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Living

We Ate Here

If, like us, you’ve spent any years of your life in northern climes, you will appreciate this privilege of Virginia residence: eating lunch outside at Bizou in November. Not that it was warm (it wasn’t), but it was still eminently possible to enjoy an al fresco meal. What we ate—a hunk of pan-seared salmon over polenta and a vegetable ragout—was less important than the meal’s, shall we say, gestalt. We hunkered inside the fortresses of our coats, squinted at the pale gray light, and savored the way the spicy tomato ragout and full-flavored salmon became a kind of colorful defense against late-autumn chill. A heavy white mug of strong coffee didn’t hurt, either.

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