Posts Tagged ‘Seattle’
‘Tis the season of giving, and particularly, giving back. Unfortunately, hunger remains a pressing issue in Western Washington. Every day, far too many individuals and families don’t know where they’ll find their next meal. Luckily, Seattle is home to more than a few fantastic role models for the fight against hunger. One such leader is Chef Maxime Bilet, a member of the Intellectual Ventures team and co-author of the Modernist Cuisine book (available in March 2011). I had the chance to ask Maxime about his work with the Hunger Intervention Program and how modernist cooking fits in with fulfilling basic nutritional needs.
What does the Hunger Intervention Program do, and why is it important to Seattle?
The Hunger Intervention Program (HIP)is a local non-profit here in Seattle whose mission is to provide nutritious meals and basic cooking skills to the homeless and hungry. HIP’s new initiative is the Community Kitchen – an incredible initiative to help empower homeless and low income families to feed themselves by providing hands-on training in food preparation, safety, and nutrition education. They have recently begun using the community kitchen to reach out to mentally disabled patients.
Sure, you claim to avoid fast food chains and only shop at the farmers’ market. But the numbers tell another story. Data recently made available from data.mint.com shows where the people of Seattle are spending their food dollars. The data is based on the credit and debit transactions of Mint.com users in the greater Seattle area.
I had the recent pleasure of a visit to the newly-opened Sip at the Wine Bar & Restaurant in downtown Seattle. I’m typically cynical of places that 1) are chain restaurants, and 2) have both “wine bar” and “restaurant” in the title. However, I’m happy to report that the folks at Sip exceeded my expectations, in general.
The first defining feature of Sip is its location – directly across the street from the architecturally fascinating Seattle Public Library. And although the restaurant’s design isn’t quite as extreme (no curvy iridescent escalators), the wrap-around picture windows and dimly-lit ambiance take full advantage of the location’s urban scenery.
As you might imagine, the wine list is extensive, offering both local and international bottles. Bottles start at $25, glasses start at $7, and if you’re a fan of variety, you’ll be happy to know that all wines by the glass are also available by the half-glass. I chose to start off the meal with a gin cocktail in a burnt sugar-rimmed glass. It was a slightly sweet-and-sour, and a nice accompaniment for Sip’s salty and seared appetizers.
I enjoyed the tender and well-seasoned Vietnamese Caramel Beef ($12), but the standout of the starters was the Bacon & Eggs ($13, pictured above). The dish is served as a cube of braised pork belly with a soft-boiled and lightly fried duck egg. I thought this was a great interpretation of the classic combination – salty, sweet, crunchy and… porky. I also enjoyed the flavors of the pickled beet salad, particularly the crispy beet chips. Unfortunately, the salad was impossible to consume without spilling half on the tablecloth; for reference, 2” wide olive dishes don’t make good salad plates.
I was excited, as always, to see braised short ribs on the menu. The dish, $19, was described on the menu as “boneless ribs, parmesan ‘jo-jos,’ arugula salad, meyer lemon gremolata, parmigiano & red wine braising jus”. What the menu neglected to mention was that the short rib was spiced so heavily with what I assume to be cayenne pepper, that all other flavors were undetectable. That said, the parmesan fries weren’t bad, and the meat was tender. The Flat Iron “Chivitio” ($22, described well by blogger and friend Jay at Gastrolust) was a much more pleasant dish, flavored intensely with smoke and char, and topped with the fatty softness of a duck egg. If I kept duck eggs in my kitchen, I’d put them on everything, too.
I must say, though, that the best dish of the night was actually dessert – the Roasted Sugar Pie Pumpkin Cheesecake ($8). It was light and velvety, with the vivid flavor of roasted pumpkin. Well doe, chef Allison Jester.
All in all, the food at Sip exceeded my expectations, modest as they were. However, the menu prices thus far haven’t followed the budget-conscious trend set by some other Seattle joints. But, if you like to cap off your day of downtown shopping and public library book reading with a glass of wine and a steak, Sip at the Wine Bar & Restaurant is a fine choice.
Full Disclosure: I got free food, but that doesn’t pay for my opinion.
2009 has been a great year for food in Seattle, but with the new year just around the corner, I thought I’d share my guesses insight into what we’ll see in restaurants and home kitchens 2010. Some of these may be national trends, but as Pacific Northwesters, we tend to be the canaries in the coalmine, especially when discussing what we put in our bodies.
As always, there will be a balance of healthy, socially-conscious eating and perverse gluttony (see Bacon Explosion).
Seattle will go sous-vide crazy
The fancy restaurants have already been doing it for years (though, perhaps illegally). But in 2010, I predict that sous-vide preparations will start showing up on restaurant menus everywhere (like The Keg and McCormick & Schmick’s), not just at cutting-edge gastropubs. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, sous-vide describes a cooking method where food is vacu-sealed and heated very slowly (hours or even days) in temperature-controlled water baths. The method lets cooks achieve heavenly textures not achievable with an oven, stove or fry-o-lator. 2009 saw the release of the SousVide Supreme, the world’s first home-use water oven. But at $499, it only appeals to serious food geeks (even I don’t have one yet). I predict that 2010 will give us the “George Foreman Grill of sous-vide”, an afforable, mass-market water oven, complete with late night infomercial.
Homemade Pasta is the new Canvolution
There’s nothing new about homemade pasta. Nor is there anything new about canned foods. Both are oldschool, inexpensive, and very social ways of preparing food. 2009 gave rise to a huge wave of canning parties, covered under the umbrella movement of “Canvolution”. I predict a similar wave of ad-hoc food gatherings next year, and I think homemade pasta could be the recipe of choice. Making pasta – particularly rolling and cutting noodles – is a fun group activity. Plus, dried pasta lasts forever and makes for a great gift (just like canned goods). Stock up on Semolina flour – it’s gonna be a carb-tastic new year!
Sliders Out, Rillettes In
You know sliders are falling out of fashion when they appear on the menu at Jack-In-The-Box. Although the mini-burgers enjoyed their time in the spotlight at almost every restaurant in the city, it’s time for us to move on to the next “it” dish. My prediction: rillettes. Sure, they lack the mass appeal of a very small hamburger, but these spreadable potted meats are a total rustic treat. The first rillette I ever tasted was a creamy little pot of salmon at Thomas Keller’s Bouchon in New York. Let me tell you, it left an impression. Although pâté may be hopelessly off the mainstream, I think rillettes have a fighting chance.
Other Predictions, Hopes and Ramblings…
- Cupcakes are over. And so are the Pinkberry knockoffs. Please, let’s move on.
- Sustainable sushi will be the new norm. With more and more diners checking sustainable seafood watchlists at the dinner table, we can no longer gorge on unagi without social consequences. Bravo to chefs like Hajime at West Seattle’s Mashiko for leading the charge.
- Salts on the rise. Look for specialty salts to play a major role in restaurant menus. Oh, and regular table salt is so last decade. If it’s not Chardonnay-smoked, truffle-infused, or from an obscure seaport town in France, I’m not interested.
- We get it: bacon is delicious and makes for ironic kitsch. Let’s find a new punch line in 2010. How about blowfish?
- Seattle chefs embrace (or at least tinker with) molecular gastronomy. It may not be for everyone, but molecular gastronomy – sciencey food made through extremely geeky methods – is still turning heads around the country. There are a number of brave Seattle chefs are already having fun with science, but in a city with so many artists, I have to believe the best (and weirdest) is yet to come.
Sorry it’s been awhile since my last post, but I was off getting married to the love of my life, Rachel. The wedding was better than we ever dreamed it would be and we’ve spent the past nine days on our honeymoon drinking margaritas and soaking up the sun in Mexico. I’ll post a full write-up when we get more photos back from our photographer. I’d also like to give a big thanks to all of our vendors, every one of whom was amazing!
- The Sorrento Hotel, and Chef Matthew Mina at the Hunt Club
- J. Garner Photography
- Morphey’s Cakes
- Aisle of View planning services
- Forever Yours Music
And if you’re feeling particularly curious, our photographer has a few more shots up on his blog.
More to come soon…
Seattle is blessed with some of the most innovative, talented chefs on the planet, so I shouldn’t be surprised when I discover a gem like Table 219 in Capitol Hill. But I was surprised – surprised that there wasn’t a line out the door and a 1-month waiting list. If you picked up Table 219 and dropped it on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles, it would instantly be the “it” place for celebrity A-listers who are too elitist to have dinner at The Ivy. But thank God Table 219 is tucked away on an unassuming block in Capitol Hill instead of lost in a pissing contest of pretentiousness. For all the terrific dishes on the menu, there isn’t a single one over $15. And although some chefs would beat you over the head with the post-nutritionist-deconstructionist symbolism of a corndog (and charge you $29 for the privilege), Chef Jeffrey Wilson let’s his whimsical dishes speak for themselves.
Oh, and those three amazing corndogs, the best I’ve eaten in my adult life, were only $8.00.
Chef Wilson has a gift for playfully evoking the pavlovian response I have for nostalgic food. It’s not uncommon, these days, to see gourmet revamps of America’s (closest thing to) peasant food. [How many times have you seen sliders or a mac & cheese derivative on a swanky restaurant menu?] However, Chef Wilson’s talent is his ability to execute extraordinarily well on these dishes while preserving the familiar flavors and approachable presentations that made them “comfort food” in the first place.
I was hooked on Table 219 when I first read the phrase “duck confit nachos” ($9) on the menu. Granted, they were different than what I was expecting: I imagined a pile of yellow corn chips crowned with brown, glistening, oil-soaked shredded duck and an obligatory sprig of cilantro. However, the actual preparation was much more indulgent – a veritable cheese fondue of duck, topped with green onions and tomato.
Next up, and at the top of my list of inventiveness, was a smoked bone marrow butter. On the menu, it’s paired with a grilled hanger steak, but we ordered a side of toast just to try it out. Because the butter was served chilled, it lacked the unusual (and orgasmic) texture that I associate with roasted bone marrow, but still delivered plenty of umami.
Other table favorites were the richly-flavored mushroom and truffle oil mac ‘n’ cheese ($9), the perfectly crisp zucchini fries parmesan ($6) and the succulent bison burger with sweet potato fries ($12). I could go on, but let’s return for a moment to the corndogs. They were perfectly fried in a thick, sweet corn batter, and served hot. Now, I’m a sucker for most food-on-a-stick, but the combination of my excitement of eating a corndog for dinner and the fact that they were actually fantastic left a long-lasting smile on my face. Almost as big a smile as when our party of four finished gorging ourselves on 2 cocktails, 9 shared plates, 2 bottles of wine (Tuesdays are 1/2 price bottles) and 2 desserts, and our bill was only $35 per person. Try pulling that off in LA!
I’m a big fan of this kind of eating, and I’ll be back soon.
I met Kurt Beecher (you know him as the founder of Beecher’s Cheese) one hot afternoon amid a cluster of food bloggers, all eager to storm an armored truck shaped like a giant pig, parked at the corner of 2nd and Pike. Maximus Minimus, the much anticipated pulled-pork sandwich truck, had opened the day before to mild fanfare, but it was about to be put through its paces and make some unpaid bloggers very happy in the process.
We met at Beecher’s in Pike Place late in the afternoon for a whirlwind tour of the factory. In reality, we walked into the cheese making room in groups of five, stood in one spot and listened to the cheese maker give a well-rehearsed spiel about curds and whey. I’m convinced this “tour” was a thinly veiled excuse to get us in hairnets again, but the air conditioned room was a nice respite from the melting heat outside. Plus, a few cold, moist curd samples made an excellent hold-over snack.
After learning all there is to know about cheese making in 3.5 minutes, we gathered around Kurt as he unromantically recanted how Seattle’s best-known cheese came to be. Kurt is an unassuming, unpretentious and energetic guy – like a soccer dad, or a wilderness park guide – and you wouldn’t know he was an artisanal food mogul just by looking at him (read: no whisk tattoos or chef’s jacket). But he has built perhaps the most recognized and respected brands in Seattle, and Maximus Minimus, his brainchild born from a popular staff meal at Bennett’s, was poised to be a very clever piece of horizontal integration.
The concept is simple: a big, iron-clad truck shaped like a pig that serves 2 varieties of everything – maximus for spicy and minimus for sweet. Throw in some cold drinks, coleslaw, chips, and a vegetarian option so the carrot-huggers don’t file an injunction against public pork vending, and you’ve got great street food.
Kurt scurried us two blocks up to the unmistakable truck which sat heavily on the pavement. By the time I arrived, the line of bloggers was already 20-deep, but moving steadily. Over the din of the truck’s galley kitchen I could overhear two employees taking orders at the front of the line, describing and patiently re-describing the choice between maximus-spicy and minimus-sweet to the giddy pseudo-journalists who were all lucky enough to be getting served after business hours.
When I got to the front, I opted for the minimus since I’m not much of a heat guy. While I waited eagerly for my cardboard tray of food to emerge from the truck’s small window, I observed passers-by, one after another, stop and ask what the truck was. I assume the were led to this corner by the caramel smell of braised pork wafting down the city blocks. But when they arrived, they weren’t quite sure what to make of the big metal hog that looked like it came from another planet… or Freemont. In stunned bewilderment they gathered, standing slack-jawed for a moment, then continuing on, feigning that this was really something they see every day.
When my food emerged, it looked great. In fact, it looked just as I expected, with the exception of the cheese. Given that this was a Beecher’s venture, I assumed that my soft pork sandwich would be oozing with gooey cheese, like an Arby’s melt but made from actual animals instead of recycled volleyballs. The only hint of cheese was a small sprinkling of white flakes, unmelted by the heat of the pork, and unnoticeable in any given bite. Still, the sandwich was good – not orgasmic, tongue-tingling, I’ll-switch-religions-for-this good, but pretty solid. The chips and slaw were a nice touch as well, though the two-handed tray made eating and drinking on the street a little cumbersome.
The drinks were self-serve from two discreet taps sticking out the side of the truck. I didn’t get to try the ginger lemonade, but the hibiscus nectar was unbelievable. It had a strong, rich, floral flavor which I anticipated the moment I saw the iridescent magenta tea start pouring into my cup. Had I been without a straw, I’m pretty sure it would have left a KoolAid-esque mustache above my upper lip. The nectar was a great compliment to the salty tang of the sandwich, and would likely be just the right soothing antidote to the piquant maximus. I guess I’ll have to go back for more.
Even though I won’t be making Maximus Minimus my new official barbecue Mecca, I’m still very glad for its arrival. With the weight of the world on everyone’s shoulders these days, it’s nice to find a little levity during lunch hour. And anyone who serves barbecued pork out of a hogified AirStream clearly cannot take himself that seriously. I hope that street food, and indeed the trailer concept, continues to take hold in Seattle. In high school, the closest thing we had to a cafeteria was the roach coach parked on the sidewalk during recess and lunch to peddle quesadillas and Horchata (I grew up in LA). You knew it arrived by the distant sound of La Cucaracha and the smell of leftover animal bits being mangled into a burrito. Even so, there is a special place in my heart reserved for 4-wheeled food. May I cast my vote now for a bubble tea, salumi and wood-fired pizza van somewhere on the Microsoft campus? Go trucks, go!
Full disclosure: I got free food, but that doesn’t pay for my opinion.
Tonight, I had the pleasure of attending the Rising Stars Review, a gala event that honors Seattle’s top emerging talent. First, I want to give a very sincere congratulations to all of the award winners. Each chef on stage makes me proud to be a Seattleite and live in a city so dedicated to creative, responsible, progressive food. The evening was a delightful way to experience a taste (literally) of what each of these chefs has to offer. But it was more than just the impeccable dishes (and top-notch wine) that made this event so memorable – it was the coming together of chefs, journalists, foodies, aspiring foodies and aficionados, all united by a common admiration for the passion and integrity with which chefs pursue the advancement of cuisine in our humble little town.
I hope to see this event grace Seattle again in the very near future. Congratulations to all of the winning chefs. Now, time to get out my calendar and start making reservations!
- Chef Mark Fuller of Spring Hill,
- Chef Stuart Lane of Cafe Juanita
- Chef Vuong Loc of Portage
- Chefs Brian McCracken and Dana Tough of Spur
- Chef Colin Patterson of Sutra
- Chef Jason Wilson of Crush
- Hotel Chef Adam Stevenson of Earth & Ocean at W Seattle
- Pastry Chef Dana Cree of Poppy
- Pastry Chef Matt Kelley of Rover’s
- Mixologist Jim Romdall of Vessel
- Sommelier Nelson Daquip of Canlis
- Restaurateur Ethan Stowell of Union, Tavolata, How to Cook a Wolf
- Concept Award Chefs Joshua Henderson and Danny Sizemore of Skillet Street Food
- Sustainability Award Chef Maria Hines of Tilth
Usually when I threaten to order half the menu at a restaurant, I’m joking. But at Lark, I was quite serious. Located on an easy-to-miss block of Capitol Hill, this gem specializes in intricate, small plates with bold flavors and surprising combinations. For example, the roasted eel with saba and new potato salad ($12, pictured above, left) paired a predictably sweet and sticky eel fillet with a most unlikely and delicate (you guessed it) potato salad. This was one of my favorite dishes – my only regret was sharing it with three other people.
Lark’s menu is designed for family-style ordering, but with more than 2 people at your table, each plate portions out to an amuse-bouche or so. As a result, we nearly ended up ordering most of the menu! Every dish was delectable and I appreciated the variety of our dinner, but I couldn’t help feeling unsatiated. I respect the “small bites” philosophy and I enjoy that manner of eating, but with flavors so compelling, there was a discord between my stomach and my wallet.
Even so, I would recommend Lark for foodies and adventurous eaters. Of particular note were the Carpaccio of Yellowtail with preserved lemons and green olives ($15, pictured top right), the Crispy Liberty Farm duck leg with watercress and pomegranate salad ($11, pictured middle right), and the Valrhona chocolate hazelnut mousse with cocoa ladyfingers and candied hazelnut ($8, pictured bottom right). You may want to consider ordering two of each!
I had the recent privilege of attending a “Farmhouse Dinner,” a sort of underground dinner club hosted by a Seattle-area farmer and prepared by a local chef. Underground dinner clubs are neither new nor rare in Seattle, but I will remember (and rave about) this meal until I’m old and senile.
Usually terms like locally grown, organic, hormone-free, hell, even fresh have a distant, intangible relationship with the foods we normally eat. When I stand in front of a pile of organic grapes at Whole Foods, I’m not necessarily moved by the extra care and attention paid to the grapes in order to earn that badge of superiority. But, when you eat a meal knowing that all of its components were grown, raised, picked or slaughtered within a triangle bell’s ring from the dining room… there is a tangible relationship.
Anyone could, presumably, go to the farmer’s market and grab a dinner’s worth of locally grown ingredients and invite some guests over – I’d even recommend it. But that is child’s play compared to the dinners served at the farm. Literally everything except salt, pepper, flour, coffee beans and wine came directly from the farm. Everything. That includes butter, cheese, pancetta, pickles, chilies, and of course all the meat and vegetables you can shake a fork at. And if you’ve ever doubted that freshness makes a difference, I hope you get an invitation.
We ate 10 or so courses, beginning with thin crust, wood oven fired pizzas eaten casually with a glass of wine as the evening’s guests arrived. We moved to the table to enjoy a divine beef broth and pea soup. Next we tasted thinly-shaved pigs heart with pickled shallots, braised ox tail, tomato jam, fresh pickles, and an assortment of homemade cheeses. Then there were several vegetable courses: the freshest, most vibrant carrots I’ve ever seen, a slaw of brussels sprouts and roasted peppers, and a superb roasted squash. The main courses (yes, there were multiple) included handmade pasta with braised lamb shoulder and what I declare to be the best roast beef I’ve ever tasted. I guess it helps when the guy cooking the beef knew the cow personally.
So, what’s the message here, that we should slaughter our own cows and only eat carrots that we’ve personally removed from the ground? Of course not. For most of us, its infeasible – both economically, and practically. However, if you have the opportunity to experience the staggering impact of really fresh ingredients in a place where you are one degree of freedom away from the person who grew your food, don’t let it pass you by. I guarantee it will be an meal to remember!
Fran’s, the beloved, family-owned chocolate shop has opened their third location just below the Four Season’s hotel in downtown Seattle. The new store, situated directly across the street from the Seattle Art Museum, hopes to attract some of the area’s foot traffic. Chocolate, after all, is not always a premeditated purchase.
I had a chance to chat with Fran about the store and the Seattle chocolate business in general. It’s easy to tell why Fran’s customers adore her – now a grandmother, Fran exudes such warmth that, just for a minute, I forgot she wasn’t my grandmother! For the past 26 years, she has been pursuing her passion for perfection, a theme that is especially prevalent in Seattle artisans. The business is run by her daughter (CEO) and her son (Chocolatier), who was recently invited by the Valrhona company to make his own blend of chocolate for the store.
The first thing you’ll notice when you enter the new Seattle location is an absolutely giant pointillist portrait hanging on the wall. The subject is Fran’s granddaughter, but it is the medium of this image that is fascinating. The picture is actually a life-size photograph of a collection of chocolate truffles, ranging from dark to white. Mmmm, chocolate pixels… That’s good geek food!
Fran’s Chocolates
1325 1st Avenue at Union Street
Seattle, WA 98101
www.franschocolates.com
Have you ever walked into a place and immediately felt like you’d found what you’ve always been looking for? That’s how I feel about Bricco della Regina Anna (or “Bricco” for short). Bricco is a restaurant and wine bar located on the main drag of upper Queen Anne, on a sleepy block that’s also home to Betty, Chocopolis, and the boarded-up shell of the former Queen Anne hardware store. The best thing about this location? I can walk to it! But don’t let that color my review – being within my promenade-radius is not a requirement for a great eatery.
A freestanding ledge loosely segregates Bricco’s dining room between dinner guests and passers-by who have stopped in for a glass of wine. The latter group is quite fortunate: the wine list, carefully selected by Wine Director Andrew Bresnik, is formidable. This isn’t surprising, given that the back wall of the dining room is a window to their walk-in wine cellar. But if you don’t know your Semillon from your Chardonnay, don’t fret. The wait staff is not only helpful and knowledgeable, but non-judgmental – if you can swallow your ego long enough to ask for a recommendation, you won’t be disappointed.
It’s more than just the wine that keeps me coming back to Bricco, though. For starters, the first page of their menu lists only cheese and salumi. In my opinion, this should have been the 11th commandment. The rest of the menu is composed of frequently-changing, à la carte salads, panini and entreés ($4 to approx. $18). Though the menu is small, everything is exquisitely executed. Chef and owner Kevin Erickson has hit a bulls eye with his balance of traditional and inventive bistro fare. And most of the dishes are so rich and beautifully presented that I feel nether guilty nor hungry when the meal is over. A few of my personal favorites: smoked trout salad with roasted beets and crème fraîche ($12), smoked salmon bruschetta ($4), and lamb sliders (pictured bottom left).
I’d recommend leaving room for dessert, too. Bricco’s roasted pears with huckleberry honey, aged balsamic vinegar and mascarpone is heavenly. Throw in a glass of port, and you’ve just enjoyed the kind of leisurely decompression that’s normally reserved for European poets.
Contrary to rumors that the restaurant was up for sale, the folks behind Bricco are actually expanding its horizons. Starting soon, Bricco will feature a full alcohol bar, complete with the sophisticated libations Seattleites have come to expect from expert mixologists. The owners are also opening Moshi Moshi Sushi (name unconfirmed) in Ballard. If they manage to create the same restaurant charisma as they’ve done with Bricco, I’ll be first in line, chopsticks in hand!
[photo (clockwise from upper left): cheese and salumi platter, beef tenderloin, lamb sliders, Nutella panini]
Imagine, if you will, an art museum restaurant. Make the image in your head very vivid, very detailed. In fact, close your eyes and picture this restaurant… (OK, open your eyes now so you can keep reading.) Now, imagine the sterile, lifeless walls of that restaurant covered with vibrant Seattle artwork. Those heat lamps you’re picturing in the kitchen? Replace them with pans of slowly roasting, locally-raised pork shoulders. The cafeteria-inspired, cavernous dining room? Swap it for about an upscale, inviting decor with a first-class bar and a wall full of Pacific Northwest wine. Now you’re just barely starting to get the picture of TASTE, the Seattle Art Museum’s bold, revitalized restaurant.
On a recent visit to TASTE, I was very impressed with not only the atmosphere and the quality of the food, but also the karmic value of my dinner. In the last two years, TASTE has managed to source 69% of its ingredients from local farmers, infusing over $1M back into family-owned farms. Particularly relevant to today’s economy, TASTE’s dedication to supporting small and local farms is commendable.
I had the recent pleasure of dining at Crémant, a captivating, authentic French bistro in Madrona.
Barring unforeseen circumstances, I plan to eat my last meal on Earth in a French bistro. To me, the rich decadence of traditional bistro fare is a reminder that you’re alive. Though most cardiologists agree that joie de vivre and fois gras become mutually exclusive after a few consecutive evenings, the French still manage to outlive us by 5-10 years, n’est pas?
Given my vigor for all dishes French, my recent visit to Crémant hit the spot. In a day and age when Americans are so insecure of their own culture that they’ll only eat “Freedom Fries”, my faith in humanity is restored when witnessing chef/owner Scott Emerick’s faithful execution of the most unabashedly French dishes that have existed since Louis XIV. For example, the Foie Gras Salade Royal ($14, pictured above)is an increasing rarity among restaurants and gourmet food shops, but its inclusion on the menu signals a steadfast allegiance to everything good about French cuisine. Furthermore, this particular foie gras had a noticeably fresh flavor and texture that paired well with the sweet crunch of the pistachios and green beans.
My personal favorite dish was the Os à Moelle Rôti ($12, pictured above), three roasted marrow bones served with a pile of salt and a small spoon. Again, I commend the chef for his inclusion of this staple. I would gladly return for lunch and order several more plates.
Unfortunately, there were a few negatives to the meal as well. Besides the foie gras and marrow bones, which were plated with generous pinch of sel gris, there was a prevailing undersaltedness to many of the dishes, including the pork rillette, salt cod and potato puree, and braised pork shoulder. And, although the wine list at Crémant is fine enough to make an Alsatian blush (little wine humor), my glass of red was served about 10° too cold, which is a shame when your wine list includes $140 Burgundies. If these critiques seem picky, that’s because they are. There is a clear attention to detail and an adherence to the French culinary attitude of perfection at Crémant, so these small, correctable mistakes stood out even more.
I will gladly return to Crémant, hopefully before the eve of my death. I wonder if they’ll accept my prescription for bone marrow?
If you haven’t heard the term “umami” before, I recommend making a reservation at Capitol Hill’s Boom Noodle. Umami is a Japanese word that describes the fifth taste sensation (the others are salty, sour, bitter and Dopey), usually associated with Asian flavors. Like charisma, umami is hard to describe, but you’ll know it when you see it – or in this case, taste it.
Take for example, the Sizzling Toban Beef ($8.50 on the small plates menu, pictured above). I was very impressed with the depth of flavors that emerged from this simple preparation. Had the plate not been hot enough to fry an egg, I probably would have licked it clean.
The main course dishes were also quite enjoyable. I was pleased with my Cha Su Pork Fried Rice ($10.50) and pleasantly surprised by the generous portions of both the rice and soup entrees. If you’re an impatient eater, you may want to bring a fork – the chopsticks-only approach to rice eating is an acquired skill, and requires persistence.
However, it is the atmosphere, more than the cuisine, that defines Boom Noodle’s identity among Seattle’s Americ-Asian eateries. In the most pierced and inked corridor of Capitol Hill, the restaurant stands out as clean and precise, like a Japanese IKEA with good food. The conspicuous arrangement of tables and communal bar top strikes me as un-accidental: people are here to be seen. And what a scene it is. The whole place is loud and energetic, with Capitol Hill’s walking works of urban art studding the sparse decor. If you’re looking for a hole in the wall, you’ve come to the wrong place. But, if you’re looking for a great modern import of Japan’s richest flavors in a lively setting, I’d highly recommend Boom Noodle.
photo credit: Boom Noodle
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