1811 Columbia Rd. N.W.
Contrary to popular opinion, it is socially acceptable to drink heavily during the day. Even in D.C., the realm of the politically correct, there is an exception to the “only drinking on weekend nights” rule – Sunday brunch. While some people attend religious services or prepare for the week ahead, I prefer to use my Sundays for catching up with my friends and relieving my hangover the best way I know how – Bloody Marys and over-consumption of food.
I’ve been to many brunches all over the city, but none quite like Perry’s Sunday drag queen brunch. Yes, drag queens, and might I say some very attractive ones, sashay from table to table flaunting their stuff to music reminiscent of “The Bird Cage” soundtrack. It is the first brunch I’ve been to where I spent more time standing up and dancing than shoveling food down my throat while listening to either how much guys suck or how “funny” I was when I blacked out last night. During the last of their 30-minute performances, they strutted down their makeshift runway in the center of the restaurant, stopping to titillate and/or irritate the most heterosexual-looking men in the room. There were shirts being stripped off, fellatio simulations and boob shimmies, way more action than I had gotten all weekend. Even some of the diners participated in the performance, giggling with mimosas in hand.
Perry’s is also known for its rooftop dining and Asian fusion cuisine served in a conservatively stylish atmosphere of green velvet couches and modern art. The drag queens and lively crowd were the perfect juxtapositions to keep brunch exciting but not tacky. In terms of food, the $25 buffet served up everything from traditional eggs and bacon to sushi and mini cr?me brulee. But since I arrived later in the afternoon – about 2 p.m. – several of the dishes were picked over or unappetizing. Now to the most important aspect of the brunch: the alcohol. Our table split a pitcher of Bloody Marys for $30. Even though the pitcher was quite large, the Bloody Marys were lacking kick in terms of alcohol content and flavor. They still served their purpose though, especially when split among only three of us.
Three drink refills and two buffet trips later, the restaurant had cleared out and no drag queens were in sight. While my hunger and hangover had subsided, the couch I was on was becoming too comfortable and I had hours of wallowing in front of the television to attend to. My advice: bring your hyper-masculine male friends or conservative parents here under the guise of a relaxing Sunday brunch, and let the fun begin.
Bar Belle Rating: 3/5