Immigrant Confidence

I walk around DC a ton; partially to get places; partially to explore; partially to get out and get my steps in. So there are spots I walk by all the time without even noticing that I’ve been keeping an eye on and tracking them over time.

Places like the one in the pic here, Johnny’s in Columbia Heights. There are tons of restaurants like it across DC: Shabby-looking carryout joints that seemingly serve everything: Pizza. Kebabs. Sandwiches. Wings. Pasta. Burgers. Fried Chicken. Salads. Desserts.

In Johnny’s case, the magic combo is Chinese food, Subs, Seafood, Chicken, a big neon bowl seeming to offer pho or soup or something, and then the thing that’s always gotten my attention: poorly-applied letter stickers proclaiming “World’s Best Cheesesteaks”. I’ve never taken their claim seriously, but they actually might, as that same sticker setup is also on their other big window around the corner.

You need to be confident to run one of these places, and even more confident to offer the pan-Earth menu that they do. I’ve never eaten at Johnny’s, but I’d bet 100 shillings it’s an immigrant who owns it, and is the one working the grill until deep into the night. These places will never get a Michelin star, nor a Washington Post review. But the people running them don’t care about that stuff — they’re too busy working their butts off feeding their community and building their American dream.

The deeper I get into researching Drink•Eat•Walk, and finding stories to tell in it, the more I’m seeing that it was immigrants from across this country, and the world, that built DC into the delicious, thriving, vibrant city it is today. It’s been such a revelation to learn the history of the streets I endlessly walk, and of the neighborhoods and communities built on top of them.

I’ve never really considered eating at Johnny’s, but WTF do I know — it has 4.3 stars on Google, and it’s been there for as long as I’ve been taking my walks. And it’ll probably still be there, slinging the world’s cuisines, long after my tiny effort at building something has been 86ed.