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10 Legs in the Kitchen

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10 Legs in the Kitchen

Tag Archives: Willows Inn

The second act

22 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Eating Out, Reviews

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Willows Inn

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

amouse with menu

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Warming up after the romp in the sand.

 

 

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

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blaine.jpg…the best meals of our lives!

Imagine if…

17 Sunday May 2015

Posted by Stacey Bender in Ginger + Buddy, the kitchen

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Blaine Wetzel, Los Artistas, Posole, Raquel Ruiz Diaz, Willows Inn

PS_posole 3

Life is moving along, happily.  Hard work has gone into this happy.  This happy moves subconsciously some days and fully consciously the next.

There is love.

There is life.

There is food.

There is hard work but, most importantly, there is love of life.  And food; Big love of food!

Love happens and life happens and everything is better than fine… until it’s not fine!

Accident’s happen.  Do they happen to us?  If not to us, to whom?  We are all so fragile and at risk.  It is a good thing that we don’t all live life with this thought in mind… always in our minds.

It is something that does pass, ever so nonchalantly, though our thoughts when we hear about the news or come across a situation that rattles us yet leaving us unscathed.

I am a deep thinker, so I do have thoughts of mortality and immortality, somewhat often.  I am thankful to be alive and yet I am most thankful when reminded, yet again, how fragile life really is.

This post is about thoughtfulness of life.  Other people’s lives… who might need people to be thoughtful, of them.

It primarily has to do with two women I have met only once.  One is Raquel Ruiz Diaz, the life-partner of Chef Blaine Wetzel of Willows Inn.  Raquel was charismatic and delightful on the night we dined there a year ago.  She brought us our food, our drink, relocated us to the perfect table for a warm Spring night, and her compassion, plus enthusiasm of all that the Willow’s Inn bestowed upon all of us lucky diners.

Unfortunately, the beginning of this dining season, she is holding court from a hospital bed in South America.  Charming as I’m sure she still is, this is not the place neither she nor Blaine expected they would be on this glorious day of May.

During the winter break on a visit home to her family in Paraguay, she was struck down by a drunk driver (who fled) during a run and was left with…a long road ahead.

Raquel was uninsured due to a technicality.  She luckily, survived and is now, thanks to the love and support of a vast community, mostly going to be okay.  Her recovery though, will be long.

More love and support are needed (and more money is welcome)!

I know first-hand how much change a health issue bestows; it significantly alters one’s world and that of their loved ones, and I am asking those that I know or who are reading this post, to consider helping her cause.  Help by sending well-wishes, getting the word out, or by donating yourself here.

Equally disturbing, and on a very familial note, my sister-in-law Irma, has had such a traumatic experience with her family as well.  Quite upsettingly, her situation does not have the foreseen positive outcome as Raquel’s.  Clara is living with quadriplegia after being gunned down by hoodlums on their Mexican ranch last year.  Despite being transported across the country to better hospitals and with many surgeries behind her, the prognosis is eternal paralysis.

PS_irma clara

Again, I ask you to imagine, what if… ?

This could happen to any one of us in the blink of an eye!

I think of this today as Irma was sharing me photos of her making Pozole with my nephews in the background, and after reading the recent newsletter from Willow’s Inn and checking in on Raquel’s situation via the internet.  The long road ahead for her coincides with an amazing award for her Blaine.  He has won, yet another, James Beard award for his (their) efforts.  While he might feel delight and accomplishment in the attainment, I would bet that he also feels… well, who am I to say what he feels?  I just know, he would have preferred to have Raquel with him to share this achievement.

There has been a huge reach out from the community at large from all over the world; a pretty amazing thing in itself!

If for no other reason than one of sheer hedonistic desire (on my part) to see her in person, once again, sharing her charm and bringing us a wonderful experience at the Willows Inn, I ask you to donate to her cause.  Or, get the word out that this is a cause worthy of donation!  I have very little blog bandwidth but those of you that do can help to message her needs.

And to this, I offer a personal thought about my sister-in-law, Irma!  Irma’s sister is someone that was (and still is) full of life.  She always will be in my mind as I remember her during the one occasion at which we met; in Ajjijic, Mexico, at the christening of my nephew Alex, followed by a fiesta at my Dad and Linda’s bed and breakfast, Los Artistas.

DSC01199The backyard on that lazy afternoon before the fiesta.

For Raquel and Blaine, and with love for my sister’s dear Cardona family, I offer Irma’s Pozole and hope you will enjoy our passion for food, friends and family.

hominy 2

Irma starts with fresh hominy (which I was recently lucky enough to source in Arizona while visiting my Mom).  I found it to be superior over dried hominy but either will work.  If using dried hominy, it will take a bit longer to cook (add 2 hours to the cooking time before adding the meat, or if using a pressure cooker, consider cooking it for 30 minutes before adding the meat).

Irma makes hers in a pot over the stove-top; long, fragrant cooking.  Since pressed for time, I made mine in a pressure cooker which finishes in about an hour from start to finish.

I cooked my fresh hominy for 15 minutes on high-pressure using the whole 35oz bag plus 8 cups of water.  I then added 2 lb boneless, country style pork ribs,  1 chopped onion, 6 cloves of peeled, chopped garlic, 1 tsp salt, 1 tsp cumin, 1 tsp dry oregano and 1 cup freshly-made tomatillo salsa.  I turned the pressure cooker to high heat and cooked for 20 minutes.  I then added the juice of three limes and fresh pepper to taste, plus about 1/2 tsp more salt.

This concoction will thicken overnight and the quantity of liquid can be adjusted to your liking by adding more, or by simmering it down to have less.  I don’t cut my pork into pieces, but rather let it cook to the point of shredding tender, which may not necessarily be best, but Tom likes it.

The condiments for this stew are as important as the stew itself.  Present bowls of the stew already garnished, or set out the garnishes on a platter with bowls for guests to decorate their own.

My must-have garnishes include:

Green cabbage, cilantro, radish, green onion, lime wedges, avocado and peanuts.  Sour cream is a weakness of mine as well, so mine got a big dollop of that.

PS3_Irma posole

Irma’s Pozole (as written by Irma Cardona Edwards)

Hola!

I recommend to clean the hominy really well and boil in enough water to cover by double for an hour, at first without the meat.  Cut the meat in pieces and put it together with the hominy to cook until it is tender (another 45 minutes).  As you add the meat, you add peppercorns, oregano, onion cut into 1/4’s, and a whole head of garlic, plus salt (enough to make the water taste, not quite as potent, as the sea, 2 tsp).  I like my pozole like soup so I add more water to cover well as it simmers.

You can make your own green or red salsa and mix it all together into the simmering pot till is cook, or just put it on the side; it is up to you, I like it both ways.

Chop some cilantro, onions, Serrano pepper, radish and some green cabbage; you can add some slices of avocado if you want, and some lime!

Personally I like red pozole, I make my salsa with some dried red chillis, roast everything in the stove, red tomatoes, garlic and onion, then blended all together add salt and oregano, after blended you fry in a pan with a little oil.

You can serve white pozole and add the red salsa on the top or you can add the whole salsa to the pot of pozole when it is cooking!

Green salsa – use tomatillos and green Hatch peppers or any other long, green chile, garlic and onion, but in this case you boil everything and blend in with the water you boil with.

Gracias mi hermana Irma!

Buddy in bed

And most dear to my heart, yet on the subject of personal sadness, well-wishes and doing good, might I be so bold as to send out to the universe, our plea to let Buddy stay with us a little (uh, a lot) longer; his little brain needs to trump his little body, his work here is not done!

We love you baby boy!

buddy sunshineIt’s a beautiful day… keep chasing the sun!!!

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

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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.
20140607-104058.jpg 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…
20140607-084942.jpg…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.20140607-092637.jpg
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). 20140606-193233.jpg
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.20140608-111944.jpgOn arrival, happy pups? Quite (and yes, they are stuck, tethered together, yet don’t seem to care).
20140607-094358.jpgAnticipation 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.
20140608-113247.jpgIt was a beautiful shade of green, refreshingly balanced and textured just perfectly by fluffed egg white.
20140607-183641.jpgTom 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).

20140608-113437.jpgA 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)!20140606-191106.jpg

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. 20140608-113534.jpg
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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. 20140607-092916.jpgOops, already gone before a shot was fired.

20140607-095053.jpgSalmon 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. 20140607-095456.jpg This was like eating delicate truffle brittle kissed by the ocean.20140607-095655.jpgThe 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). 20140607-103841.jpg First came delicate scallops with horseradish in cream, then roasted sunflower root with a silken, sweet onion purée for which to dip. 20140607-103639.jpg20140607-103650.jpg
The grilled mustard greens sported herring row on kelp from the beach; an artful display.20140607-161506.jpg
The spot prawns, poached in their roe were succulent and cleansing after sipping the last of our wine just in time to switch gears.20140607-105056.jpg

20140607-103053.jpgNext up was an IPA from Boundary Bay (in nearby Bellingham, WA), a welcome partner to the next course of smoked fish.20140607-105343.jpgTom 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.
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20140607-164813.jpgThe 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.
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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.20140607-142000.jpg

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. 20140607-142450.jpg
<20140607-110542.jpgLoving the sun on the water, our table, the wonderful staff, and the jealous guests.

20140607-143709.jpgIn 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.20140607-143805.jpg

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. 20140607-144735.jpg
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.
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20140608-112629.jpgbut wait…
20140607-145509.jpg…the night is still young.20140607-145633.jpg 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).
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Salmon berries with rosé granita and edible rose petals.
20140607-145730.jpgI savored each, delightfully aromatic and magical bite.
20140607-150003.jpgWith our steaming cappuccino, hazelnut and chestnut gelato slipped easily down.
20140607-151833.jpg …but wait, there’s more, flaxseed… caramels, DIVINE!
20140607-165342.jpgHow high the moon?

Back at the “ranch” (cottage), two little bears, were sleeping. Buddy awoke, the outhouse was needed.20140607-165253.jpg“I think I can”.

20140607-153033.jpgSometimes 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. 20140607-181555.jpg20140607-181612.jpg

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).20140608-111906.jpg

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).
20140607-180537.jpgAnd without saying, there is something about Ginger too. Until next time, the (blissful) end.

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