Perspective

Seattle Times' Nancy Leson's post from this morning caught my eye. Quickly sifting through some RSS feeds after a long day, I paused and took my time with this one. The headline pulled me in, and I got fully caught up in a short but moving story about how she kind of blew off a friend of hers who stopped by with a restaurant tip and story of his own about cooking his friend's last meal. (A friend of a friend of Leson's, to break it down more succintly.)

And then I got completely immersed in the New York Times' piece on Thomas Keller (of the infamous French Laundry as well as Per Se and more) she referenced. It paints a picture of how Keller reconnected with his dad after decades apart and ended up cooking him his final, favorite meal just a few years later. I read this bit, referring to Keller's forthcoming "Ad Hoc at Home" cookbook, a few times: "He reminds readers that life is better when you eat together with family and friends."

And then I took it all as my healthy dose of perspective for the day. Both are worth a read when you can make the time.

Delancey is Delovely

Mid last week I found a pocket of Ballard I never knew existed. Just off NW 70th there's about a block and a half of containing a couple of quaint little shops, a yoga studio, a bar and two restaurants. One of those restaurants is Delancey--the wood-fire pizza spot owned by Brandon Pettit (formerly of Boat Street) and Molly Wizenberg (of much loved food blog, Orangette). I've been following Orangette for the past couple of years and love how Wizenberg's posts read like stories that end with a recipe, detailing how food and her everyday life intermix along the way. I've also been making my way through her book, A Homemade Life, and it reads very much the same.

So I was psyched when this place opened, super excited at the idea of possibly seeing Molly and her husband, who she met via an e-mail about a cake post (adorable), in action. I finally went last Wednesday with a few girlfriends--two old and one new--and spent a couple of hours taking in and loving the space while we talked about our weeks so far, hashed out weekend plans and contemplated Halloween costumes (still not sure). It was a full, lively house, and we were surrounded by tables of other girls gabbing away and couples that looked like they were enjoying date night.

It's a little spot (which means a wait--ours ran around 45 minutes), with what looked like personal artwork/photographs against white walls and simple votives on each wooden table. It was easygoing and felt comfortable.

We started with a salad of baby lettuces with radishes, Grana (like Parmesan) and some kind of vinaigrette. (Yes, my love for minimalist salads continues.) We ordered three pizzas to share so we could try more (too much for one sitting, but we all took two slices for the road). One was topped with prosciutto, tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella and the Grana. Another came with mushrooms (Porcini or Chanterelle, I think), mozzarella and fennel sausage. And then the Padron, which was delicious with tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, aged mozzarella, Grana and Padron chiles. All of the pizzas have a tiny bit of char to the crust from the wood fire that cooks it. I like that. The Padron was the best of the trio for me. The chiles are basically whole, seeds and all, so it's pretty spicy. But delicious mixed with all that cheese and chewy crust.

We didn't get dessert, which I really, really regret. Wizenberg makes them in house and so many of her recipes involve sweet treats that I'm pretty sure forgoing was a severe mistake. I want to get into the plum crumble when I go back. Soon.

Seattle Met's Top 10

Seattle Metropolitan's October issues includes its Best Restaurants feature. I liked Kathryn Robinson's intro, detailing how hard it was to pick the top 10 and how lucky we are to have so much to choose from in Seattle. And how they culled the list based on service, soul, beauty in plates and places and using and transforming raw ingredients into something that tastes really, really good. Here's their top ten (in no specific order):

• Serious Pie
• Canlis
• Boat Street Cafe
• Crush
• Cafe Juanita
• Cascina Spinasse
• Poppy
• Rover's
• Spring Hill
• Shiro's

I've only been to six of the 10, so I can't really say which should come first, but I could make a pretty good case for Crush and Rover's. I'm guessing Canlis would be the other strong contender. I need to invent an occasion to go; it's still on the lengthy need-to-try list along with Boat Street, Cafe Juanita, Spring Hill and a whole bunch of others.

The best part of the spread for me though is the "30 Seattle Restaurant Experiences You Must Have Before You Die" piece. It explains what makes everything from dinner at the Corson Building (also on the list) to a burger and fries in the parking lot of Dick's worth it. Love it.

Notably absent from the whole thing? Ethan Stowell. He's got four places, and I'm surprised at least one didn't get some kind of mention, even if not in the top ten. He's able to make a few simple ingredients taste big, and I'm a huge fan of the How to Cook a Wolf space. It's cozy and warm and feels special.

What other local places should have gotten a nod?

Sibling Adventures in Beantown—Part Three: Neptune Oyster

Toro was one of two places on my must-do list in Boston. The other was Neptune Oyster, found via a random restaurant search and verified as worthy by my darling sister. We’d run out of nights for special dinners so made it a special lunch spot instead. Best call ever.

First, I’m a big fan of oysters. Raw ones. On the half shell. I usually eat them with some kind of mignonette but love when they’re good and fresh enough to hold their own with nothing but lemon and maybe a wee bit of horseradish. We got both, only the lemon and horseradish came by way of a surprisingly good cocktail sauce and paired perfectly with the three small local varieties we tried.

We ordered too much and decided it was OK because it was our last meal of the trip. I knew going in that aside from the oysters, I wanted to try Neptune’s yellowtail sashimi. It was served with a drizzle of good olive oil, Thai chile oil and sprinkled with cracked coriander and pepper. Spicy and delicious.

I decided I also had to have the clam chowder. I felt a tad guilty for ordering after a long weekend of indulgence, but then the bartender explained that they made each bowl fresh and that it wasn’t ladled in from a big, sitting pot. And for some reason that made me feel better about it. Like it was unique or something. And it was. Unexpectedly light (or as light as clam chowder can be), it was silky with texture from celery and even a bit from the clam. So, so good.

And then (since it was again our last meal in Boston) we had to get a lobster roll. My boyfriend ordered it, so I felt a little less guilt than I did with the chowder. Plus Neptune apparently has one of Boston’s best lobster rolls. How could be pass that up?

We couldn’t.

It was my first Lobster roll. My first bite of warm baguette with tender lobster meat and warm, melted butter. Oh. My. Word. It was rich and amazing, especially when chased with a cold glass of rose.

I was glad we split it three ways, because otherwise I wouldn’t have had room in my belly for the perfect little salad my sister ordered. After Boston I’ve decided simple salads are best. Simple as it should be, as my beloved Tristan Prettyman would put it. This one came with tuna ribbons (which was just really thin slices of sashimi) served over green beans, olives, capers and hardboiled egg with a potato aioli. I could only fit a couple of bites but that’s really all I needed to fall in love.

I fell in love with the whole place actually—the food, the wine, the girl shucking oysters in front of the window—all of it. It was a busy, loud Monday lunch crowd consisting of what seemed to be a mix of friends, families and solo diners. We sat at the bar, which I like to do in general but especially enjoyed in this case.

Everyone just seemed happy. Everyone was laughing. Everyone was smiling. Even the solo woman next to us who was dining solo over what I think was a working lunch. She was just sitting there making notes on a legal pad, nonchalantly smiling and glancing at her Blackberry every so often in between sips of a healthy-sized glass of red. I didn’t know this woman, but I loved her. And and she made me love everything going on around me.

She made me think I could sit there for hours. I would have had a few more oysters and a few more bites of the salad (which I’m going to attempt to recreate). I would have savored more of the conversation with my sister and happily listened to her elaborate on her and her husband’s hopes to spend time in New York after she graduates (from art school—she’s so hip it kills me), how they’d love to try London from there, spend time in Asia after that. I could have spent hours there sipping another glass of wine, talking about things that do or could make us happy. It was all so perfect—the perfect little place that served as the perfect backdrop for the perfect end to a perfect trip.

Thanks much, Boston. I’ll be back.

Sibling Adventures in Beantown—Part Two: Bravo, Toro

My last night in Boston, I forced my sister and her husband back to the South End. I’d read about Toro, a little tapas place there, and it was one of two places I put on my must do list for the weekend. So glad I insisted. It was a decent wait, but we killed the time over a cocktail at Stella a few blocks down, a little neighborhood bistro where I would most definitely claim a regular seat at the bar if I lived in the ‘hood. My sister and I took our time over a Fresca (me) and Bellini (her) while the boys went back to claim our table. By the time we sat down, they had our first round of plates on the way and we made our way through a little feast:

• Gambas al Ajillo (grilled shrimp)


• Maíz Asado con Alioli y Queso Cotija (grilled corn with aioli and cheese)


• Patatas Bravas (potatoes with alioli and spicy tomato sauce)


• Coliflor a la Plancha (basically just grilled cauliflower, but crunchy and superbly seasoned


• Tortilla Espanola (egg, potato and onion omelet with aioli—my boyfriend swears this dish executed well is a sign of a good tapas place)


• Escalivada Catalana (roasted eggplant, onions, peppers, and tomatoes with sherry vinegar


• Mussels with chorizo (enough said)


• Pan con Tomate (toasted bread rubbed with tomato, garlic, Spanish olive oil and sea salt


• Churros with dark chocolate dipping sauce (yes we apparently still had room for dessert)
  

Everything was incredibly tasty. Except the eggplant which we ordered for my sister, who’s a vegetarian, and I think really wanted to like the last mushy dish but couldn’t.

But the two standouts were the shrimp and the corn. The shrimp came in a creamy saffron sauce. I wanted to drink that sauce. I think I took half of it as my own and probably dipped about a quarter of a loaf of ciabatta in the remainder when all the shrimp was gone. And the corn is apparently a house specialty. It was served on the cob with a little char. Drenched in an aioli and then sprinkled with peppers and cheese. Aioli and cheese on corn? Um, yes please. I squeezed a wedge of lime on mine to help cut the richness and didn’t even care that I was licking my fingers in public. I washed the whole meal down with a glass of sparkling rose….utter ambrosia.

The space itself was dimly lit, with chalkboard menus, walls of wine and a fun, good looking crowd. It was fairly affordable, and I begged my sister and her husband to make it part of their regular rotation so I can sleep at night knowing that saffron sauce isn’t going to waste.

Sibling Adventures in Beantown—Part One: Dueling Brothers

I spent last weekend in Boston visiting my darling little sister and her husband. As an added bonus, my little brother flew in from El Paso, and we used the four plus days to celebrate their birthday (they’re twins) and have a mini family reunion of sorts.

It was my first time in Boston. I loved it. Traipsing down the cobblestone streets in the North End, window shopping the walk-ups on Newbury Street, listening to my little sister explain what she likes about her city as we meandered through the public gardens, walking around Cambridge… I adored every second and sight. And it’s a good thing that all happened on foot, because to say we indulged at meal time would be an understatement.

I almost don’t know where to start. I think our most special night was the one we spent actually celebrating the twins’ birthday in the South End at a spot called Sibling Rivalry. My sister mentioned the place and the concept behind it to me when she first moved to Boston a few years back. The chefs are brothers David and Bob Kinkead, and they each have their own menu, one a tad more classical and the other a bit more modern. The menus are presented side by side, and you can either order from one exclusively or mix and match. A la carte or pre-fixe. Cool idea, and it was a fun choice for a group of siblings who see each other but once a year.

We jumped from brother to brother because I couldn’t limit myself to one side of the menu. It all looked too good. My boyfriend and I shared four plates, starting with pork and shrimp wontons in a creamy soy sauce. Then came the most perfect Romaine salad. I know Romaine salad sounds boring. And this one was really simple. But not standard. The dressing was like a light but velvety ranch. Buttermilk. I could taste it. And it was served with half an avocado that was deliciously ripe and perfectly sliced. Sliced red onion for texture and a splash of acidity, and I was practically licking my fork. Embarrassing for my siblings and boyfriend, I’m sure.

We also shared tuna tartare before our entrée. Hands down one of the best things I ate all weekend. It was served on a bed of sushi rice with an odd little surprise on the side—ruffled potato chips. Oh. My. God. Mixing the soft, sweet tuna and rice with the crunch and salt from the chip was amazing. I half jokingly asked my boyfriend if we could order another plate of it and secretly wished he took me seriously. Instead we got ready for the short ribs, served over a potato puree with horseradish. And then the butterscotch pudding on a gingerbread cookie. And then…I couldn’t move. I was a happy girl, not only because I really liked the food, but because my little sister, her husband, and my brother seemed equally happy if not downright giddy. They’d tried a new place, tasted some different things and were laughing, conversing like adults and smiling the whole time. I’m so proud of them, and they’re so grown up it’s silly.

More Boston love to come.