Happy Campers

08 Sunday May 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in beach mode, Eating Out, Ginger + Buddy, Reviews

Tags

Alderbrook Resort, Happy Mother's Day, King Salmon Naan with Fried Capers and Garlic Aioli

PS_camper shoes

Getting out of town is always a good idea, even when one lives in a good town. A change of pace, a change of scenery, a change in attitude, a mini-break always does good things. This weekend, I am taking you to the Hood Canal in Washington, where we will sit by the water, sit by the fire, eat oysters and fish, drink beer and wine, soak up the sun and breathe in the salty and fresh air. We will watch eagles soar and happily look over our pups as they relax, play, sleep, eat and walk in the natural beauty of the NW.

Four weekends ago, we got out of town and headed to my in-laws vacation home 2 hours south of Seattle in Hoodsport, WA. We have been there many times and enjoy every visit, but interestingly, we never once stopped at the waterside resort in Union, located a mere 20 minutes from their place called Alderbrook. Being that it was a sunny Friday afternoon and hunger pains were calling, as we rolled through town we decided to stop and have lunch on their patio (finally).

Of course, despite this being the nicest Spring in the region that anyone can remember, the patio was not open yet (even though it was 72 degrees!). BUT, they served “picnic lunches” which really was a fancy way of saying you could take the food “to go” and sit on the property, anywhere. The best part for us (of course), was that our dogs were allowed to sit with us too. We ordered a couple of drinks and strolled down to the lawn which was right at waters edge. I went back to the car, collected Buddy and Ginger, and then the four of us settled into Adirondack chairs and watched a man collect many bags of oysters. Many!

tom 3

And as the hours passed, starring at the water, the sky, the flora and fauna, a cart appeared and they were served water-side on the dock, being freshly-shucked as the happy guests strolled by.

oyster 1

oyster 2

The lunch menu was extensive but not so large as to overwhelm. It showcased the abundance of seafood we are blessed with in the Pacific Northwest and also provided plenty of alternatives to satisfy those that did not want to eat fish; the burger we tried the next day proved to be one of the very best (sorry Burger Stand)!

We were hankering for a well-concocted batch of fish and chips, and along with a couple of local beers, we ordered that as well as the brown sugar steelhead naan “sandwich”. The fish and chips were thickly battered, cooked to the perfect state of golden brown, moist, tender and best of all, not soggily dripping with oil. The tarter sauce boasted the perfect tang of pickle, partnered with just the right amount of dill.

picnic naan

It was the steelhead that we were most taken with though. So simple yet a delightful pocket of flavor easily eaten by hand; making a well-suited partner for the surroundings. One order came with two rounds of naan spread in garlic aioli, topped with a single leaf of lettuce, a sautéed fillet of steelhead and fried capers sprinkled atop. A wedge of lemon squeezed over just before taking a bite set up an explosion of flavor that was akin to the sound of a favorite jazz tune, keeping a beat slow and steady as expected but with a lick of sass thrown in.

campers 2

Nearby was a pit of fire sending out lovely wafts of smokiness that mixed happily with the briny air. A happy bunch of “campers” were gathered ’round with sticks of marshmallows roasting.

campers 1

Buddy was snuggled in next to me, snoozing peacefully under the shade of my scarf. Ginger had her own chair and eagerly looked over to the action at the fire pit, holding court as many other four-legged friends stopped by to exchange a quick hello as they moved on with their happy families

Needless to say, we had found what seemed like, an old friend. Sun, beachfront, comfy chairs and each other.

Mixed with the company of our pups, good food, well-made drinks and the casualness of a day off at the beach, we were ready to move in.

buddy 3

So as I write this, it should come as no surprise that we landed back to that happy place once again two weekends ago. You can’t recreate a moment but you can create new ones, which is precisely what we did. Sun, surf, substanence and seafood! Life is good.

buddy ginger

King Salmon Naan with Fried Capers and Garlic Aioli
Serves 2

We recreated our (current) favorite menu item from the Alderbrook Resort at home, using fresh Alaskan king salmon, because that was what was most available to us at the time. Steelhead is a much thinner fillet which produces a crisp crust giving way to delicate flesh. Steelhead is really just trout disguised as salmon. King salmon is a happy substitute, also sporting a delicate flesh but is thicker, juicier and has more richness.

ps_Naan 1

This is a simple preparation as well as a healthy alternative to eating grab ‘n go when time is short during a busy week. The naan we like to get is a brand called “Stone Hearth” and easily found at our local grocers. The aioli we used was our go to”mayonnaise, aka Wildwood aioli that we buy at PCC or Whole Foods. It is low in cholesterol and has a mildly sweet taste of garlic with the creaminess of mayonnaise but no chemical after taste. The best capers are sold jarred in salt rather than brine. Yes, it does seem counter-intuitive but those stored in salt actually retain less sodium than those in liquid. I always soak my capers in water and drain before serving to expel any additional, unneeded salt. Just as they serve this at Alderbrook, for added crunch, a nice hearty leaf of lettuce is used but for added color and perhaps a little bit of elegance, spinach can be substituted.

ps_spinach 2

INGREDIENTS

1 lb king salmon fillet, bones and skin removed
1/2 tsp brown sugar
Sea salt and pepper to taste
3 lemon wedges
Olive oil for grilling
2 TB Wildwood Aioli (or homemade garlic aioli) plus more for serving if desired
2 large, crunchy leaves of lettuce (Romaine, Red Leaf, Green Leaf or Butter Lettuce)
2 TB salt-packed capers, rinsed and soaked thoroughly in water for at least 10 minutes, then drained and soaked again.
2 rounds Stone Fire Naan, or other naan

PREPARATION

Rinse and pat-dry the salmon. Spread the brown sugar over the fillet and season lightly with sea salt and pepper. Squeeze the juice from one lemon wedge over.

Prepare a grill to very hot.

In a small fry pan, heat enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan. Drain the capers and pat dry. Add them to the pan and fry for a few minutes until crisp. Remove capers with a slotted spoon and let drain on a paper towel until ready to use.

ps_salmon 1

Brush the salmon with olive oil and brush the grill with olive oil (I prefer a dampened paper towel). Grill the salmon on the top side for approximately 5 minutes without moving. It is ready to be turned when it comes away easily from the grill with a spatula. Grill the second side until just barely cooked in the center, only a few minutes more.

Meanwhile, as the salmon is cooking on the second side, add the naan to the grill. Cook them on each side until slight grill marks form and the bread is soft and warm.

TO ASSEMBLE

Slather each naan with 1 TB aioli, top with one leaf of lettuce. Divide the fish among the two pieces of naan and top with a sprinkling of capers.

ps_Naan 2

Serve with a wedge of lemon and perhaps a side of sliced tomatoes.

Do we have to leave?

bloody mary

Happy Mother’s Day Mom (Pat), Mom (Lois), Mom (Linda), Mom (Talita), Mom (Doris), Sis (Laura), Sis (Christine) and Sis (Irma),; all of the lovely mothers in our family!!!!

Love,
Us (4)

Time for a spa day!

Luna – a love story

21 Sunday Feb 2016

Posted by Stacey Bender in Breakfast/Brunch, Eating Out, the kitchen

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Curried avocado toasts, London Plane, pickled radish

PS_hana and luna with toast

I first met Luna at a most wonderful eatery in Pioneer Square called London Plane. We had curried avocado toasts for lunch (or at least her mom and I did).

PS2_luna in window 2

I have now known Luna for 5 days. I hope to know Luna for 50 more years. I think she will do great things. How can she not, with that smile that lights up a room, and those eyes, that convey her ability to know all that surrounds her? I looked at her innocent little face; at that moment, her binky dropped, her eyes looked straight through me and she smiled, a very happy and honest smile.

It makes me realize that time goes quickly and ever on as the lives of those we cherish go on without us. I am too easily distracted from the happenings of their lives, only to try and catch up with my own.

September of 2015, on a sunny afternoon, I finally caught up for lunch with my friend Hana. She stood to hug me and I noticed that she looked as radiant and stylish as ever. It wasn’t until midway through our meal that her pregnancy was revealed; she was due in less than 2 months. How is it I didn’t notice? She is a small woman, whose bump was barely visible but yet still…?

Hana is part of a story we all know; boy meets girl and both boy and girl fall in love. Like most stories though, their’s too is unique. They came together against small odds and become a couple that we all root for. They are cute together and are made for each other so we are all thrilled that it has worked out. Ups, downs, tiny (but beautiful) houseboat and all, they are a creative couple that are well suited for one another. Now, along comes Luna. Lovely Luna. Two, soon became three and what fun that will be. Luna. She came along and…life is her song…. Jon, marry that girl and finish the Love Story. I’ll finish (with) the toast!

hana and luna with toast 3

Curried Avocado Toast with Pickled Radish, Melted Cheese, Roast Chicken and Fried Egg

This version is not actually on toast but rather on Summer House English Muffins, brought to me by my travlin’ Tom. This is also somewhat my brunch version of what Hana and I had at London Plane, but from what I hear, you can order it there with an egg too if desired. We (Hana and I) quite liked it as it was served, cold and with no egg. My version, made over a weekend, was gearing toward brunch.

The curry in the avocado is lovely (like Luna), make sure it is fresh. The pickled radish is key to an explosion of flavor and crunch. Cheese or no cheese, egg or not, hot or cold, English muffin or toast, all choices to be had but do what you will, and perhaps, try both (or all) ways.

ingredients 2

INGREDIENTS (serves 2)

1 avocado
1/2 shallot, chopped
pinch of sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
1 tsp curry powder
1 tsp fresh lemon juice

3-4 small radishes, stemmed and sliced very thin
2 TB amber vinegar or rice wine vinegar
1 TB water
pinch of sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
1 tsp raw sugar
a sprinkle of chili flakes

1 English muffin, slit in half
1/2 cup roasted chicken, shredded
2 thin slices swiss or gruyere cheese
2 eggs

PREPARE

In a small bowl, mash the avocado with the shallot, pinch of sea salt, pepper, curry and lemon juice.

In a separate small bowl, mix the radish slices with the vinegar, water, a pinch of sea salt, pepper and sugar. Let sit for at least 15 minutes.

Toast the English muffin halves.

Top them with the avocado mix, then some roasted chicken and then slices of pickled radish.

You could stop here and just enjoy, or keep going for a warm meal.

Top this with a slice of the cheese. Broil for a few minutes in the oven until the cheese melts and the muffin warms through.

no egg

Top with a fried egg and enjoy.

with egg 2

Meanwhile, my precious babies nap.

my babies napping

60!

29 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, family gatherings

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

George and Peggy Brown, The Lucky Wishbone

The year was 1951. A couple, a young child and their dog drove up the Al-Can highway after the war and soon opened, what was at the time, a small shack of a diner. They soon hired a waitress named Agnes (Aggie). They woke up early, went to bed late and peeled potatoes, fried chicken, griddled burgers, and spun a yarn in-between. 50 years later (10 years ago), Aggie was still there, cooking, smiling and helping to shape the sense of Place. The child was now grown with three siblings, three children of her own and a much different job, running the offices of a US Senator.

The man and the woman were still married and still the Host and Hostess of an ever-present gathering spot in Alaska, serving the best fried chicken, burgers and shakes around. They had created an institution. The photos on the walls told the story of those 50 years and the years preceding them. A WWII pilot, George met Peggy waiting tables at a diner in Utah when he began courting her. It was a fast romance that resulted in that previously mentioned child. On this day, some 60 years later, The Lucky Wishbone still has a line out the door during the lunch rush, has some of it’s original employees or their offspring, their original patrons and/or their offspring and is still owned/operated by 94-year-old George Brown, my Grandfather. And you guessed it, that child is my Mother.

This November 30, 2015, The Lucky Wishbone turns 60. I am so proud. If walls could speak, the stories would be many. Each of us kids have put in our time there learning what it is like to put in a good day’s work for a good day’s pay. Learning what quality product and service should be. Learning so much….about life. I personally, feel the Lucky Wishbone shaped who I am today, for many reasons. I know it has shaped the lives of many others, both patrons and staff.

To George and Peg (Grandma is smiling from above) – Congratulations! To Grandpa and Grandma – I love you and thank you! To all the employees that I worked with and ate with and grew to know as family – Salute!.

Happy Birthday to “the Bone”! (and Happy Birthday to my Tom whose birthday it is today; you still light up my life).

I think I’ll go cook up some fried chicken now myself. But Julia, might you bring some home for me?

my fried chicken.jpg

The second act

22 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Willows Inn

breakfast from side.jpg

When you have eaten the best meal of your life, it is hard to know where the one to top it will come from and you are likely to think it will be somewhere new. Standing on the ferry dock, I looked around noticing how different it felt then it had a year and a half before. The sky was beginning to fade, slowly; the hot sun had been replaced with a misty rain and a hint that winter was closer than anticipated. Buddy stumbled out of the car and left his mark before curling back up in his bed, but Ginger decided she was in a hurry to get to our destination. She squatted on the sand to lighten her load and then made a bee-line for the dock. She ran past the cars and her tail wagged eagerly as her tall legs took her closer and closer to the waters edge.

ginger on dock.jpg

Panic swept over me as I realized she was still faster than I was, and as you may know, definitely has a mind of her own. I ran awkwardly behind (and I’m sure we were quite a sight to the others waiting for the ferry), but I luckily caught her before she was able to plunge happily off the end of the dock. Ginger knew where we were headed, back to the Willows Inn. Best meal of my life, and a favorite puppy adventure spot.

Whew!

Tom and I refreshed after hauling our things from car up the hill and then up the steps to the cottage. I’m sure to the kitchen staff in the windows nearby that it looked like we were moving in. Nothing like a little workout before a grand indulgence! We tucked the kids into their beds before heading down to the lounge for a cocktail. Stepping in from the cold, damp air, we were immediately warmed by the heat of a blazing fire and the room was filled with a wonderfully smokey aroma and the sounds of laughter and chatter.

There were only two seats open, next to a shelf filled with jars of island preserves of dried herbs and even creatures from the sea. Above the shelf was a windowless opening that looked over the bar which was tucked back in it’s own cozy room. We ordered our cocktails (two Dogwoods made with apple cider and rye) and sat back to take in the scene. Even though our dinner reservations weren’t until the next evening, we felt as if we were guests at a grand dinner party.

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As the dinner hour began, we sat cozily sipping our cocktail in the parlor while everyone else was escorted to their seats. Soon plates of food came from the kitchen being delivered to the guests. What a wonderful scene, we had the best seat in the house to watch the magic unfold. Suddenly to our surprise, a warm brick with the most amazing roasted sunflower root sitting on top arrived. We smiled, what a treat to wrap up the beverages with before our lazy departure. We savored their sweetness and the accompanying sweet onion puree, was literally finger-licking good. Then, out of the blue, a plate of perfectly prepared, delicate chanterelles were set before us, and followed by two of the freshest oysters topped with rose hip granita. As yet another plate arrived, I very guiltily reminded our server that we weren’t joining for dinner until the following night. His reply “Oh I know, but we’re feeling nice.”, with a wink. “Plus, it doesn’t mean your not important.”…

Feeling as though that was enough to be the perfect dinner, we snuck out the back and headed around the island to the Beach House Cafe across from the ferry dock. Again, warm and inviting, but casually, country pleasant.

Our sweet server, serving the table behind us.

We had a sweet server and enjoyed a wonderful meal of fried cornish hen, spaghetti bolanaise and a delightful salad of apples, goat cheese and beets. We went to bed that night in anticipation of the Inn’s breakfast the next morning. On our previous visit, when we had stayed for the first time, we woke up on a Monday; no breakfast service on that day and had wondered, what if?

We, of course, were late to the dining room, sneaking in just prior to the 11:00am close. Luckily, a foursome was still there and another followed shortly after us so we were not left to dine alone. The menu was somewhat odd, I remember thinking.

Soon I would realize, each bite was in harmony with the others and I was about to eat what would be the best breakfast of my life.

kitchen prep 2.jpg

As we sat in the parlor after finishing our meal, sipping the remains of our champagne, the once quiet kitchen began to awaken. It seemed like an easy melody at first, starting out quietly, slowly building up to, what would eventually end in a crescendo. The air began filling with smells that were reminiscent of the holidays. I half expected a little grandmother to come ask me if I wanted tea. We were completely alone in the room, other than the fire, yet directly behind us, merely 15 steps away, was a most elaborate production unfolding. Dinner preparation was underway and many hours of work ahead by the dedicated staff. Among them was Blaine himself, just recently returning from his book release in New York the night before.

There was a promise of rain, but for now, we had dry skies and took advantage of it by heading down to the beach where, once again, we were completely alone. The sandy shores were speckled with remnants tossed up from the ocean. Ginger and Buddy frolicked, wearing themselves out once again.

Warming up after the romp in the sand.

tom Soon it would be time for the second act, and another perfect meal…

…the best meals of our lives!

Buddy Hop

22 Sunday Feb 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Ginger + Buddy, Health, the kitchen

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

acupuncture for dogs, Brunch, duck confit hash, roasted mushroom & cauliflower sauce

Buddy can’t jump up or get down our bedroom step in the dim light anymore (but Tom says he can still get down and get funky). There is only one step but he will stand looking at that step, whining, until he is rescued from it to the wool carpet or to the comfort of the bed, fluffy with down and warmly coated with a thick wool throw. The bed is only a foot and a half high but he has trouble jumping up to that too… even more-so if the covers are untucked, because he then has no access to the lower perimeter ledge of the upholstered frame.

Somewhere between 3 weeks to a month ago, he stepped up his game (yes, pun intended), and flew down the stair (singular), without a blink in the dimly lit room, but because I had food (in bed). The movement was quick, so determined, yet graceful and swift; he landed in the proximity of my lap (up on the mattress top, plus fluff, bed) all before I could blink. He landed even before Ginger could get to the step. I think he likes cheese!

I am always amazed at how much time I can spend just watching my dogs. They aren’t always doing anything especially exciting and there is rarely a time that they do something new, or something I have never seen them do at least a dozen times before.

Yet there I sit, watching, never growing tired of what I see. The slight movement of one’s head will have me smirk or smile as the nose on that head nestles under the nose of a stuffed bear, or as a tiny paw tucks underneath their own wet, cold nose. Watching them sleep is an activity I am particularly fond of; I like watching their inactivity. Particularly the newer activity of sleeping next to each other, sometimes even touching back to back; a sight we never thought possible a few years ago.

There is a sound that comes out of Buddy as he sleeps that I find myself listening to as intently as if there were a jazz band jamming on a new tune. It is somewhere between a snore and a groan but it is rhythmic and undulating, moving his breath in and out. Ginger doesn’t snore, she rests softly, until she lets out a large sigh. The sigh is so long, peaceful and cleansing that it reminds me to let my breath out and breathe, yes, yes, b r e a t h e.

Ginger is still active for a gal of fourteen. She loves to play like a puppy and she spends many moments flopping to and fro on her back. Ginger is a ham (which, of course, goes well with cheese). She likes to perform and she wants all eyes on her. Buddy is more of an onlooker. He sees all and makes sure he is always in the know. I can’t walk two steps in the house without him following frantically behind (tap, tap, tap, tap, hop).

If there is food, or even if Buddy thinks there should be food, he makes it a habit to levitate while letting out an enormous squeal. The sound should have me cringing as I would from the sound of a slow, d e e p scratch over a chalkboard. However, watching a small, furry, live cartoon character, lift off the floor, all fours at once, is amusement enough to let the sound become overlooked and to send me to the kitchen to get food.

Buddy has a hop to his step. Sometimes, when he gets excited, his hop becomes higher and more pronounced, like a bunny. He is animated in his movements and I can see how he might be considered the real inspiration of “jumping beans”. He would also make a good fencer because he is agile, plus quick to duck back and forth to get out of my way as I swiftly prepare a meal in the kitchen or two-step at the bathroom sink getting ready each morning.

Some days, I think buddy is a puppy, but others I realize he is an old(er) man. Sadly, recently we had one of those “old man” days. Last Saturday morning we awoke to a hunched back, little/old furry guy. No telling why but the skip and the hop were not present; in their place were moans, agitated snoozing and hesitancy to move. He looked disoriented, uncomfortable and (gasp) old.

At least he had comfort in his friend.

The severity of our concern escalated for 24 hours without apparent relief or restitution of symptom. No more leaping at cheese (on the bed or elsewhere), hopping, skipping or otherwise enjoying the usual happy pursuit claiming food. This could not end well, I thought. I was once told (and believe for myself as well as for my pups), that without the rudimentary, yet essential yearning of food, it is time to be concerned. In other words, as long as one has an appetite, it can’t be too bad. Luckily, his appetite did remain, it was simply the lengths to which he would go to obtain the food that had changed.

Come Monday, we were able to secure an acupuncture appointment with Dr. Rice. We were hopeful that relief was in store but not convinced that it was going to provide complete recovery. Thankfully, we were proven wrong (about complete recovery). Within mere seconds of the first needle going in, a large, dumb, tongue hanging grin appeared on buddy’s previously tortured looking face. I don’t think Tom or I could have smiled any larger than we did at the sight of that toothless grin.

Pin cushion Buddy

We are avid believers in the practice of acupuncture, both for dogs and of humans, after experiencing it first-hand for ourselves; if ever skeptical about the effectiveness of it though, this was proof enough for us. At the exact moment that the smile appeared on Buddy’s face, relief washed over us and we realized the power was deep and even more powerful than we first had believed. We brought in an old man and went home with a pup.

Pitter pat, pitter pat….pat..pat…pat….pat! To and fro, up, down, hop…skip…jump!

Duck confit hash with poached egg, roasted mushroom & cauliflower sauce
Serves 2, easily doubles

Buddy and Ginger used to eat duck and potato kibble from Prescription Diet; this was due to Ginger’s early allergies that were suspected to be due to food. Apparently, this is a very common thing for canines to suffer from and it was(is) believed that by feeding them sources of food not readily available to their ancestors, there bodies would be less susceptible to allergy. Hence, duck to replace chicken and potato to replace traditional grain. It has been awhile since they have eaten that food (since Buddy’s first scare) but their newer diet does still consist of duck (raw, from Darwin’s). We try to lay low on potatoes but they love them and are sometimes allowed to still have them snuck into their meals (boiled, not fried).

Last weekend, while brunching at Sitka & Spruce on Valentine’s Day (a day I have long ago sworn off from eating out on, but this brunch was spontaneous), we stopped into Rain Shadow Meats. For those of you who have not been to Melrose Market on Capital Hill in Seattle, you must go. If you live here, you probably have been, if you haven’t, it is worth a trip. The brunch at Sitka & Spruce still has me drooling and attempting to recreate the roasted carrots with rhutabega puree.

Our duck confit from Rain Shadow Meats, pictured on the counter to the right

With several brown packages tucked neatly under my arm, we looked forward to our dinner. Plans always sound better with a cocktail and a good meal. We ended up eating pizza, but did make a series of delicious meals on the days to follow as we pursued using up all of the meats that we bought that day. The remains of their house-made duck confit was still in our fridge the following Saturday morning (yesterday), so I decided to make a duck hash for brunch.

The hash is topped with a poached egg drizzled with roasted mushroom and cauliflower sauce. The sauce is actually a soup that I made mid-week for Ginger and Buddy but it works nicely over the egg, and they enjoyed it this way for brunch too (sans hash for them).

This starts with my breakfast potatoes, then gets layered with caramelized onions, roasted pepper and the duck. Cooking low-and-slow helps everything to remain soft while developing a nice crust. You can purchase duck confit from a good grocery store or your butcher if you aren’t in a position to confit it yourself. This would also be equally good with a roasted duck leg which is really easy to do and less expensive to buy.

INGREDIENTS

3 potatoes, cut into 1/2″ dice, parboiled in salted water
1 TB butter or duck fat
1/2 of a roasted red pepper, cut into strips or 1/2″ diced
A handful of caramelized onions (approximately 1/4 cup)
Meat from a 1/4 leg duck confit (approximately 3-4 oz.)
1 oz chèvre
2-4 poached eggs (1-2 per person)
3-4 spoonfuls roasted mushroom & cauliflower sauce per person (recipe to follow)

PREPARE

To a very hot pan over high heat, add the butter or duck fat. When it has melted, add the potatoes and turn the heat to low.

Let the potatoes cook, undisturbed for about ten minutes then stir them around to brown the other side.

After a few more minutes, when the potatoes begin to soften and color, add the bell pepper, onion and duck. Stir to combine then let cook, undisturbed for another 10 minutes or so.

Stir again, then cover with foil and continue to cook over low heat while you poach the eggs. Turn on the broiler before poaching the eggs.

As you remove the eggs from the poaching water, crumble the hash with the chèvre and place the pan under the broiler for just a minute or two.

TO SERVE

Divide the hash between plates, top with an egg (or two) and drizzle with sauce.

Roasted mushroom & cauliflower sauce (or soup)

This makes a delicious soup both for us and our dogs. You can adjust the thickness by adding or omitting chicken stock. Vegetable stock works too if you want to keep it vegetarian or use water if you don’t have any stock. When I serve myself this as a soup, I drizzle the top with truffle or Argan oil. You could also slice raw mushrooms very thinly, season them with sea salt and pepper, then marinate them in lemon juice, truffle and olive oils. Add these as a garnish on top of the soup.

The quantities below are just a suggestion. Using more or less vegetable will require more or less liquid. There are so few ingredients that the roasting and coloring of the mushrooms and cauliflower are what will yield the intensity of the flavor. I like using a ratio of more mushrooms than cauliflower to bring out the nutty earthiness but it is the cauliflower that smooths the consistency nicely enough to use it as a sauce. I use my Blendtec to puree which turns it velvety smooth.

INGREDIENTS

10-12 oz Crimini mushrooms, stems discarded
1/4 head cauliflower, large stocks removed and discarded, florets separated
Olive oil
2 cups chicken stock (from this recipe if serving to pups)
Approximately 3 TB lemon juice
Sea salt and pepper to taste (limit this if serving to pups)

PREPARE

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Put the mushrooms and cauliflower on a sheet pan and drizzle with a little olive oil. Roast them in the oven until the mushrooms are slightly crisp but not burnt and the cauliflower is browned, approximately 15 minutes.

Remove the pan from the oven and let cool slightly. Transfer to a food processor or blender (again, if you have a Blendtec or similar, use that). Add the stock or water and lemon juice.

Puree until completely smooth. Add more liquid if needed or desired. The consistancy should tend toward the thickish-side. Season to taste and serve warm as a soup or a sauce.

Brunch is good!

Roasted carrots at Sitka & Spruce

Brussel sprout, flora & parsnip fritatta at Sitka and Spruce

Brussel sprout, flora & parsnip fritatta at Sitka & Spruce

Duck confit hash at Chez Stacey

Happy pups, begging for more at Chez Stacey

A Day in the Life: The dogs (and food) of Santana Row

24 Saturday Jan 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

dogs in the city, Paula Rees, San Jose California, Santana Row

My Utopia would be a place in which our dogs were welcome to accompany us anywhere. A place that was warm, but not hot, comfortable, but not staged. It would have cafes with good food and well-made drinks. There would be music and energy, not simply noise. The people would be interesting, colorful and friendly; rich or not rich, well-dressed or happily clad in that odd garment that only they could wear well. The dogs of course, would be central to the community, more plentiful than young children, yet less dominant than the surrounding flavor.

When music was involved, we would dance, even if only in our heads (well, not all of us). The days would pass by the minute, not the hour, slowly and with full awareness. We would be with others but also be happily alone, together. The food would be good. I know I already said that but it is important enough to mention again. More important though is the service, the delight in making others have a good time, especially the dogs. The service is not just from those employed to serve us, but from those that wish to serve others, just because.

People would connect and interact; both strangers and friends (often with a shared love of dogs).

(And a shared love of food. Isabelle’s Mom is going to teach me how to make rabbit paella someday, I hope).

In this Utopia, there are many layers, which I prefer to unfold softly and with purpose, rather than irrationally, all at once. I think of Paris; a city to which I have never been. I dream of the cafes, bustling with…well, I don’t know but I imagine them bustling. The smells fragrant and rich, the people sophisticated and flawed but perfect and quirky or perfectly quirky and weird. The dogs are there; always there are dogs. It is a way of life rather than anything else; they are part of the family, why wouldn’t they be there?

This particular utopia is nomadic, not specific to just one location because in my Utopia it is not a make-believe place, rather, a way of life, that just happens to be localized to a certain parcel of land, for this moment in time, and hopefully the next moment, and the next moment again. Most recently, I experienced a little slice of utopia called Santana Row. This strip of land nestled amidst the San Jose Valley is a gathering place for both people and dogs. Everywhere we looked, there were dogs!

And some looked back.

And others went about their business.

Dogs playing and sleeping, sitting, standing or being carefully cradled and held. The restaurants, bistros and cafes that lined the cobbled walks all seemed to have someone furry and four-legged mixed in. The dogs were part of the character, part of the Place.

Some more fashionable than others.

Whether we were waking up to our cappuccino at the French bakery,

(He looks like he needs his coffee.)

sipping on a cocktail under the trees at the tequila bar in the park,

munching on a basket of frites and picking at a plate of charcuterie at the Left Bank,

or washing down our tomato bisque with a glass of rosé at the Wine Bar,

we were accompanied by dogs. Cute, loving, likable dogs.

Joey

Meet Joey. Sweet Joey. It is hard to believe he is quite sick, with late stage cancer that will steal him away too early. On this sunny day though, in that moment, he was enjoying the world around him, breathing in fresh air surrounded by his loved ones as well as strangers, and still willing to share a kiss. He added joy to our day just by being there.

Then there is Coco, whose life is just beginning.

This one is Sasha, who is just as beautiful as and looks like…

…her Mom.

I am sooo thirsty!

Thirsty for more!

Thunder

Casey (reminds us of our Buffy).

Just a day. In the life, at Santana Row.

Paula Rees (Tom’s mentor and our dear friend), of Foreseer (formerly Maestri Design) is the visionary behind making this particular utopia successful. If only everyone could see what Placemaking really brings, to a community, to our lives! Paula and Jeff, thank you for sharing this magical Place! Thank you for bringing us here! And, keep doing more of… this thing that you do, so well.

The crew, hanging out at the Valencia Hotel (minus me, the makeshift photographer equipped only with an iPhone) plotting our assault on the streets below…(and lunch, or was it brunch, or brunch, then lunch? Of course dinner also was divine).

Check-it kids, that’s a wrap. Get in the d**n car!

Notoriously late…

20 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, holidays, Reviews, the kitchen

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

Maui, O'o Farm, Pacifico, Roast Cornish game hens

So late!

I’m notoriously late. Truly, notoriously, can count on it, late!

I have a long-time relationship with a car service that has taken me to the airport for the better part of twenty years (wow, has it really been that long?). Owners of Bellevue Towncar Service, Mark and Natasha, are like family. As Mark was driving Tom and I to the airport for our Thanksgiving/Tom’s birthday trip to Maui, we were discussing individual behaviors. He has a client base that, with time, he has come to know their behaviors are unchanging. I am one of those un-changables; he always schedules in an extra 20 minutes for my tardiness, because he knows I always will be t a r d y .

At first it was a forgotten wallet or one more shirt to pack; five more minutes, please! Sometimes, it was Buffy, taking too long outside to pee (Wheeee! Now it is Ginger and Buddy). Early on, I realized that when I told him to pick me up at 5:00 am, he would be outside at 4:45, and I would usually make it to the curb by 5:15. He never missed a pick-up time, was always early and never late. I was always late, and never early.

As we were conversing in the car this trip, he eluded that he knows me well. Some clients are waiting curbside, bags packed, no matter how early he shows up. With me, he can count on my rushing out the door, with more bags than I need, and never less than 15 minutes late.

So yes, it is December, and as I’m cutting into my Halloween pumpkins, almost six weeks after Halloween (because the Christmas tree has decided to move-in in their place and I don’t want them to go to waste), it occurs to me, I haven’t yet finished writing about O’o Farms. I started writing about it in November…2013! Yes, I said 2013 (more than a year ago, for those of you not paying attention).

A little Grinchy (but festive) with the tree waiting to come inside, but no licks on the candy cane.

So, rewind to the beginning…November, 2013, lunch on “the Farm” (this is what I had to say back then):

“I am not one to be caught acting like a tourist, even if I am (which in this case I’m not) nor would I be the one asking for someone’s autograph; that’s like asking for someone to sign my trash. We are all living life in similar capacity, some just luckier, smarter, or more talented than the others. Some who need for material things and some that are fueled by love. Each of us has, or has had, capacity to change their situation or move geography if desired. I would love to live a million lifetimes, doing something different with each and every one of them. If asked today what it is I want to do and where, the answer would be upcountry, down country or any country – on a farm; a beautiful, spectacular, breathtaking farm. I don’t mean a milking the cows or shoveling manure kind of farm (even though that is part of the package for farm life). I mean a “wow”, I’m lucky to be alive and be allowed to work on this farm kind-of-place!

Now, I can’t say that I’m a gardener (because I’m not); it wasn’t something I ever chose to learn. I can snip my herbs and appreciate the tomatoes that Tom readies every Summer; awaiting their peak as they ripen in the sun. I can plant a row of seeds or pick a crop of berries, if not too large a crop. I do neither of those things particularly well, but I can appreciate those that do. Those that allow we who appreciate the best the land can offer, to partake. I appreciate those that nurture, grow and have respect of land and life. O’o Farms is comprised of just those kind of people. As with any place that is good, it is the people behind that place that make it a good place. O’o Farms is such a place.

We had been meaning to go for a few years but could never drag ourselves off the beach for long enough to see how beautiful this farm is and enjoy the deliciousness it has to offer. When I was on island this (that) past July, I had made reservations online in the wee hours of the night, but apparently, technology didn’t quite make it up the mountain, so we (nieces + Mom) weren’t able to join the farm hands on that trip; much to their dismay. This trip I used the POT device (plain old telephone) so Tom and I were able to join a group of people to tour the farm, harvest fixings for our salad and consume an undeniably delicious lunch, outdoors, looking down over the valley and out to the beach.

Yes, this farm is a spectacular place. It wasn’t always this way though. It might have been beautiful, always, but hard work, passion and good people made it into the magical place that it is today.

Ansel begins the tour at his coffee and olive trees. I was immediately drawn into the enthusiasm he portrayed. He was like a child who was describing (tearing into) a beautifully wrapped gift and simultaneously, a proud papa who had nurtured his child to become prosperous, charitable and kind. He was like an educator who could discover new things alongside his students. Ansel is the orchard manager and the pride that he takes shows, in his words, in his eyes and in the crops that he helps nurture; it is infectious.

After Ansel educated us on their farming practices and agricultural efforts and we had taken the walking tour where we harvested bits for our lunch, JJ wowed us with the edibles from his outdoor kitchen; I thought him to be the luckiest man on earth at the time, and us to be the luckiest of diners. I couldn’t wait to go back.”

Fast-forward to: November, 2014, and our “recent” lunch on the Farm.

On return to the Farm, on the way up the volcano of Haleakala, I breathed in the fresh air and rejoiced.

O’o farms. A tour and a lunch.

A snack, and a tour, and a lunch.

An education, a snack, and a meal!

tour start ansel

Plus the view, once again, isn’t bad either, of the farm, the distant ocean or the guide. Ansel, once again greets his crowd at the start of the epicurean adventure and thoroughly recreates the history, past and present, that went into making this farm the special place that it is. This young man is passionate about the land and the work that goes into cultivating a product special enough to boast itself proudly on menus in Lahaina and at the farm, for which the produce is grown. It is not found in the markets, which makes it coveted by the lucky patrons that are smart enough to book a table (I recommend the table located on the mountain, under the thatched roof, looking down on the valley and out onto the ocean…at this place, called O’o Farm.

I could spiel off all the facts he told us, but that would be like giving away the ending of a movie, you just need to go there to hear about the plot yourself. I will say…compost, chickens, wattle trees, 1,000 crops in rotation…oh my (to the tune of “Lions & Tigers & Bears…oh my).

What I really want to tell you about, is the food. Needless to say, the produce is über fresh and this fact alone, well, this coupled with the wood-fired oven, sets the tone for a spectacular meal. While the group is off touring the farm, harvesting ingredients for the salad, Chef is preparing a glorious feast. Chef JJ, who was with us last year has moved back to the Mainland.

Joining the Farm in October of this year, the sous chef at the sister restaurant Pacific’o (located in Lahaina and definitely worthy of a visit), was Chef Daniel. We really like Chef Daniel. Not only is he a fabulous chef, he is a good guy. He too has that infectious passion for what he does and he openly shares his process with the inquisitives (such as myself) without the airy pretension that can sometimes accompany those donning the coat of a chef.

The Chef

THE FOOD:

After-the-fact, dark now, but still red coals inside. Lovely heat on a cool mountainside (John, I need one of these!).

Wine: Irony chardonnay, BYOB, purchased from our favorite wine shop, Wailea Wine. You are able to bring with you a bottle (or more) of wine to enjoy with your meal. They will keep it chilled (if needed) until lunch and then open it and provide stemware.

Simple focaccia bread, doused heavily in olive oil (made from the harvest of Ansel’s olive trees) and baked in the wood-fired oven. This was so good a fight almost broke out for the last piece (honest, no kidding).

Salad of hand-harvested baby lettuces, spinach, arugula, fennel fronds & purple Osaka (a mustard green that is reminiscent of wasabi) and whatever other stray greens we decided to harvest and throw into the basket on our tour. The salad is dressed with an addictive lemon vinaigrette made by reducing citrus to a syrup and whisking in oil, infused with kafir lime and lemongrass, all from the site. I think everyone at our table would have drank it if offered a cup.

Crispy tofu with wood-fired vegetables, rutabaga, daikon, and watermelon radish. The tofu is memorable, almost magical. It is seared for almost 2 hours to deplete it of excess moisture then cooked amongst a nest of root vegetables to produce a fluffy pillow of flavor with just the right amount of crisp. If you think you don’t like tofu (or even if you do), you will (even more-so) after this.

Fresh-caught local Mahi Mahi roasted in the wood-fired oven. This is finished with a crush of fresh Kafir lime leaf and seared in lemongrass-infused oil, then topped with braised scallions and leeks. The fish is so fresh that it cuts like butter and melts in your mouth, exploding with flavor. Never have I enjoyed this type of fish so much.

lunch 4

Rosemary lemon-brined chicken roasted in the wood-fired oven, topped with juices from the pan and chayote squash (which tastes like a cross between a potato and a cucumber). The chicken was so moist and tender that I almost mistook it for the fish as I put in on my plate. For a moment, I thought of replicating it for our Thanksgiving supper but decided to keep traditional with our beach grill of Hawaiian fish. Instead I have semi-replicated it here at home using Cornish hen; my new favorite roasted bird.

Chicken with root vegetables in foreground.

Chocolate truffles, Maui pineapple and French-presss coffee, a finale:

THE SCENE:

The farm tour concludes with a look at the newly built coffee roasting facility, built by hand using eucalyptus and wattle trees fallen from the property. Again, with great pride, Ansel describes the nuances of coffee production and describes what it takes to go from berry to cup. The coffee can be purchased on-line at ‘āina Gourmet Coffee and Tom (and I) heartily recommend the mokka roast (that we were just drinking today).

coffee roast house ansel

From there, we walk back to the kitchen, wash our hands at the outdoor sink and gather around to plate up our food that is just being laid out upon our arrival.

The wine we brought with us has been kept chilled and brought down to the tables to be opened. Long communal tables made from full slabs of tree are all set with china, glassware and silver. There were three of them nestled under a thatched roof, overlooking the farm, valley below, and of course, the ocean (both the North and South shores). The air is clean, fragrant and warm, but definitely not hot. If you breath in deeply, you can fill your lungs with the mountain air and capture the essence of the land. As you breath out, slowly, actively engaged with the surrounding views, temporarily, you are in a moment of deep zen.

ROSEMARY, LEMON-BRINED CORNISH HENS

I chose cornish hens here because I had been meaning to roast a few after being served a delicious dinner of said-bird at my mother-in-law’s place this past summer. Chef Daniel described what he used for the brine and I translated that description into a more humble scale, suitable for four people rather than 20.

This is delicious served alongside just a simple green salad, or also, give roasted chayote squash a try. The kafir lime leaves infuse a subtle, exotic flavor, but if you have trouble finding them, squeeze over a little extra citrus; either way, you won’t be disappointed with the finished dish.

INGREDIENTS

8 cups water
1/4 cup salt
1/4 cup honey
8 bay leaves
4 TB lemon juice
4 sprigs rosemary
3 sprigs thyme
1 stalk celery
1 tsp toasted corriander seed

2 cornish game hens (preferably organic, pastured hens), lemongrass, kaffir lime-infused oil (simply heat a pan and add a lemongrass stalk with outer shell removed, a few kaffir lime leaves and some coriander seeds. Let warm, then add some grape seed oil to cover, when the oil is warm, turn off the heat and let the flavor infuse).

PREPARE

Bring everything but the hens and the oil to a boil. Turn off the heat and let cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile, cut out the backbone from the hens and cut the birds into two halves, consisting each of breast and leg.

Add the poultry to the brine liquid. Let sit, covered and refrigerated for a minimum of 4 hours (maximum 24 hours).

Drain and pat dry. Put all of the pieces into a stainless steel or glass bowl and cover loosely with paper towels. Let sit overnight refrigerated (to dry further).

Brush with the infused oil and place the pieces in a single layer in a baking pan. Toss a few lime leaves into the pan.

Roast in a pre-heated, 400-degree oven for approximately 45-60 minutes. Turn once or twice during roasting and brush with the pan juices each turn.

When the skin is golden and the meat is cooked through (internal temp should be 165), remove from the oven and let rest for 10 minutes before serving.

TO SERVE:

Squeeze lemon juice over the hens and then squeeze the lime leaves over. Brush with more infused oil and pan drippings. If you like, you can heat the pan drippings with a little white wine plus more lemon juice and use that as a sauce.

Shown with roasted leeks and watermelon radish.

Don’t forget, it is perfectly acceptable to pick up the hens with your hands and be sure to lick the bone. Keep the bones away from your dogs though, as poultry bones can be dangerous to their health.

Always make time for play or contemplation.

Turn up the heat!

18 Saturday Oct 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews, the kitchen

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Aneto, IFBC 2014, Jason Wilson, Lesley Stowe, Miller's Guild, Raincoast Crisps, Soy Vay, Thierry Rautureau, Todd Coleman, tomato soup, wine from Bordeaux

Tomato soup as a spread on bruschetta…Buffalo mozzarella, basil and tomatoes.

I’m addicted to food. I think it is the food. Or, is it the packaging that helps feed my addiction (perhaps both)? And by packaging, I don’t just mean clever graphics, pretty bottles or catchy phrases…necessarily. Sometimes, it is how Nature packages itself up in a pretty little shape, a sexy color, or a little grit. I am addicted to food.

Some people collect shoes. I collect food. I had to think long and hard before spending $10 on a pair of socks last week but didn’t even hesitate to shell out $10.00 for a bag of fresh cranberry beans at a Farmer’s Market. It makes me happy just knowing that I helped an independent farm and that the beans are in my ‘fridge waiting for a delicious plate to land on (whereas those socks, cool as they are, will just end up lost…from each other, and inevitably with a hole in the toe after one wear). Hopefully those cranberry beans won’t still be in my ‘fridge next week, turning brown and growing mold (yet they probably will). This happens sometimes. I let things sit too long. Sometimes because I forget it is there (buried underneath the latest find). Sometimes I am saving it for just the right thing to make, which often occurs to me a little late. Yet sometimes, I just like to buy fancy products, or interesting products, or something unique, ambiguous, or special; as long as it is a food product. Those might sit on my pantry shelf, in my refrigerator or out on display, too precious to open (like a beautifully wrapped gift). Because once opened, it gets used and then it is gone (yet I know, edible things are meant to be consumed). Like those bottles of wine we purchased in Napa Valley well over a decade ago, hand carried home on the plane (because you could do that 15 years ago) and still haven’t drank (which, let’s face it, is the point; to drink them!). There is the obnoxiously large bottle of black truffle pieces packed in oil that I shelled out $50 for thirteen years ago. Yep, still in my pantry (no good to me now, but there they sit, taunting me every time I open the door). Though I may have gotten my $50 worth just by looking at them so many times, contemplating ways in which I would use them…someday!

Sometimes it is the anticipation that brings us the most joy? But now that I am admitting this (to myself), I realize the food is never really gone, the memory will always be there; it is about the experiences (plus sometimes, you can buy more). During a demonstration by Thierry Rautereau at the IFBC 2014 conference, he teased the audience that the “good olive oil”, that we shelled out the “big bucks” for, is not meant to just sit on the counter. In fact, it shouldn’t be on the counter at all (to be destroyed by the heat, “stick it in the fridge at least”). He urged us to put it to use, as he drizzled copious amounts over a beautiful and quick tomato soup. I chuckled to myself and caught a little snicker in Tom’s grin as he looked over at me, knowing that I am guilty of this. The first thing I did when we went home that night (after letting Ginger and Buddy out of course), was to pop open my latest good bottle of olive oil and douse it over some thick, country bread. We washed that down with some wine (yet some of those bottles from Napa are still cradled in our wine fridge), baby steps.

I bought another loaf of bread today. Actually, I bought two. This in addition to the bag of day-old ciabatta buns and the bag of mini potato baguettes. My bread drawer is already full, no room at the Inn(box)! As I transfer the walnut wheat baguette from it’s paper pouch to a wrap of foil, I contemplate freezing it for later use. When I asked the girl behind the counter to get it down so I could take it home, I really couldn’t stop thinking about how it would taste with a trickle of good olive oil and a thin slice of cheese, something sturdy and pungent. Perhaps a little honey too? Or a swath of blueberry conserve, freshly made. I also pictured a smear of white bean dip, dripping with garlic, creamy and white atop the dark, nutty bread, perhaps crowned with a slice of proscuitto (and possibly a fig?). But I am too full now, and dinner is poblano stew. With poblano stew, I need corn tortillas. Warmed over a flame until lightly blistered. I have been hoarding those as well. In fact, I now realize, I might have been hoarding the wrong kind (and they too may have gone bad). Oops.

It might sound as if I have started off-topic (or rambling on as Tom alerted me), but in fact, this topic is precisely the point. I promised I would give a summary of the IFBC conference I “recently” attended (Tom’s procrastination has rubbed off on me it appears), so now, that is what I am going to do, and let’s face it, people willing to fly in from out of state to attend this thing, must also be addicted to food. It appears I am in excellent company.

I bet you all are wondering what it is like to attend a food bloggers conference? Well, of course, assuming you have never actually attended one. I had not attended one before this year and wondered what it would be like myself. I expected, well, I’m not really sure what I expected. So I did what any curious person would do. I Googled it. What to expect. I typed in “what to expect at a food bloggers conference”. Go ahead. Give it a try. Did you find Irvin (here)? Funny stuff. Sadly, this post won’t be as funny. But for that I won’t apologize. He is clearly a funny guy.

And I’m okay with that. What I did not expect, was to walk into a “candy” store for food addicts. It was insane. Insane in a good way?! A lot of wonderful sponsors showcased their food and wares in creative and delicious ways (yes, delicious, they fed us too). There was mention of a swag bag on the website. I didn’t think much of it because, we were there for the speakers and meeting like-minded people, not for the food. But then the swag bag turned out to be a swag room. A ballroom filled with tables of product for the taking. So I now have a swag shelf! I am grateful and excited to try these products (many of which I have never tried). I know how much money and effort those companies put into this so I want to say thanks. Thank you. Each of you. Too many to list here so I want to just highlight some of my favorites, especially those lesser known ones:

“Our friends from Spain“, Aneto, brought each participant a personalized apron. These guys are really cool (and so are the aprons)! They also brought many pounds worth of broth…from Spain(!). This is not just any broth. This is artisan broth, 100% natural, gluten free and from what I can tell, hard to come by (as in sells out fast), pricey but worth the money. We all know that Spain is home of the Paella so how clever to have Paella broth? Even though it surely put them over their weight limit at baggage check.

Tom sporting the 10LitK apron from Aneto.

Soy Vay. Say what? Soy Vay – Toasted Sesame Dressing and Marinade (formally called Cha-Cha Chinese Chicken Salad Dressing). I typically don’t use bottled marinades and dressings. If I do buy them, it is usually to do with the packaging (there it is again), wholesomeness, and perhaps an unusual ingredient or combination. They often end up on my pantry shelf along with those truffles. Last night, however, I decided to give this a try on my salmon prep. There are no preservatives and the ingredients were all familiar to pronounce and not unlike what I might make myself. I was tired. I was hungry and I didn’t want to think too hard. And I am glad I gave it a try. It was delicious as a marinade for the salmon (I also brushed it on my roasted eggplant) and it worked perfectly to dress some cabbage and red grapes that I tossed together for a side salad. I grilled the salmon on a cedar plank and threw fully, non-husked, fresh, sweet corn (from Hunter Farms) directly on the grill. Dinner was delicious (with very little effort).

Lesley Stowe stole my heart with her attention to detail, delectable appetizer pairings and a “cracker” that I can finally get behind. Her specialty food line that boasts the small batch product raincoats crisps, is perfect for entertaining, eating straight from the box or making a mini meal. She and her wonderful staff created a mini party and welcome oasis amongst a multitude of distracting noise.

While I am thanking people, it would be remiss of me not to give a big shout out and bear hug of gratitude to our hosts of this event, Foodista’s Founders, Sheri Wetherell and Barnaby Dorfman! These guys know how to educate, inspire and throw a fabulous party. Thanks guys! We will be back for sure.

Meanwhile, back to the conference; the keynote speakers were the husband and wife team Karen Page and Andy Dornenburg, that delivered a powerfull, inspiring start to the conference. It turned out I own (and really loved reading) their book titled becoming a Chef and will definitely be buying a copy of their new book The Vegetarian Flavor Bible.

No, that’s not Todd making mole…

Hands down though, our favorite speaker was Todd Coleman, previous Executive Food Editor of Saveur magazine, who recently launched a company called Creative Concepts. His talk was on photography. Although self-proclaimed as not actually a photographer per say, he really is (a good photographer and professional Photographer and Creative Director of Todd Coleman Photography). He mostly has tenacity, vision and the ability to do the unexpected intuitively. He doesn’t follow the rules and doesn’t think in a straight line. Doing the unexpected, the un-allowed, even the outrageous, to get a good shot, is how he is able to deliver un-staged (staged) imagery that evoke culinary emotion. My kind of guy. He is also humble, casual and off-the-cuff. I am embarrassed to admit that I actually asked someone to take a picture of us. I NEVER do that. Not even sure why I did. I felt really silly afterwards because that is something I pride myself on NEVER(!) doing.

When I was young, we once had Lee Meriwether (from TV’s Barnaby Jones, as Catwoman on Batman circa 1966, and former Miss America 1955), Robert Reed (from The Brady Bunch) and others…to our house (in Alaska) during a fund-raiser my Mom was putting on for the American Cancer Society. She bought my brother and I each a little “autograph-friendly” stuffed animal that we were to fill up with autographs from all the celebrities that attended. I refused to get mine signed because I didn’t want to look like a groupie. Plus, I thought it was dumb, to have someone’s signature. Who cares? So instead, I stood there next to Todd Coleman and smiled while someone took our picture with my phone. Delete(!). He now classifies me as a groupie, I’m sure. Maybe I should have sent HIM the picture instead of deleting it. How lucky of him to be photographed next to ME? No? I guess not. Silly. In any case, if I ever meet him again, perhaps I will actually have an intelligent conversation about, say, something that he could offer unique insight into, like perhaps, publishing, magazine submittals, what it is like to be an editorial superstar/design visionary. Instead I asked him what kind of camera I should buy. I’m sorry Todd, I really am an intelligent person. Don’t judge me by my (or at least my husband’s) adolescent behavior.

Todd’s words of wisdom:

Abnormal serving.

“Challenge the viewer. Over the top mess…I let the milkshake sit. I did all sorts of things to the chocolate cake after more traditional shots.”

Make friends.

On location one day, Todd was out peaking in windows and saw an old women sitting at her table (stalking with good intention). He went and got a pizza from the restaurant he was shooting (photographs, not bullets) and asked her if he could photograph her with it in her house (hutzpah?)…creative staging!

On another occasion, he was “in a really crappy place. This guy was in here with his son. I just talked to him. I showed interest…I spent an hour taking photos. I was doing a professional photoshot with them and they didn’t even know it was happening; it ran a full page spread.”

Push perspective.

“Get in close with a wide angle lens. Get in really close; push into the food. Don’t worry about getting mole on your camera.”

Have no fear!

“These were some bad-ass dudes. I got the shot and got the hell out. People can get really upset with you. Sometimes it is better not to ask permission.”

With that thought, the above pictures with words of wisdom from Todd, were courtesy of my iPhone taking photos of Todd’s images projected in a poorly-lit conference space and on my iPad taking notes with auto-correct deciphering what I typed. I did not ask permission.

After retrieving my iPhone from the stranger that took the infamous Todd ‘n Me photo and deleting it, it was time for…

...a brief intermission (across the street at chef Jason Wilson’s new(er) restaurant Miller’s Guild – highly recommended).

Back to the conference.

There were several sessions involving social media, something that is definitely not my strong suit, but since I need to make myself stronger in that department, I dutifully attended. What I learned is this. Google+ is (apparently) the cornerstone of social media and we should all be using it. I will be looking into this further. Advice or helpful hints are gratefully welcome if you want to leave me a comment (please?). Seriously though (I am serious), both Tom and I felt that being there was a humanization of living/working in such a virtual world. Meeting face-to-face cannot be traded for tech. Never will! Just like turning a physical page can NOT be traded for scrolling. The virtual world was a little bit humanized by this conference, in that we were all here, together!

Our favorite session was on wines of Bordeaux (apparently this was everyone else’s favorite too; as they were overwhelmed with the unexpected over-attendance). It was informative, interactive (think wine tasting) and fun. Virginia (don’t call her that), AKA: Reggie, Reg, and er, Regina (rhymes with, well, you know) who teaches at South Seattle Community College (ironically located in West Seattle) is definitely someone I would like to tag along with to France. Or South Central, WA, in which we were invited to harvest grapes, but sadly couldn’t attend (blasted day jobs).

T a s t y, and no, that’s not Reggie’s arm.

Tom has a few quick tasting notes:

1. Sparkling Rosé from Bordeaux is…t a s t y (especially in the middle of the day, stuck in a conference room on a gorgeous, sunny Fall day).

2. White wine from Bordeaux is…t a s t y (especially in the middle of the day, stuck in a conference room on a gorgeous, sunny Fall day).

3. Red wine from Bordeaux is… really t a s t y (especially in the middle of the day, stuck in a conference room on a gorgeous, sunny Fall day).

4. In all seriousness, it was informative, interactive (got to get to know your table mates trying to identify scents, easy ones like vanilla, harder citrus and nut ones, and tricky ones like “church pew” (no kidding). Reg is a great educator, clever, funny, a little naughty, someone you would want to take a class from, even if it was calculus. Well, maybe not. But if you had to take calculus, she’s the teacher with the wait list.

PS_Reg
Later that night, the real “tasting” continued.

I will leave you with a little tomato soup disguised as an amuse as demonstrated by Seattle’s entertaining culinary pioneer “The Chef in the Hat”, Thierry Rautureau (see commentary above). He didn’t need to turn up the heat to get the place smoking, because the butter used in his demonstration almost invited the local firemen for lunch. The room, however smokin’ as it was, was F R E E Z I N G. So my/our only request for next year is, TURN UP THE HEAT, please. No smoke required.

Tomato soup with goat cheese quenelle – amuse bouche

Tomato soup with goat cheese quenelle – amuse bouche

INGREDIENTS

1 1/4 lbs fresh tomatoes, rinsed and coarsely diced
2 cloves of garlic – peeled and chopped
A handful of fresh basil, cleaned, dried and sliced
Sea salt to taste
Good quality olive oil
Optional: fresh chèvre for garnish

PREPARE

Heat a sauté pan and add a bit of olive oil. Let it rush around the pan to coat.

Add the tomatoes, followed by the garlic.

Give the pan a toss. Your heat should be on medium.

Let this cook just a few minutes more until the tomatoes begin to soften. Throw in the basil and toss again, cooking another minute.

Mix in sea salt to taste.

Transfer the tomato mixture to a blender or food processor and purée to your desired consistency. For a simple, quick meal, freeze individual portions in Ziploc freezer bags for later use.

TO SERVE (Chef in the Hat style)

Fill martini glasses with chilled soup. Using a spoon form the chèvre into oval (quenelle) shapes and place in the center of the soup. Top with a basil leaf or other sprig of herb.

This is soup is also delicious warmed with a grilled cheese sandwich or spread on grilled bread and topped with soft cheese and herbs.

Grilled cheese and (spilled) tomato soup…

Todd should be proud (abnormal serving + over the top mess)!

To new friends! Doug (& Ron), see you next year?

Tom and I made our finale meal back across the street at Miller’s Guild for (my favorite) fried chicken + egg brunch before I went to my next stop, writing class with Kathleen Flinn.!! Highly recommend!

What a weekend it was!

A Gift of Treasures

08 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in beach mode, Eating Out, Ginger + Buddy

≈ 34 Comments

Tags

dogs on beach, Eaglemount cider, farmed + foraged + fished on island, Loganita farms, Lummi Island, Quinault razor clams, restorative vacation, Taylor Shellfish, Willows Inn

When life gets busy, there is a tempo that begins to increasingly and steadily, rise. We tend to work harder and play less, until, slowly, yet suddenly, we aren’t playing at all. In short order, we drive ourselves to forget what it means to recharge. We forget to feed our inspiration with the sites, with the sounds. Feed our imagination with the tastes and the smells that renew our creative flow; the things that remind us why we keep going in this world. The spectacular, yet mundane things. Things, such as a beautiful vessel, from which to drink, a plate of food, edited to the essentials (the most needed, yet most clearly defined). As you view the world around you, you are present and of the moment noticing: a fence, made entirely of twigs; a sound so splendid, it can only come from that in nature; or you can’t help but stand happily (and stupidly) watching your dogs, sniff every corner of an unfamiliar room or lot before settling into that perfect spot.
Life is about the experiences. Driving down a country lane, the sun drenching our skin, with a soft breeze cooling the sting of it away, we have arrived on-island. We are surrounded by dense evergreen forest that is dappled with rocky hillsides and pastures. The water is sparkling and inviting to our right, and the road is long and welcoming as we forge ahead into an adventurous unknown (to us). It has been far too long since we have gotten away.

Pouring a cocktail into an unfamiliar glass, while sitting on a deck that overlooks the water, we breath in. Sipping that drink as bald eagles glide effortlessly overhead, we smile, and toast “us4”, but not before toasting Paula and Jeff for having the incredible instinct and huge heart to offer us a splendid and most generous, restorative gift.

My husband came home, several months ago (has it been that long?) with a piece of paper announcing the opening dining season of The Willows Inn on Lummi Island. On the paper, was a handwritten note asking us to pick a day to get up there, on them (Paula & Jeff). I couldn’t believe what I saw. For those of you that don’t know about Blaine Wetzel, the young chef who grew up in the Northwest and came home after tutelage under Rene Redzepi of Noma, you need to look him up. He has helped form a true treasure on Lummi Island as a partner at The Willows Inn. Unpretentious and real, The Willows Inn captures time, slowed to the perfect pace. Unlike other restaurants of the same ilk, drawing travelers from all over the world, this is a place that honors the casual, spectacular NW setting which surrounds it and leaves all the pretension where it belongs – nowhere to be found.

This is a “bucket list” dining experience; one I had been longing to try. Now I do in-fact realize this was meant to restore my husband, after working under high-pressure and much stress (but he loves it) alongside Paula and Jeff (who are under far more high-pressure and stress), but here I was though, a ridiculously-happy bystander who also benefited from their generous gift. Paula is thoughtful that way though; she knows we love to eat and are crazy for especially good food. She knows we wallow in the minutest of details (and allowing without criticism, for Tom to photograph all meals and menus on business travel to share with me) and that we appreciate the whole experience from anticipation to culmination…
…and she knows and appreciates that we prefer to be in the company of Ginger and Buddy too.

So only two hours, including a ten minute ferry ride, from our front door, we checked in at reception, collected our room key/lay of the land before popping our head into the Taproot (immediately adjacent to the front steps) to see what the little breakfast spot would hold for us in the morning. The grotto-esque space was rustic romantic with a small area for sitting; eating or mindless contemplation. The cold case was filled with bottles, jars and tidbits that required further exploration and purchase prior to our departure the next day. The pastry case, well… the pastry case, oh my. I was intoxicated by the baked goods, when I am usually not even that enticed by a case full of baked goods; no offense to the goods that are baked. I am typically a partaker in the meatier offerings instead. However, this particular case had me stunned. I wanted to purchase each one (the goods, not the case). The buttermilk biscuits called out to me most of all (Tom’s eye was on the glazed buns). Never had I seen biscuits so fluffy and golden and perfect. So perfect in fact, I made up my mind; I would purchase a dozen to bring home (for Paula and Jeff) and a few extras for ourselves. The friendly chap behind the counter said they were the best he had ever had. My gut instinct was to take them away right then, but I was assured there would be plenty to last through the next day. The moral of this story is to always follow your gut instinct; the next morning, there were none to be found.

We resisted (sadly, it turned out) buying anything that day, but did ask for a bucket of ice before departing to walk up the path, through the bocci ball court, to our cottage. It was tucked up away from the main lodge with a large, wildly-landscaped front yard and steps up to an old-fashioned front porch the length of the structure. Inside from the full-length porch was a small sitting area with a wood stove, a wet bar hosting tasty amenities for purchase, and a fluffy queen size bed beyond. The bathroom had a claw-foot tub, and although rather small, was welcoming and quaint, with lovely organic soaps/lotions. We loved it all, and perfect for island living.
Being overly cautious (per usual) about having all the comforts we might need, our car was emptied of it’s contents, including our spontaneously-packed sack full of snacks (read: quickly thrown in random cheeses/crackers/veggies from the ‘fridge) to enjoy with our gin and tonic before cocktails and dinner at the Inn. A fresh piece of mint and lemon verbena were a welcome addition to our drinks (freshly-foraged just steps from our front door).
Buddy and Ginger were amply rewarded as well. They sipped water al fresco while sniffing out vermin (none sniffed, or at least none were caught, except themselves). They then dined on raw bison (foraged from our freezer and released into their clever new travel bowls) before tucking in for the night, awaiting our return from dinner.On arrival, happy pups? Quite (and yes, they are stuck, tethered together, yet don’t seem to care).
Anticipation mounted as the air filled with an essence of wood-fired food, mysteriously smoking behind the door to a small little shed.

We made our way to the bar where we were greeted with sunshine and graciousness. I ordered the Spotted Owl, a gin, douglas fir + nettles concoction.
It was a beautiful shade of green, refreshingly balanced and textured just perfectly by fluffed egg white.
Tom had the woodruff martini, refreshing as well, and the best vodka martini he’s ever had (which says a lot as he’s a gin drinker).

A nibble of fresh turnip, roasted carrots and slices of rhubarb dusted in verbena sugar were a nice foil to translucent sheets of cured pork cheek to nibble with our drinks.

Part of the experience comes not only from the food but from the cast of characters as well as the scene, so we couldn’t help but notice the people who occupied the other tables and the staff as they came out and went inside (and of course, I had to peak into the kitchen). The deck where we were sitting was one that could be amped up with more character but the setting and view, undeniably divine. The sun was unseasonably warm that night, which made the cocktail that much more refreshing. Most of the others were quiet as if something audible other than a whisper would disrupt the hum of the nature we could all feel. There was one couple seated near us that were friendly and chatty; the man reminded me of someone I knew. We found out it was their 40th anniversary, which made me smile and begin to imagine what their life together had been like when they were young. It is our 16th wedding anniversary just one week later from this adventure. Happy anniversary LoveBug (21 years together… if you’re still counting)!

As they began to seat people for dinner at 6:30, Tom and I happily sipped on a glass of sparkling rosé and took in our surroundings as we wandered to the wooded shade. We were the last to be sat, which was fine with us since we like to draw out our meals. Once seated, a cool glass of hard cider was poured (Eaglemount semi-sweet, from Port Townsend, WA) and while this is something I would not have thought to order myself, it was the perfect accompaniment to a series of “snacks” that began arriving, one after the other, yet appropriately timed.

First came the single, pristine mussel, billowing essence of smoke and presenting itself in a wooden box, under lid as if a small gift of jewelry. This was followed by a shiitake mushroom, roasted over fire, completing the flavor left from the delicate mussel. Oops, already gone before a shot was fired.

Salmon roe crêpe rolls were cleverly plated over a nestle of straw as if awaiting incubation in our mouths; flavor exploded and we were eager for more. Next, momentarily transferred to a beach haven, we nibbled black truffle “mollusks” from crispy kale leaves and sucked on rolled halibut skin, filled with a most clever concoction of halibut mousse and Manila clams sprinkled with seaweed. This was like eating delicate truffle brittle kissed by the ocean.The white cone is made from the skin of the belly, the dark is made from skin of the back.

Whew… this was already better than the French Laundry and our “first” menued course, had yet to begin. The dining room was cozy, yet vibrant from the transporting of treasures from kitchen to table by the handsome staff donning rigid, but beautiful, hand-crafted heavy leather aprons (poor souls in the heat) and sincere smiles. The evening was so warm though, that we longed to be dining outside. However improbable, our perfect evening, escalated exponentially when we were granted permission to continue our meal on the deck. It was our own private dining room for two in the woods, overlooking the water at sunset, magical.

We chose the wine pairing menu which turned out to be wise; the bottle is left at your table or more is brought if you are needing of more. After the hard cider came a refreshing pinot blanc by Ross Andrew of Walla Walla, to kick off our meal (as if we hadn’t already a frolicking start). First came delicate scallops with horseradish in cream, then roasted sunflower root with a silken, sweet onion purée for which to dip.
The grilled mustard greens sported herring row on kelp from the beach; an artful display.
The spot prawns, poached in their roe were succulent and cleansing after sipping the last of our wine just in time to switch gears.

Next up was an IPA from Boundary Bay (in nearby Bellingham, WA), a welcome partner to the next course of smoked fish.Tom had been anticipating this course all day, visions of that smokehouse billowing in his head (and clearly dove in early).

There was smoked black cod and of course, smoked salmon from off-shore. The pristine quality, sustainable fishing methods and locality of the fish make for an ethereal treat. The perfect combination of smoke, succulence and sea are a product of the thoughtfulness put into every detail and result in what, we think, is the best smoked fish ever produced.

The same pristine quality applies to everything served, but this becomes especially evident when we get into raw meat. Being a big fan of tartare, it was to my pleasant surprise to receive a bowl full of venison tartare served alongside rye crisps and wild lettuces.

We enjoyed them with the last of our IPA, the sunset, and the changing of the guard to Cameron “Abbey Ridge” Pinot Noir from Oregon.

Welcome, my dear friend Porcini. So thinly sliced and bathed in a broth of itself, so delicate, mild and flavorful. Regardless of Tom’s affinity (or lack thereof, and he loved it) to mushrooms, this elegantly humble dish was a comforting end to the raw meeeet of the tartare.
<Loving the sun on the water, our table, the wonderful staff, and the jealous guests.

In sneaks a razor clam, roasted over fire and changing our pre-conception of a tough muscle that won’t yield to our palette. This meaty delicacy harvested from Quinault, WA, is a sweet morsel that was roasted to perfection, leaving us with a memory of happy discovery.

Bread is now served, where it should be served, alongside a shallow, glazed pottery dish of fresh butter and (Tom’s favorite) another of pan drippings of roasted chicken, near the end of meal, to sop up the alcohol slightly and cleanse for the pure, grass-fed lamb topped with fresh grasses, soon to come. The grains are from island and the bread is a revelation rather than just filler.
With the bread on the table, our lamb (one of my favorite meats) was then served and the earthy purity of flavor was both a light and satisfying end to the savory foods for the night.

but wait…
…the night is still young. The final wine was a late harvest Riesling, Brooks ‘Tethys’ from Eola-Amity Hills, Oregon. Not a “typical” fan of dessert, the next dish set in front of us was exploding in color, flavor and scent. The best dessert ever (period).

Salmon berries with rosé granita and edible rose petals.
I savored each, delightfully aromatic and magical bite.
With our steaming cappuccino, hazelnut and chestnut gelato slipped easily down.
…but wait, there’s more, flaxseed… caramels, DIVINE!
How high the moon?

Back at the “ranch” (cottage), two little bears, were sleeping. Buddy awoke, the outhouse was needed.“I think I can”.

Sometimes it is the very things that happen to you that end up happening in your favor. Take the biscuits, now I wanted one I surely did. I dreamt of them and can still picture that spectacular case displaying them alongside the most lustrous of scones. I wanted them but knew they needed to wait until morning. Morning came, and went; we lingered and enjoyed the view, the coffee, our company, our solace.

Without the biscuit(s), we still enjoyed a beautiful and memorable morning… cappuccino, sticky bun, water view and sun… Paula and Jeff, you can thank Kimberly for the baked goods since the biscuits were AWOL. We promise you some when we come back for more!

Then off to the beach to spend more memorable time before heading “down the road”, back to our busy lives. Down by the water, there is something about walking over rocks, driftwood and sand, along beachside, that brings us alive. Buddy and Ginger, who walk slowly beside us at home, roam free, prancing quickly ahead, sniffing, looking, feeling; life is grand.

We are rejuvenated, not only us but Ginger and Buddy as well. Buddy came home rested with rekindled orneriness that hasn’t been kindled in over a year; he is tip-toeing through the tulips (which in our yard is only grass). He is well-rested, he is onfire. Tonight, he is virile and alive!! Spit and vinegar, happy as a clam. Pouncing, barking, he is sniffing feverishly at our surroundings and keenly aware of all the passers-by, butterfly, spider, strolling dogs… neighbors, stangers, friends. There is something about Buddy…

A big thanks to Raquel, Phaedra, Britney, Ashley, Nick, Kimberly, Blaine, and whomever we mis-named or did not know their names that were part of the wonderful crew at The Willows Inn (it was an overwhelming experience).

Of course, a most extra-special thanks to Paula and Jeff (+ sweet pooch Coach); we still owe you duck (though it will not be Willows Inn, but a wild yard and critters awaits).
And without saying, there is something about Ginger too. Until next time, the (blissful) end.

Serving time

27 Sunday Apr 2014

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Ginger + Buddy, the kitchen

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

Clams & mussels, dogs, food, Looking Good dog grooming, service

When I started out, working at my grandparent’s restaurant at the age of twelve, I knew it was all about service. Speed, I quickly learned, also played an important part, as did efficiency, multi-tasking, product knowledge and stamina, but even more important was courtesy, compassion and a passion for your job. It is a combination of these (and other) components that provide great service.

So, I am always rather amazed that in a city such as Seattle, with as many good food eateries as there are, that there are so few servers actually providing good service (let alone great service). Having visited some great haunts in Chicago, San Francisco and New York, there is a different “professional” server that you don’t see often here, especially in a neighborhood establishment. Trust me, we had some bad experiences in those towns too (mostly at “the fancy” places; it is often the “real spots” that always shine through). Here, there are definitely some good servers, great ones even, and by no means am I saying that they are mostly poor at providing good service in Seattle, not true, but it is true that this city lacks the really professional service that leaves you feeling that you have been taken care of thoroughly, without judgement, and in a courteous, helpful and efficient manner, without a pause.

Tonight, as a follow up post to Ginger and Buddy’s spa day, I wanted to quickly show pictures of them sporting their de-clacked, coiffed and dapper selves. I will of course show you the pictures rather than state the obvious (you can see they are “looking good”).

Buddy is a little sleepy on the way home…

…but minutes before, had a spring in his step.

Later, at home, Ginger acting a little aloof (and groggy) but feeling and looking good. That is Buddy’s blue handkerchief, sleeping in the background.

Buddy sure was cute awake too.

As for the copy, I decided to write about service instead. Service is a field most of us are in (somehow, someway) yet the level of service we receive these days seems to have gone downhill (at least to me). I feel it is improving yet again, but old fashioned, old school service seems a way of the past as people try to do things cheaper, faster and with less effort.

Perhaps, that is why seeing the genuine thing makes me stop, pause and feel ferociously loyal. Victoria, for those who haven’t read this has been a part of our lives (Bufffy, Ginger, Buddy, Tom and I) for over 20 years. We drive over an hour (one way) out of our way, to bring our beloved dogs to her for grooming. We do this because we couldn’t imagine taking them somewhere else, to anyone else; service (and all this entails, no pun intended)!

Wednesday night, on the way home from “Looking Good“, we stopped at Bastille for a bite to eat.

This has become one of Tom and my favorite spots to eat when in “the hood”. The food has always been great (with the exception of our pork belly last August, but Wednesday night proved this as an anomaly). The service has always been pleasant and on-point; that night though, the service was exceptional (which is something that I don’t say lightly; I am a picky one, it’s true). We arrived just under the wire for Happy Hour and ordered our usual, two French 75’s followed quickly, very quickly, by two more, mussels + frites, the Bastille burger, new and improved pork belly accompanied by a carafe (yep, old school) of red wine (which BTW is always worthy of the meal and I am still a picky one, so take note).

Our server (Rachel), was without pause, hesitation or mis-timing on any of her moves, a true gem at every turn. Without getting too lengthy on the details, I would just like to say, thanks Rachel for doing your job well and with heart.

Rachel at another table.

Knowledgable + helpful…

…passionate.

Speaking of passion and compassion, don’t worry, we always check up on our pups during dinner.

Also, a big shout out to you Victoria, from Loooking Good in Ballard, for all that you do, not just for Ginger and Buddy, but for all the little critters that you take into your shop and care for with courtesy and compassion… we know you are passionate about what you do, and for that we are thankful.

Victoria and Buddy in such a furry flurry, the photo couldn’t help but turn out blurry!

Clams & Mussels with Spanish influence (I know, not French)

As the months become warmer, the shellfish becomes more fragile. Dinner at Bastille, reminded us how delicious a bowl of mussels, filled with a delectable broth for sopping, can be as an easy weekday seafood fix (enhanced notably by the perfect frites). So, flavors completely different and a bit heartier than those from Bastille (plus the mix in of clams), I give you this dish that I threw together one night during the, not-so-distant winter (honey mussels were still in season). I will be making it again soon (with a different variety of mussel) before summer comes full on and our waters become warm.

INGREDIENTS

3/4 lbs each, clams & mussels, rinsed (mussels de-bearded)
3 slices thick-cut bacon, cut into 1/4″ slices
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 poblano chili, slightly charred, seed and stem removed, chopped
1/2 Anaheim chili, chopped
1 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1 1/2 tsp cumin
2 tomatillo, diced
1 tomato or a handful of grape tomatoes, diced
Juice of 1/2 lime
1 cup Prosecco
2 TB sour cream
1/4 cup chopped green onion
Your appetite

Garnish: warm tortillas, cilantro

COOK

In a large sauté pan, put the cut bacon into the pan and turn to medium heat. When cooked through and beginning to crisp, add the garlic and both chilies. After a minute or so, add the paprika, cumin, tomatillo and tomato. Toss the pan a bit then add in the clams and mussels.

Squeeze in the lime juice then pour in the prosecco. The pan will want to recuperate from these additions to regain it’s heat; once simmering, cover the pan and let it simmer for 4-5 minutes or until the shells begin to open. The clams will cook more quickly than the mussels so as they open, remove them to a bowl with tongs. Remove the mussels as they open too.

Turn up the heat on the remaining sauce and add the green onions and sour cream. After a minute or two, the sauce will thicken slightly. Add the shellfish back into the sauce to heat through, then divide the mixture amongst individual bowls. Serve with warm tortillas and garnish with cilantro.

Can’t wait ’til the summer months when we will be eating outside at Bastille.

…rather than inside.

Although, inside is cozy too.

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~ Food. Dogs. Life!

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Serving time