Dear Washington, D.C.,

By the time you’ve read this I’ll already be gone.  This isn’t a break-up, it’s more of a break apart.  Maybe I got sick of being car-jacked at gun point or, perhaps, the constant sirens outside my window got to me.  Or maybe, perhaps, I yearned for something more within my very being.  Whatever the reason, I have moved.  And will not step foot on you again.  (Until I need to return to you for a wedding in January that is!)

Where have I moved?  What am I doing?  I’m writing to you from my screened in porch on my 12 acre farm and soon-to-be Bed and Breakfast in Ohio.  Where in Ohio?  I think it’s a little soon for that, don’t you D.C.?

And while I’ve given up on D.C., I haven’t given up on the food scene.  Eat and eat some more Washingtonians!!  Dino and The Source, Poste and 8407 Kitchen Bar…you are my go-tos, my loves.  And I will never forget you. And, in fact, I’m sure…I’ll be back!

In the spirit of my new found freedom, I’d like to do some new things tonight!  I’ve already touched a hedgehog.  Touch away, D.C., they don’t hurt after all!  And I’d like to make a deal with you.  While I may not be living in you anymore, I’d like to still keep writing to you.  Sure, I may not know the where all the hipsters are cavorting or where another “sanitary special” has opened up in recent weeks, but you can learn from my life in the country, and I’ll be sure to pass on my expert (or…at least…attempts) in cooking great breakfast foods for the masses.  We may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends!

I wish you the best of luck.  You are a great city, and I’m sure you’ll attract many more to your great food scene, gentrification issues, and many universities.  Please know, above all, I don’t hate you.  I think we’ve both just grown, and we’re moving in different directions.  You will always have power, and interns, and sleaze.  I will have alpaca, chickens, and hedgehogs.  Which is better?  Who am I to judge!

Know I will always love you, and that is all that matters.  And, be sure, you haven’t heard the last from me. Ohio may be a world away, but food is universal.

AEK