The road to Washington, Virginia, if coming from Washington, D.C., tumbles with the slow but pronounced pitch of a kid’s rollercoaster at a country fair. From the window, you see mechanic garages, fast food joints, and vape shops. It doesn't seem like you are about to arrive at one of America's most prestigious restaurants. Once you pull off the interstate, though, the vibe shifts to a quaint, magnetic charm. The Inn at Little Washington–one of only 14 American eateries with 3 MICHELIN stars, replete with a hotel component–sort of materializes from nowhere, with its traditional-meets-dramatic Americana aesthetic becoming immediately apparent (see, for example, hundreds of corn cobs nailed along a porch overhang). In my case, the theater was heightened: winter rains broke to reveal the misty Shenandoah Mountains in the background.
The Inn at Little Washington is the brainchild of Chef Patrick O’Connell, a man referred to by those in culinary circles (and some fringe pop culture vultures) as “The Pope of American Cuisine.” He enjoys showmanship, and has been quoted as saying food is the gateway to what makes something memorable. In this sense, then, it might be said that O'Connell was far ahead of the rest of us, considering how often the word "experiential" is heard in travel industry C-suites and PR meetings. His wish for engaging all of the senses, through a unique aristo-pastoral-mid-Atlantic way, has been the driving force behind the Inn since its launch in 1978. Food has just been the jewel in its crown.
“There are so few pockets of authentic escapes that you can still find,” says O’Connell from a glassed-in anteroom over a half-serving of a Hot Toddy, before I sit down for dinner. “America has many wonderful attributes, but sameness is creeping everywhere. What is so charming about travel is its unpredictable newness. Its sense of discovery.”
The Inn at Little Washington has long charmed patrons, politicians and passersby with exactly this sentiment. It's not just about inventive-yet-wholesome cuisine, but also moments where you think: wow, that's wonderful. Maybe it’s the butterfly-print wallpaper gracing the ceiling in the lofted “Alice Waters” room. Maybe it's the taxidermy albino peacock holding court in the conservatory, whose tentative name is Biscuit (“It’s a work in progress name,” says O’Connell with a laugh). Maybe it’s the fact that when overnight guests arrive, there is no paperwork–only a cocktail on hand, the recipe of which rotates daily.
The Inn does, however, have some technical news for 2023. “Slowly, over the last four decades, we’ve been acquiring contiguous properties and building a campus,” says O’Connell. “We’re uniting each of these formerly unrelated spaces through gardens and walkways and paths.” A holdout building, directly adjacent to the Inn proper, has just been purchased. Of this amassing, O’Connell cites a fine old hotel in Seville, Spain, as inspiration: “You walk in and you have the illusion of a village within a village.”
A wine cellar–with a 24-person table–will open between and underneath the Inn and this new acquisition. Several additional guestrooms are also in the pipeline. And, O’Connell and his team have recently opened Patty O’s Cafe & Bakery, which provides another outlet for guests, but also, O’Connell’s staff of hundreds. “It’s working wonderfully,” he says.
In addition to 3 MICHELIN Stars, The Inn at Little Washington also holds a Green Star. This highlights restaurants at the forefront of the industry when it comes to sustainable practices. I’m curious as to O’Connell’s personal relationship with the term.
“It’s part of the reality and pleasure of living in the country. A large portion of our menu can be prepared from our garden and from our neighbors’ gardens during high season. It’s almost like self-sufficiency is the more important term. It’s essential when you live out here, because you can’t depend on instantaneous delivery or fixes. Everybody has a garden, and you make do with it. In the winter, you go to the pantry, or the freezer. That’s what it means to me.” In essence, sustainability, as is now the buzzword, has always been part of O’Connell’s bucolic way of life. It’s part necessity, and part sheer pleasure in nurturing his Virginian soil to bear results that are transformed into some of the world’s finest dishes.
“It’s about bringing my earliest childhood dreams into reality. It’s not just in my imagination anymore. I have a large dollhouse now.”
This brings me to the food. And the reason I haven’t discussed it in more depth–until now–is to further emphasize that while it’s critical, it’s a spoke in the Inn’s carriage wheel. But, that said, it was–without exaggeration–the finest meal I’ve ever had at a restaurant.
The Inn traditionally offers two menus: The Gastronaut and The Good Earth (which is vegetarian). I opted for the Gastronaut, which, in mid-February, featured Savoy Cabbage wrapped delicately around Maine lobster with a spoonful of caviar; Hamachi Crudo over Golden Beet “pasta,” Juniper-Crusted Venison Tenderloin, and a “Pawpaw” dessert–the “pawpaw” is a somewhat rare fruit, which was favored by George Washington. Sat beneath the Inn’s eccentric hanging tassel lampshade centerpieces in its main dining room, the menu amplified and sublimated the escape O’Connell strives to deliver. It felt befitting of its star ranking–formal, attentive, perfect–yet a little bit like I was dining with a family in a well-appointed home, too.
I ask him what makes it work, deep down.
“My feeling is that people think they change a great deal in the course of their lives,” he says. “But I believe their personality is pretty much established by, say, age six. So what this is… it’s about bringing my earliest childhood dreams into reality. It’s not just in my imagination anymore. I have a large dollhouse now.”
Case in point: Yes, the Inn at Little Washington is a place for play and fantasy, but its core is rooted in an uncompromising personality. As alive as the twinkle in O’Connell’s eye, the experience is thoroughly human–and in a world of “sameness,” that’s something in and of itself to seek out.
Hero image: The Inn at Little Washington
All photos courtesy of The Inn at Little Washington
