some housemates came back with shiny eyes telling me about a place called alexandria: old town. water front, wunderschön raved the artsy liberal minded graphic designer german girl, which otherwise was little impressed with u.s. cities and their absence of art and culture (apart from chicago).
with fresh memories of the old streets and crowded rows of houses of annapolis in mind, i hoped for a similar european-feeling experience. european in the sense of narrow alleyways, brick to brick houses, cobble stone alleys, and tiny stores with high prices.
i wasn´t disappointed.
left and right of king street in alexandria, which lies just south of downtown dc, rows of cute houses with colorful doors, door knockers, gas lamps, and flower pots made me feel like walking in the nice parts of german weimar.
the narrowest alleyways widened my heart.
the cobble stone was really rugged in spots,
and even the parking lot had a historic overseer cottage.
tiny stores with specialty fare such as ethiopian jewelry, postcards of addis abeba, and other artifcats took turns with
restaurants for foodies of all gustoes: italian, french, spanish. chinese, japanese, and lebanese.
interestinlgy along king street, the main avenue through old town leading straight to the water front and conveniently reachable via metro, i found only two book stores: one mostly for second hand volumes (above) where i acquired three paperbacks for a dollar and
first hand pages, where not only "books a million" -- so the name of the store -- live but also the longest newsstand i´ve ever encountered. interestingly, all magazine, journals, and papers were in english. (i thought at the end of the row after specialty publications for hunting, gun collectors, crocheting, scrapbooking and the sorts i would bump into some el mundo or spiegel, pero nada).
cobblestone and cheap books, a dazzling choice of specialty magazines...what more could i ask for? but ahh, who would have thought, the best was yet to come: bakeries. the highest density of the rare store specism so far counted on u.s. ground. sure, they are mostly chain enterprises but seeing the word alone NOT falsely printed next to "kroger" or "walmart" or "giant" lettering was worth a jolt of heart.
there was the old acquaintance from cleveland with the yummy, chewy pumpernickel bagels -- apart from the annoying caraway seeds.
and new discoveries that always came with a café attached and were mostly advertised as french.
my all time favorite -- apart from home-made bread produced by my favorite american -- is "the daily bread" as the elegant and practical name of this store translates. it was the first time i got a taste of bread from a u.s. product that reminded me of plain dinner bread at home. bread has been a stable dinner "dish" for my family. when i asked what we would have in the evening, my parents would say jokingly: schnitte mit brot, a slice with bread, meaning just bread.
inside the store my eyes popped, my nostrils widened, my mouth watered at the sight of
french classics like croissants, even the chocolate-filled versions,
meringue, another all time favorite pastry of mine,
and these colorful collections, a favorite of my favorite american.
but i resisted the temptation of a quick sugar shot. i decided for the substantial rounds on the shelves. i just could not resist the other temptation to try a potential non-mushy, dark-flour, slightly sour-tasting bread with a hard crust, like in germany.
there was a "pain de siegle paysan" or farmer's bread with rye flour on the left and a sour dough boule with wheat flour on the right side. both were equally promising from the outside. the saleslady was kind enough to reassure me that the rye bread does not contain caraway seed after consulting a directory of ingredients.
so the rye it was. without regret.
a quarter of the loaf cost $3.23. it was completely worth it in my opinion when compared to the regular average of $4 for any old hydrogenated-oiled, high fructose corn syruped, natural and artificial flavored, enriched mass labeled "bread", which i can minimize to an inch of height by just pressing down my palm moderately on the package (my standard test to consider a loaf).
my peasant bread was hard as a rock on the outside and coated with a thin veil of flour but soft, moist, and melting on the tongue on the inside where the dough was interstratified with air bubbles from recent oven time. (the saleslady said it was baked the same morning in georgetown, another dc neighborhood).
these are moments when it's worth to have your pocket knife ready despite the risk to have to temporarily throw it into trash cans due to security madness. cutting a fresh slice, i enjoyed my rye bread with a breeze of wind on the last day of summer at the water front.
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