My husband's love letter to Astoria

As a formerly spice-shy diner, Dupont's Sichuan haunt has me converted.

In an old episode of Parts Unknown, Anthony Bourdain tortures Eric Ripert with the infamous Sichuan dish, mapo tofu. Bourdain, a self-proclaimed masochist, watches Ripert, with a palate better suited for butter and bread, sweat and squirm under the heat. Swap out the revered duo for me and my husband, and travel from China to the tiniest table for two in a basement in Washington, DC, and you have Astoria. This is my husband’s love letter to the restaurant. 

Astoria, tucked between local dives on 17th street in DuPont circle, brought a new level of Sichuan dining to DC. As is customary through the DC dining circles, we endlessly debate the best Chinese: Panda Gourmet in the old Days Inn, Q & Chang Chang, Blagden Alley's Tiger Fork. My goal is not to proclaim one over the other, but to marvel in the absolute perfection that is Astoria. 

Walking into Astoria at 5pm (after waiting outside to secure a table at 4:50; the only way you can guarantee a spot without a reservation or a waitlist), you are shuffled into what feels like a Gilded Age railcar, complete with brass finishes and velvet seats. It’s sexy, it’s dark, it’s a place to shove your face with delicacies without shame. The restaurant already feels crowded even as the first guests through the door. If you walk in at 5:05, you may be asked to stand along the thin bar between the high tops and the bar. Don’t hesitate; take the spot. Snack on their goldfish while you wait, but save a few to assist in cutting the spice once your food arrives.

Astoria is a practice in self assurance and confidence. Sitting at the high tops, the bartenders yell over fellow customers, 90s hip hop and cocktail shakers for your drink order, and request you do the same when you’re ready to order. You may think ‘surely not,’ but surely, yes. 

The bartenders are pure professionals, mixing the most elaborate and perfect tiki-style cocktails to pair alongside your spicy dishes. My husband always orders a bourbon smash (which he proclaims as the perfect cocktail), and I order a drink off-menu. This has been my go-to since Astoria opened in 2017, and though it tastes like a juice box, it will have you under the table after two. I won’t torture the bartenders further by sharing the name, but you can’t go wrong with any cocktail they offer. 

The drinks alone are worth traveling for, but you’re here for the food. We always share an order of mapo tofu; my husband spoons up the sauce like a soup and I let the tofu melt in my mouth. Each of us is left with a residual numbness from the Sichuan peppercorns and we chase it down with some fluffy white rice. The wontons are not for the faint of spice, but topping each chili-oiled parcel with a bunch of fresh, crisp cilantro creates the perfect bite. I’ve tried many times to recreate a version of the perfectly crispy yet delicately soft salt-and-pepper-eggplant, but alas, I will leave that to the professionals. We rotate through all of their other dishes, none of which would steer you wrong, with the Gong Bao chicken and Dan Dan noodles topping our contenders. If we're coming in past 10pm with several drinks already under our belts, we'll opt for a bowl of their aptly-named sober soup and a serving of Laz-i chicken that falls off of the bone.

At the end of the night, just when we are full enough to debate hailing a cab for the 10 minute walk home, the bartenders bring us a complimentary night cap (at 6:05pm) to help wash away the remaining heat from the food. It may have been months since we’ve last visited, yet they always remember us and welcome us like we had seen them yesterday. 

Astoria is a lesson on creating a perfect dining experience without pretension. It may be more difficult to get into than your average Chinese hole-in-the-wall, but the cocktails & food, music & service, vibe & decor, all make it worth it. Astoria, we love you, and we'll see you at 4:50pm some night soon.