LPQ Opening Soon in Dupont

Yes, it’s (99.999%) true, the Real World is coming to Dupont.  I think I’m in the minority when I say that I honestly don’t mind if they shoot in my neighborhood, a mere few blocks from my house.  I watched the show when it first came out and thought it was entertaining, and I’m curious to see how they portray DC and Dupont in particular.  Rest assured, we here at We Love DC will have plenty to say about it when it hits the airwaves.

But please, please, please, stay away from my beloved Le Pain Quotidien which, according to a sign out front this morning, looks to be opening Real Soon at 20th & P.  I want to eat my steel cut oatmeal with fresh berries in peace.  I don’t want a camera crew swarming around as I try to enjoy my organic parmesan and pesto omelette.  LPQ isn’t about drama, it’s about pretending you’re better than those who are eating factory farmed mystery meat at the Florida Avenue Grill.  Oh, and don’t mess with that place either, Real World Productions.  Just stick to Starbucks, the Russia House, and Timberlake’s and everything will be just fine.

Hailing from the Mile High City, Max has also lived in Tinsel Town, the Emerald City, as well as the City of Brotherly Love. Now a District resident, he likes to write about cool photos by local photographers, the DC restaurant and bar scene, or anything else that pops into his mind.

2 thoughts on “LPQ Opening Soon in Dupont

  1. Here here! But my fear is the Dupont Farmer’s market will overflow the place on Sunday. This might be a Saturday location.

  2. I’ve been enjoying the tartines at the LPQ in Clarendon for lunch with some friends during the week. Right up front, we had translated it as the Daily Pain (yes, we know it’s bread, but it’s funnier as pain), which meant that your waitress would probably be Sorrow. We imagined a transcript like this:

    Server: “Welcome to the Daily Pain. I’m your Goth server, Sorrow. Would you like to start your pointless meal with an appetizer?”

    Us: “Sure, we’d like your charcuterie plate, please?”

    Server: “I’m sorry, we don’t serve meat here. We only serve plain tofu, and rice-flour bread, so that you better understanding suffering. Alcohol is right out. I do have a glass of the tears of our alcoholic pastry chef, though, and I hear they give a little bit of a buzz. Especially when he’s on the outs with his daughter.”

    Us: “Le sigh. I’ll have the tofu. Is this part of the new cruelty?”