Stachowki’s is a brand. That’s a good thing, right? A brand is permanent. Seared into being for the life of the beast. I don’t like changes, particularly when evolution means the disappearance of something lovable. Countless beloved lunch counters, deli cases, mom and pops, corner stores, spots, joints, greasy spoons have disappeared before my eyes. The holes are all still there, the replacements vapid.
Stachowski’s market is not new by DC trend standards. It opened in the former Griffin Market – a very sweet market – in May or so. In DC new is only new tomorrow. By my standards, Stachowski’s is new. New to me is new until hell freezes over and my red parka with the embroidered flame detail has been worn threadbare.
Jamie Stachowski’s been cooking in DC for countless years, bless his loves-to-feed-people heart. Handmade, small batch salumi went away in America and now is back, thank goodness. And goodness it is. Bratwurst! Bangers! Kielbasa! May they never become extinct. Not in my lifetime, not in the lifetime of the universe.
Coppa, Mortadella, et al