Canon Seattle – not just a whiskey and bitters emporium

Canon is a little cocktail bar in Capitol Hill next to Lark and across from Cafe Presse on 12th. It has wide blinds in the window and its bar-tops are rumored to be stained with bitters. On one of my runs as a wine rep, I came across this little hidden whiskey house and was intrigued from the get-go. You see, I love whiskey and bitters. My well drink of choice is Whiskey & Ginger (real ginger-ale, bar “ginger-ale” disgusts me) with bitters and a slice of lime. For a crafted cocktail, I love anything with whiskey and vermouth like a Manhattan. The bitter the better. I like old man drinks and Canon is where you can get one. No sweetheart, you won’t find some cheesy over-sugared “cosmo” on the menu here.

Seattle is really exploding with the whole speak-easy, prohibition style old-fashioned cocktail bars with bartenders in cute little vests to match. I read up on Canon and realized my intrigue was onto something as Jamie Boudreau, the mastermind running the canon, had been praised as the next best bartender/mixologist in America. But I was intrigued not just by his thoughtful inventions like the Vermouth experiment (a tiny 3 mini Manhattans with each a unique Vermouth including Punt e Mes) but I was curious about his food. After all, the cocktail is intended as either an appetite stimulant or an after-dinner digestive “remedy”. Bitters stimulate our digestive juices, they really do taste like medicine for a reason! If you have a good tummy warming cocktail, you should have some noshes to accompany them. Indeed, Canon is the best kept foodie secret. Pictured above was a Cassoulet, which is a type of is a rich, slow-cooked casserole originating in the south of France, containing meat (in this case, sausage)  and white haricot beans with a roasted chicken leg. It was truly flavorful, considerate and complex in textures. I like that there was this creamy rich sauce and then perfectly cooked buttery beans, herbaceous sausage rich in sage (I heart sage), and this crispy skinned chicken whose meat was super moist and creamy. And it was good enough for 2 and a steal at 20. We also had some other small plates like Ricotta Gnudi (a type of ricotta dumplings) and seared salmon with black truffle and leeks. These were simple, tasty and downright wonderful. Because food’s friend is wine (cocktails are food’s rebound), I found myself enjoying some unique and obscure French red wines. I highly recommend Canon- but make a night of it. Start off with some caramel popcorn, order a couple small plates and enjoy a glass or two of  a unique wine and finish with nice digestif cocktail like the Vermouth experiment. Cheers!

The Capital Grille: Seattle

Everyone says “save dessert for last” but in some cultures, dessert is actually eaten 1st in order to properly digest a meal. I.e. sugars digest fast and protein, fiber, fat and complex carbs burn slow. Better to eat from simple burning to slow in order to prevent stomach upset. Whatever, in that case I’ll just eat my cake before and after my meal. How about that, nutrition.

I’ve lived in Seattle for several years now and I have always noticed the Capital Grille but never would have given it a thought until I attended a Foodportunity Seattle Food Blogger’s happy hour. It seemed way too fancy, you know what I mean by that. The kind of fancy that I thought only invited the symphony go-ers, the steakhouse ballers and the diamond girls. With valet men outside the door, how could you blame me in my funky boots and nose ring sporting 20something self? I mean, I’m not frumpy I just never felt that was my scene. Luckily, I did go out of pure chance back in August and I was quite impressed with the whole experience. They sampled us their entire happy hour which included marinated skewered meats, lobster sliders, parm-truffle frites, calamari, mini-caprese sandwiches and desserts. And best of all they were serving adorable cocktails  in mini martini glasses and such. And to my surprise, valet was complimentary for evening diners. The staff were extremely cordial, warm and surprisingly involved in the local food scene. Make no mistake, The Capital Grille is definitely under a massive corporate umbrella of chain restaurants and they are in the same brand family as Red Lobster and The Olive Garden. However, the Capital Grille, at least in Seattle, is seemingly committed to seasonality, green-practices such as low-energy lighting, progressive recycling programs and food donation programs that work with local non-profits such as Food Lifeline.  It just goes to show, never judge a book by its corporate cover. I am realizing, and appreciating, the corporate entities that are beginning to adopt responsible behaviors.

Anyway, aside from all thaaaaaaat…lets get down to the pudding:)

I returned for lunch this week and was thoroughly content that I did. Walk in the rotating door and you are greeted most courteously by the host staff as they seat you and LAY your napkin on your LAP. Not to mention they have coat check! I must say, the menu’ was pretty diverse and interesting showcasing creative salads and appetizers like hot pepper calamari and wagyu beef carpaccio as well as enticing sandwiches and entrees which are also very steak and seafood centric yet with a seasonal twist. However, if it is your 1st time, I would suggest the “Plates” menu’ for lunch. Which is a choice of soup or salad, sandwich and a vegetable side. Sounds boring, right? Does porcini bisque, clam chowder or lobster bisque sound boring? What about Tenderloin Sliders, Lobster Roll or a Fork and Knife BLT? Truffle pomme frites, Green Beans with Heirloom Tomatoes and Leeks sound blah too? NOT.

(I regrettably left home w/o my camera, please bear with me and my Droid shots:)

Lobster Roll w/ Truffle Parmesean Frittes

Perfectly tender melt in your mouth, savory umami stricken mini tenderloin sliders, order them medium.

This 3 course Lunch is quite the steal at $15. We were in a good mood so we also decided to treat ourselves to a bottle of bubbly Marques de la Tour Brut, which was a steal and a half. A perfect lunch bubbly that was light, crisp and low enough in alcohol that we could justify enjoying hooch at noon. But, I think anytime is wine time, just think of the Greek and Romans winos back over 3000 years ago in the Bacchanalia Era…do you think they cared what time it was?

I think this place is great for a downtown lunch trek, a perfect place to bring your boss to, to host work parties and happy hours for sure. If you are looking to experience dining in the heart of downtown with a wicked extensive wine list, I dare you to check out The Capital Grille. Its not “sceney’ or “trendy” which at times can be more pretentiously grating than seemingly upscale fine dining. They seem to have a consistent focus on what should be important in a dining experience. That is: fine service, pro-chef crafted food in a top location. Go see a show at Benaroya or The Triple Door and stop by here for Happy Hour, pre-show drinks or Dinner, the valet is complimentary so might as well save the stress of parking and treat yourself!  Also, I think this is also the spot for surf and turf on a fancy occasion splurge…or even a classy datey dinner or post-date dessert. Check out the opening photo of Creme Brulee-inspired Ricotta & Vanilla Wafer crust cheesecake….oh man good thing there were leftovers, I was quite thankful the day after:)

I hope you go and eat here at least once! It made our day:) Happy New Year!

Bar del Corso: mixed emotions

Bar del Corso has been very much the talk of the Italian pizza town since it opened earlier this summer in Beacon Hill. It had been recommended to me by real Italians even, so I thought: this must be good.

I enjoy the fact that there is a relatively classy pizza joint in Beacon Hill, thus forcing Seattleittes out of their typical Capitol Hill/Fremont/Ballard caves and be in a neighborhood where hey, it’s a real city neighborhood with fantastic diversity and yummy hole-in-the walls.  So the fact that there’s a well-reviewed Italian joint (that is pretty snazzy yet not über pretentious) in Beacon Hill forcing people to get out of lala[downtown]land gets a golf clap in my book.

The food on the other hand, was kind of an emotional roller coaster. I’ll explain…

Of course there was a mild wait for seating, for being a no-reservations kind of place. But I was pleased to know I could be comforted by an (orange bitter and campari-stiff-like) Antico Americano  while the wait.

Bar del Corso has a pretty impressive rotating seasonal specials chalkboard. For it finally being summer, there was a Prosciutto e Melone starter that couldn’t be passed up.

And there were fresh figs on the side:) In theory, this is a fantastically refreshing yet savory treat that is served throughout Italy during the warmest months. The prosciutto should melt in your mouth just like the cantaloupe and have a salty, honey floral melange finish. But this prosciutto was a tad tough for my liking. I was also confused by the figs. Figs I think are paired best with nuts, like pistachios.  I feel compelled to mention here that I have some Persian tones to my upbringing, melon and figs are very much apart of Persian eating. I will say, I seldom if ever saw melons and figs on the same plate. I think it’s because the flavors of figs dominate and cancel the subtle ones of  melon. Throw in very cured chewy Prosciutto and you got yourselves a full on palate tug-o-war. I would’ve even preferred dates to be the side though than the figs. So the verdict is, great seasonal idea for a starter but it didn’t quite tickle my fancy.

The next started on the agenda were Vongole alla Marinara, which were clams sautéed in white wine and cherry tomatoes

Bar del Corso has an open kitchen set-up, so I caught the cook out of the corner of my eye from the bar making le vongole. I had a feeling they were diving in an overheated pan and would be barely splashed with the marinara. The cook gave me an odd linecook sense. That he was in the kitchen because he had linecook experience, and not because he went to culinary school nor had a sincere interest in food. Hey but who am I to judge. When was the last time I worked in a kitchen? But those vongole were pretty overcooked, rubbery and dry, and the marinara was disproportionately detectable and sitting at the bottom of the bowl. So perhaps my intuition was on to something.

Now on to the good news and upward swing of the coaster. Heirloom Tomatoes and Burrata Mozzarella, my favorite. Dazzling with sea salt, balsamic, nutty/fruity olive oil and basil. The sea salt crystals were plopped on as if they knew that there was going to be flavor burst explosions once hit with the fresh nectarous tart tomato and the chompers. The Burrata, aaaahhh forget I ever praised Ethan Stowell for his Burrata, this burrata was soft. This burrata was SILKY. Grassy and sweet creamy. It was a true and through.

My only complaint is that it was tiny! But that’s the meaning of quality over quantity. Oh, and another complaint, the olive oil leftover tomato seed and balsamic juices were left in an innocent puddle all lonesome. I would have gladly sopped them up with some bread or leftover pizza crust had they left the juice/oil plate or brought an weensy piece of pane to begin with! Which brings me to my next and last topic: La Pizza Ortolana

Smokey dough. Smoked Mozzarella. Deep wilted bitter greens to offset the creamy sour-dough and cheese. Crispy salty ambrosial coppa salumi. When you bite in, you almost think Seattle and Italy are the same geographic gastolocale. Well, I must say I never witnessed “wilted greens” on any pie in Italia, nor did I see some fancy coppa either. They just say salame over there. There are 3 ways Italians usually describe salumi on le pizze: salame, salame piccante (the closest equivalent of coppa) prosciutto crudo e cotto. Basta. I like how American pizzerias try to get all fancy with the Italian reciPIES. To me, the dough “pasta”is what sells me. It was airy, smokey, sour, salty and slightly chewy. With those little charred spots that assure you it was wood oven fired, just like the Italians do it (better). Overall, this place is a great concept. The menu at 1st glance is simple and has strong authentic Italian-like selections. I started to reminisce about the last time I was at Roman hole-in-the-wall when I saw the Suppli al Telefono on the small plates menu. You can tell the owner intentionally structured the menu based on how a real casual slightly spendy metropolitan pizzeria in Italy would appear. I appreciate all the ways that it is Seattle inspired and Italian rooted. They merged together what I missed about Seattle dining (the decor, the trendiness, the comfinesse, the experimental mixing, GREENS, etc) and all the things I will never forget about Italian food. But I could only sense the heart from the owner by proxy, the people in the kitchen attempting to execute this persons vision didn’t convince me. Other than the dough. The pizza dough couldn’t dishearten anyone. It was a very individualistic unfriendly atmosphere. It was quite stale. And some of the starters confused me. But perhaps Bar del Corso is trying to establish its personality, piano piano (slowly but surely). I would recommend you take a visit, but stick to a pizza pie and a salad. Ask for bread for the olive oil remnants, you’re going to thank me.

Last thought: By the way, I thought it was a little adorable for the restaurant owners to have a custom designed wood oven in Italy shipped over. When you walk in, take a peek. Its got Bar del Corso written all over it

My birthday dinner: Anchovies and Olives. Oh, the irony!

Now, you aren’t going to believe this. But I actually chose to eat at an Ethan Stowell restaurant for my birthday dinner, you know, by the Italian-inspired chef I have ranted about for the last year.

I was hopeful, I was curious, I was willing to set aside our differences and sweep it all under the rug. The menu’ looked interesting, with words like $1 happy hour penn cove oysters, apple rhubarb geoduck crudo and marinated radicchio sultana basil smoked mussel salad, how could you blame me?

Lets get started. The “power hour” penn cove oysters were slimy and bleachy tasting. Don’t be fooled by looks. They were more slimy than they were firm. They were more astringent than bright & briney. And they finished more citrus-like than cucumbersome.

I must admit though, I really shouldn’t be complaining about $1 oysters. But they had so much potential and were ruined by 2 simple little details!

1.) The oysters came already doused with the mignonette, which I’m pretty sure was spike with white wine instead of champagne. And if it was champagne, it was rancid. Again, I am not fussying it up over $1 oysters, but c’mon! How hard is it to leave mignonette “sauce” on the side in a little dainty saucer that it should stay in before being lightly spooned on immediately before making the slurpy leap into your belly!

2.) The oysters came covered in cracked coriander. Okay, I love fresh cracked coriander, and the fusion was a nice thought, but coriander has properties to that of flour or cornstarch. I.e. In India cuisine, coriander is used traditionally, not only for its nutty orange spice goodness, but also as a thickening agent for curries.

Lets put 1 + 2 together: They added a thickening agent (coriander) a top of mignonette dressed fresh oysters and you got yourself a slimy “Pine Sol” gooeyshellfish  disaster. But for $1, its a novelty at best.

The appetizers were actually decent so I did manage to calm down and feel confident for the Primi round. I’m being a tad dramatic, but those oysters deserved to be naked with dignity!

Anyways, back to the good news: the apps

I have to say, Stowell has definently impressed me with his Burrata skills. I had the pleasure of indulging in it before at How to Cook a Wolf and this time it came paired with a red pepper and saba caponata. I bet Mamma’s Lil Red Peppers had something to do with this roasted savory seafood salad concoction. I have to say, that caponata (or in siciliano, capunata:) had a  pretty creative twist that still retained  its authenticity for what concerns southern Italian comfort food. Even though this one was made sans fried eggplant, it used a red pepper variation (hence the creative twist suggestion). Most caponata I find in restaurants are made without seafood, which is what is traditionally found in Sicilian Capunata, where the salad originates. And they added little thoughtful yet true compliments such as golden sultanas that sweetly sealed the deal with the Burrata. Bravo.

The other apps were Fried Oysters with crunchy Savoy Cabbage in an surprisingly fresh anchovy pepper dressing and Castelvetrano Olives (those hearty green ones) bathing and marinating in chili and lemon olive oil with a rosemary twig. Oh, and buttery crusty Baguette from my FAVORITE bakery: Columbia City. Well done.

I even tried the Geoduck Crudi interlaced with apple and rhubarb on a bed on crisp cucumber and topped with picked mustard seed.

The Apple Rhubarb mix lent a sweet poignancy to the buttery firm Geoduck. The mustard seed had a spicy briny finish, including hints of honey and apple cider vinegar, to the little cucumber geoduck crudi stack. Very subtle and obnoxiously refreshing,

I was thrilled to see what the Primi (seafood pastas), or my standard of a main, would delight my palate with. Only to be two-faced.

One face was scary: a primi of black worm-thick spaghetti salt lick Frutti di Mare hodgepodge snowed in with roe (Spaghetti Neri with Squid, Mussels and fresno chili):

…and rice porridge (Cuttlefish Risotto):

I think these images speak for themselves…

Although I will say, the pasta was just too much. All I could taste was the pasta and the baby squid with the occasional squeak of roe in between my teeth. But when asked how the sauce was, I didn’t have a proper response. The sauce was essentially a salt broth. There could have been a tad more pepper, olive oil or butter, lemon even, and I didn’t even realize there was “fresno chili.” The Primo was a good idea in essence, even the squid was actually cooked well (which is so easy to screw up) but I think the chef needs to rethink finishing the pasta with an anonymous salt solution.

I have to say, over all, this was the best Ethan Stowell restaurant I have visited yet. I think my immediate reaction is worth noting but not irreparable. These inconsistencies are simply missed opportunities. The menu’ items are traditional yet PNW inspired with creative splashes here and there, the cost of each dish was manageable considering it is a seafood restaurant, and the service was beyond friendly but real. There is no horrendous systematic chronic pattern as I noticed at Staple and Fancy for example, instead just a few acute maladies that I firmly think will be caught and remedied at some point. Except for the risotto. That my friend, is a chronic disaster and should just quietly step off the menu’ before any aficionado of Northern Italian food steps in and discovers this travesty.

The Walrus and the Carpenter.

“I weep for you,” the Walrus said:

“I deeply sympathize.”

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchiefs

Before his streaming eyes.

“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter,

“You’ve had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?”

But answer came there none—

And this was scarcely odd, because

They’d eaten every one.

…Indeed eaten every one. Sgulp!

Hama Hama. Kumamoto. Penn Cove.  Those were the ones who made the fateful leap into my belly. Almost painfully cold, kinda made your teeth squeal and your molars zing. Sgulpy, milky, meaty and slippery, these ones were ever so munchy munchable.  So good, they were ordered to the 3rd power.

As far as small plates goes, they got it going on. Fried oysters (seemingly southern style in the fryage) with a thick creamy cilantro aioli.  Pork Belly over lentils and greens. Alright Seattle, enough with the Pork Belly. Except you, Carpenter. These were THICK smokey SLABS of MEATY GREASY SWINE. Mmmm. And, salty. Fried brussel sprouts. Crispy buttery and cruciferously wicked. Steak tartare with a farm egg and crostini. At first I thought, who the hell would order steak tartare from an oyster bar. At last, I realized: smart people. It was as if the egg was a a silky olive oil custard creme and the taboo minced steak was lusciously mustardy and made my stomach butterfly with infatuation at this pinnacle moment: my life’s very first bite of raw cow flesh. Romantic, I am.

I love this place. did i mention that yet?