The Marco Polo is still an awesome dive bar, and still serves pressure-cooked fried chicken in an age when pressure cooking's given way to fancypants methods like sous vide. With Uncle Mo's now gone, it stands as one of Industrial Georgetown's last antidotes to hipster encroachment; there's simply no irony that can be drawn from the presence of a real, live stock car inside your establishment (next to the pool tables).
Lil' Scoop Like hide and seek with a fancy name, only for adults and with a stock car inside.
Last night, we realized, to our horror, that the Marco Polo no longer serves pepperoni grinders-- or any grinders at all, for that matter. Simply having the word "grinder" on your menu makes you muy macho; hence, the absence of these grinders--which were absolutely delicious, to boot--makes Marco Polo less of a man.
Turns out, the grinders, which vanished from the Marco Polo's menu some six months ago, simply didn't sell as well as the burgers and "broasted" chicken. The decision to kick the grinders to the curb, says one employee, came in order to keep the prices of the more popular items static amidst rising costs for ingredients.So the grinders took one for the team. That's business, and it's an understandable decision. Yet sans grinders, the Marco Polo leaves itself slightly more vulnerable to defeat in an arm-wrestling match.
While we're on the topic of etching sandwich gravestones, the death of the Marco Polo's pepperoni grinder is really only rivaled by the disappearance of the Virginia Inn's muffuletta. You'd have thought, in light of its expansion, that the jewel of First Avenue would have done the same with its menu, especially since the roomier digs allow for a real kitchen instead of just a nook. But sometimes it's best not to think.