a mysterious “deliverance healer” (Nicholas Hope), intended to “protect” them from their “sinful” impulses. Soon after, a series of mysterious and violent encounters lead them to investigate local rumors around incidents involving other local teens – and the revelation that the ritual has summoned a malevolent entity, which appears to them as the person they are most attracted to (in this case, each other) and unleashes its murderous wrath when they give in to temptation. Their only chance of staying safe is to stay apart – unless they can find a way to defeat the supernatural force that has been turned loose against them.
Yes, it’s all very obvious. There is no attempt to mask what Chiarella’s movie is really about, though the word itself – like the biblical book with which it shares a title – is never spoken aloud in the film. It’s hardly a spoiler, though, to confirm that “Leviticus” is a story about homophobia. From its obvious evocation of real-life “conversion therapy” to its more subtle exploration of the secrecy and social shaming that surrounds same-sex love for so many teens growing up in an environment of fundamentalist religious tradition, every nuance of the film’s ingenious premise announces the clear intent of its messaging: homophobia is the true evil at work here, and its deadly power lies in its ability to make queer people afraid of being who they are.
While some might argue that presenting such an “on the nose” allegory in what is ostensibly “just” a horror film is a heavy-handed choice, we suggest – in this case, at least – that it’s exactly what makes the movie work so effectively.
From the very first scenes (after a prologue that ominously hints at the arcane evil that will soon come into play), we are invested in Naim and Ryan, whose tentative-but-joyous afternoon tryst is bound to trigger our own individual memories of adolescent sexual awakening, and whom we hope will be able to navigate their way through to the other side – even before the introduction of supernatural hate demons being summoned to kill them by using their own feelings for each other as a trap. They’re almost a definitive queer “coming of age” archetype, echoing generations of treasured “first time” memories and “what if“ fantasies about what might have been; we want them to be together, to overcome the otherworldly forces deployed to keep them apart – and when their romance is distorted, inverting their natural attraction to each other into fear and mistrust, it’s their own inability to abandon their feelings for each other that continues to put them in danger, making us pull to their side even more.
That emotional stake is the anchor of “Leviticus,” which lends an imperative to what might otherwise be a campy B-movie thriller and turns it into a genuinely engaging – and therefore terrifying – supernatural drama that is all the more powerful for playing to our hearts. Much of this effect hinges on the chemistry between its two young stars (which hits just the right pitch between irresistible hormonal urge and inseparable soul connection), but it’s also underscored by the irony of their being immersed within a culture that would rather destroy them than allow them to exist outside its traditional “norms.”
Nevertheless, while “Leviticus” succeeds by making us identify with its cult-crossed teenage lovers, it pays off by delivering not just a genuinely unsettling, profoundly disturbing, and unflinchingly brutal personification of religious bigotry at its most cruelly hateful, but by providing a tense and terrifying horror scenario that works on a pure “genre” level. Simply put, even setting aside any wider subtext about the deadly impact of homophobia, it’s a creepy, nerve-wracking ride.
A critical hit as part of the Sundance Festival’s “Midnight” section earlier this year, “Leviticus” went into theatrical release on June 19, the latest in a continuing trend of fresh and inventive films that has elevated the horror movie to new levels of critical appreciation. For us, it’s worth singling out as a boldly original expression of queer experience, elegantly constructed from the reinterpreted formulas of a genre that has always had particular draw for those in our community who knew how to read between the lines.
The difference is, this time we don’t have to – the message is spelled out loud and clear, and that in itself is enough to make it feel a little bit like empowerment, at a time when we could all use as much of it as we can get.
Friday, June 26
Trans Discussion Group will be at 7 p.m. on Zoom. This event is intended to provide an emotionally and physically safe space for trans people and those who may be questioning their gender identity/expression to join together in community and learn from one another. For more details, email [email protected].
DC Bird Alliance will host “Second Annual Ride for Pride” at 9 a.m. at the Yards Marina. This event is for celebrating community, belonging, and our shared connection to nature. Together, we’ll enjoy a guided one-hour boat ride departing from The Yards Marina, exploring the river’s wildlife, history, and ongoing restoration. Along the way, participants may spot Ospreys, herons, egrets, cormorants, Bald Eagles, turtles, and other species that call the Anacostia home. For more details, visit Eventbrite.
Saturday, June 27
Go Gay DC will host “LGBTQ+ Community Brunch” at 11 a.m. at Freddie’s Beach Bar & Restaurant. This fun weekly event brings the DMV area LGBTQ community, including allies, together for delicious food and conversation. Attendance is free and more details are available on Eventbrite.
“Sunshine: A Sapphic Pride Day Party” will be at 1 p.m. at Spark Social. This is a patio party for queer women & sapphics 35+. For more details, visit Eventbrite.
Sunday, June 28
Trap Laughsss Pride Comedy Night will be at 7 p.m. at Sid’s Gold Request Room. This in-person event is where comedy meets Pride, bringing you hilarious performances that’ll have you rolling in the aisles. Whether you’re here to celebrate or just enjoy some fantastic jokes, this night is all about fun, community, and laughs. Don’t miss out on the best comedy bash around! More details are on Eventbrite.
Monday, June 29
“Center Aging: Monday Coffee Klatch” will be at 10 a.m. on Zoom. This is a social hour for older LGBTQ+ adults. Guests are encouraged to bring a beverage of choice. For more information, contact Adam ([email protected]).
Tuesday, June 30
The DC Center for the LGBTQ+ Community will host a screening of “Swann Queen” at 7 p.m. This is a short film by Lcedeño Miller inspired by the true story of William Dorsey Swann – considered one of the world’s first drag queens. Billy Swann and their brother Dan are preparing to host their third masquerade ball. When the police raid the party, Billy must decide whether to run or resist. Swann Queen is a story about community, survival, and the legacy of LGBTQ+ resistance in Washington, D.C. Screening followed by conversation. For more details, visit the Center’s website.
Wednesday, July 1
Job Club will be at 6 p.m. on Zoom upon request. This is a weekly job support program to help job entrants and seekers, including the long-term unemployed, improve self-confidence, motivation, resilience and productivity for effective job searches and networking — allowing participants to move away from being merely “applicants” toward being “candidates.” For more information, email [email protected] or visit www.thedccenter.org/careers.
Thursday, July 2
The DC Center for the LGBTQ+ Community’s Fresh Produce Program will be held all day at the Center. People will be informed on Wednesday at 5 p.m. if they are picked to receive a produce box. No proof of residency or income is required. For more information, email [email protected] or call 202-682-2245.
Virtual Yoga Class will be at 7 p.m. on Zoom. This free weekly class is a combination of yoga, breath work and meditation that allows LGBTQ+ community members to continue their healing journey with somatic and mindfulness practices. For more details, visit the The DC Center for the LGBTQ+ Community’s website.
The Baltimore Orioles will take on the Washington Nationals on Friday, June 26 at 7 p.m. for Pride Night at Oriole Park.
The first 15,000 fans will receive an exclusive Pride Night Orioles jersey. The Washington Blade is a media sponsor of this event.
To purchase tickets, visit Orioles.com/Tickets.
