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

Bottlehouse: Three (3) words…

I. heart. alot.

I was 1st introduced to Bottlehouse in Madrona by chance for a friend’s birthday gathering. Since then, I have brought a handful of friends here almost as if to vicariously relive their 1st time visit amazement. Bottlehouse is a wine bar that refers to itself as a tasting gallery, as if this were home and the owners decided to delicately decorate it with only the finest selected wines. And by the way, everyone’s invited to dwell and be happy. I was charmed. Not only by the cute little house with grapevines grazing around the patio, but  I was charmed also by Madrona itself. I can’t quite describe its extreme quaintness and how it makes me flutter but if you have ever been to London, one could say that Madrona is a bit reminiscent of Portabello Road.

The owners are genious. Wine is enjoyed here, people are here to be casual and relax, and food is intentionally paired. There is food, however there is a strict boundary that I quite respect. Meaning that there are no small plates, there are no entrees, and there are barely desserts. What they do have are only the best local artsian cheeses and renowned Armandino Batali’s Salumi cured meats as well as staple accoutrements such as meaty castelvetrano olives, fried and sea saltyspanish marcona almonds, cornichons (crunchy crisp swoon!).

For dessert they have a teeny tiny selection of deliciously moist and butterwhipcreamy whoopie pies and fresh churned ice creams.

The one thing I don’t quite understand is that they have High 5 Pies. It’s pretty cliche’ to rag on High 5, but in this case they really have no place at a wine bar like this. Especially since they are pretty mushily non-complex and have little to do with accentuating a pour. However, with still having a limited selection of bites I have to say that this is remarkable and a smart way to remain distinct as a wine and tasting bar. But don’t be fooled, the nibbles they do have are seriously selected. They have a resident cheesemonger, who has delighted my epicurious heart on the few occassions I have dwelled. The cheesemonger makes a pitstop to your table after having decided on a wine in order to inquire a bit about your cheese preferences (soft, pungent, sweet or nutty to name a few). Those attributes are then taken into consideration with regards to what wine you chose. If that weren’t brilliant enough, once the cheese and charcuterie board have arrived you might be so lucky as to get the historical background for one of your selections as I did with the Pyramide Frais Cendre.

This cheese was a soft goat chevre-like coated in ash, and seemingly was in a pyramid/cone shape but the very tip-top seemed to be missing. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed this “minor” detail, but the cheesemonger pointed out that this cheese dated back to Napoleon I. According to historical legend, Napoleon was so spiteful towards all things Egypt after having suffered a defeat, that he chopped off the tip of this pyramid shaped cheese that his chef had developed specially for him during his time away in Egypt. Wow! Who knows if this is true? Even if it isn’t, who cares!

I have to say that Bottlehouse is, a ticket to truly unwind and pamper your senses. It is the one of the 1st establishments in Seattle to offer some of its wines on tap. They even have an BH house branded red.  I enjoy and appreciate the “market” feel and the human factor involved, where its not just some shot in the dark whether or not you’ve chosen food pairings off an inanimate menu. No, someone who knows their stuff has you covered and will talk to you about it as well as delight you with off-beat food knowledge. Many, many kudos. And the real kicker is that they have a happy hour, even on Saturday! Please do yourself a favor and relax here. And take me with you. Cheers!

http://bottlehouseseattle.com/

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.

Oysterfest 2011 in Samish, WA

Lately, I have been epicuriously dining at potlucks, backyards, farmsteads and as of most recent: at the seashore. Sometimes, the best food is that consumed in and by good company. I was lucky enough to be invited to Oysterfest 2011  in Samish, WA . And may I say, it was quite an exhibit of the Pacific Northwest BOUNTY! Not only with seafood, but also the yummy delicious sides just about everyone brought! Oysterfest was nestled this year in Samish, WA at the Acme Seafood Company along a beautiful strip of beach and mountains in view paired perfectly with breezy Bluegrass by the Shed Boys. As if donating extra joy to our lives wasn’t reason enough, the event was intended to raise money for TeenFeed, a Seattle-Based non-profit that provides resources, outreach and rehabilitation to teens living on the streets. Talk about win-win, the day came dressed with a sweet dose of SUN. The irony of it all, is that we missed the boat on the oysters, but believe me, I didn’t even notice until I put the subject line in for this post.

I can’t imagine how I got so lucky, but we were surrounded by bottomless fresh perfectly cooked crab with TEQUILA BUTTER for dipping, Mediterranean Chorizo style Mussels, CLAM FRITTERS with a buttermilky batter (paired with a divine tartar sauce), and creative potluck sides like Harissa style garlicky Carrot Salad, a creamy yet kicky Potato Salad, Fresh shucked corn and tomato salad topped with perfectly ripe avocado, several quinoa salad variations, Tuscan Panzanella  salad (a delicious olive oiled bread, tomato and fresh mozzarella salad), and a killer dessert of Blueberry Batter Cake. O.M.GOOD!  Enjoy the slideshow of the shots I managed to pull myself away from my fork and crabby fingers from to take!

This was the mouthwatering mussels and clams cooked in a Mediterranean spicy full bodied chunky tomato sauce, please mind the glaring sun:)

cracking away to fresh caught tequila butter dipped crab

my plate stock piled with amazing sides, such as this sweet citusy corn salad with fresh avocado, cilantro and tomato

The nutty smooth olive oil silkened Panzanella salad

CLAM FRITTERS in the frydaddy making!

these little clam hush puppies lasted for about 3 minutes out of the fryer and popped happily into a few lucky bellies

and how did I forget to mention the king SALMON!! This was the ultimate CANDY of the sea! So sweet, tangy, moist, peppery, melty, not to mention fresh! Please, try not to drool!

#pureheaven

Last but not least, the Blueberry Batter cake. No need to describe this buttery cakey blueberry mound of goodness!

Columbia City Alehouse: The Tuna Melt.

On June 7th, 2011, The Stranger (a Seattle weekly-like free publication but supposedly more alternative)  published its weekly food feature called “The Great Tuna Melt investigation.” At glance, I thought “did they run out of time for the food column deadline or just ran out of good ideas?” But then I read it, as they reviewed…oh say 10 or so restaurants and it was actually quite entertaining and found it rang so true. True meaning that they slammed a place for screwing up mashed up canned tuna by drowning it in mayonnaise thus essentially making a slimy slippery fatty salt-lick “messwich” and then proceeded to call them out for being over priced. It was what I thought all along when it came down to ordering a tuna melt in a pub or any other food joint. Last time I ordered one out was (as a joke) at a Marie Calender’s (also a joke) and believe me I think I needed a cow’s stomach to burn up that mound of crap.  But all that changed once that article in The Stranger came out. I took a new consideration to the tuna melt. I mean, afterall, if you can’t expect a place to do a tuna melt right, how could you trust them with a burger?

So today, after a long strenuous escape into the mountains, I decided I deserved a decadent pub burger. I was deliberating between a southern fried chicken sandwich with a spicy collard greens pesto AND aioli or the staple BURGER. Then I saw the tuna melt, the same tuna melt that got a raving review in The Stranger’s great investigation. I asked the barman: what would he choose were he in my hungry yet curious shoes (kickingly swinging from the barstool) and he said definitely the tuna melt. That sealed the deal, I wanted to taste what that reviewer tasted.  And it went a lil’ like this:

The albacore was bathed almost like a bubble bath in the mayonnaise, like it just got a makeover and a spaday. And you could actually chew up the tuna, as if there were REAL chunks of fish from the ocean. And there were little specks of green chile that seemed more like spicy chopped pickles. In a good way.

All this was grilled perfectly with a deliciously melted sharp pepperjack cheese sandwiched in crispy toasty buttery sourdough, just like mom used to make. If your mom was fancy enough to have a sandwich griller, that is. Looking back at the review David Schmader wrote on CCA’s tuna melt, he sort of crticized the bread for acting as a “bland framing crouton for the green-chili-and-albacore explosion within.” And I thought that the crispy grilled buttery (what homemade croutons do resemble I suppose) sourdough slices complimented the heck out of the “explosion” within. What more did David want? I guess you can never please a food critic.

Moral of the story is that Columbia City is pretty darn awesome with lots of undiscovered jewels (Like Columbia City Bakery?!?! I had a Bacon Date Cheddar scone just the other day that I thought I was going to faint over.) and you should one: go to Columbia City Alehouse for a delightfully crafted microbrew and a tuna melt and then pledge to make the tuna melt your gateway bite into any new (for you) brewpub, gastropub, or sandwich shop.

Perche’ No?

I was brought to Perche’ No? for a pair of occasions and the last one did it in for me to write home about. Perche’ No? is an Italian restaurant that has been in operation for over 15 years by an Asian-American family with a deep rooted fascination, appreciation and adoration for Italy, her food and culture.

Let me preface this post with the understanding that I intentionally avoid Italian restaurants in Seattle. Hopefully, by now my readers know that I have spent substantial time eating and living (2 of the same) in Italy. I love Italy so much that its almost a slap in her face to try to recreate her gastronomic magic in America. I’d rather go the local route. Ironically enough, the phrase “when in Rome…” comes to mind in times of indulgent endeavors.  And I try to check out places in Seattle that are what some would consider “experimental”, “fringe” and seasonal. And for example, it would be hard to recreate a Sardo Zuppa di Fregola that Arianna made back in the winter prior to my last departure with thoughtful compliments like Pani Guttiau that can only be found best in Sardegnia. I have these precious food memories that, to me, would serve almost as a betrayal if I tried to relive them through some makeshift Italian restaurant on American soil. Some may not understand, but I truly am a romantic at heart and severely loyal to principal.

In any case, I found myself here, after several months of intentionally avoiding Italian restaurants in Seattle. And don’t you dare say Ethan Stowell counts. He’s not Italian food. Period. Anyways, I found myself here 1st for a “Yelp” groupon like special deal and this second time organizing a Seattle-Italian meetup group dinner. I could have chosen a different place, as there are a pair of Italian joints that I secretly harbor butterflies for, but I chose Perche’ No?

Why? Well when I 1st visited on the “Yelp” deal meal, I immediately felt like this was home. There was a piano player (okay, a little cheesy but classy) but there were also pictures of the owner and their family, reviews framed from over 10years+ and warm conversation from the owner, as a reminder of Italian sociability I have grown so fond of as to long deeply for now being away for almost 2 years. And even though, this tower of a castle restaurant was dressed with fancy drapes and lamps it still had those vinyl table cloths, which most restaurants in Italy have. Regardless of its classy score.

So I felt reminded. That aside, let me talk a bit about the food.

This was Ravioli Neri con Salmone Affumicato. Basically Ravioli made “pasta nera” style (which is pasta made with squid ink, a southern delicacy that I absolutely love) and stuffed with thick belly fillet mounds of smoked salmon and dressed in a Lemon Dill cream sauce toned with garlic and topped with parsley. Now, I know what you might be thinking. Smoked salmon. Pasta Nera. Ravioli Neri. Those things together aren’t quite traditionally Italian. Commonly, Pasta Nera is found as angel hair pasta and is served with shellfish, frutti del mare, or maybe calamari. This would more than likely irritate Italian gastronomes. As who, from my observation, are sticklers to tradition and mixing of confident flavors with “Alaskan Turkey”, aka smoked salmon, is just asking for a wag of the finger.

But I decided to try it anyways. It sounded interesting, and i’d never had Ravioli Neri. And I probably never would. It was…convincing. The sauce was well done. It was nicely lemony, kicky garlicky and semi-dilly. All blanketed in a silhouette of cream. Not heavy, not. at. all. The salmon was surprising. It was the thick filet type of smoked salmon, not the raw sliver lox style. It was unusually subtle. It was like this weird tug of war on my taste buds that everyone seemed to win. The pasta was very fresh, as all pastas found at Perche’ No? (which Ethan Stowell lacks!!! He outsources his “fresh” pasta!) And was perfectly cooked. And if at any moment, the salmon wanted to take the spotlight, the lemon sauce quickly charged in as to cool its flames. And every bite was daintily finished with a creamy sweet garlic touch.

Don’t fret, I didn’t forget dessert.

Which was chocolate fluffy tasty crepes filled with a rich hazelnutty Gianduja creme and topped with a vanilla eggy zabaglione custard. I had this with a dessert liqueur, Nocello, which is hazelnut-walnut flavored and caramel in color.  The liqueur was a bit much, especially in addition to the super decadent chocolate hazelnut custard crepe masterpiece. But on its own, it would been just dessert.

Once in Rome, I asked a open-air vendor about why people would come to his stand to buy packaged frozen food when they could save money and go across the street to EuroSurgelati (basically a Grocery Outlet of all things frozen). He responded to me by saying that people will always (hopefully) prefer the human factor in their consumption practices. And I thought, even though Perche’ No? may not have a regionalized seasonal menu’ and may have dishes that aren’t completely traditional to Italian cuisine, but they definitely have that human factor that I definitely prefer, where a place like Staple and Fancy lacks. The human factor that brings the owner to meet and hold a conversation with nearly every patron, and has done so since 2002. And that you can tell that every menu item was strategically designed and thoughtfully made from scratch, with those memories of Italy always somewhere hiding in the back of their mind and obviously expressed through fresh squeezed pasta. And that is something worth tasting.

Lecosho

Lecosho is Chinook for Pig and Lecosho is also an riveting new restaurant on the Harbor Steps of Downtown Seattle, run by the gastro artist Matt Janke- the mother of Matt’s in the Market. (and is apparently no longer there, and I really don’t care as I’ve never been to MITM)

Did you find this information helpful or “captivating?” Probably not, its just I was seemingly taught, from my very intensive University degree work, that all essays, even blogs, should have a “hooking” yet (sterile) academia-ish entry intro. And see how many moments of your life I wasted trying to adhere to an academic model of writing that is arbitrarily relevant to the subject at hand, and that is: YUM.

I’ll get down to it. Which, is what I liked.

I liked: the roominess. the ability to make a rez a mere 2 days in advance. the sultry view of Elliot Bay in the background AND the steps. And being able to people watch. And realize how boring dating can be. Not that my date was boring, quite the contrary. No, I didn’t doop myself like the lady next to me whose date i’m sure had no more than 12 words to mutter. How. Lame.

We ordered:

The Housemade Sausage (this was an obvy choice) with braised cabbage in a mustard sauce with a dash of julienned green apple.

Bibb Lettuce wedges slathered modestly in a savory toasted onion ranch, sprinkled with crispy pancetta, crumbled smoky blue cheese and roasted romas.

Spatzle.

And Catalan Style fish soup. Catalan style I suppose because it had a creamy saffron paprika broth.

I liked: that they CHOSE how to order the arrival. Meaning, The Housemade sausage and bibb wedges came out 1st! This won a star in my book, because I can’t impress how much it annoys me when overly ambitious waitstaff come out juggling all your plates and plops them awkwardly onto a tiny quaint table, and you have to help them or you would just be equally if not more akward just watching them. So since food gets COLD and not terribly enjoyable in such circumstances, it makes so much sense to “shift” out plate orders. THANK YOU!

To serve the hearty sausage with the somewhat palate cleansing yet light and super poignant Bibb lettuce-bacony-toasted onion ranch-plate, makes sense to me. The sausage was fused with caraway and beer.  It wasn’t too greasy or dry like chicken sausage. The braised cabbage which accompanied the piggie was silky and mustard spiced.

I liked: that the second round of plates weren’t rushed out! That gave us a few moments to relish in what we just imbibed in and recharging our palates for the next, not rushedly cramming down food just for the sake of tasting.

The second round included the seafood soup. Which included the best chunks of saffron bathed salmon, plump shrimp, fleshy clams (not overcooked and not slimy), and meaty mussels. The broth was specked with the finest herbs and buttery smooth.

The Spatzle tasted as if it were fried in bacon fat and a hint of nutmeg broth, probably a little too rich for my blood, but who doesn’t love tasty fried potato dumplings alla Germans?

We were stuffed. we also had a couple German pilsners. We wanted to avoid looking at the bill as if it were from the doctor.

But we were pleasantly surprised. We escaped, with all that food and a beverage for less than 30 including tax and tip.

Thank you. You’re welcome.

sEATtle Restaurant week: POPPY.

For my birthday dinner this year it was a toss up between Joule in Wallingford or Poppy in Capital Hill. I went with Joule and kept Poppy on the back burner of my eating wishlist. Well, Seattle Eat Week was just the perfect non-birthday excuse to get into Poppy.  3 courses for $25. A pretty rich deal, considering Poppy specializes in 7-piece fusion full main “Thalis” which run $32 just on their own. With an appy and a dessert that could well run you a near $50 hole in your wallet.

There were a couple appetizer and Thali options to choose from.

I started with: Poached Oysters (on the half shell) with creamy sorrel sauce and bacon

I Thali’ed:

Lavender Duck Leg a top whipped potatoes sided with: pumpkin cardamom and green chile soup,  radicchio grilled fig and pumpkin seed salad, brussel sprouts with shallot rings, chard chantrelle and farro gratin, gingered burdock pickle, and a modest oval disk of nigella-poppy naan bread.

*please mind the mobile picture quality or lack there-of!

I dessert’ed:

Dark Chocolate Ice Cream with tiny tiny malt balls sprinkled on top served in a martini glass.

This sounds like a lot of food, but it was the perfect amount. I wont embellish much on each small dish as the flavors should speak for themselves, Pumpkin Cardamom and Green Chile Soup, those words should invoke memories of fresh cracked cardamom, kick-tart green chile and creamy savory smooth pumpkin squash. And I am so confident of Poppy and its culinary artistry that I hope you will take the flavors for their word and experience them for yourself.

I cannot emphasize how amazing subtle yet potently flavorful the oysters and its sorrell sauce swam on the palate. I cannot describe how tender, juicy and calming the lavender duck leg was with its perfectly crisped herbaceous skin was.  I cannot describe how full of complimentary character the chard chantrelle and farro gratin was, perfect bread crumbage and gruyere gratedge. Nor can I describe how the dark chocolate malted ball sundae (in the cutest little martini glass) reversed my life-long disgust and  towards anything malted or likewise maltballed.  That sundae reversed my angst towards maltness so much that I have (had) a stash of chocolate peanut butter maltballs in my sweets pantry.

Dear Poppy,

Despite your obvious contemp./modern plastic Ikea-esque tea-light ambience on the tip of Broadway, I applaud and thank you for your presence. Your choice of herbs and whole ingredients have dazzled my palate and inspired me ever so further. You also have convinced me that experimental, adventuresome yet nourishing eating on a budget that moved me to write this glowing reflection is attainable.

To all you readers, I highly encourage you to partake in this fabulous flavor melanged experience. With a friend, 2 friends, a sister or all of them,a brother, a mother, a date, hell you could even get jolly and invite the Real Change guy with you on the bill. just don’t let it go unwitnessed and unshared.

PAIR

Pair is a little nook in the almost Wedgewood, nearly underrated, neighborhood of Seattle.  It’s perched on a steepish hill with a tender view of a local cemetery.  The inside decor is nicely inviting, with a picnic table-like set-up and a cozy bar area where this dinner was nested.  Pair is trying to be the neighborhood date and foodie joint with an emphasis on a locally sourced, euro-inspired seasonal menu and strategically paired quality wines that the average person would never be able to pronounce.

The house white was an Italian Pinot Grigio and the red was a Montepulciano.  Eh, pretty basic.  I thought it was strange that the house wines were imports, and this joint is claiming to have a bleeding local heart.  I did eventually move up to a menu merlot/cab/syrah wine from Walla Walla that blew my socks off. Talk about delicious! Very fruity spicy and equipped with a thick body. We ordered a cheese plate along with our 3 small plates and the server asked if we wanted the cheese plate before or after the plates. And what a concept! Duh, right? Clean your palate (and surrogate your sweet tooth) with some yummy cheeses and red wine AFTER a ton of complex flavors.  

Sauteed Chard with sliced carrots, raisins and pine nuts.

Nill ingredients of which seem local. Ok, maybe the chard. But last time i checked pine nuts came from china and raisins probably from a box. Sorry im being nit-picky but if you’re gonna call yourself a locally sourced restaurant then make a little more sense. You could have used hazelnuts and cherries and ditched the carrots, actually it was like 2 pieces of sliced carrot that seemed way too robust to be from WA, as our growing season has been lame due to equally LAME temps.  The plate was OK. I could have made it better myself, by adding a lil pepper and cumin and maybe even truffle salt. For a whole lot less than 9 dollars. It was certainly anti-climatic for foodie expectations.

Manila Clams w/ Salumi Guanciale and large cannellini beans.

Ok, so Guanciale is pork cheek and Salumi is the brand that Pair sourced its Guanciale (aka THE Seattle salumeria). I thought this was going to be really unique since Guanciale has a very delicate yet porky smokey bacony melt in your mouth kind of feel. But there were like 3 pieces in the whole thing which seemed more like pancetta than guanciale and the clams were too chewy. The broth was pretty mediocre, it was as if some boxed chicken stock was poured over already boiled clams and then cooked some more. Maybe threw some sage in there to throw the eater off. The only redeeming quality were the beans. They were cooked perfectly and absorbed all the flavors of the Guanciale and Clam juices very nicely.  I liked making a little wrap of Guanciale a bean and a clam. When all nestled together, it made the dish worth while, left to their own devices: boring.

Potato Leek Gratin.  My favorite dish.

But you really can’t screw up a Gratin unless you really burn everything and even toast. Its potatoes baked with olive oil (sometimes butter) gruyere cheese and breadcrumbs, how is that not good? AND with Leeks? Delicious! But also the least seasonal and local of the bunch. Ok, maybe the potatoes were local.  Keyword: WERE,  from last season.  Nevertheless, a potato bake with heavy cream and cheese should never be a seasonally offered (advertised) plate in the summer, even if I am wearing my cable knit sweater at night here in the PNW. It was fantastic though, gruyere very creamy and gooey, breadcrumbs fried baked in the plate’s natural oils and buttery firm yet tender potatoes. NOT atkins friendly by any means.

The highlight of  the night was the 3 cheese plate. It came adorned with julienned dates with walnuts and a tiny tub of (i hope) local honey.

Le Bleu des Basques- A blue veined cows Basque cheese wedge.  It was pretty creamy, bluey, more sweet than spice. Firm and not crumbly. Cream indeed. Paired greatly when dipped with honey and crunched in a walnut.

Caprifeuille- This was a delightful almondy french goat chevre. Pretty firm, a lot of goat chevres crumble and seem too chalky to me, the firmness indicated to me good quality cheesemaking, with attention to moisture details. The cheese also didn’t have that gamey “barty” waft to it most goat cheese have, which also is a check plus for artisanship. I read in Edible Seattle that the gamey, they call “Barty”, aroma is actually pheromones produced by does in the presence of billy goats, a good cheese maker knows to separate the boys and girls for milking season.

Aragonès- A spanish washed rind cow/sheep milk hybrid. It was sooooo good, pretty firm and slicable witha nutty sweet cream sheepy finish.

Verdict: If you live in this neighborhood, you don’t have much choice for fine dining and as long as you don’t mind the view of the cemetery you got your self a descent dinner spot. I wouldn’t recommend coming to this place more than once if you are coming from cooler foodie friendly quarters of this emerald city. Its good that Wedgewood has a nook for good wines and cheeses (that are mostly French) and a good back-up of creative (so called local) small plates that you yourself can then go home and probably make better at home. In your very own, local kitchen.

Emmer and Rye.

Emmer and Rye, ahhhh. A few weeks back I was refused a dining experience due to lack of reservation. I did succeed in getting a table, and miraculously I lived through the icy spine splitting awkwardness of our waitress to tell about it.

Emmer and Eye is a seasonal celebration of the local goodness artful chefs and the Pacific Northwest have to offer, perched on the top of Queen Anne in a cozy 100yr old Victorian home.

Emmer is basically the ancient wheat grain. Like Farro. Which is Spelt. But grown in Washington. Rye is Rye.  Recipes change according to Season. We are now in Spring. So we ordered a bunny. Ill get to that in a sec.

Starters:

These “Farro Fries” basically looked like fish sticks but were made with a farro batter and lightly fried. A tad crunchy on the outside like a crisp fry but saltily buttered texture inside with beads of farro grain to give you some chewage. Then this yogurt sauce that came on top was slightly minty and garlicky. Not too garlicky. I really resent that adj. “garlicky”. But it kinda was.

Oysters. Think lemon spritz mini explosion washed down with a touch of olive oil.

Chunked slices of Pork belly over heirloom beans and Chicory Greens.  The Pork belly looked like slices of pure fat but had a surprisingly meaty punch. The fat was so sweet mesquity that I could swear these pigs grazed on hazelnuts. The texture almost reminded me of Bulgogi beef rib meat, you know the real fatty meaty ribs that melt in your mouth that makes you growl in guilt the morning after for eating 12 of them. The beans? Well we tried to figure out what put the “heirloom” in these beans because they just looked like a mix of pinto and black beans. They probably were but had a better fiber mouth feel. Anything with bacon is a winner. 5 bucks for this locally sourced seasonal happy plate. When i told my So. California based sister about this dish she questioned its seasonality for Fall.  Yep, thats the PNW for you, basically always Fall year round. But if bacon is a Fall food, i’m glad to be in the PNW.

We also got a cheese plate. a Black truffle brie like creme soft gooey cheese. A sharp cabot cheddar from Vermont. Which obviously was not local, and consequently my least favorite cheese, not sharp and a little too hard.  Then a semi hard scotch washed rind white almost cheddar cheese. Smelled like feet, tasted like scotchy nutty cheddery crumbly hard cheese. Yummmm. Then a baby boy blue cheese. Super almost really creamy yet firm, with just a streak of blue (hence the baby) which gave the surrounding a more fresh cream compliment to the aspiring gorgonzola. This plate came centered with an apple cherry conserve and house baked apricot studded whole grain bread. 8 dollars. Take that wolf cooker, Stowell!

These were just apps.

The 1st main: Half Chicken with morel cream, wilted greens and orzette potatoes. They were the happy chickens. They had to be, the skin was so oily and tender yet crispy and the meat moist and beaming with juicy happy flavors. The Morels were perfect, perfect touch of cream, perfect cookature, perfect foraged mushroom earth to compliment the greens and buttery golden tater slice.  I never thought of morels to be so yummy and meaty-like.

Then we ordered the bunny. Actually we ordered the braised rabbit over fresh nettle in-house made pappardelle pasta with carrots and thyme but when the waitress came out she said “here’s your bunny!” Talk about mortified! She said thats what they call it in the kitchen, and apparently thats what they called it on the bill.  It was my 1st time ever eating rabbit and I wasn’t grossed out, it was a very interesting reminder of game and chicken. Shredded and slightly smidgenly juicy. The pasta was interesting, never thought of eating nettle pasta but it tasted like a very grained herbaceous yet almost basilic pasta. Al dente.

DESSERTS! So our waitress was really akward, she maybe warmed up to us after 3 hours, meaning she smiled. is a smirk a smile? She had a real hard time looking at us and i’m pretty sure she cast a spell on us and our bunny. It wasn’t that she gave bad service, I don’t think she was even capable of utilizing any personality except awkward and plain-face stare at a wall while you order.  It was quite the hurdle to get our hands on the dessert menu as a result, but when we did, we let our taste buds play with salted caramel rocky road toasted marshmallow brownie and a mini apple galette with a golf ball of browned butter gelato. I wasn’t a huge fan of the apple tart thing, the crust was good and dense with butter, but the apples were kinda bland. But the brown butter gelato was some story. Flecks of vanilla bean and good burnt butter flavor. Full bodied for just butter and vanilla gelato. But the brownie!!! The caramel was so rich and salty (good) and sweet but tart and dark and of course tasted of butter! Ahhhman it was good! I licked the plate basically! And the hazelnuts were toasted and still super fresh and complemented the fudgey chocolate brownie. The toasted marshmallow was adorable. I spooned it with the brownie caramel and hazelnuts for the best explosion of sweet sour bitter and butter I can put in my memory. Yummy  sticky vanilla chewy goodness. Ahhhh.

So the verdict, with all that food (plus a leek nettle-mint hazelnut soup I left out) plus crisp white wine and a rye manhattan, our bill had us each pay out less than 25bucks. We did make happy hour, but still that was totally worth it and way better than How to Cook a Wolf. The atmosphere was less snooty, more homey, and despite our (new) awkward waitress, the people were pretty nice and unpretentious. I highly recommend this joint. Its some of the best food i’ve had in Seattle yet.