Where to Eat Like a President: 5 Historic Restaurants in DC

Old Ebbitt Grill is Washington’s oldest saloon, founded in 1856—though it’s changed locations several times since. Now operated by the group behind Clyde’s in Georgetown, it serves stalwart American classics like New England clam chowder, Oysters Rockefeller, crab cakes, and pork chops. I spent last Thanksgiving here, elbow to elbow with federal contractors at the bar, far from home. (The roast turkey, stuffing, yams, and pie were all far better than expected, plated up generously for a gut-busting solo feast.)

Want the old-school vibe of Old Ebbitt Grill but craving sushi instead of crab cakes? Head to The Hamilton. Both spots appear in chef Ryan Ratino’s guide to late-night eats in DC (and yes, those are few and far between here), but for very different reasons. You can perch at The Hamilton’s sushi bar—yes, it’s slightly surreal to find one nestled inside a stately dining room that also serves steak frites and American cheese boards—or take a seat at the sweeping mahogany bar, which is my personal preference.

José Andrés dominates DC with a mini-empire of restaurants—from Jaleo and minibar to Zaytinya—but The Bazaar might be the most theatrical. Yes, the brand now has multiple outposts (including Las Vegas and Miami), but DC’s location is special. Housed inside the Waldorf Astoria—formerly the Trump Hotel, and before that, the Old Post Office—the space offers soaring ceilings and a lobby that stuns. There’s even a historic clock tower above, a reminder of the building’s storied past. The menu is playful modernism at its best: caviar cones and Philly “cheesesteaks” made of airy bread puffs filled with cheddar espuma and topped with wagyu carpaccio. It’s Andrés doing what he does best—defying expectations in a space thick with history.

Originally opened in 1906 and freshly revamped in 2025 by serial restaurateur Stephen Starr, The Occidental is where statesmen—and their entourages—have dined for over a century. Today, it still plays host to senators in suits (sometimes audibly debating over their steaks) and serves up unapologetically old-school fare: pheasant under glass, oysters with beurre blanc, and the delightfully retro Herring Under a Fur Coat. There’s a wedge salad, naturally, and an extensive steakhouse menu. The glamour lies in the details—dusty gold velvet banquettes, bananas Foster flambéed tableside, and martinis shaken by waistcoated bartenders. The most popular? The Occidental Martini: Belvedere vodka, Cocchi Torino Extra Dry, manzanilla olive brine, and Maldon sea salt. The restaurant winds through dark, interconnected rooms, infused with soft jazz and illuminated by globe lamps.

Step into the Riggs Hotel and you might think you’ve wandered into a temple of finance—and you wouldn’t be wrong. Built in 1891, the former Riggs National Bank was known as the “Bank of Presidents,” having served 23 of them, from Abraham Lincoln to Richard Nixon. Today, its grand Corinthian columns and soaring ceilings set the stage for Café Riggs, where you can lunch on French dip with rich jus or scoop cucumber and trout roe dip with delightfully sturdy chips (no limp chip trauma here). The menu leans classic, but the setting is anything but expected: repurposed vault doors, original safes, and bankers’ lamps bring cheeky reverence to the building’s past.

After hours, descend into the moody, brass-accented depths of the hotel to Silver Lyan, the cocktail bar tucked into one of the old bank vaults. Here, mixology meets maximalism, with a playful, luxurious menu—and arguably the city’s cleverest tater tots, shaped like gold coins, naturally.