Don't be tricked by the variety -- the (fresh-squeezed!) orange is the way to go, even if one of our glasses also carried a few unidentifiable little specks we'd generously term "earthy."
The "brunch special" is a bit of a scam designed to trick you into ordering a croissant, but the full menu's also on offer, and we heartily endorse getting a plate of aushak, excellent Afghan dumplings.
Mimosa deliveries are inconsistent, although we appreciate the opportunity for a last-call for drinks instead of a hard cutoff.
The dining room has a cozy, bright feel, which couldn't be more opposite from whatever's going on in the basement. Don't break the seal.
Penn Quarter, Chinatown
The bottomless deal's spruced up with bellinis and the always-dangerous rosé, and we'll never complain about the control over champagne levels that leaving mimosa construction to us provides.
Eastern Market, Capitol Hill
You probably don't usually have spaghetti carbonara for brunch, but you should make an exception here. If you're not feeling quite that frisky, the mainstays still acquit themselves well.
We're like the postmen. We brunch in rain, sleet, or snow
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