Artisanal Brasserie

A few weekends back, I went to Artisanal Brasserie at the Bravern, Bellevue’s new (over the top) luxury shopping complex. Some friends of my boyfriend invited us out for a friends and family opening type thing, and we had a blast. The space itself is huge but charming, with tile floors, large mirrors and crimson coloring. It's like a big version of Bastille in Ballard.

Our server encouraged us to try pretty much everything on the menu so the kitchen could get the practice. So we obliged, ordering and eating a ridiculous amount of food. We started with cheese tempura as an amuse and moved on to a round of hors d’ourves—perfectly plump oysters on the half shell and a mini mason jar of foie with apricot chutney. Then not one, not two, but three bowls of mussels (provencal, curry and espagnol). The espagnol were my favorite. Then came grilled octopus with fingerling potatoes and paprika followed by a mesclun salad with a tasty little herb vinaigrette.

Entrees came next. We all got one and passed to the left every few bites. I started with the 7 hour lamb shank, which was ridiculously good, if not for the meat itself for the parmesan polenta underneath it. We also got a nice piece of ling cod that came with clams and chorizo (always a plus), a plate of hangar steak frites and diver scallops with a blood orange sauce. The only thing I didn’t go back for another bite of was the scallops because I couldn’t take the too sweet sauce.

And then came dessert. We didn’t choose dessert; they just brought our table an assortment. I should be clear that I don’t eat a lot of dessert, so when I do I tend to think everything is beyond delicious. Most definitely the case in this situation. We again got four plates and passed every few bites. My first bite was an apple tarte tartin with a cheddar crust and crème fraiche. I didn’t want to give it up. But then I looked at the pecan praline cheesecake coming my way and conceded. Same case there. I couldn’t let it go. Until I smelled the fried dough from the beignets with huckleberry sauce next to me and tasted the custard like filling. Le sigh. My last bite was a chocolate mousse with hazelnut and coffee crunch. Good for sure, but the tarte and cheesecake were the clear winners. I’m a sucker for cheese.

The place and service had a few kinks, but the staff fully knew it and the place wasn’t even really open yet (sure a lot of it’s worked itself out by now), so it actually made it a bit more of an experience for me personally. That and when famed chef Terrence Brennan stopped at our table while making his rounds outside of the kitchen. He asked the obligatory how is everything question, we bid him the standard congrats and then we asked what he thought of the ingredients here. I appreciated his honesty when he let on he’s less than impressed with the seafood here. Struck me as odd given I always thought the PacNW was at least somewhat known for seafood (and the sea things we had that night were really good), but evs.

All that coupled with a smile and nod from Thierry Rautureau (the chef in the hat from Rover’s) on our way out made the night. I’ll be back for the number of wines they serve by the glass, the cheese and charcuterie selection that weren’t available before opening and another long, lingering dance with that tarte.

What's Worth It

A little over a year ago, I realized I was growing up. I don’t think a specific moment sparked it. Hitting twenty-some-odd years-old with a solid job, student debt and complete financial independence should have done that years ago. But it was like all of a sudden I was looking at how I was spending my time more judiciously and had somehow acquired a better sense for the things that really, truly make me happy. I was over wasting precious free time at lackluster, cheesy bars and unenthused about shelling out for random shirts that were worn once before being shoved in an already overcrowded closet. Ad hoc Sephora shopping sprees left me with nothing but drawers full of unused lotions, potions and serums. And I found myself frustrated when my beloved evenings and weekends came and went with nothing to show but a handful of receipts for nothing exciting. No clue what did it, but I realized the things most worth it for me most often involve a good meal and fun people.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love a beautiful bag, peruse fun baubles and covet sky-high heels as much as the next girl. I love going out for random nights with the girls and will throw down my hard-earned cash for a pair of perfect fitting jeans, a dress I can accessorize up or down and shoes that have that special something. I’d be fibbing if I said I didn’t love shopping, and my friends and family would laugh in my face if I tried. But, I’ve found I have more fun breaking in any given purchase over a fun, memorable outing than I do taking hold of a pretty shopping bag. (Don’t we all want somewhere fabulous to flaunt a fun new buy?) I don’t mind and actually like opening my wallet for experiences that leave me feeling full and content in more ways than one. Tastes and conversation so good that I know I will and need to remember them. Occasions where I've giggled over potluck dishes with some of my nearest and dearest (many of whom just happen to know their way around a kitchen). Times when I've tried new things like crickets at local haunts in Puerto Vallarta (yep, they’re crunchy). Four hour, multicourse Gypsy dinners with complete but interesting strangers. And trips where I've laughed off incredibly lengthy waits like the one at Vij’s in B.C. because the curry and conversation were just that good.

Those are the kinds of things that made me want to start this itty bitty blog. I wanted a place to log and recount all of the tastes, dishes and details that made them so memorable. A spot to spread the word about the spaces, places and things worth trying. So here we are. Cheers.