When the sustainable fish-loving Washington celebuchef Barton Seaver isn't busy "setting himself up as the Alice Waters of seafood," and shaming you away from both Texas and Outback Steakhouse ["It's morally reprehensible to eat 16 ounces of protein in one sitting."], he's apparently cooking up newer and even more innovative reasons for foodies to avoid his new restaurant, Blue Ridge. Like Stroller Happy Hour.
Blue Ridge is on Wisconsin Avenue in Glover Park, like just a neighborhood or two over from us in DC, and yet we never go. Least of all with the kids. While I want to like the concept of a nice restaurant welcoming families with little kids, frankly, the only way I could imagine putting up with all those strollers and kids in one quaint, confined outdoor seating area is to drink myself under the table. And I don't even drink.
So I'm not the right guy to ask about whether a family-targeted happy hour is a blessing or a curse, a VIP lounge or a ghetto, a get-out-of-pizza-joint-free card, or a two-hour detention. With cheaper booze. Thoughts?