This post is from DCist Contributor Joe Viola

Located in the heart of Adams Morgan is the Little Fountain Café. The menu is quaint but extremely sophisticated, the ambiance quiet but romantic, and the service is friendly but unobtrusive. There’s no elevator music while you eat. Bono, Coldplay, Billy Joel, and smooth jazz covers by Sarah Vaughan and Ella Fitzgerald enhance an already private affair. Walking downstairs into the Café you pass by the little fountain, the centerpiece of the restaurant’s most private table, outside, below the chaos of 18th St., Jumbo Slice, and the maddening vehicular escapades of taxis hitting passersby, underage drunkards lining the street for a table at Tryst or gathering together for one last charge to Ben’s Chili Bowl where, inevitably, they will vomit while in line.

I love Ben’s. And Jumbo Slice. And Tryst.

But if these places resemble the awkward-yet-self-assuring gropings of a new hookup, the Little Fountain Café resembles that of a sophisticated, older, wiser lover. We’re talking “Tell Me You Love Me” passion here. There’s artwork you want to make love to; there’s food you can savor. It’s a night out that offers glimpses into why you choose to stay monogamous.

Image of Little Fountain Cafe (and Angles) by furcafe and used with permission.