musings.schelley.org

For reasons that aren't necessarily clear to anyone, I was tasked with giving a presentation at a planning conference (remember, I just started the job a few weeks ago). Incredibly stressful, and thanks to some last minute help from Jeff, the presentation went very well (note: consumers are cool!) and to celebrate, I took myself to Matt's in the Market, just down the street in Pike Place Market. Matt's now ranks as one of my favorite all-time Seattle restaurants; it reminds me a bit of Canteen in San Francisco, in size (tiny, tiny, tiny, including counter seating), waitstaff (uber friendly), emphasis on fresh ingredients (as in harvested a few minutes ago from the sea) and the subtle twists that deliver an unexpected layer of complexity and goodness in the final product.

I began with a glass of pinot grigio and the asparagus and macademia crusted goat cheese salad. While the dressing was a too tangy for me (which meant it was really tangy since I usually tone down my own dressings for others), I loved the generous helping of roasted asparagus and goat cheese. I switched to a German white (gruner something), nice and crisp with a pleasant, bubbly finish. This complimented my entree of seared scallops, served with broccolini and mashed potatos, and topped with lime pickle. Yes, that is correct - lime pickle, that very distinctive Indian side. The entire effect was fabulous, the scallops were practically moving when seasoned by the chef (I sat the counter, so watched him make my meal) and the lime pickle added a nice, sour counterbalance to the overall dish.

Not usually one for ice cream, on Monday, Jeff told me about his search for the perfect chocolate sauce to accompany his ice cream, which had the effect of making me crave ice cream (a food item I rarely eat). Luckily for me, dark chocolate gelato was on the menu, and finished my Matt's meal quite nicely.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Amy, a friend and former co-worker, was in Seattle for a conference, and schedules worked out so that we could have dinner together. Considering that we've had a wonderful tradition of drinking excellent wine together for at least five years, I wasn't surprised when she texted me that instead of hanging at Cafe Ladro, she'd gone next door to Union for a glass of wine. Receiving her text made me jealous - I was stuck in stop and barely go 520 traffic (worst ever commute, an hour and a half. People who stall on the bridge should not be allowed to own a car). Being social, Amy had already struck up conversations with the guy sitting next to her (we later pondered his sexuality and wondered just how he'd managed to be in all of the places he claimed) and the bartender (who had a very fresh shiner that we decided was best not to ask about).

Union emphasizes an artistic and gourmet menu, accompanied by an excellent wine list. I relaxed with an excellent Zin. After one drink, we decided to stay for dinner, dining at the bar, really, the fun place in almost any restaurant (in some ways, akin to the "kids table" once the late teen years have been reached). I began with a crab and avocado salad, liberally mixed with basil olive oil and lime juice. Amy enjoyed English pea soup: a poached duck egg centered in a shallow bowl was delivered to the table, into which the server poured the thick, green soup. It's worth noting that the runny yolk mixed nicely with the minty soup. We chose fish as our entree: hamachi for Amy and seared yellowtail for me. Both pieces were well seasoned and absolutely delicious. We asked the bartender to choose a wine - he did an excellent job, although of course, the types escape me (beyond white, and definitely not a California chardonnay for me). Mental note: start taking notes on wine that I drink, since my descriptions of the wine on this blog are fairly pitiful.

The lemon tart with creme fraiche was almost perfect; I'm not sure which lemon tart would win if forced to battle for the top position, Olympia Cafe in Cape Town or Union. The sweet crust, whose French name completely escapes me, was perfect, well balanced against the not-to-sweet custard.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 10:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Last week, Molly and I dined at Crow in Queen Anne. It's a cool, somewhat trendy place, very loftlike. I spent some quality time at the bar before Molly arrived with a very nice shiraz. Note to the wise, avoid the pinot. The bartender told me it wasn't good, and then recommended the shiraz. I went with the recommendation - a bartender's job is to sell drinks and I have to believe he wouldn't lead me astray. Later, he gave me a taste of the pinot, and he was entirely correct to dissuade me; it was bad, reminding me of watery fruit punch with a licorice kick in the finish. We both started with the lettuce wedge, nicely covered in a buttermilk dressing and tangy roquefort cheese. My main course was a baby artichoke ragout, with tomatoes, onions and fennel, served with a round of polenta and a generous dollop of ricotta and basil pesto. Very enjoyable, definitely a place to return. Mental note: Crow doesn't have an espresso machine, so one should just end with the main course and walk next door to Cafe Vita for after dinner cappuccinos, etc.

This weekend, the concierge gave me a great sushi recommendation, Nijo, ironically, a place that I driven past every morning for the past three weeks, on the corner of Post Alley and Seneca. Rather than ordering off of the menu, I asked the sushi chef to make me a couple of his favorite rolls. He delivered the Bainbridge (steamed asparagus, shrimp, avocado, cucumber) and the Frank and Beans (tempura shrimp and avocado topped with spicy tuna and black tobbiko, which received its color from soy sauce and something else). I like the risk of giving a sushi roll a name that one would never associate with sushi - it's a nice surprise.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 7:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

While driving south on I-5 from Lynnwood, I had one of those "WOW" moments, one that makes me proud and happy. I approached the city skyline, tall building twinkling in the dark and flanked on the left by the space needle. This is my new home, I thought, and wow, it looks damn good.

My very swanky temporary housing (the Harbor Steps) is within stumbling distance to Pike Place Market. I'd been at least two or three times previously, always lusting after the beautiful fish and produce, but never able to make purchases, either staying with friends or in a hotel. This time, I shopped like a local, buying wild sockeye salmon, some veggies and other cooking items, like olive oil, salt and pepper (and kicking myself for not packing cooking basics in the temp housing box). A few days ago, I bought a crab. Odd, as I spent two years in San Francisco, another great crab city, but only ate the crustacean in restaurants and at crab feeds. (Which reminds me, I never wrote about the Guardsmen Crab feed in January, held at the Anchor Steam Brewery, where they served up ten different varieties of high quality Anchor Steam [who knew?], plain crab and crab cooked in a rich and delicious buttery sauce. They also had pasta and salad, but really, with all of that crab, the sides didn't matter).

Pike Place is also the home of Beecher's, a local cheese shop. You can actually watch the artisans make cheese, a site that went well with the cup of Beecher's tomato soup that I consumed (Nilay, pay attention 'cause you have to come and have the soup). I bought the nicely ripe and runny "Tranquility", a "lighter" brie with sharp and somewhat pungent flowery flavors.

I'm only making a slight understatement by saying that Seattle has a lot of coffee shops. They are everywhere in this highly caffeinated city. Perhaps that explains the questionable driving...Thus far, my favorite coffee shop is Cafe Ladro, excellent coffee and great pastries (and a location on Broadway, not far from my soon-to-be Capitol Hill home). Last weekend, I enjoyed a scone with feta cheese, basil and sun-dried tomatoes for breakfast, and later the same day, I cracked and had a scrumptious piece of pecan pie for dessert.

B&O Cafe, in Capitol Hill had so-so food, which made me conclude that while people tolerate the food, they really go for the desserts. The cafe had at least 30 different cakes, pies and other classes of desserts. I chose the Marseilles Cake, a dense white cake with layers of cream and strawberries and a frosting job resembling a basket weave. Interestingly, it tasted very similar to a cake that I've made several times from Bon Appetit, including the addition of citrus to the cake batter and the strawberries. Only Bon Appetit didn't call it a "Marseilles cake", but instead, "strawberry basket cake". And the B&O version had three layers of cake, versus two for the Bon Appetit cake.

In other news...
I read a great NY Times review of Julia Childs' new autobiography, My Life in France. I'm putting the book on my Amazon wish list, along with Mastering The Art of French Cooking and Julia and Jacques Cooking at Home. And yes, I know that as someone who spends much time in the kitchen, those books should have entered my collection a long time ago. I am ashamed and have no excuses.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 6:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The whole moving and not having a laptop/Internet access at home has put a dent in the blogging. More on the way, I promise, and for now, a few highlights.

--I forgot to write about dinner at Quince with Tony. Quince was amazing, one of my favorite "high end" meals in a while. Of note was the homemade angel hair pasta (80% egg yolk, giving it much bite) sauteed in a light butter/wine sauce and dressed with shaved white truffles. Even while drinking my chai latte the next morning, I could still taste the garlicky tanginess of the truffles.

--I also forgot to follow up with some details on the St. Paddy's Friday night final sunday dinner. The meat was excellent - can't imagine how much better it could have been had the brisket brined in the dry rub for the recommended 5-7 days instead of the 3 days that I gave it. Lots of flavor, very tender, the veggies (cabbage, duh!, carrots, boiling onions, parsnips, boiling potatos) were tasty and everyone enjoyed. Except for Jeff, who was a little too drunk by the time dinner came along to focus on eating. Speaking of which, in all of the drunken entertaining at my apartment over the past two years, Jeff is the only one causing any damage, spilling his drink down the hallway and putting a major scratch in the door frame.

--Final SF dinner at Pizzeria Delfina (mmmm!) and final breakfast at the Pork Store Cafe (chicken fried steak, of course).

--Jill welcomed me to Seattle with dinner at the Stumbling Goat in Ballard (I think I mistakenly referred to it as the "Drunken Goat". Almost the same thing). The seared pork tenderloin was fine, the sides were excellent: Chinese mustard greens sauteed with garlic and another vegetable, similar to artichokes but with a texture of firm celery, cooked in a light cream sauce and garnished with a generous helping of parmesan (the name escapes me, I think sunchokes).

--My new employer provides cafeteria facilities for all employees, selling food at generous discounts. It's not of the highest calibre of gourmet-ness, and there seems to be a general sense among long-term employees that the cafeteria isn't good. To that I say, bring your own lunch or try working at a company that doesn't have a cafeteria.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 5:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)