There are date spots, and there are date spots.
The former: maybe a quiet, secluded table next to a window. The latter: maybe something a bit more elevated. Literally. Like the only restaurant balcony in Georgetown.
Which brings us to Ristorante Piccolo, now reopened and renovated to let you and your date whisper sweet nothings in the open air this weekend.
Like every great Italian tale, this one contains a little tragedy—a fire that nearly destroyed the building two years ago. But like Berlusconi, they've returned, bringing back with them a cherrywood dining room, carved mantelpieces and glass fountains on the walls.
You'll enter the 250-year-old building and stroll past two fireplaces (ironically, the only pre-fire survivors), maybe even stop at the Italian stone bar for a house martini with limoncello and dried cranberries.
But your real business is up the custom-made iron staircase, at one of the three second-floor balcony tables (request one when you reserve). There, while lounging in the spring breeze, you'll settle in for plates of Portobello Mushrooms Stuffed with Crabmeat, Hand-Rolled Lobster Ravioli and the 48-Hour Marinated Veal Chop, while curious passersby and admirers assemble below, eager to hear a few words. Ignore them for the moment, focusing instead on the nearby canal and the quaint confines of the narrow street.
There will be time for speeches later.
The former: maybe a quiet, secluded table next to a window. The latter: maybe something a bit more elevated. Literally. Like the only restaurant balcony in Georgetown.
Which brings us to Ristorante Piccolo, now reopened and renovated to let you and your date whisper sweet nothings in the open air this weekend.
Like every great Italian tale, this one contains a little tragedy—a fire that nearly destroyed the building two years ago. But like Berlusconi, they've returned, bringing back with them a cherrywood dining room, carved mantelpieces and glass fountains on the walls.
You'll enter the 250-year-old building and stroll past two fireplaces (ironically, the only pre-fire survivors), maybe even stop at the Italian stone bar for a house martini with limoncello and dried cranberries.
But your real business is up the custom-made iron staircase, at one of the three second-floor balcony tables (request one when you reserve). There, while lounging in the spring breeze, you'll settle in for plates of Portobello Mushrooms Stuffed with Crabmeat, Hand-Rolled Lobster Ravioli and the 48-Hour Marinated Veal Chop, while curious passersby and admirers assemble below, eager to hear a few words. Ignore them for the moment, focusing instead on the nearby canal and the quaint confines of the narrow street.
There will be time for speeches later.
