Capitol Dining in the 19th Century
Until the early 1920s, the Members’ Dining Room was run by restaurateurs appointed by the House. In the 19th century, the House favored a finer dining experience, choosing well-known proprietors of high-end establishments to take over the management of food service in the Capitol. Two of the most talked about were George Downing and Thomas Murrey.
George Downing: 1868-1876
About this object Identified as "Downing's Restaurant" in the 1869 guidebook Sights and Secrets of the National Capital, the Members' Dining Room was considered among the finest of Washington establishments in the post-Civil War years.
A second-generation member of the Northern black bourgeoisie, Downing was as famous for his life-long political activism as he was for his oysters. Downing crusaded for equal protection, school desegregation in Rhode Island, and equal access to rail travel. Newspapers referred to him as a “champion and defender for his race.”
Tom Murrey: 1892-1896
A popular and jovial man, Murrey organized fishing expeditions on the Potomac with Members. His nickname, “Terrapin Tom,” derived from one of his signature dishes made from the local turtle, terrapin stew, a mid-Atlantic specialty. Murrey’s corned beef hash with poached eggs was also widely praised: The Washington Post declared that it “was such a concoction that to eat one liberal dish created appetite for another.”
Reflective of the high profile of Congress during the Gilded Age, the Dining Room appeared frequently in the news. Murrey relished the attention, and undertook quirky endeavors aimed at the press that raised his own profile as much as promoted the fine dining experience at the Capitol. An 1895 Washington Post article, for example, reported on Murrey’s ill-fated attempt to concoct a palatable recipe for starfish. The starfish became his target because it preyed on one of Murrey’s favored ingredients, the oyster. After capturing several of these “five-fingered rascals of the sea” and “drawing forth his trusty stew pan,” Murrey concocted a broth. The broth, unfortunately, “all but killed him,” requiring a three week recovery. Murrey “abandoned his dream of a day . . . when the starfish would twinkle on every menu.”