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

Cafe Marron, Spokane

Tuesday, August 12, 2008


Everyone defines the perfect breakfast a little differently. And that definition evolves--as I've learned from my sister's unhappy pregnancy-related taste changes--as days pass. In that stomach-rumbling blissfully-ignorant time before I learned I dare not eat wheat, my perfect breakfast was Denny's cheap Sunshine slam: hash browns, pancakes and eggs. Learning that I am insulin resistant and need to keep gluten out and fructose at a minimum changed everything.

I have learned to embrace and pursue the savory with all my happy might. And I've come to appreciate any place that can put a fresh twist on my limited breakfast options. How many ways can you present eggs and meat on a plate?

Well, some places do it simply but with such incredible flavor (Frank's) that you melt with love. Other places do it creatively, with flare and unexpected tastes (Peso's) that compel you to return again and again. The reviews I'd read for Cafe Marron suggested it might be a great breakfast bet, so I had to find out for myself.

My sister navigated the residential Spokane streets with ease and found parking right across the street from our destination. The restaurant is nestled in a gorgeously green and flowery neighborhood. Although the interior seating area feels a bit dark, the patio dining is inviting and cheerily sun-drenched even beneath the huge fabric overhang that shades most of the exterior tables. My sister was most pleased to find ample room left between the tables as she is subject to feeling crowded by others' noisy conversations. The breeze and the environment were almost too pleasant to part from even after we'd finished our meals. Around us huge planters supported colorful veggies and flowers.

The service was friendly and knowledgeable.

So how is the food? Cafe Marron delivers a satisfying breakfast, and it does so with fresh, local ingredients combined to great effect. My duck eggs and chorizo scramble was most enjoyable. The bacon? It was crisp nearly to the point of being too dry, but still wonderfully tasty. My sister found it too crisp. She and I, on bacon, will never agree.

We did agree, however, that Cafe Marron was a wonderful place to linger over good food and that we will definitely return for more leisurely breakfasts.

~L

**************

Edited 10/16/08 to add:

Sister and I returned to Cafe Marron this week accompanied by our mother and her delightful ENFJ husband. Mother opted for an appetizer of toast followed by her favorite breakfast: oatmeal. Mandy once again chose ham and eggs. BIL opted for quiche Lorraine. In a whimsical morning mood, I ordered from the lunch menu instead and received the most tender, flavorful, lovely bunless Kobe beef burger adorned with a slice of cheddar and four half-slices of bacon. This shared plate space with a scrumptious crouton-less Caesar salad and some tomato slices. Absolutely delicious down to the very last bite.

Sister was less pleased with her potatoes this time around, pronouncing them less than done, but she still loves the unsweetened ham. BIL quite enjoyed his quiche.

The interior decor was charming--colourful walls scrawled with pretty designs and golden lettering, marble tables (though we were at a table with a vinyl cover--yikes!) and plentiful sun streaming through the huge retractable windows that form the restaurant's front wall. If you're inclined to be sun-sensitive or squinty, you might want to choose a table a few feet back from the bank of windows.

Much much love for this restaurant. There will be many happy returns.

The Breakfast Club, Moscow

I haunt this place. Can't help it.

It's their bacon. The likes of it you'll find nowhere else in the Palouse. Trust me on this. This is the best breakfast to be had in the Moscow/Pullman area.

Plus? The service is cheery and intelligent (as only Moscow's progressive and educated citizenry can provide), the prices are great, and the food shows up quickly.

Cons? Well, parking is not easy. And the double-doored entry is both awkward and cramped. The narrow path you must follow to reach your seat is also less than ideal. And the stiff and narrow vinyl-seated chairs are less than comfortable for the unlucky diners who have to place their bums there and not on the much cushier booth. If they could afford it, The Breakfast Club would benefit from a serious re-arrangement of seating and inner architecture. It would also befit Moscow's progressive, nature-respecting style if the decor and furniture were updated to more comfier and more eco-friendly textiles, but I know that's asking a lot of this restaurant. It's really only fair to ask for good food. And their food is good indeed.

I do have some hesitation with the omelets. I'd been salivating over them for ages, imagining their delights without having the calories available to indulge. For my birthday, I finally took the plunge only to find they're not nearly so rich and flavorful as my dreams. They're just okay. Granted, my dietary restrictions meant I couldn't order some of the saucier options that may have better suited my tastes. Shrug. All I can say is that the omelet I had for my birthday didn't justify the calories I gave up. (And just to be clear on this: I have found omelets that were worth the dietary splurge.) So when dining at TBC, I will limit myself happily and always to bacon and eggs. The eggs, I should add, are perfectly nice. I actually think I prefer them to the omelet.

In any case, for crisp, thick salty bacon aficianados, The Breakfast Club is heaven.

Sniffle... I get to travel through Moscow every other Wednesday and most of those I can drop by TBC for breakfast. Tomorrow, however, my trip will be late in the day thus precluding bacon. 'Tis a sad thing.

With Much Love for this little restaurant,
~L

Edited 8/27/08 to add: Our kind waitress obliged me and happily divulged that The Breakfast Club serves Daily's bacon which can be found at Safeway and Rosauers. I have joyfully procured same and hope to replicate TBC's fine porcine creation at my next opportunity.

Love this place.

Do not, however, love its coffee which is much too dark a roast for the mild-java-lovin likes of me.

Wild Ginger, Seattle

Darn me for not writing this review sooner. We had a truly enjoyable meal at this restaurant--though parking downtown Seattle with a mobility-challenged mother was a bit of a bear. This restaurant deserves better than my faded memories are up to providing, but here goes nothing...

Once again my family was challenged by the need to feed low-carbing gluten-intolerants alongside vegetarians. I researched like crazy trying to find an Asian restaurant that would offer tofu along with meat and veggie dishes while catering to our wheat-free needs. The truly Asian establishments in Chinatown were a possibility, but I wasn't sure my sister and I would be able to communicate effectively that no wheat also means no traditional soy sauce, etc.

I decided our best bet was Wild Ginger. I hesitated to herd all of us there because some reviews suggested stylish attire was mandatory. When I called, however, they assured me there was no dress code. This turned out to be true. The waitress never batted an eyelash at our decidedly on-vacation casual attire.

The jasmine tea was fragrant and enjoyable.

The bok choy with garlic sauteed in oil was just nummy.

The duck grabbed me by the taste buds and wouldn't let me go. It was all I could do to stop myself from plowing through an absurd amount of calories at Wild Ginger. The chicken dish, while good, was predictable. For the bok choy and duck I would return--with a hesitation. Though my sister insisted the duck didn't taste sweet to her, it tasted sugary to me. If I were going to return, I would ask them to leave the sweetener out of the duck. No sugar carbs for me, thanks muchly.

But the rest?

All good.

~L

35th Street Bistro, Seattle

Boy howdy, trying to accommodate my mum-to-be sister's need for bland, my own (and sis's) need for gluten-free low-carb as well as my brother and sister-in-law's need for vegetarian fare is a serious dining conundrum. (Of course, I can remind myself that I lived that precise way for over a year--low-carb, gluten-free vegetarian dieter that I was--but it's one thing to dine at home and control your ingredients, it's quite another to try to find meals on the go.

It's darned hard, actually.

The places that vegetarians would typically flock to--Italian retreats full of pasta and sweet tomato sauces or Asian restaurants offering up tofu and rice or even the local Subway with its veggie sandwich--none of these have items I can typically consume. Lately I've had my easiest meals at places dedicated to meat and seafood. These places do not suit my brother and sister-in-law.

So when we set out to choose a nice restaurant we could all enjoy we ground our gears for quite some time before settling on Fremont's 35th Street Bistro. With its local, grass-fed fare, it appealed to me. And apparently there were some menu items that my brother and his bride quite enjoyed in prior visits.

Like every other destination in Fremont, this restaurant has awful/nonexistent parking. Just find a space and plan on walking several blocks.

The bistro features thick wooden tables and chairs and the decor--though my memory is beginning to fade--is dominated by glass, wood, well-placed lights and plant life.

Sadly it's been weeks now and I can barely recall my Bistro burger with no bun. I do remember that I enjoyed it, but it seems it was missing the promised bacon and came only with a sprinkling of bleu cheese. The bite I had of my father's dish was appealing and my family all seemed to revel in their chosen meals. Unfortunately my poor pregnant sister has the touchiest tummy and became pretty sick following the meal. (We suspect there's likely gluten in the fries that I gave her, never planning to eat them and thus not querying the waiter for their gluten status.)

There was a bit of a snafu with our order. I noticed other tables full of diners who'd arrived well after we had being served their meals while we waited and waited... The waiter did apologize for the delay. It wasn't a big deal, but I was getting fairly hungry.

Would I go back? Definitely. They offer local, humanely-raised, healthful food and prepare it beautifully then serve it in a stylish environment conducive to good conversation and relaxation. Yes, it is pricey, but it's worth it.

Sigh... I sorta love dining in Fremont.

~L

The Dish, Seattle

Ohhh breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. Not only is it my first giddy tangle with food after hours and hours of nothingness, it's filled with so many of my faves: eggs, sausage, bacon, coffee, tea...

It never fails to give my tastebuds a thrill. Thus, I am always looking for the Best Breakfast Around when I'm on vacation. Seattle has so many highly-recced destinations that it was hard to choose which to sample on my recent vacation. My dietary restrictions (and my sister's) did, however, play a role. Some venues focus so heavily on gluten-infested carbs that we gluten-intolerants are restricted to side dishes. Other places actually advertise that they won't do substitutions. I understand they're probably a huge pain for the kitchen staff, but yikes. I did not ask to have the lousy GI tract I was born with. Ahh well.

I knew it was going to be hard to surpass the splendor of Pesos, but I still wanted to give some other places a shot.

The Dish down in Ballard was mostly a hit for my family. They offered an ample variety of different egg-based dishes while still providing gluten-y options for my carb-monster of a mother.

I had a sausage scramble with a side of bacon. (Bacon has become all but non-negotiable on my breakfast plate.) The bacon was not as perfect as Frank's nor as delightful as TBC in Moscow, but was still scrumptious. The scramble was delicious.

Vinyl was abundant, but the room was much sunnier than Peso's cavernous interior. The food was not as unusual as my Seattle morning fave, but it was still worth the drive.

I will definitely go back there again--as soon as my sister can handle non-bland food. My still gestating nephew/niece does not like flavors, the little scoundrel.

Charmed and Sated,
~L

Before it traipses too far from my memory: 13 Coins Seattle

I wanted liver.

I'd been reading about it from various Nourishing Traditions and Weston A Price sources and my curiousity with regard to this organ meat was all but killing me. I know, call me silly. Call me absolutely crazy. Still, I was a woman with an agenda.

I also wanted to try escargot. Hey, don't judge me. It was my vacation. I can eat snails if I want to.

In any case, I found only three places in Seattle that seemed to serve liver, and one of them didn't list it on its current menu. I could choose from Campagne or 13 Coins. Now the reviews I'd read for 13 Coins at Seatac were mostly positive, but the ones for the Seattle 13 Coins were less than consistently happy. Knowing this, I fully planned to eat there by myself in one of the bar seats. I told Dad this, but he insisted the whole family was going.

They should have heeded my warning and left me to my own devices.

It wasn't that it was awful--though both my mother and sister got sick--it was just very pricey for mediocre food.

I loved my escargot. Who could ever object to such chewy delights hunkered down in buttery wells? I will absolutely have snails again asap.

But the liver?

It was a fiasco. I had told the waitress I couldn't have wheat--no gluten. But somehow she didn't connect that with the liver. When it arrived, it looked sodden in gravy. Many gravies contain flour. When I queried her and she went to the kitchen, she returned and advised me not to eat the liver--there was flour there.

She said they would make me a new one and I stated "Just liver, nothing else". She nodded agreement. Well the second one arrived with just as much gravy as the first and I was again most concerned--I asked her again.

Yeah, there was much more than just liver there. Even sugar. I was just... what can I say? I'm always so hesitant to be a pest and so I tend not to communicate my dietary prohibitions as effectively as I should. This is my fault. The waitress obviously misunderstood my question.

But this did mean that all I had for dinner was snails. I was not up to a third try. I felt bad enough that two livers went to waste because of poor communication.

Anyway, other aspects of the restaurant: it's fairly dark and the music is older style lounge/jazz. The decor is mostly nautical--a big pirate ship filled a large shelf behind our booth. The booths themselves are generously cushioned and the backs reach so high that you have a full sense of privacy. This also keeps the noise of others' conversations happily away from you. This could be an enjoyable restaurant for a lingering dinner, but they do need to work on their food.

Would I go back? Hmmm... Not sure. The escargot was terrific, but if I can teach myself to cook it then no. I wouldn't need to return. And other places serve snail.

I know with certainty my family will not return there.

But let us remember fondly the delicious snails and go forth to better adventures...

~L

Perkins, Division Bridge

No, no, no. Do not blame me. I did not choose this destination, nor would I.

It was my pregnant sister's fault. She was hungry and wasn't up to anything "strange". She wasn't even up to the breakfastly joys Frank's.

Nope, she wanted to go to Perkins and would not be stopped.

I blame my unborn nephew/niece.

In any case, there we were: me with eggs over easy, bacon and a side salad with no croutons; Mandy with a mushroom swiss burger with no bun. Fine.

What can I say? The bacon is small and thin and so insubstantial as to be created from oil and tissue paper. The eggs are far better. In fact, they're reasonably good, but I fear they could be addled with transfats. The salad? The bleu cheese dressing is okay--better than something from a bottle, but not something I'd ever seek out. I suspect the ranch might be better, but just barely.

No. Just no. This is a place with comfy booths and easy parking and a bland menu with enough variety to accommodate--generically--a whole family's tastes. That's good and necessary.

But I don't need to go back here.

That was a very naughty nephew/niece forcing this peculiar breakfast upon me. Appropriate revenge will be had involving lima beans and okra when the time is right.

~L

Wild Sage Bistro, Spokane

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Today sister and I ventured north on a focused mission: for me to experience liver. In the wake of my utter and embarrassing failure to procure gluten-free liver in Seattle, I researched today's venue with great care. My diligence was beautifully rewarded.

The Wild Sage Bistro resides in a building across the street from Spokane's old steamplant. The restaurant's sign and facade are rather subdued in the early evening sun; few would guess that behind the tall plate glass windows scrumptious meals are being served and enjoyed. On street parking isn't free until 7pm and the lot directly adjacent to the restaurant isn't free, so if you're an early evening diner arm yourself with a handful of quarters before venturing out.

Rich with dark woods and intriguing textures, the Wild Sage Bistro offers a set of comfortable wheat-coloured chairs in its entry for diners who need to wait for a table. Intriguing pieces of art dot the walls, but the one feature that drew my eyes most often was the extensive wooden wine rack at the back of the dining area. Even to this tea-totaling girl, the rack was lovely to behold.

Though my bony legs prefer the plush treatment of thick chair cushions, the upright-backed cushionless chairs at the bistro are sturdy and comfortable enough for the span of a single evening meal. (And there is something clean and lovely about a simple well-designed wooden chair. Though my silly bum might disagree, I think it would detract from the beauty of the dining area if the chairs sported cushions.) The dark glossy wooden tables are set with handsome pale wooden (or perhaps bamboo) chargers cradling the white napkin and appetizer plate.

My sister noted that Harry Connick Jr was playing in the background; I had not noticed until she mentioned it. The music was at a perfect volume. You could listen happily if you paid attention, but it wasn't so loud that it would disrupt conversation or distract from the food.

The menu, on brown-rice-coloured parchment and bound in textured copper, is not extensive, but it is excellent. Offering a mixture of the slightly unusual and the traditional, its options managed to please my timid-diner sister just as much as endlessly-adventuresome me.

The service was stellar from the start. I am a fumbling novice at the rules of fine dining, but the lady who helped us gracefully and with a winning smile managed my moments of naivete. She is also the first wait person I have encountered since learning of my gluten intolerance over two years ago who came back from a kitchen to advise us that a dining choice might not be safe. (If my sister were at a celiac level of gluten intolerance, it wouldn't have been 100% safe for her to risk the maltodextrin in her dressing because that ingredient is occasionally derived from wheat outside of the US. In the US, it's typically gluten-free and not an ingredient I try to avoid.) This delightful lady deserves a brilliant gold star for making a special effort to ensure our meals were safe. This is rare service indeed!

This is probably a good time to note that The Wild Sage Bistro is happy to accommodate diners' special dietary needs. I would strongly recommend this restaurant to anyone on a gluten-free diet.

The service was the first star of the evening, now on to the second:

This food is delicious.

While the coffee was more espresso-esque then I typically prefer, the food was nothing but pleasure after pleasure. My salad, a crisp array of burgundy leaves with a glistening drizzle of pale green dressing waited enticingly beside a delectable nest of parmesan reggiano flakes. The flavor was as gorgeous as the arrangement.

My entree was just as carefully presented. Petite green and yellow pattypan squash shared peripheral space with slim purple carrots while a tender platform of onions and greens propped up the two precious slices of liver. Each vegetable was cooked to its optimal texture. While I typically leave the onions in my meals behind to lounge (enjoying the flavor, but avoiding the sugars in that veg) this dish was so delicious, I couldn't help but eat every last one. I found the pattypan squash especially charming.

The liver? That so yearned for organ meat that has haunted my dreams and mocked my laughable inability to track it down? Ahh, yes it was worth the wait. I cannot imagine this meat being more winningly prepared--tender, rich, hot and flavorful--than it was this evening. I now know that liver is truly a sweet cut of meat. This was only a small surprise since I'd already learned from Fitday that it is one of the rare meats that contains carbs. I also know the mammal liver frequently houses glycogen, so I expected a slight sugary hint. It was still quite a bit sweeter than my tongue was expecting, but pleasant regardless. I could taste the wealth of vitamins in the meat and enjoy them within the context of healthful fat and protein. Yes, I can certainly understand why many consider this a superfood. Is it for me? Well, no. It's a bit too sweet for my palate. Nonetheless, I happily recognize its merits and give the chef full marks. If ever I have liver again, it will be here. (Though I have my eye on another dish at the moment!)

My sister, woman of grace and wisdom, ordered steak. I have never been a fan of this food and tend to avoid it zealously, but she persuaded me to accept a bite from her plate. Pink within and brown at the edges, it glistened at me and I stabbed it mercilessly with my fork.

Did I mention I've never met a steak I like?

Tonight, benevolent universe, I made the acquaintance of a steak I loved. Ohhhh, the pleasure, while brief, was so rich and tender and bursting with excellent flavor. For the first time I could understand why my family members order steak. Mmmm, heavenly.

To summarize: the decor stimulates contemplation and inspires soothing thought, the music is jazzy and just right, the menu options should satisfy both the timid and the curious, the dishes are presented beautifully, the service is stellar and the food is simply delectable.

I will most definitely return to this treasure of a restaurant. And next time I will be sure to bring along my steak-loving Dad and brother-in-law. It is a crime against culinary bliss that they missed tonight's treat.

So Truly Pleased,
~L

Revisited on August 8, 2008:

We just had to go back.

This time I made note that both the chargers and the flooring appear to be bamboo. The menus appeared to be in a textured vinyl, however. Not sure. The gauzy drapes and bunched tapestry curtains gave the windows around us a nice stylish feel. I still really love the decor and atmosphere in this place.

The restaurant had a special menu for the seven year old at our table. She enjoyed her food immensely with the exception of the eggplant. My mother and sister enjoyed their salmon while my Dad relished his steak. The lucky gluten tolerate among us declared the popovers delectable. My envy nearly broke me.

The Friday night atmosphere was much noisier than the midweek early evening meal my sister and I enjoyed. I could hear the music, but it was mostly obscured by the conversations around us. That's okay.

So what did I choose? Mandy's steak was so divine I had to try it for myself. And this time I had a simple starter salad with bleu cheese. Once again the greens were thick, fresh, crisp and curly and wonderful. Although the salad was a bit smaller than a typical side salad, it was still satisfying. The steak was tender and lovely.

So the question is, will I go back again soon now that I've sampled from the menu those items that most intrigued me? I love their food and service and style. I will definitely return. The cost, however, will probably mean it will be several months, maybe even half a year, before I venture back. Don't misunderstand: the food is worth its price. I'm just a girl on a budget. And with my sense of culinary adventure, every dining dollar is precious.

When next I go, however, I will be sure that it is mid-week and early in the evening. It was ever so much easier that way.

Still Satisfied,
~L

The Old European Breakfast House, Pullman WA

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Mother and I zipped happily over to Princeton for milk this morning. On the way there we stopped in Pullman for breakfast at one of her favorites, The Old European Breakfast House.

Birdhouses, pitchers and teapots dominate the decor, with lacey valances hanging over the wide bank of windows on the wall across from the entrance. There are several crimson vinyl and tapestry booths, but the majority of seating is provided by tables and wooden chairs with curved armrests.

The room is wonderfully lit with ample light fixtures and windows. I felt cheered by the glorious amount of light flooding the room. The music, unfortunately, was so faint as to be gibberish in the background. The fairly open seating arrangement and lack of high-backed booths meant that the half-full room was loud with conversations and the sounds of people taking in breakfast.

Old European's menu is a spiral bound laminated set of pages with the main offerings being fairly carb-heavy. A fat-and-protein eater can, however, dine happily on eggs, protein and tomato slices. Omelets are also available, though I didn't venture that direction today.

We did have a bit of a wait before our order was taken, but they were quite busy so it was understandable. My over easy eggs had lovely liquid centers and firm whites. They weren't greasy or oily at all, which is a plus for restaurant eggs since few establishments would use the safer fats like coconut oil or butter. I would have appreciated whites that were a bit less dry, but these were okay. My German sausage was quite tasty. Coffee was just right. Prices were reasonable for a sit-down breakfast in a sunny room with friendly service.

Lighting: 5 stars
Music: 1 star (because it existed but wasn't truly audible)
Decor: 2 stars (the paintings, tapestry, birdhouses and pitchers are quite nice, but are only abundant on one wall. The other walls are mostly bare and seem to want more decoration. It could be, however, that they're transition between summer and fall and that we found them on an unusually bare-walled day.)
Service: 4 stars (friendly and attentive, very nice)
Meal variety: 2 stars
Taste: 2 stars

Would I go there again? Hmmm. Yes, I would. And I will for I must try their bacon. After I have done so, ask me again. :)

~L

Edited August 12, 2008: I have now sampled their bacon. A side order is a super generous four slices. They are medium thick and amply greasy, but not as salty or crisp as I normally prefer. Not bad, but not the type of bacon that would keep me coming back for more.

The two brightest jewels in this restaurant are the sunlight and the service. For people who seek friendly faces in glowing rooms, this is the place for breakfast. For those who want gluten-intolerant fare with variety and divine taste, this would be a bit of a compromise.

It's okay. Will I go back again? Only if my eating companion is truly eager to do so. I wouldn't make it my own destination.

Oh how happy

I've stopped trying to deny it: food makes me happy. Salty, crunchy, savory, gooey, glistening, fragrant, tart, sour, even sweet--they all make my heart sing with joy. Is this a childish and hedonistic indulgence? Sure!

But what's so wrong with that?

So long as I am not tearing the spoon from my neighbor's hand, I see nothing morally amiss about reveling in the joy of a good meal. To that end I have created this blog to log my dining experiences. Most of them will be in eastern Washington where I live, work and play, but I do make occasional treks across the pass (Snoqualmie that is), so I will review a few Seattle area restaurants as well.

What you should know about my tastes before you read this blog:

1. I strive to consume the most healthful diet I can. For me that means carb-conscious food. You will not find me tucking into a bowl of oatmeal or munching on a French fry. Your tastes--and impressions of restaurants--may thus clash wildly with mine.

2. I am gluten intolerant, so wheat, traditional soy sauce, rye, barley and most oat products are off my menu.

3. I do not eat unfermented soy unless it's all-but-an-emergency. I'm not here to lecture on health topics. You can google soy and make your own decisions in this area.

3. Strange as this may sound coming from a formerly devoted vegetarian, the above three facts mean it is Pretty Darned Hard for me to dine at veggie restaurants. The vast majority of veg establishments use soy or wheat gluten as the main protein in their meals. While I can typically find food options at lacto-ovo-friendly veg restaurants, strict vegan restaurants are a big challenge for me. This saddens me because I have dear vegan and veg friends and love nothing more than eating out with them. I hope one day to find a restaurant that can serve us all.

4. Chocolate is my One Thing. I never actually find chocolate dishes I can eat at restaurants since they all contain sugar, but if I ever did? Oh what a wonderful day that would be.

A Blissful Diner,
~L

 
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