72 Hours in DC
The power of a girls' weekend cannot be overstated
Everyone agrees: The healing power of a girls’ weekend cannot be overstated. Preferably, your time is split between eating, drinking, and discussing such a wide array of topics so as to give your Uber driver whiplash; we threw a little history of George Washington in there too. It was DC after all.
Some of my best St Andrews pals got together in DC this past month, where our girl Caroline was kind enough to host us at her truly lovely apartment, where the trees were just leafing out directly in the center of her living room windows. It reminded me so much of my super old St A apartment with the reliable oak outside our kitchen window, which I think about like every other day, but that’s neither here nor there.
The weekend was filled with all the hallmarks of a soul-fueling trip. This includes but is not limited to ice cream, marg pitchers, live music, discussions about modern art, discussions about classical art, stationary stores, bad (but kinda good?) karaoke, chicken fried rice, neighborhood walks, and Elizabeth’s belief that everyone should have a “hill” (that they’d die on) and the argument to back it up.
Let’s zoom in on the aforementioned marg pitchers for a minute. Our lives were possibly altered by the salt air margarita at Oyamel, one of José Andrés’s restaurants, where instead of a salt rim, it’s a salt foam that you sip along with the drink. One of the more unique drinks I’ve had in a minute.
As a general DC food sidebar, I neglected to note last month that I wrote up the April/May DC Agenda blurb and got to talk to several exemplary chefs and restaurateurs at Mélange, Ox & Olive, and Rye Bunny, the latter a call with the dream team that is Jill Tyler and John Sybert. If you are in DC, get thee hence; I could have talked to them forever about dining room design, sourcing DMV ingredients, and the value of a good landlord.
Caroline, Tess, Elizabeth, and I joked it was the weekend of aspirations; we penciled, then outlined in light pen, dream careers and ideal paths while sitting on barstools and walking the National Mall as the sun dipped. We took our time in museum exhibits and held spirited debates and mused over art and each imparted our various niches of knowledge to spread the wealth. I’m very lucky that these are some of my cleverest, most eternally curious friends. A bunch of nerds we are, but it’s pretty much the best.
To balance it out, weddings, relationships, and topics of utter fluff were discussed in the Folger Shakespeare Library’s cafe and over coffee from the Spanish coffee counter under Caroline’s apartment and on a long walk through charming Old Town Alexandria. Mostly, we (me) pondered how much nicer and cost-effective it would be to live in DC, if only the government weren’t imminently caving in on itself.
The girls’ weekend is a sacred, time-honored tradition that should be practiced every other month, but we’ll take what we can get. I, for one, will be looking at DC digs out of the corner of my eye, while also looking ahead to the next time I can circle up with these lovely ladies—preferably over a salt air margarita. Oyamel just opened a new location in Hudson Yards. . . .
Short one this month, and mostly wanted to bask in the residual girlhood joy from our 72 hours in the capital, but couldn’t round this one out without mentioning this truly beautiful essay by Hanif Abdurraqib in The New Yorker.
It’s about love and nostalgia and longing, but it’s also about how, in our age of convenience, people inherently continue to pine for conscious effort. The extra time, the hassle, the untangling of many cords, even, garner their own sort of appreciation. People want to make grocery store runs just so they have a .999% chance of brushing elbows with their future partner in the produce section! Effort has always been cool, and Abdurraqib always reminds me that we haven’t lost all hope for the practice, yet.
My current and most exciting read has to be Emily St. John Mandel’s Exit Party—my lovely and very kind editor hooked me up with a copy, so, my spring was made! I’m not finished with this one yet, but already it feels reminiscent of Mandel’s early work, which may be a partial credit to the fact that Exit Party’s protagonist is a character from The Singer’s Gun (if you only pick one book from ESJM’s backlist, it’s a great one). The noir influence is a hallmark of her early style, so I feel like she’s kind of dancing back into that territory here.
I picked up The Optimists by Brian Platzer and found it to be such a fresh point of view shift; it’s narrated by a charming, endearing high school English teacher at a private New York school, who chronicles the life of his star student from this somewhat mysterious, wicked smart young girl to a more nefariously mysterious, extremist young woman. I think this is something of a hidden gem in terms of recent release—I’ve not read anything quite like it before, story-wise.
Sure, it has its flaws, but I suspect the not-so-subtle self-importance of Mr. Keating is often intentional, and highlights the kind of misplaced father-figure dynamic and even jealously that Clara brings out in him. I read an interview with Platzer in the Chicago Review of Books that I think acknowledges this quite nicely:
“. . . I hoped to avoid sentimentality by making sure Mr. Keating acknowledged his own self-indulgence. Also, I wanted to make sure that the book did not know more about its characters than the characters knew, themselves. These are smart people who understand the luck they’ve had in their successes and the pain they’ve experienced in their suffering. Mr. Keating is aware that he can be performative. He apologizes for his performances as he performs. He is both confident and insecure. I hope the reader never feels manipulated.”
Evil Genius by Claire Oshetsky was a sly, slim read that is very much a “good for her!” book. It’s set in 1970s San Fransisco, feels steeped in cigarette smoke, and is constantly flirting with potential major conflict. You think, “Surely this will be her tipping point, bring out the blade and husband be gone!!” and then it just keeps building. A pretty fun satire that the weird girls will love.
I might be the last person on earth to read Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar; I was tired of seeing it on every list imaginable back in 2024, and I don’t know you guys, I have mixed feelings. The prose was standout; objectively, though, this book was doing too much. Between the multiple POVs, dream chapters, poetry (Akbar is a poet by trade; this is his debut novel) and the ending, it felt like it was saying a lot but not really moving toward any truly meaningful plot. I found the approach to the concept of martyrdom fascinating, and the varying examinations of art and heritage, too; ultimately, it just didn’t super work for me.
In 2023, Belle Burden published an essay about her divorce in Modern Love, and her harrowing memoir, Strangers, is the long-form version that hasn’t left the NYT Bestsellers list since it came out. If you’re keeping tabs on New York City socialites, you may know that Burden’s grandmother was Babe Paley, fashion icon and, famously, one of Truman Capote’s “swans.” You could go down the familial rabbit hole, but Burden isn’t exactly some random lady who had a particularly nasty divorce.
Obviously that doesn’t negate the horrific emotional trauma she writes about; actually, I think the strongest element of this book was Burden’s attention to her own shortcomings. Her recognition of her financial mistakes—she admits to being completely hands-off with her finances, leaving it entirely to her husband—and even her outlining the publication process with Modern Love’s editor felt fair and transparent to me, and like a lesson many could probably stand to learn.
A sucker for dollar oysters in any format, I’ll often pick up a dozen at Whole Foods during their 12 for $12 Friday specials and shuck them myself. The ramps are dwindling, so a fun nod was using ramp butter on grilled oysters, topped with a quick mix of panko, herbs from the fridge, parm, and paprika.
I can triumph over my dislike of non-scrambled eggs for about three weeks out of the year, usually around Easter, and this time around very much enjoyed Sunday breakky with the fam, which was mouillettes and eggs. The most consistent jammy eggs recipe is this one, and they also work on toast with whipped ricotta spread, a chile crisp, ripped mint, and leftover salmon roe from Easter lunch.
Labor of love this month: these rhubarb compote craquelin pastries, which turned out lovely. I was inspired by this newsletter from Kitchen Projects, but used a hodgepodge of recipes to bring it together—pâte au choux and craquelin from King Arthur, pastry cream and swiss meringue from Martha, and rhubarb compote from Erin French. This is my attempt to cure my Welton’s Bakeshop FOMO!


Also really enjoyed these steak kebabs with a serrano salsa, though I wildly underestimated the power of my serrano chiles. I recently read this kind of funny, mostly fascinating article in Texas Monthly that was urging Texans to make the switch to serranos as their “everyday chile,” because apparently, jalapeños have been scientifically altered “to the point of soullessness”—meaning their SHU has been dulled to make them more widely edible for those with no tolerance—and serranos are the most logical successor. A little ag intrigue for your morning!
May has inspired a return to Incubus’s Morning View, especially “Are You In?” and “Wish You Were Here.” The latter has what may be my favorite subtle guitar riffs of all time; it’s intoxicating. This live version is one of those rare instances where it sounds exactly, maybe even better, than the studio version, and I revisit it all the time. No surprise, then, that Stone Temple Pilots and Gin Blossoms have also been given their fair share of listening time.
When in DC, we spent part of our Saturday night dancing our hearts out at the 9:30 Club, where Caroline’s friend’s band, Kid’s Table, was opening for another band. You guys, they rocked. An indie-pop lover’s dream. We’re all obsessed. Give them a listen!
What I’ll be listening to in May: Bruce Hornsby, various Coachella sets as they’re being uploaded, Fleetwood Mac’s Mystery to Me, and Big Little Lies.






Laila Gohar’s fruit + veg carousel for Milan Design Week. Milan Design Week seems to have really kicked it into gear this year, starting with T Magazine’s annual Salone de Mobile party, designed by Marie-Anne Oudejans. Laila Gohar, food stylist extraordinaire, crafted the menu for T, but she also partnered with Arket for a carousel of larger-than-life fruits and vegetables. Delightful doesn’t begin to cover it; never have I ever turned down a radish motif and I’m certainly not starting now.
Jordan Bickham’s styling for British Vogue’s April cover story. I don’t know much about Olivia Rodrigo, but I do know that I love her cover story shoot for the April issue of British Vogue. Jordan Bickham kills the styling while Laura Jane Coulson continues to make magic behind the lens; she’s shot for a lot of surf and aquatic-inspired editorials, and this shoot feels sooo very spring-into-summer, from the color grading to the emphasis on a statement jacket.
Ice cream spades. One of those kitchen items you don’t really need but are a fantastic addition to your silverware drawer nonetheless. These ice cream spoons are shaped like spades, with straighter edges to better hug the sides of a pint container (it tastes better straight out of the pint, be honest with yourself). That I use these often is a testament to just how much frozen dessert I consume, which doesn’t benefit me to dwell on. My health says how about no, but my heart says oh yes. Guess who’s winning that one?
Thanks for reading this month, all, and apologies for the late mail; I’ve been so bad about that recently!! Work has me in the absolute trenches, and I’m blaming everything on that at present. I do think May is one of the busiest months of the entire year, so I’m wishing you and your Gcal strength and perseverance, but it’s almost peony season (hooray!), NYC is looking green, and we’re nosing into just-a-tee weather. I cannot wait to sit on a street corner with a glass of wine and Emma, who’s coming stateside to visit this month, and feel well and truly psyched for the summer season. Cheers until then!
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Just want to say hi? My email is gracecroberts@gmail.com.
See you next month!
Sincerely yours,
Grace












Several things.... I'm so glad you have such smart and interesting friends, effort is almost always worth it, it seems sad that so much is done in the name of convenience now and finally, those pastries were some of the best I've ever had!