MAGA tourism in the heart of DC
On Friday night I arranged for a group to meet at Butterworth’s for a small dinner. I joke that I’ve become the Butterworth’s Whisperer, chaperoning curious and skittish liberal friends to DC’s Trump-era living museum for lamb tartare, cozy lighting and dissident ambiance. I needn’t waste too much time describing the scene. The restaurant has been profiled more often than the new Pope. Suffice it to say the fries are sliver-thin and seed-oil-free, the martinis flow like water and there are always at least a couple of Republican who’s-whos to point at in the dining room. Nothing to be afraid of. Some nights there’s even a party if you show up at the right time, as I did a couple of months ago during the Conservateur’s “Make America Hot Again” event.