Today is the first of December, and as my hardwired seasonal dogmas tell me, the true start of winter and Christmas. I'm told the world might end (again) on the solstice, so I'm decking the halls double time. Getting into the spirit is the easiest at the start of the season, when you don't feel rushed to plan tomorrow's parties or get your shopping done, and have the sense and wherewithal to enjoy the leisurely hanging of a bit of tinsel. The hard part is letting go of November's savory pleasures. Those sprawling feasts laden with plates of harvest treasures. That lingering golden shimmer of fall, giving way to the dark, crystalline chill. The cold blossoming into hoarfrost, blah, blah... Yes children, winter is coming.
This fall we visited the Chinese Night Market in the International District and found Egg Puffs, light and puffy spheres born of an eggy Chinese batter poured onto a special waffle iron that produces the best fortune cookie you've ever had. We waited on line about an hour for our first taste of egg puff, not knowing what to expect and wondering if they'd be anything like the festival moon cakes we'd seen advertised. While we waited we looked up into the skies and pondered the threat of moon wobble, lending an air of fantasy to our highly-anticipated snack, and by the time we got our bag we'd renamed the whole experience. Moon waffles, available at Sub Sand (a cute little spot with banh mi and great service) are great for any occasion, especially the end of the world.
This trip to NYC was a luxurious 6 days long, giving us time to see, eat and tour places we'd never been. We finally went to the Cloisters museum up in Washington Heights, but not before dining at Bleu Evolution. The place makes their pasta in house, and really gets down on some soup, especially the Ribollita and French onion. Their gnocchi was outstanding, and though we had some trouble with the bill, we'll definitely be back next time.
Hello, long lost readers. I'm traveling tomorrow, bound for Canada to meet my dearest friend's new baby girl and eat some Canadian fare, (look out Tim Horton's). Today, I'm gathering my druthers, my wool socks and the most notable dine-outs from the last two months to put together a catsup episode, so we can pretend I didn't fall out of your newsfeed for the last two months. Summer is distracting up here. There's really no time to sit down and write you delicious love letters every week.
We'll begin with my salad days. A period during which I only ate salad to combat an infection, it was a fresh, crunchy and lucid few days. The salad here pictured is a pile up of withering vegetable drawer elegance - nearly dead strawberries, bell pepper, cucumber, broccoli and a sprinkle of sunflower seeds. The process: mince a clove of garlic, some fresh fennel feathers, a half teaspoon of oregano, a shower of balsamic and a crank of pepper. Rough up your strawberries in the mixture and let it sit a while. The flavors will seep into the berries and exercise your patience, which is also good for infections. Add some bite sized roughage and get down.
I'm a fan of the home salad bar, because those moments of whimsical counter top invention can really turn my day around, but keeping those ingredients green can be a challenge. Luckily, just down the street is Cactus, a southwest kitchen with my new favorite, the watermelon salad. Available for a limited time at a snobby southwest kitchen near you, it's spending its lamentable last few days of summer making me its slave. Cactus adds watercress and radish, with small crumbles of cotija, and so far is my favorite. Be sure to try Poquito's version, with mint, jicama, zippy little slices of serrano and huge cubes of queso fresco. If you're bored with salad, their totally gorgeous patio can offer prime snob-watching, huge platters of tostadas and any number of ridiculous cocktails, like El Dude - the Mexican caucasian made with tequila and horchata. Yes, horchata. Did I mention they have fried grasshoppers? Something for everyone.
Cactus on Alki
Poquitos in Capitol Hill
Totally irrational suspicion of square watermelons.
Also impressive, Cafe Mox' spinach/prociutto/chickpea crouton salad. It paired well with a bright vinaigrette, a long game of Ticket to Ride, and just-right vanilla Italian soda.
The Outsider's Bean Dip
It's the summer of salads, bright, sun-slathered patios at happy hour, and any taste of Texas I can get. One notable patio is deep in the dark recesses of The Outsider. When I wasn't resenting my waitress, I was enjoying the bountiful trellises, fiesta ware, and sharp decor. The bean dip was smooth and affordable,and when we'd finished the chips, the fried platanos took over. My friend had the rum punch, which was divine, but they'd just run out of it so I ordered a Moscow mule, which was a little weak, and when I asked the waitress to look into it she had nothing to offer, and then avoided me until she decided I was ready for the check.
"Is this thing on?"
Cool. I've avoided people before. And I understood when they tipped me accordingly. And the world goes 'round.
Sometimes you just have to pick yourself up, plant yourself in a booth at Skilletand pretend the check won't come if you just keep ordering cocktails, which is actually exactly the way things work. At happy hour, each drink is still about $10, but when they're pouring Tito's for a homesick Texan, money is a distant, laughable threat. Really though, do you know what they're doing over there? Cucumber, cilantro, and Tito's vodka with a splash of maraschino. Yea.
Bacon included.
Good. But then they drop the bacon bloody mary on you. What they call bacon is more of a sweet, smoky, brisket reduction, mashed together in a paste. Throw in some olives, celery, capers and bacon, drown it in bloody mary, salt the rim with some fairy dust and you're there. You may be saying, YES, more bacon in everything or NO, I like my drinks with drinks in them. Fine. Dare I ask how you take your fries?
Let's talk about poutine, that monumental invention from, you guessed it, Canada. We've talked about it before, but none of that matters now. Because Skillet's gonna sit you down and make you some.
Hey, angel.
I could go on and on about Skillet, but you don't have time. They just opened up a satellite counter in Seattle Center so if you're allergic to Capitol Hill, you have some options. Also of note at Seattle Center is Pop Gourmet's new kiosk. Serving up our POPular gourmet flavors, (Chocolate Salted Caramel or Mumbai Delight, anyone?) it's the best way to get your popcorn fix without driving to Renton. What's that? You go to KuKuRuZa popcorn downtown? Well, if you want to fight Pike Market's overflow and look into the dead eyes of the girl working the counter there, by all means eat their inferior corn.
When it comes to sandwiches, Capitol Hill's Honey Hole has the lock down on the one spot with the most fool-proof $11 sandwich selection. Bill ordered the Waverider, delicious, yes, and I had the Fast Eddie, a stack of tri-tip steak, pepper jack, sauteed steak, grilled onions, sweet peppers and aioli. Just looking at the menu stirs this song up in my heart. So does tying my shoes, though. It's really an all-purpose number good for any occasion. Thank you, Mr. Penner.
Fast Eddie
Grilled Havarti at Norm's
Fremont has Norm's Eatery & Alehouse. As we sat down I realized it was a dog bar, open to dogs, with occasional barking and dog business. I ordered the grilled havarti and veggie sandwich, which was good, but Bill's pastrami was better.The waiter was a total babe, kind of a rom com hottie with Hey Dude confidence, and while he wasn't tending bar served our table of seven with purpose and an easy smile. We ordered a few 40oz pbrs, the house specialty that formerly came to your table dressed in the traditional paper sack, but these days seems to have outgrown in kitchy presentation. Surely, it wasn't claiming to be practical. It doesn't keep your beer cold, shield your hand from unpleasant frost or hide the fact that you probably have another one waiting in the cooler in your friend's backseat. At Norm's, that backseat is under the bar and all you have to do is make eyes at the bartender and promise to pay another $3 to get one. Vicky, this place is for us.
A wedding (catered masterfully by Food Muse Inspirations) took us to Port Townsend, home to Washington's Best Sandwich, according to Food Network. They claim that Siren's Pub makes a grilled salmon sandwich to rival all other sammies in the state. Don't be fooled, savvy sammichers. This is just an oversized piece of good local salmon, grilled and seasoned with competence and placed on a demi baguette that won't fit in your mouth. The worst part? In trying to manage each bite you're in danger of dropping prized pieces of fish to the floor, which was my number one complaint. Each component of this sandwich was delicious, but needed to be resized and remarried. And for the record, NOT the best Washington has to offer. That sandwich deserves a post all its own, and will be featured here when I'm ready.
"
Being a port, everywhere in P.T. has fresh seafood. Before we left Siren's Pub we had a round of Oyster shooters, available with or without pepper vodka, and they were the perfect farewell to our weekend getaway.
Looking back, my one regret is not getting the Salmon Chowder at Better Living Through Coffee, P.T.'s premier fundamentalist espresso bar. I enjoyed my kombucha, but the snickerdoodle tasted like pizza. It's the little things, right? See you soon!
Trips to Texas are the best. Pulling on our boots, our lassos at the ready, we find a pocket of time and make a run for it. Plunging onto the jetway in Austin, I took care not to suffer the heat. Refusing to be smothered by that thick, molten, air, I pointedly took in the smells: intoxicating waves of distant BBQ, hot pavement, Texan ladies' perfume, (deeply infused with hairspray and pheremonally activated in temperatures above 95*) and the promise of hard sun. When I touched down in Austin, I had a special thirst for a beer on Congress, which took me and my sister straight to Snack Bar. We ordered some local craft drafts, Jade had the Rock Star Bagel, toasted, schmeared, and topped with some distinctly dyed smoked salmon, (easily spotted by a savvy NW salmonite), capers, dill, tomato and onion. Snack Bar's breezy, shaded patio is a favorite of mine, home to calm and sensible staff with enough time to deliver whatever tragically hip items you ordered off their menu and chat you up about local goings on.
And that gossip is hot, too.
That cigar smoking clown in the background? Oh, we got him.
Ready to downgrade for some cheap happy hour eats, we said goodbye to Snack Bar's $1 cans of Pearl, and crossed the street to Doc's, Vicky and Jon now in tow. Finding sunny seating in their barnyard of a street-facing patio, we ducked under an umbrella, ordered Modelos and a fried flight and started in on the locals. Vicky and I are particularly bad about this. We got to dishing out scathing reviews of our waitress right away, who was a scowling mess in bad shorts that gave us away to another server after bringing our second round of beers. Apparently, we were overwhelmingly impressive or oppressive, it's really hard to say. We were busy laying waste to a basket of really perfect fried mushrooms, chicken fried steak strips, queso, chips, and beers, beers, beers.
A few hours later, Jade and Wyatt and I were at it again, finding our dinner at the Flying Saucer in the triangle. Desperate to stay awake from my first day of drinking in the heat, we ordered a pot of coffee, and a few delicious sandwiches. Our local draught emporium, they're modeled after a German pub, serving pretzels, brats, and my favorite, German potato salad. Basically just mustard, fantasy and potatoes. I ordered the Pork Belly Sandwich, a thoughtful answer to their jalapeno-apple chutney, but maybe not the right one. It was palatable, but easily upstaged, and did a fair job at almost being close to nearly being as delicious as Jade's Hippie Burger. Jalapeno-pesto mayo, avocado, and cucumber on a veggie patty and a wheat bun. It was just, so much better than, whatever you're thinking it tasted like. Forget it.
Oh yes it did.
The next day we met up with Bobby and Braden, slathered on some sunscreen, got the gear (thanks Wyatt!) and took it all to Hamilton Pool. A collapsed grotto, the pool is deeper than you dare, the wall jutting up and over you, overrun by errant ferns, and dripping down with surprising pressure onto a rock just off the edge. The size and presence of this place is staggering, begging the question of why and how and what did this? Feeding into the Pedernales river via a suspect, creeping creek nearly a mile long, you're guaranteed to glisten on your way from the pool. Leave your flip flops, bring your water hikers, and carefully disguised party favors. Drop your stuff on the bank and wade in the water, children. It's a shallow, smooth sandy bottom perfect for bare feet. Drag yourself onto a rock and nourish your sun-starved flesh.
You will go to Hamilton Pool if you're in Austin. They charge $10 per car, so start saving now. Old pro at Hamilton Pool? Then you agree, any day is the right day to go and go early. And if you like swimming holes, naturally you know all about these.
If we needed an occasion to visit, we had some options. The first annual gathering of the Sandifers' Cajun cousins is a good one, or there was Bobby's visit, or we could use Bill's 31st birthday. His mom flew him down, and gifted him an in-home cooking class. Uh, yes!
I guess we'll be branching out from cake, then.
It'd been a few months since I'd seen Jade, since I'd played some pool volleyball, and since I worked up a good sweat. So basically, it was goddamn time. Thanks to Jade, Wyatt, Vicky, Jon, Coors, Braden, Bobby, Rush, Amber, Audrey, John, Shan, Judd, Kim, Debbie, Patrick, Po, Bianca, Micah, Mom, Grandma, The Sandifers and their raucous band of Cajuns for making our visit a great escape.
Oh, friends and family. What a treat.
But the real charm of Texas? The simple things. Like Sonic onions rings. Breaded in donuts, I think.
also, sexy Shipley's donuts. Like, a lot of them. Plus slightly more.
But the crowning glory of the south as I know it, are these beauties.
Tamale, Egg & Cheese and Chorizo, Egg & Cheese from Maudie's, who makes some excellent Jamaica. (Hibiscus tea, dummies.)
Bill's step dad Hershel makes some killer breakfast tacos. And we do a phenomenal job of eating them.
O ye holy of holies. Miss you.
Dine of the Week A serendipitous find by our friends, the Yellow Jacket Social Club made me french toast I'll never forget. The company was grand, the Coors was flowin, the heat was pumpin and everything that hit the table was delicious. Not to be missed: The Mister. A ham and gruyere panini dripping with bechamel, it makes best friends fast with that $2 pint of Coors. Also, their frittata. God.
Do yourself a favor. Take yourself to the east side for brunch. Slummin it never tasted so good.
Yes, it's been a month. Yes, I've been dutifully dining in this interim, but whining to myself. Here's what you missed:
Wolf song by Christopher.
New trend!
Went to Seattle's Folklife festival. Where giant xylophones go to show off, and the best acts no one admits to loving shine, like didgeridoo and djembe prodigy Christopher of the Wolves. Like most festivals, they had the typical NW festival food train, crepes, corn, elephant ears, and my new favorite, Salmon piroshky.
What's that you got there? Can I stuff it with
salmon, dill and cream cheese and deep fry it?
I'll be your best friend...
Drowning Rama
I tried Bell Thai, ordered the Swimming Rama with tofu and won't do it again. If they fry their own tofu, they're doing it without any dignity, and if they buy it, well, they're skimpin. The spinach, for which I ordered the dish, was indeed swimming, drowning in a peanut sauce that was out of key with the rest of the plate. My top complaint was getting secretly charged $2 for the worst, most limp and overcooked flat rice noodles I've ever had the occasion to complain about. Slimey. Did enjoy the black sticky rice pudding. Plan to enjoy it again soon, too.
Okay very good creamy sensation pleasures.
There was a week where I ate pizza exclusively. The highlights:
Slices on Alki. The salami should be prosciutto, but who's complaining?
Best crust within a .2 mile radius of my home. Like naan. Soft. Doughy, flavorful.
Z pizza, best $2 happy hour pizza & beer (after 9pm) within 30 seconds of rehearsal.
Definitely corporate pie, but with local zest. Vegan slice pictured.
Hot Momma's: Best/only pesto pizza with a .1 mile radius of rehearsal. Could improve their dough recipe.
Safeway 5 cheese oven ready pie, with some embellishments.
Best bang for the buck.
We stopped into Jillian's for pool & beer. Note, they do games, tv & beer. Not nachos. Don't order these nachos. You want nachos you go to Cactus.
The olives were delicious.
I took a page from the Alton Brown bible and discovered my new favorite steak. Dry aged in the fridge, seared in the cast iron then broiled. I added it to a salad of field greens, nectarines, radish & sugar snap peas. Alton suggests a three day stint in the fridge, finishing the steak under a makeshift outdoor chimney, but a few hours aging and an oven does quick work. After a few quick minutes under the broiler, I let it rest, covered, then sliced it, doused it in balsamic and threw it in. Not to brag, but it was sooOooOoo good.
Other notable home-cooking success stories include Bill's pancake chefery...
Most improved pancake award. Medal to follow.
...and my continued command of frying up salmon croquettes. I tried adding a cream cheese, caper & horseradish filling, which was a stroke of melted, savory genius on my part.
Salmon Croquettes
Mash up one can of pink salmon
Add a beaten egg, half a sleeve of crushed saltines, 2 chopped shallots, 1 T capers, salt & pepper.
Blend, form into a shallow patty, make a well and add 1 t of cream cheese horseradish.
Cover with another shallow patty and fry in a half inch of oil until golden brown.
Serve with ketchup. Or something you hold in high esteem.
Dine of the month:
Wild fennel growing taller than me like weeds in someone's yard off the beach. I know. A whole month and this was the best. But it was so good! I didn't even get to the bulb, (I haven't dug up food in someone else's yard in years), but the sweet fronds were so wonderful and unexpected. I crumpled them up and put them in Bill's sweater pocket, where they're now dehydrated, crumbling, but fragrant. I've got to get on this.
See you next time. Missed you!
Seated instantly, we were served quickly and well tended until it came time to get a box and get moving. It was getting busy, but, you know. I complain. Oh, but the food...
Against my better judgement, I passed over the highly-recommended garlic naan for the mint naan. Refreshing, its cooling powers were appreciated next to the 3* heat in our Butter Chicken. Close in flavor to a tikka masala, the butter keeps surprising you. Occasionally putting down your fork is recommended, (per usual) to better appreciate the absence of any acidity. "Creamy" doesn't really do this dish justice. Let's say, in a whisper, silky. Silky, with chicken.
I can't say much for the iced chai other than I wished I'd ordered it hot, because their was a strange flavor I like to think was from the ice. Bill tried it, decided it was heavy on the anise, so I decided to love it. Ah, the power of suggestion, and anise. His mango lassi was delicious, precisely creamy (no whisper needed), and blended with rose water. Purr.
This past weekend Bianca came through, inspiring me to go beyond the usual egg breakfast. We whipped up a quick Dutch Baby and Fritatta with tea and fruit.
No you whip it.
Dutch Baby in a buttery cast iron skillet
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup sifted all-purpose flour
1 pinch ground nutmeg
1 pinch salt
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons confectioners' sugar for dusting
Preheat skillet, buttered, in a 475 degree oven
Mix ingredients and add to hot skillet
Lower heat to 425 and bake 12 min or until puffy>>>
Dust with powdered sugar and serve
Fritatta Loaf
3 eggs
A handful of whatever veggies you have, chopped (I sauteed some creminis and shallots ahead of time)
1/2 cup shredded cheese
Fresh herbs (Oregano, basil, parsley are all easy, approachable breakfast herbs)
1 T melted butter
Heat butter in loaf pan in oven
Toss vegetables in melted butter, add 3 beaten eggs, shredded cheese and fresh chopped herbs to a loaf pan
Bake 15 min at 425, allow to cool slightly.
Serve on hearty, buttered toast.
Nom of the week
I'll carry you around like an infant, Juanita, and hold you close.
No, it's not butter. It's my girl Juanita. We discovered Juanita and her magic bag of chips a few weeks ago, and have been stocking our pantry ever since.When a bag runs low, nothing feels quite so right as buying a new bag. Sure, they're gluten free. But that's pretty irrelevant. They're also bullshit free. These chips are the end of every other chip. Forever.
