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The D.I.Y. ethic that ruled D.C.-area kitchens in 2011 had cooks doing all sorts of things in-house—from pickling their own vegetables to, in some cases, keeping bees for honey. And then there are the unfortunates who make their own ketchup. Is there anything more pointless and vain on the dining scene? The formula for great ketchup was perfected long ago. It’s called Heinz. As studies have shown, the stuff on grocery store shelves already hits every flavor profile on your palate. It cannot be topped. Yet chefs across the District continue to dish out ramekins of second-rate artisanal glop purely to show off the craftsmanship cred. What say they focus on making better fries to dip in the real stuff?