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I won't lie, I looked
around to make sure there weren't a couple white guys in sunglasses
and trenchcoats sitting in an unmarked sedan with a telephoto lens
aimed at me as I walked in this joint. Granted, I know it's just a
restaurant, but with our civil-liberties-deficient regime in D.C.,
one can never be too careful. The little American flag by the door
hasn't really helped business all that much from what I could tell,
but it may be the weird interior keeping the crowds away. Walking
up to the second floor space is an odd experience, and the fact that
the place looks like the bottom floor of a private duplex (and not
a nice one at that) just screws with your sense of reality--not to
mention your appetite. To go is the way to go. The food itself is
actually rather tasty and not too expensive. It doesn't necessarily
do anything to differentiate itself from the several other Afghan
places in the neighborhood, but a nice chicken kebab makes for a decent,
relatively healthy meal when you're looking for a break from that
turkey sandwich or slice of pizza. I'll just have to trust that they
didn't open an F.B.I. file on me for eight dollars worth of rice,
chicken and yogurty sauce. [MF]
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