Will that trend continue? And can the federal government do anything to help?

LSU Finance Professor Joseph Mason discussed the issue on Capital Insider.

There are signs of hope on the horizon. The housing market seems to be rebounding and the average income for real estate agents also rose last year. The 2.3-percent increase was the first gain in nine years.

NAR Chief Economist Lawrence Yoon offered a detailed look at the real estate industry on Capital Insider.

For the latest on that and other big business blunders, Capital Insider spoke with Washington Post Financial Reporter Ylan Mui.

Here's Fmr. DOT Official Brigham McCown on domestic energy issues:

Here's Rep. Mike Pompeo (R-Kansas) on the Hawker Beechcraft:

D.C. is heavily represented on the extensive list of pre-nominees. The official (smaller) list of finalists will be announced on March 19.

But who in D.C. actually wins these things? And how have they done since?

• In 2008, Michel Richard won the Best New Restaurant award for Central. (This year, Little Serow and Fiola are semifinalists in the category.)

Central still ranks in Washingtonian's survey of the top 100 restaurants in the city and received 2.5 stars from Post critic Tim Carman about a year ago.

Richard's Tyson's Corner restaurant, Michel, closed suddenly last Saturday, but he's opening three restaurants at the Revel resort in Atlantic City, which should cushion the blow.

Verdict: He's getting by.

• CityZen chef Eric Ziebold took home the award for Best Chef, Mid-Atlantic in 2008. That's the same year he won Chef of the Year at the RAMMYs.

Ziebold hasn't launched anything new since September 2009, when he opened Sou'Wester, CityZen's sister restaurant, which is also in the Mandarin Oriental.

But why should he have to? CityZen maintains a four-star rating from the Post and a position on Tom Sietsema's most recent fall dining guide. It also received a semifinalist nod this year in the Outstanding Wine Service category.

Verdict: He's coasting on years-old success, which is an admirably chill way to do things.

• José Andrés won the Outstanding Chef Award last year for minibar by josé andrés, where it remains incredibly difficult to get a reservation.

The chef has recently turned to political commentary and is launching a new food truck, Pepe, in the coming weeks. The Chinatown branch of his tapas restaurant, Jaleo, will close Sunday for about a month for renovations.

Verdict: He's running with his success in a delightful way.

Other local nods:

Joe Yonan, editor of the Post's food section, has received two James Beard awards, both since 2008, for newspaper coverage. The Kojo Nnamdi Show on WAMU won one for its 2009 food programming.

Last year, former City Paper critic Tim Carman took home an award for his food-related columns and commentary.

While it was slightly irritating to read the same news about the James Beard Awards from nearly every source of food news on Tuesday, I won't dismiss their importance.

But in this week's wonderful City Paper profile of the ubiquitous celebrity chef Mike Isabella, owner of Graffiato and the soon-to-open Bandolero, Isabella said:

“Even though, to us, it’s the biggest accolade you can get, other people are like ‘What’s a James Beard?’ I mean, that’s not going make [investors] give me money.”

With Tuesday's coverage as evidence, I don't know how any potential backer of a new restaurant wouldn't know what a James Beard Award is.

After the jump: News unrelated to awards of any kind!

DIGEST THIS NEWS:

• Il Canale (favorite local pizza place of Italians!) gets official Neapolitan certification.

• The comment period for the city's proposed vending regulations, which affect food trucks, has been extended to March 1.

• The Daily Meal ranked the 101 best restaurants in America. Ben's Chili Bowl and Palena made the cut, along with minibar and Citronelle.

• Chris Shott has the scoop on Spike Mendelsohn's in-the-works steak frites place.

• The death of Thang Le, the Toki Underground chef who passed away last week, has been ruled a suicide.

I’m not the only one getting thrashed; when the other tennis-mom types at the gleaming Bethesda Equinox gym begin to flag in our kickboxing class, cheating on their kicks and flailing instead of jabbing, Sandman, who in her pert ponytail looks like the flyer on a high school cheer squad, hooks at full capacity. She uppercuts with purpose. Her sidekicks fly six inches higher than mine.

When Sandman and Barbara Martin, the women behind D.C.’s powerful PR firm BrandLinkDC, agreed to let me trail them for a day, I wasn’t expecting a morning cardio session spent trying to keep up with a woman who gave birth 10 months ago. When the class mercifully ends, I stumble after Sandman’s red, bobbing ponytail down to the locker room, where she slips into a blue second-skin of a dress and thigh-high black stiletto boots (to cover the “giant shiner” on her shin, she explains). It’s not yet 10 a.m.

Martin, Sandman’s business partner and friend of a decade, appears in the locker room in a brown shift and cardigan, sucking down coffee (“We don’t let Barb drink Red Bull,” Sandman says) and apologizing for her footwear (“Flats for the day, heels at night,” she explains).

She whisks us out of Equinox and into a waiting Mercedes. I stash my bag in the vacant Chicco car seat of Sandman’s son, Owen, and we take off down Wisconsin.

Martin and Sandman keep up a steady stream of shoptalk and girl talk while Martin checks email and Sandman applies concealer in the rear-view mirror. It’s going to be a busy day, with house calls to several clients and massive preparation for a book party for Simon Doonan at the W Hotel tonight.

“Two questions,” says Martin. “Well, maybe one question because I already forgot the first one.” She interrupts herself to point out a black dress in the window of a Friendship Heights store. “That dress would look great on you.”

“The Lanvin? Yeah, I’ll just visualize a waist.”

We cruise downtown to a parking garage next to One80 Salon, ignoring the sign indicating that the garage is full. “We’ll beg,” says Martin.

“Hi!” Sandman says sweetly to the attendant. “We just need one hour.” It works, and we’re out of the car and into the brushed-silver and orange-accented salon for their blowouts. Martin and Sandman disappear to the shampoo station.

The receptionist warmly greets Martin, who’s been handling PR for the salon for years. “I’ve only been here two months,” she says. “You learn about Barb very quickly.”

Under the blow dryer, Martin and Sandman type on laptops, the Skittles-sized diamonds on their ring fingers sparkling, while stylists work their hair. Sandman shows off some photos of Owen, and then they get to work.

“I’ll email him right now,” Martin says into her phone as her stylist manipulates her dark locks, plentiful enough for three heads, into a shiny curtain. “Awesome. Yay!”

Next to her Sandman talks through earbuds. “Music non-profits,” she says. “Think of dance.” She covers her eyes with her hands as her stylist spritzes her Little Mermaid-esque waves.

One of the stylists has a friend who’s trying to make something happen with a club, and she asks if the women ever work with club branding.

“No,” says Martin.

Minutes later, we’re back in the Mercedes and headed to the W Hotel. Sandman apologizes for any of Owen’s Cheerios that might be hiding in the backseat.

We valet the car and head up to tonight’s party room, the Altitude Ballroom, a giant mess of flowers, stems, frames, and equipment. Fresh-faced interns crawl on the floor, beheading carnations and pinning the blooms to tinsel-covered panels that will serve as the party’s décor. Martin wastes no time getting on the floor with the interns and decapitating flowers. Sandman does not. “She possesses a knack for crafts that I do not have,” she says.

—

It’s noon and six hours until party time. Sandman goes over details with Annie Perezchica, BrandLinkDC’s events director, for an hour while the bits and pieces scattered all over the ballroom turn into two bars, drink stations, and tables. Martin rushes over with palms up, bearing the wounds of her flower-ripping.

“Look at me,” she says. “Bleeding, bleeding bleeding.”

There’s no time for blood. It’s time, in fact, for a few house calls. “I need caffeine,” Sandman declares.

“Don’t give Barbara Red Bull, whatever you do,” Perezchica reminds her. We head to the Uber car waiting outside the hotel. (On the way out, Martin points out the stone statues in the lobby, saying she once ran right into one.)

First stop is Tiny Jewel Box on Connecticut, where the women need to pick out pieces for an upcoming issue of Capitol File. “We’ll want to push watches, of course,” says Martin, who snaps photos of jewels and Rolexes with her phone while Sandman chats up the staff, “because it’s the power issue.”

Ten minutes later, we’re back in the car and headed to Dupont. Sandman thumbs her phone while Martin takes a call. When it ends, she remarks on the futility of people bragging that they’ve been featured on a cable channel.

“It’s like, which one are you?” she says.

“Which one is she?” Sandman asks.

“They’re like, we’ve been on Oprah.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

They shake their heads.

After a quick caffeine stop at Starbucks, we go next door to Alton Lane, custom men’s clothier and another BrandLinkDC client. Michael Clements, executive editor of Washington Life, joins, along with Alton Lane proprietors Colin Hunter and Peyton Jenkins. Martin’s arranged a meeting between the Alton Lane guys and a friend from Flying Dog. Everyone gabs under the antler chandeliers that accent the manly Southern prep décor of the store.

Sandman never stops selling the client. “Aren’t they great?” she says to me. “Our jobs are so much easier because we have the best clients.” She, improbably, turns a conversation about the blood diamond trade in South Africa back to Alton Lane’s customized clothing. (“And that’s why custom is so great!”)

We exit, hail a cab on the circle, and the women dive into their inboxes. Sandman has just received the “most suck-up email ever,” and Martin’s got another message about a Valentine’s Day party for her oldest son’s class.

The other parents are volunteering to make homemade cookies. “I’ll maybe show up late and you’ll all hate me,” she says to the parents on the other end of her inbox.

It’s 3 p.m., and no one’s had lunch. Sandman wants a tuna burger (“I am a giant stick of mercury”). Martin wants a “burger burger” but says her dress doesn’t allow it. There’s no time for burgers of any kind, so it’s back to the ballroom for more plotting.

A dozen event staffers crisscross the room with more frames, more tables, and more supplies as the women settle back at their laptops. The interns have finished pinning hundreds of carnation heads to panels, and they look sadly on their ragged hands.

“My nails aren’t good enough for Simon,” one laments. Sandman hisses to Martin that they should treat all the interns to manicures later. Martin’s face lights.

Simon Doonan wanders into the melee, wearing a floral shirt and leather sneakers and looking like a refined Gary Oldman. Martin leaps up to embrace him. “You’re so much taller in real life!” she says. Doonan is 5’4”.

Doonan looks around in wonder at the room. “You’ve done an excellent job,” he says in his slow British lilt. “You’ve really…penetrated Washington.” Everyone giggles.

Doonan wanders out of the room and Martin and Sandman get to work on guest lists, which tend to bring a little drama. (“Put up a velvet rope and people lose their minds,” says Martin.)

In a rapid back-and-forth of sentence fragments, they talk, type, and munch on BLTs that the kitchen sent up.

“Where are we on Keach?”

“Keach or Gavin. I’m fine with both.”

“And Christina Wilkie.”

“I just followed up with her.”

“And what’s her face. Right.”

“The bookseller’s valeting.”

“Did someone bring a Sharpie?”

Sandman takes a minute to FaceTime with her husband and baby on her phone. “Hi Owen!” she coos. “Hey Owen, clap for Mommy? Want to clap?” She claps. “Now he’s eating the phone,” she says with delight, to no one in particular. “All I can see is Owen’s mouth on the camera.”

—

Party time is less than an hour away, and minor crises strike. The floral arrangement for Simon’s book-signing table has too many yellow and orange flowers and not enough pink. A fishbowl is for some reason needed. The floor needs to be vacuumed. One of the interns’ dresses has gone missing. Purses are poking out from underneath the table where they’ve been stashed, a sloppy sight that one intern describes as “poopy.”

Simon wanders back through the sea of buzzing last-minute prep, oblivious to the hustle. “This is incredible,” he says again. “It’s my bar mitzvah!”

Five minutes until party time, the lights have dimmed and European lounge-type music pumps out at low volume in the ballroom. Martin has grown four inches taller thanks to nude pumps. “There’s always that moment before a party,” she says, “when—even if you have 500 people on the RSVP list—you always have that split second of, what if no one comes?”

But right on the nose at six, the first guests arrive. Forty minutes later, lithe blonds in neon and men, one wearing red leopard-skin pants, pack the ballroom, chomping skewers of chicken satay and pineapple and mozzarella. Sandman’s red head has disappeared into the party thicket, nowhere to be seen. Martin’s in the heart of the action, hugging and chatting. She’s happy: the floral arrangement got fixed, Simon’s signing books, and she likes the outfits people are wearing.

“Now it’s just a matter of managing the line,” she says. “We’ve got great reporters here, everyone’s here. All our friends are here!”

The site where one can subscribe to the Gourmet email list reads: "We’re still in a limited trial, but give us your email address and we'll send you an email when we’re ready to show you to the table."

Ugh, those puns. Next to the phrase "local commerce company," they are the worst thing about this company.

I get that for LivingSocial to stay relevant in this market, the company must offer above and beyond what its competitors are selling. The thing that was always likable about LivingSocial, though, was the message behind its deals that everyone should have access to this upscale brand of activities, like fine dining, plus a body free of unwanted hair. There was also the occasional deal that brought things back down to earth.

Isabella will preview the menu for his new Georgetown restaurant, Bandolero, at a sold-out days-long pop-up held at LivingSocial headquarters at 918 F Street NW. The meal costs $119 and will feature five courses and cocktails.

With the launch of Gourmet in all its name-dropping glory, will LivingSocial stop being about helping the little guy to finally afford to have his house cleaned professionally? While yesterday's deal for CVS suggests otherwise, language like "invitation-only" suggests catering to a more exclusive set of consumers. You can't be everything to everyone, LivingSocial!

Also: Washington Post; it's called Top Chef.

After the jump: A smattering of food news!

DIGEST THIS NEWS:

• "New American" restaurant Unum opens in Georgetown. Eater also has the details on Society Fair, a fancy "food emporium" in Old Town.

• Black & Orange opened its location at 14th and U streets yesterday with the debut of a Bloody Mary Burger.

• Mike Isabella isn't the only Top Chef alum moving to Georgetown. Looks like Spike Mendelsohn will open a second Good Stuff Eatery location in the area this year. Good Stuff Crystal City is set to open soon as well.

• Chef José Andrés loves Uber.

• Reliable Source spotted Rob Lowe at Founding Farmers and Michelle Obama at the Hamilton.

• There may be a ramen shop coming to Adams Morgan.

• Capital City Diner closed, and some people on Twitter are sad about it.

Also on tonight's show, SOPA could change the way the internet works. Now, some of the biggest websites in the world like Google and Wikipedia are going dark in protest of the anti-piracy bill. Ryan Radia, from the Competitive Enterprise Institute, explains what this legislation would mean and how it pins tech companies against big Hollywood businesses.

These are all questions I asked myself, exasperated, after reading a short interview published in Washingtonian last week with Jill Richmond, founder of the dining clubs The Coterie and its predecessor, the Number 68 Project.

The Coterie, conceived by Richmond along with Nick and David Wiseman, asks members for $42 per month to get access to special menus, or "black box tastings," at five local restaurants — Birch & Barley, PS7's, 701, Bibiana, and Fiola. The five-course, off-menu prix fixe meal will cost diners $135 per person, which includes tax, tip, and at least two wine pairings. Members are required to give 72 hours advance notice for a reservation.

The Coterie's two other programs are salon-style dinners ("culinary salons," which is essentially what the Number 68 Project was) and "Sunday fireside cocktails." Membership gets you three free nights by the fire and discounts on the dinners, but these are open to the public.

The Coterie has almost reached its cap of 300 "premiere" members, and soon it will announce a "silver" level of membership with more available slots.

It doesn't sound so bad, right? Kind of fancy, but maybe better suited for someone who pays for spa treatments at their upscale gym. I roll my eyes at people who go to Vida, but only because I am jealous of them.

The Washingtonian article, however, made the Coterie sound, to me, like the summit of snobbery. Like this paragraph, for example.

Currently, membership is granted to anyone who pays the fee, though this may change. Richmond envisions members who are 'thirtysomething-plus, pretty dynamic, in this city for work but interested in travel and food. They probably watch TED podcasts until their heads burst. They’re not solid intellectuals, but they’re curious people I’d count as part of my friend network.' She envisions them working downtown but seeking 'more in this city than just a happy hour. They probably read the Monocle,' she adds, laughing.

I was also slightly annoyed by this paragraph's assertion that people would only live in D.C. for their jobs, but not the culture.

 After the jump: The real Jill Richmond

(Photo by Dallas Lillich)

Richmond lived in D.C. back in 2003 and stuck around until 2007, when she moved to London. She's now at the World Bank as a consultant and has worked in economic development and policy for years. Her thesis was titled "The International Criminal Court’s intervention in Uganda: Political and Cultural Ramifications for Local Justice," according to her LinkedIn profile.

Development? Justice? A person interested in these things could not be so horribly pretentious!

And it turns out, she isn't.

Richmond started the Number 68 Project in early 2010 in London in order to help her friend Faiza Hasan, a chef, open a restaurant without making the full commitment. Richmond's advice and help opening a pop-up to "dip her toe before she took a big leap" proved exactly what Hasan needed.

The pop-up ran for nine weeks and got plenty of good press. When she moved back to D.C. in the fall of that year, she wanted to bring the same idea — "unusual spaces to house unusual restaurant concepts" — to the District.

So the sold-out Number 68 Project dinners ran for nine weeks and featured food by the city's best chefs along with enlightening conversations and entertainment based on a specific theme.

The Coterie, which comes on the heels of Number 68's success, can be called exclusive because of its price tag, but when Richmond talks about it, she puts emphasis on the chefs. Sure, those interested in what chefs have to offer off-the-menu may be fancier than most, but this is primarily about the food. 

Richmond, who says she hopes to work for the Coterie on a full-time basis soon, guarantees these acclaimed chefs time to exhibit their creativity.

"At the end of the day, they have 72 hours notice. We provided all the operational structures in place for them be cooking for the ideal diner. We're not working on math; we're not guaranteeing flow and traffic. We're saying we're giving you a guaranteed reservation for basically a $125 check," she said.

She's putting the food-lover, the experimental eater, in front of the chef for him to play with. In a city where a tasting menu at Komi or CityZen costs about what this one does (minus the monthly membership fee), that's not a bad deal.

"This is basically the person that you want to be cooking for," she said.

"Imagine you had your own lab in your own kitchen," Richmond described. "You’re testing ideas, you’re being really inventive, you’re working with other ingredients. We create the environment for them to do that. We make it possible for you to be inventive in your own kitchen."

After the jump: Lots of food news!

DIGEST THIS NEWS:

• If I had $1,000, I wouldn't spend it on this Alice Waters dinner thing that looks pretty awesome, but maybe you should?

• How many calories are in the world's largest cupcake, Georgetown Cupcake? How can you even call that a cupcake, Georgetown Cupcake?

• Travel and Leisure names Ted's Bulletin one of the best brunches in the country.

• The Room 11 expansion has its own blog and it is my new favorite blog.

• There are so many wines to choose from at E Street Cinema nowadays. Watching an independent film + drinking wine = SOPHISTICATION OVERLOAD

• Fuel Pizza opens today at 16th and K streets NW.

• War of the noodles: Columbia Heights' new pop-up noodle bar is just FEET away from the best pho in D.C.!

• You know how in the late '90s Weezer played secret shows in small venues using the pseudonym Goat Punishment? This is kinda like that.

• Chris Shott ate the Red Palace's "burporken." Also, congratulations to Shott on his coming out (as a stoner on the Internet).

Last December, I spoke with Zac Gittens and Otis Collins, the D.C. natives and BFFs behind the Tie Society, which launched in November. The guys are a two-man operation, working out of a house in Adams Morgan and offering a variety of neck ties for a monthly fee.

And now David Powers, a D.C. attorney with WilmerHale, has teamed with lifelong friend Scott Tindle to do pretty much the exact same thing. This month, they launched TieTry, a two-man operation that runs out of Tindle’s house in Alabama and offers a variety of neck ties for a monthly fee.

In addition to the shared cute backstory, the Netflix-ish models of TieTry and Tie Society are basically indistinguishable—classy websites, comparable pricing (one charges $19.95 for a three-tie monthly plan, the other charges $19.99), and free shipping.

Collins learned about TieTry after seeing someone tweet about the idea being stolen from Netflix and assumed it was in reference to Tie Society. Nope, it linked back to last week’s DCist article about TieTry. He isn’t worried about competition so early into his company's tenure.

“We welcome that,” he says. “It’s a validation of our model, in some respects.” Collins says another online tie service means customers are willing to change to a different retail model to get their cravats.

“The real story is the death of the retail model,” he declares. Yes, the death of the retail model is a fine story, but we prefer the story is dueling necktie rental services. Can these plucky upstarts co-exist? We'll be watching.

The gym to which I used to belong has given me until the 15th to sign back up at a discount. Promotions to join new gyms will expire soon. People who already go to the gym on the regular have already stopped complaining about their gyms being full of newcomers because the newcomers have already stopped going.

Skipping your workout is easy. In this city, though, there's no excuse to skip attempts at eating well. It's almost as convenient to grab a quick bite of healthy, delicious food as it is to stand in line at Five Guys. Check out the gallery above for some of your healthiest options in the city. If you find yourself at a loss, there's always the Whole Foods salad bar.

After the jump: Chef RJ Cooper makes a sandwich, gets butchered, and more!

DIGEST THIS NEWS:

Everyone's talking about Restaurant Week. We are too, sort of.

Founding Farmers makes Food Republic's list of 10 Sustainable Restaurants.

A family-friendly restaurant coming to Clarendon? You don't say!

Local food journalists will be on the Kojo Nnamdi Show today at noon.

The awning over the closed Adams Mill Bar and Grill in Adams Morgan has been replaced! Southern Hospitality will have $10 small plates and $20 entrees. No, don't get your hopes up — it's not owned by Justin Timberlake.

District Taco is officially breaking ground in D.C.

Warren Brown's Love Cafe on U Street is closing after eight years. EIGHT YEARS! "Love cafe was wonderful fun, but after 8 great years says adieu Jan 29! Find us at CakeLove Feb & beyond. Much love...," Brown tweeted.

Forbes picks the Palm as D.C.'s top spot for a power lunch. Bleh. Do some research next time.

R.J. Cooper of Rogue 24 made Washington City Paper food critic Chris Shott a sandwich. Today, Cooper's going under the knife for open-heart surgery. You can wish him well on Twitter.

On Sunday, Sticky Fingers Bakery will defend its title on the Food Network's Cupcake Wars. Watch the episode at a viewing party at Bourbon in Adams Morgan (on the second floor) beginning at 7 p.m. Free cupcakes will be served.

Eater DC has an in-depth review of the new, open-all-night Hamilton.

Also on tonight's show, White House officials, along with the Defense Secretary, have released the new vision for the Pentagon. Defense Department officials warn America will no longer be able to be fully engaged in two conflicts with the new budget cuts. There is also a push to look east, toward Asia with a focus on cyber warfare. CQ's John Donnelly explains the changes and if they'll really stick when it comes to war.

Red Velvet Cupcakery in Chinatown used to promote something similar to Gtown by sending out a password and giving free cupcakes to the first 50 people who showed up and said it. Now, though, they're doing something called "Talent Tuesdays." What kind of "talents" do people perform in front of the defenseless cupcake-store worker, you ask?

Worker Becca Scott says she's seen people sing, read poetry, and do crazy yoga pozes.

"Recently a girl was super nervous about singing in public, but REALLY wanted a free cupcake," Scott said. "After several minutes of fretting and looking up lyrics, she sang Edie Brickell's 'What I Am.' You can't just sing 'Happy Birthday' for a free cupcake!"

But you CAN sing Edie Brickell?

Another server, Melia Suppy, recalls a man and a woman, a pair of strangers, who sang for each other's cupcakes. "It was pretty cute," she said.

"Another time two women came in and made a rap about Red Velvet. One of them did the beatboxing. I had to do some drumming for them as the server. It was pretty well-coordinated."

"They kept waiting for no customers to be there, and we were busy, so they finally just had to do it for other people, which they were kind of embarrassed about," Suppy said.

Browse Red Velvet Cupcakery's Twitter feed as you do your vocal warm-ups.

Even though Baked & Wired doesn't seem to host any sort of regular promotion, the cupcake shop does play off its name enough. First tweet of the year: "New years resolution? Get baked errday !" [sic?] Worth going to Georgetown for, I'd say.

AFTER THE JUMP: Taylor Gourmet opens on 14th Street and more!

DIGEST THIS NEWS:

The Taylor Gourmet opened in the U Street Corridor yesterday. The mayor was there! But also mayors of Taylor on Foursquare (OK?) were there to help cut the ribbon and eat the first sandwiches and pose for a sad photo.

• Sad photo redux: Cleared-out Whole Foods!

• Restaurant Week 2012 begins next week, on Monday, January 9. Look for TBD's special "anti-restaurant week" section, which will begin running on Friday. We'll have some great suggestions for alternatives.

• You can now buy truffles at market price at Fiola for your own use at home, a thing I am sure many of you will do.

• Eater DC has details on new restaurants on Capitol Hill and in Columbia Heights and NoMa.

• New Fojol Brothers Thai truck, Volathai, launched yesterday.