“A Table Down The Street” follows Howie Southworth, author of "A Taste of Alexandria," one local barstool at a time. No reviews. Only encounters. The bartender chasing perfection, the chef with a story, the regular who swears this place was better before you found it. Food and drink may be the excuse. People are the point. A corner seat can tell you everything.
Photo by Howie Southworth
Old House Cosmopolitan Grill in Old Town Alexandria
Sometimes the meal isn’t the main character. Sometimes the building is. This one knows it. The thought crosses my mind as I step through the door of Old House Cosmopolitan Grill on a quiet afternoon in Old Town. Apart from the skeleton crew, no one else is there.
The dining room sits patient in the way old houses do. Holding its silence, as if it is waiting to see who comes through the door next. Sunlight slips through the windows and lands on a set table beneath a painting of a narrow European street. White tablecloths rest ironed and ready.
Photo by Howie Southworth
The tap handles rise from the bar like Bavarian signposts.
Buildings here carry a certain gravity. This one holds the whole of the twentieth century in its beams. You feel it immediately, or perhaps it notices you first. The floors creak softly. The staircases lean the way staircases around here do. Rooms reveal themselves slowly, not like a restaurant but like a home that decides your next step.
Behind the bar stands Kristina, polishing glasses. She’s worked here since the restaurant opened, she tells me, and she carries herself with the calm confidence of someone who knows its rhythms. On quiet afternoons like this one she’s bartender, host, and caretaker of the house all at once, as if the place runs through her as much as the other way around.
“Lunch?” she asks. Lunch. But first, a beer. The tap handles rise from the bar like Bavarian signposts. Above the shelves hang blue-and-white flags that quietly announce the room’s Alpine loyalties. A pilsner travels two feet from draught to my hand. Tall. Golden. Cold. Exactly what a pilsner should be.
Photo by Howie Southworth
The Wurst Platter at Old House Cosmopolitan Grill in Alexandria.
I order the wurst platter on instinct. Friends and strangers have lauded the schnitzel here. “The size of your head,” more than one Alexandrian assures, unprompted. But this feels like a sausage afternoon. The kitchen leans Bavarian. Bratwurst. Debrecziner. Schnitzel. Pretzels. There is also ćevapčići with ajvar on the menu, which wanders a bit farther east.
Kristina smiles when I mention it. “A little too far to be really German,” she says. The owners come from that borderland between Central Europe and the Balkans, and the menu speaks the language. Cultures overlap there. Recipes travel. Sausages endure. Next time. My platter arrives leaning firmly toward Bayern.
Two sausages expertly crafted in-house. Deeply browned from the grill, they rest beside a warm pretzel and a ramekin of mustard and beer cheese. The bratwurst snaps properly when cut. The Debrecziner carries a gentle paprika warmth. Food like this does not try to surprise you. It simply wants to be with beer.
Photo by Howie Southworth
Steins line the windows overlooking Route 1 at the Old House Cosmopolitan Grill in Alexandria.
This small back bar, Kristina explains, fills with regulars on weekends and some weeknights. Neighbors drift in from the surrounding blocks. Conversations begin over a pint and eventually land on pork. A true local joint.
In the quiet of the room, I have time to notice everything. Steins line the windows overlooking Route 1. Strung bunting stretches above the bar. The afternoon light moves slowly across the walls in that particular way old buildings filter sunlight. Softly, as if the light itself has already passed through another century before reaching the room. It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t need to.
I naturally ask Kristina about the ghosts here and she naturally confirms they’re around. It’s less a warning than a reminder. In Old Town, it is a civic expectation. And honestly, it feels plausible.
Photo by Howie Southworth
Sunlight slips through the windows and lands on a set table beneath a painting of a narrow European street.
Unlike Gadsby's Tavern around the way, whose history has been carefully cataloged and ghosts often named, buildings like this one tend to keep their stories to themselves. Or at least reveal them slowly. Which leaves a lot to the imagination, and probably gets closer to the truth that way. You start to picture the conversations that must have unfolded here. More than a century of Alexandria life passing through the same doorway. Most of it unrecorded. But not unheard.
As the afternoon edges toward evening, the quiet begins to shift. The first dinner guest walks in. Then another. And then the slow trickle becomes something else. The door opens again and again. Voices fill the front dining room. Chairs slide back. Glasses fill. Orders are placed. the house wakes up all at once, as if it approves.
You can tell a lot about a restaurant by watching someone receive a dish they’ve been anticipating. In this case, it is the schnitzel. The first one materializes from the kitchen, carried carefully through the room by Kristina. Crisp. Golden. Unmistakably large.
The diner laughs when it lands in front of them. “Bigger than my head.” Exactly as promised. More plates follow. The room swells with conversation and the rhythm of good service. The old house comes alive voice by voice. But the bar remains its own small refuge. A place for a sip and a porky snap.
When this house first rose along Cameron Street, Alexandria was already well into its life as a port town. The ships were fewer than before, but the tempo of the place still carried them. And long before this structure stood here, the ground beneath it had already seen its share. Wooden houses. Small shops. Lives moving in and out without much to report. And likely a drink or two.
The respectable taverns were closer to the river, of course. But a few blocks inland, evenings had a way of stretching out. Conversations lingered. Stories grew larger with each telling. And if people have been gathering on this patch of ground long enough, you can imagine what might have been told. Storms at sea. Strange ports. Scurvy. Tonight the room is less salty. The crowd, more refined. A beer at the bar. A schnitzel causing a smile. Someone leaning close to tell a new tale.
In a house this old, even the ghosts lean in to eavesdrop. Don’t worry. They’ve heard worse.
Photo courtesy of Howie Southworth
Author Howie Southworth
Howie Southworth is a seasoned denizen of Old Town Alexandria and the best-selling author behind "A Taste of Alexandria: Modern Restaurant Recipes That Echo Our City's Past."
Southworth is the author of a new book, Hemingway’s Spanish Table (Insight Editions), set to be released March 17. Celebrate the publication of the book at this upcoming event at Casa Luna.
Past works include "Chinese Street Food," "One Pan to Rule Them All," "Kiss My Casserole!" and "How to Cook Anything in Your Dutch Oven." Howie is also a regular essayist for Salon.com.
