Oh boy, we have a Zip's!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

My my, how far my hometown has come. We have managed to grow a Zip's on the corner overlooking the concrete river. A chain burger joint in Colfax? Never thought I'd seen the day--and boy it was a long time coming, I didn't think they were ever going to open!--but I'm darned grateful.

Granted, I can no longer partake of the buckets of potato gems or sample from the counterful of pumps offering diners their choice of tartar, fry sauce and ketchup. Sigh. I have to content myself with a $2.99 bacon cheeseburger sans bun. Hey, that's good enough. It's a decent price for a quick meal. Does it compare to Carl Jr's $4.66 low carb burger? Heck no. But it's also a mere five minutes from home and better on my budget, so I wouldn't say no to Zip's burger.

I hope someday the local joint sees fit to add breakfast to its repertoire. We need more options in the morning. But for the moment? I'm happy.

Go Zip's.

Scratch and the itch for legs & lingua

I have been treating my swellingly pregnant sister to gourmet meals for months. In exchange, she has tolerated my foodie tendency toward the bizarre with grim resolve, but upon the occasion of our excursion to Scratch she shuddered and forbade me to gush excessively about my meal. Why?

Because I'd gone to Scratch with a single goal: consume tongue.

My sister was disgusted.

Her discomfort was exacerbated when I also ordered a frog leg appetizer. Her pregnant tendency toward nausea allowed her to humor my whims only to a point.

But we ended up having a great time, for the most part. We arrived early enough to be the first dinner diners and had our seating area all to ourselves for a good chunk of time. The decor is very modern: black, white, red, metal and glass. It's not calming or warming, but it is stylish. The waiter was knowledgeable and helpful in accommodating our gluten troubles.

The only drawback in our mealtime was being seated so very close to adjacent tables. My sister and I both felt uncomfortably meshed into others' conversations against our and their own will. Perhaps this cramped seating appeals to some. It doesn't work brilliantly for me, but it wouldn't keep me from returning to this fine restaurant.

Because my meal was terrific. It turns out: I love tongue. It was so buttery and tender it nearly melted in my mouth. I wanted to sing to the heavens of its wondrous texture and perfect beef flavor. My sister would hear none of it. Likewise, she wanted to hear few details about the hot, spicy chewy frog legs that comprised my appetizer. Although I wouldn't necessarily order the legs again, it was fun to give something novel a try. The tongue I would order again in a cheerful heartbeat.

Scratch serves up winning cuisine. Be warned, though, that it charges heavily for its gourmet fare. Still, I think it's worth it. I hope to return again as soon as my sister shrugs off her nausea and can share in my celebration of tongue love.

~L

The Blissful Flavor of Health - Spokane's Sante

Sometimes you simply stumble upon something so delicious and life-giving that it takes your breath and leaves you giddy. My happening upon Sante was one of those instances. My mother had read about the new restaurant in the Spokesman and wanted to visit. I was hesitant. My food budget of late has been stretched nearly to the breaking point. Still, if mother was intrigued and was buying, I was up to the meal.

We pulled up and parked on the street, dropping a quarter for every 13 minutes of time. The restaurant at mid-day was sparsely populated, so we were given a happy table adjacent to the lovely long bank of windows at the restaurant's front. The lower halves of the panes are frosted so you don't have to gaze upon the grimy sidewalk and can instead focus on passersby and the buildings clustered on Main across from Auntie's. It is an interesting view even if it is a bit commercial and gritty.

The interior decor is simply and artsy, with an array of paintings livening up one wall. The high ceiling is fascinating with its beige-painted array of undisguised pipes and utilitarian tubing. The lighting is more than adequate as an accompaniment to the sunshine spilling through the generous windows. In the background, a Gonzaga classical station provides soothing music for your meal. The tables and floor are (seemingly matching) dark polished wood. The thick water glasses are intriguingly curvaceous at the top; and Sante kindly leaves a chilled water flask at your table in case your thirst remains unquenced.

The single page parchment menu was simple and brief. I would happily have ordered the Kobe burger, but the waitress planted the idea of the day's special--steak and eggs--and both my mother and I were sold. She ordered an apple cider to accompany her breakfast while I requested mint tea.

The tea arrived in a charmingly wide white mug, a silken pyramid of leaves steeping in its depths. It was fragrant and lovely and tasted of peppermint heaven. (An aside: the brand was Tea Forte. I was so enraptured by it I actually bought the remainder of the box to take home.) This should have prepared me for my meal, but I was still a little wary. It was difficult for me to believe true gourmet delights could be found so close to my favorite bookstore. Life is never that perfect.

But sometimes it is. The steak and eggs arrived with a blessedly sharp knife. I tucked into them with quivering hope. Ohhh, the eggs were perfect: golden liquid yolks and perfectly scrumptious whites. Even better was Sante's tenderloin steak. Frankly, I rarely enjoy steak. It was a big gamble for me to order it. I am so very glad I did. This was the best steak I've had in decades, surpassing even the delicious meat I enjoyed at Wild Safe. Pink inside and wonderfully brown without, it was tender and juicy. Every luscious bite was luscious satisfied. If this is an example of its meat preparation skills, Sante absolutely deserves its designation as a charcuterie.

Can I sigh in melodramatic delirium yet? This restaurant is dedicated to local and organic fare whenever possible, it cooks these delectables beautifully and it is twinned with Spokane's finest bookstore and game market. I am overcome with joy. My foodie heart could just burst.

Sante Restaurant and Charcuterie is splendid. My only regret is that my sister was not there to partake of the magnificent steak. This, however, will soon be rectified. I plan to get her up there asap. This foodie destination is absolutely not to be missed.

So Jazzed,
~L

(Notes: Sante means health in French. A charcuterie specializes in the preparation of meat.)

Luna lush & chill

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

I wanted to have a mad, beautiful romance with Luna. I expected to fall in love at first taste and to spiral further into obsession with every subsequent bite.

Things did not work out as I expected.

To elaborate: Sister and I ventured there this past summer, winding our way up the back road from 195 to the outer edge of Spokane's south hill. Luna's lovely greenery and ornate fencing charmed me immediately. The entryway was both folksy and artful with fresh greenery and a nearby wall scrawled with line art. The kitchen, complete with gleaming stainless steel stoves, is easily viewable from the entry which is an unusual and nice touch. It made me feel more connected to the process of meal-making than I do at most establishments.

The kind hostess lead us to a generously lengthy marble table. All such tables are situated next to large windows that offer a clear view to the well-tended flora that decorates the restaurant. The interior is both stylish and organic in feel: lovely lighting, plenty of sunshine flowing through windows, abundant displays of fresh plants. I would give the decor an A+.

The menu is not extensive, but it does offer options even for the picky gluten-intolerant likes of me. Pregnant sister ordered salmon and panna cotta. I ordered a hamburger and coffee. It took ample time for our food to arrive, so I was ravenous when it was finally placed before me. It was not the seduction of flavor and texture I'd dreamed of, but it was okay. The salad that accompanied it was, likewise, okay. For the calories consumed, I'd probably have opted for something else if I could take the choice back.

Sister did like the flavor of her salmon, but could not eat it because it was rather undercooked and she--big cowardly weeny--refuses to have anything to do with undercooked seafood. (I, on the other hand, devour it with gusto.) She did, however, quite enjoy her panna cotta.

So overall? Decor stellar, food a bit of a meh.

I assumed it was my poor ordering choice that brought such puzzling results, so when an unexpected medical problem had me racing up to Spokane on a Saturday morning I took the opportunity to visit Luna during the serving of brunch. Since I'd read such marvelous things about this brunch--among the best breakfasts in town according to some--I was eager indeed. My Dad came with me.

Luna was lovely as ever. It was also incredibly chilly inside. And while the hostess/waitress was very kind, it took nearly forever for our simple eggs, bacon & sausage breakfasts to arrive. I'm not sure if we were forgotten. (We were the first customers to show up, but several other diners had their meals well before we saw our plates. Perhaps a glitch?) In any case, I was nearly starving by the time my food came. I am well acquainted with many a restaurant's over-easy eggs. These were adequate at best. The sausage was a tiny patty with far too much sweetener and too little spice. The bacon was the only remarkable part of the meal. Similar to ham, it was much leaner and wider than typical bacon slices. Quite tasty indeed--I'd order it again.

But not from Luna.

For to Luna, I will not be venturing again anytime soon. It is so very lovely, but I am a Foodie first and foremost; and the food at Luna doesn't mesh well with my palate. Perhaps those who can consume grains fare better at this restaurant.

I am saddened. Such a great atmosphere is best paired with delightful food. Ahh well. I suppose it is possible I managed to visit on two rare off days. Even so, there are so many terrific places to eat in Spokane (including Luna's sibling restaurant Cafe Marron) that I don't see a need to return to this one.

Maybe in a few years.

Strange Love: The Tale of Breakfast at Carl's Jr

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

I am a Foodie and a girl dedicated to the locavore/organic philosophy. I'm also a fiercely carb-conscious eater out of necessity. These are hard needs to meet in one meal because local organic meat/dairy is expensive and hard to come by. Nonetheless, I try. When I eat out, I aim for spots that feature regional goods whenever I can.

Except when I'm famished after a doctor's appointment and I have to put food in my body NOW NOW NOW or keel over and perish. So Sunday morning, I pulled in to Carl's Jr to try out this low carb burger my sister has been praising for weeks. I didn't have high hopes. Burgers are mostly meh experiences for me, so I tend to avoid them. They also tend to pack more calories than I can happily fit in. But Sunday morning? I did not care. I was starving.

And it was the best burger I've had since the meatless burger at In & Out years past. (How fondly I recall that cheesy soft-bunned delight that can never again meet my lips. Ohhhh my sorrow is deep.) The char-broiled flavor was enticing, the beef was flavorful and rich, the cheese and pickles and mustard and mayo hit all the right junk food notes. (I had them leave off the onion and ketchup to keep naughty carbs at a minimum and keep my stomach happy.) I dabbed on a bit of my own low carb ketchup and tucked in. Ahhh me gusta mucho. It was just greasy salty burger heaven. I know it isn't health food--oh far far from it! But it filled me up for about 490 calories.

I would never advise a fast food joint for health and nourishing primal living, but for a fun fling? Oh yes. For low carbers: go to Carl's Jr. Now! Right now! What are you waiting for?

But why?

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Oh my.

In atypical fashion for my not-so-social self, I was out amongst my fellow humans this past Friday. The topic of blogs was broached. I confessed to possessing several, but could not bring myself to hand over the addresses when pressed for them.

It's not that I entertain blissful notions that I'm alone in this ether world. I know the rest of the Net-surfing population is free to stumble upon my ramblings and read them at will. I don't mind it, really, so long as that idea is kept at arm's length. Anyone from Seattle and Szechuan and Santa Fe can read my silliness, drop in a comment if they wish, even tell me I'm a low and tasteless nincompoop. All of that is wholly acceptable.

But the notion of people I know reading my food-obsessive nonsense?

Unthinkable.

Why? Because we are judged by the words we use and how well we use them. I could no more hand over such an invitation to find all my flaws than I could gather spotlights around my lackluster body and pose for inspection.

Let me repeat: unthinkable.

So why do I blog? Oh, that's ever so simple. I blog because I've developed a nasty habit of summing up my life and experiences in syllables. It is a repository of memories. Diary. Journal. Scrapbook. (In particular, in this blog I hope to keep track of restaurants I've enjoyed as well as ones I'd do better to avoid in the future.) Why do I choose an online forum rather than a private set of paper pages? Again, the reasons are simple: 1) paper ages, crinkles, and gets lost even as the messy handwriting upon it becomes ever harder to decipher and 2) paper takes up space. Paper is a physical burden I don't intend to cultivate any longer.

With its personal posting options Livejournal fulfills my needs far better than Blogger, but LJ doesn't allow nearly so easy an insertion of photos in posts. I like to fill my food ramblings with images, so for this topic Blogger it had to be.

It never occurred to me before Friday evening that many (perhaps even most) people writing blogs are actually seeking to be read by others. Ahh, everyday I learn a new and surprising thing about this strange world and the creatures that inhabit it. They are so very different from myself.

What do we have in common?

We all must eat.

~L

Moscow's lovely green Nectar

Friday, August 15, 2008

For months my thoughts have wandered hungrily to Moscow's small but well-loved Nectar restaurant. (When I called a few months ago, a staff member told me the restaurant is working on a website that will arrive soon. As yet, it hasn't debuted, but I look forward to it. It would be great to know menu options before setting out to dine there.) A mandatory family excursion to the Co-op and Tri-State Thursday evening gave me the perfect excuse to step in and try the place out.

As befits a restaurant dedicated to serving as much natural, local food as possible, the outside offers a barely-tamed display of growing veggies and other lovely flora. The greeting desk in the entry features a vase holding a colourful menagerie of fresh flowers. The effect, upon entering, is soothing and lovely.

The restaurant does offer outside seating, but my family is too timid and allergen-averse to eat so brazenly in the open air. Instead my father, when given the choice, opted for the more shaded section of the restaurant. Had it been up to me I'd have expressed a clear preference for the sun-bathed portion of the interior. Ahh well. Do be aware that the inside seating does, in fact, have two areas with distinctly different lighting. The section adjacent to the floor-to-ceiling-length windows is blessedly well-lit. The tables that hide in further recesses and hug the internal walls, however, are cloaked in a darkness that gangsters, assassins, spies and migraine-sufferers would appreciate. While each table sports a candle at its center, that softly wavering flame offers little illumination amidst all the darkness. (I had to tweak the brightness and contrast in the photos significantly in order to make them viewable, so please imagine these images 30% darker than they appear here.)

The dark wooden tables are set with simple elegance. I loved the clear solid simplicity of the tall, slender water glasses. The textured ceiling tiles, variety of fabric-cushioned wood chairs and bare brick walls gave the restaurant a wonderful atmosphere that was complemented by the slinky flow of jazz from the bar. I should note my (increasily pregnant) sister would have preferred comfier seats, but I am resolute in my love for the chairs as they exist right now. Hey, you can't please 'em all.

The restaurant was relatively empty when we arrived at its opening hour of 5pm, but it began to fill up soon thereafter. If you plan to eat later in the evening on a Friday or weekend, reservations would be wise. You should also be forewarned that Nectar appears to embrace the philosophy of slow food. Although our salads arrived not too soon after we ordered, we waited a long time before our entrees appeared. (Gluten-intolerant sis was getting very hungry--and telling me not so happily about it--the longer we waited. Yes there was bread and butter, but sadly that didn't help her.)

As to the staff: Our waiter was informative with regard to the gluten status of menu items. I always appreciate that! He also doted on my cup of coffee. Again, much appreciated.

Nectar's single page menu is short and my sister groused a bit about the limited options she had. (Pregnancy has put her off so many former favorite dishes and restricted her safe food choices so drastically that eating out has become more an unhappy obstacle course than a pleasure. I pity the girl even as I envy her.) While I admit it might have been nice to have a greater selection to choose from, I was perfectly happy with the presented options. I'd never had clams and steamed ones in a wine and butter broth sounded scrumptious. I also chose a green salad (minus onions) with bleu cheese crumbles.

So, on to the food: My decaf coffee was among the best I've had at a restaurant. I tried to control my inner java-chugging fiend, but I still managed to guzzle three cups. Shame on me. The salad was superb. It had just enough slightly sweet vinegar to dazzle my tongue and just enough oil to make the greens a sleek tasty delight to my palate. I should note, however, that I've begun to grasp that restaurants featuring local edibles do not offer typically-sized salads. Rather, the precious and limited nature of the available greens seems to translate into smaller-than-average side salads. That's okay. The truth is that I don't need to gorge on such beautifully-dressed leaves. A smaller portioned indulgence is just fine.

As for the clams, not surprisingly they brought to mind the familiar flavor of my favorite childhood chowder. The wine and butter broth accompanied the chewy creatures well as I unearthed them from the array of shells in my bowl. It was fun and cheerfully time-consuming to separate each clam from its curved abode. Since I can eat so darned little but still like to linger over my meals, this was the perfect dish for me.

My mother and sister were kind enough to offer me bites of their respective pork loin and filet mignon. I found the pork to be splendid. The filet mignon--eh. Once again my disinclination toward steak manifested itself. Sis gave me a big enough bite that I cleaved it in two before tasting it. Had it not been impolite to sibling and restaurant and an unspeakable offense to the animal that gave its life for the meal, I would have forsaken the second bite. This reaction to the meat was later echoed by my sister as we wandered back to the car. While she had enjoyed the salad very much, the filet mignon was just not to her taste and seemed underdone even at medium. She declared the grilled asparagus to have a flavor remiscent of hash (yes, the cannibis kind, not the kind slung over grills at breakfast diners) but had enjoyed the salad quite a bit.

I should note that my mother expressed great fondness for her roasted (or was it grilled?) peach.

Overall Nectar's food was a mixed bag for my family. I will always zealously support the locavore cause and truly admire Nectar's commitment to that culinary philosophy. Still, I'm not sure their dishes have all arrived at the level of delectability that would justify the prices. (And how I hate to say such a thing for I truly do love their cause and want them to stay and thrive in Moscow.) The atmosphere is fun and jazzy. I have a suspicion that this place is a flavor oasis for wine lovers. Since not a single soul in my family can imbibe, that aspect was wasted on us.

Will I revisit this locavore retreat? Not soon, but eventually. Yes.

~L