September 2009 Archives

Ever get the feeling of déjà bu?

bin on the lake (pronounced "bottle," we think), formerly known as bin Vivant, has moved upstairs into the Woodmark Hotel space vacated by Yarrow Bay Grill. It remains a lively and welcoming wine bar, with a limited restaurant menu, under chef Scottt Lents, that avoids the cutesy multiple-choice feel of Lisa Nakamura's original concept. (We wrote about bin Vivant here on Cornichon shortly after it opened last year.)

Bin on the Lake (damned if we'll put up with their self-conscious typography!) has 80 wines by the glass in one-, three-, and six-ounce pours, while the kitchen turns out small plates and bite platters for sharing, large plates, and meal-specific “botl burgers” (American kobe served on toasted brioche with an egg at breakfast, classic at lunch, gourmet embellished at night, about $15).

Twice-daily wine-time happy hours include half off many items (baby back ribs, smoked beef brisket sliders). In the works: a "spin the botl" night and additional "binnovative" events.

The strength, as before, is in the wine list, which ranges from Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc for $58 to Chateau Pichon Lalande's 1996 bottling for $600. As one might expect, local wines are well-represented.

Yup, bin there, drank that.

Bin on the Lake, 1270 Carillon Point in the Woodmark Hotel, Kirkland, 425 803-5595  

Giant cruise ships (above, left) regularly block the view of Seattle's skyline from Palisade.

One of Seattle's off-beat pleasures has long been a celebratory meal at Palisade, the fancy restaurant facing downtown Seattle from the Elliott Bay Marina at the base of Magnolia bluff. The Restaurants Unnlimited property gets dinged for being stodgy and overdecorated, but its Sunday brunch, at 30 bucks, was a deal, the service is elegant without being stuffy, and the view as good as anything from West Seattle.

So it's with regret that Cornichon must report that the view of downtown is now subject to interruptions from visiting ocean liners tied up at the new cruise-ship terminal. And the serpentine brunch buffet, (laden with half-shell oysters, cracked crab, prawns, all manner of eggs, meats and cheeses, salads, pastries desserts) has been cut back, way back. Its replacement, called the luau buffet, consists of smoked salmon, some fresh fruit, and a pancake station, and is no longer the main event but a prelude to an "entrée" from the kitchen (steak and eggs, for example) that now costs more like $35 a plate. It's only a good deal by comparison; they nail you for $27 if you only go for the buffet. Everything comes swimming in butter, even a lobster BLT on a 3-inch slice of fried brioche. Next time, Salty's!

Palisade, 2601 W. Marina Pl., 206-285-1000  

Since "chao" means hello or welcome in Vietnamese, this was going to be a post about a bite of lunch (a gooey meatball sandwich) at a new eatery called Chao on Capitol Hill.

That was Friday. But things got delayed, and in the meantime Chow Foods filed suit against Chao for, what exactly? Copyright infringement? The old Ruby Chow's (Chinese place owned by the late county councilwoman of the same name) could join the fray, perhaps, as could Chao Praya in Kent or Chow Paya Thai in Tacoma. For that matter, so could Ciao Bella in the U District. If they were so inclined, so could the foodies at ChowHound.com, or the ghost of Duke Moscrip, whose restaurants are all called Chowder Houses. There's a Chau Thoi Ba on Roxbury in West Seattle and a Pho Chau My on MLK in Rainier Beach, too. Who's going to stand up for them?

On the other hand, we know how hard it is to keep names straight. Endolyne Joe, Atlas Foods, 5-Spot, Hi-Life...not an easy lineup to remember. So you wrap them into a corporate entity called Chow Foods, right? Because it's all about protecting the brand, right? And what brand would that be, exactly? Well, neighborhood restaurants, dontcha know, like the 5-Spot on Queen Anne. Or like Coastal Kitchen on Capitol Hill. Except, whoops, co-founder Jeremy Hardy took two of the stores, Coastal Kitchen and Mioposto in Mount Baker, and started a new company, Seattle Eats. Which leaves his former partner Peter Levy worried that Seattle might think Chao is his new neighborhood place. Which it's clearly not, and here's why:

Chao's meatballs were covered in a sweet banana-leaf barbecue sauce that left the Vietnamese sandwich roll completely limp. The hindmost meatball fell out as the first was eaten. Knife and fork to the rescue! The decent "signature salad" was dressed with a mild lychee vinaigrette; the beer glass, however, had the residual smell of a defective AutoChlor rinse cycle. All this was ahead of the grand opening, mind you, presided over by David Tran, whose most recent ventures into Seattle nightlife are bars and dance clubs named Amber (formerly Axis) and Venom (formerly Medusa), both in Belltown. As for Capitol Hill, well, Mr. Tran, welcome.to the neighborhood.

Chao Bistro, 1200 E. Pike, 206-324-1010   

Last we saw of Tyler Myers, his IGA Kress Market was just opening in downtown Seattle; the results to date (according to his publicists) are encouraging. Now he's back on familiar ground (Whidbey Island) and trying again. Cornichon sent regular correspondent & guest blogger Jacqueline Pruner to check out the new store.

The Goose Community Grocer, complete with up-to-date Facebook and Twitter accounts, opened its doors on South Whidbey Island at Bayview Center last week.

In typical, glorious, “do-it-differently” island fashion, this grocer is a unique partnership between a non-profit called Goosefoot and The Myers Group (the company behind Seattle’s Kress IGA and the Snoqualmie Ridge Grocery Store).

What makes this grocer worth the ferry ride over, you ask? A quality of folksiness, of small-town (or island) cohesion, of mutual support and local pride. Some examples:

1) Their approach to doing business. They balance South Whidbey’s rural quality of life and standard of living, with net proceeds to be reinvested back into the community. All this under a focus of environmental responsibility: The Goose uses energy-efficient, refurbished, reused, and reclaimed products and materials – with an estimated reduction of 15 to 20 percent in energy use and annual savings of close to $30,000.

2) The food. The Goose also highlights local and regional farmers and artisans by carrying their products in their stores. Although I’d like to see more local products (a local “soupery” installed, for example), they’re off to a decent start. Try the gourmet, sashimi grade canned tuna from High Seas Tuna (allegedly once you taste some, it’ll ruin you for all other canned tuna products, which, I’m told, will begin to taste like cat food in comparison). Feeling saucy? Try Neal Mobley’s veritable variety of tahini sauce by Mr. Mobley’s Food Specialties or Lopez Larry’s gourmet mustards (the Dill Caper Mustard and Garlic Red Onion Mustard sauces were favs). And don’t forget to take home the melt-in-your-mouth-without-giving-you-sugar-shock cakes from Whidbey Islander John Auburn’s JW Desserts (a $10,000 winner with his metallic green, Seattle skyline cake on the Food Network Challenge last October 2008).

3) Humble beginnings. And to think that Tyler Myers himself, president of The Myers Group, began his career as a box boy/courtesy clerk for this very same supermarket – once owned by his father back when it was called Casey’s Red Apple – that is now South Whidbey’s new Goose Community Grocer.

You’ve come a long way, baby. Now, go get yourself goosed.

Seattle's own enfant terrible, Gabriel Claycamp (well, not exactly terrible but kinda naughty nonetheless, what with serving wine at his Culinary Communion cooking classes without the proper licenses) finally seems to have his shit together. That would be his pigshit, just so you know. Yes, the long-awaited Swinery, Temple of Porcine Love, is now open in West Seattle. Our friend Jacqueline Pruner sends these pix and this report.

Owner/Chef/Artisan Butcher Gabriel Claycamp – who really prefers to be called “Head Swine Guy” – has just opened Seattle’s first sustainable, artisan, butchershop and shop/delicatessen. That means, he says, locally-sourced, whole animals purchased from small farmers within 300 miles of the store and a commitment to certified organic whenever possible (otherwise as organic as possible). As such, Claycamp's goal is similar to the revitalization of organic farming and urban homesteading in reaction to large-scale factory farming: to bring back the exceptional flavor that’s lost with the mass-produced factory meats.

A true artisan butchery, the Swinery makes, bakes, smokes and cures its own products, such as: pâté de campagne (a rich pork pâté made with a cognac reduction); bacon-wrapped venison pâté en terrine (a stronger garlic, dark-meat taste); andouille sausage (a little sweet at the front, very complex in the middle, and just enough heat at the end); pastrami (a nicely marbled balance with fat that melts in your mouth and a spicy finish); Cajun-style tasso (smoked ‘n’ spicy pork shoulder that tastes like an exotic ham); prosciutto that is smoked 18 hours and aged two years; and chicken rillettes (bit bland but would herb-up nicely). And the word on the street is that the Swinery's house-made bacon is to die for. Bacon dogs and bacon burgers, too.

This is also the place to find the unique types and cuts of meat not normally readily available, such as squab (young pigeon). Wondering how to prepare squab? Fear not, for a computerized recipe kiosk is coming soon to The Swinery.

All this of course comes with higher prices, but fair, real prices nonetheless. After all, in a truly free market economy, particularly an artisan one, meat ain’t cheap. Nevertheless, their slogan is: “Everyone wants our meat in their mouths.”

Cornichon: Ya don’t say, Jacqueline?

Jacqueline: Now, now, Ronald … don’t be such a pig.

You start your appraisal shyly, staring at the ground and slowly looking up. White Skechers (the Shape-Up model), crew socks, flesh-colored pantyhose, the iconic orange hotpants, indeed there's a lot to ogle before you get to the logo Hooters tanktop or tee (or vee, as it were). With ironic self-awareness, the back of the shirt reads "Delightfully tacky yet unrefined."

Some two dozen uniformed Hooter Girls are on duty in the noonday sun for the ribbon cutting of a new Hooters in South Park, where Rascals Casino once raked it in. Same ownership, actually, since it's all about the gaming license. The fair Hooters, in all their multi-ethnic pulchritude, are but the bait. Seattle doesn't allow gaming, but Hooters is across the street from the city line.

"We're committed to the growth of entertainment in this part of town," says Rascals' Ed Pilarz, who sports a Hooters-orange tie. "Every day we throw a party, and you're invited."

So they cut the ribbon and in we go, to be served an airline bottle of chardonnay, some carrot & celery sticks with packaged ranch dressing, curly fries, a plateful of sliders, another of mildly spicy wings, and a packet containing (surely not a condom!) a handi-wipe. In front, dozens of hi-def TVs tuned to sports channels, in the back,15 tables of card games. Opens to the public Thursday. Oh, and they're still hiring.

More pictures over on Seattlest, whose advanced blogging software allows galleries.

Hooters, 9635 Des Moines Memorial Blvd., South Park, 206-625-0555  

Gary Merlino's occupying army spent weeks wreaking havoc on Belltown, showing no mercy as the city's dark lord dispatched his ungodly machines into every square foot of Second Avenue. Now the filthy, fire-breathing trucks have moved further south, leaving behind a fresh patina of black tar to remind us that urban living is under constant threat from Those Who Would Pave Paradise.

Like spring flowers or fall mushrooms, some unlikely signs of life follow this apocalypse: watering holes of unusual aspect whose patrons seem like thirsty refugees from some distant, unreported conflict. How else are we to explain a nightclub named Vela Pizzeria, which has yet to serve a real pizza, let alone activate its website menu, in the basement space of the Labor Temple most recently vacated by Mira? And how else to explain the Copper Cart Café, not a café at all but yet another nightclub-cum-pool hall, on the order of Belltown Billiards (and complete with bullets, even)? And how else to explain Broad Street Pizza & Pasta, rising from the ashes of Cucina De Ra (actually not on Second but not new either, though with the same owner rebranding and downshifting from fine dining).

Where Saito once wielded his sushi knife, V Noodle Bar now lights the block between Blanchard and Lenora. It's two bars, actually, plus a kitchen that turns out a perfectly respectable bowl of rice noodles, topped with a giant piece of bone-in chicken and a similarly sized battered shrimp. For $9 at midnight, not a bad deal.

The most curious find is also the most obscure, a speakeasy in the alley between Second and First, known as Bathtub Gin & Co., (no website; that would spoil it) with a tiny upstairs bar and downstairs lounge. Two dozen brands of gin on offer, with Bellringer as the house pour. We might have preferred a bit less of it and a bit more Campari in our $9 Negroni, but we made do.

V Bar & Noodle Lounge, 2122 2nd Avenue, 206-441-8227
Copper Cart Cafe, 113 Bell Street, 206-239-0830
Bathtub Gin & Co., 2205 2nd Avenue, 206-728-6069
Broad St. Pizza & Pasta, 2807 Western Ave. 206-728-9600

The article, in the British newspaper The Guardian this weekend, was actually titled "The 50 best things to eat in the world, and where to eat them." But it's doubtful that writer Killian Fox actually went to every single one of the 50 restaurants he cites. Instead, he relied on a coterie of (mostly English) foodies, and one wonders if even they paid personal visits to the famous shrines they cite.

Now, this is not the same newspaper that placed Seattle's own Molly Wizenburg atop a ranking of the world's top food blogs, so we're inclined to be skeptical. You can't quarrel with Parisian landmark tea-shop Ladurée for macaroons, Katz's Deli in New York for pastrami, or  but it's hard to believe that the world's best pizza is at Frank Pepe's in New Haven, Conn., or that the best roast chicken is to be had at that vastly overrated joint in Paris, l'Ami Louis.

So where's the beef? Well, Paris again (roast beef at Louchebem) or northwest Spain for a steak (would have guessed Argentina, no?). But where, oh where, is there any mention of salmon, surely one of the world top foods? Tomato juice? No problem (in the Ferry Plaza market in San Francisco). Tacos, pork belly, sushi, olive oil, all mentioned. Oysters, too (Ireland), but no salmon, food of the soul for so many.

"The 50 Best," not "50 of the best." So what's number 51? Must be the salmon.

Hotel 1000 is living large these days. It's the top hotel in Seattle, according to Travel & Leisure, ranking 16th in the "Large City" category. (Fairmont Olympic, often cited as the city's most elegant, is 32nd.) Our correspondent Jacqueline Pruner asks, "Seattle's a large city now? Who knew?" Cornichon asked her to stop by the hotel to check out the latest.

It's called “In The Studio,” a monthly speaker series in partnership with the Seattle Art Museum just up the street. Held in the hotel's STUDIO 1000, these free events offer up hors d’oeuvres from BoKA (Best Of Kitchen Artistry): tasty bites like bacon mac ‘n’ cheese, grilled Painted Hills beef satay, sugar cane skewered crab cakes, and those addictive truffle fries. Basic comfort food, done right.

The food is paired with presentations by SAM curators on their upcoming exhibits, and audience participation is encouraged. A glass of wine is only $3, with all proceeds to benefit SAM. (Well worth raising one’s glass to that, no?) We attended a presentation on the Imogen Cunningham photography exhibit; next month, it's Michelangelo’s sketches (November 11th), and after that, Alexander Calder’s mobiles and maquettes (December 2nd). Come early and sit next to the buffet, or you may miss out on the frenzied food feast.

By the way, it turns out that Seattle now ranks tenth in T&L's “Top 10 Cities” of North America. Our good old Emerald City is sparkling a little brighter these days.

Tod Davies has written a memoir overflowing with food. Every page of Jam Today recounts a meal or an ingredient, in a lively, readable style that makes you want to run out plant a garden, fill a market basket, and start cooking. No recipes, though, and that's the point. If you know what you're doing, you don't really need them.

Davies is an actress and screenwriter; she co-wrote the original script for Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, and started a small publishing house called Exterminating Angel Press (named for the dark film by Luis Bunuel).

However, for all its good intentions (that nourishing yourself and loved ones can change the world) Jam Today reads rather like a series of posts by a wordy blogger; it's like listening to a particularly chatty guest at a boring dinner party, or like watching a babbling host on the Food Channel. Your mileage may vary, but for Cornichon, at least, a small taste was plenty.

Davies reads from her book tomorrow at 7 PM at the University Bookstore and Thursday at 5 PM at 5 PM at Pilot Books on Broadway.

First thing you should learn about taking pictures (though many, many never do) is that it's all about the light. Even before holding the camera steady and getting your subject in focus, nothing you do is as important, especially if you're taking pictures of food. A digital camera makes it both too easy and impossible, since the everything looks bright on the tiny screen but the in-your-face flash washes out all the details. Oh, what to do? What to do?

Help is on the way. New York photographer Lou Mann (LouTheMan.com!!)is coming to teach our legions of food-blogging picture-snappers some tricks. (That's his picture on the right, by the way.) Not that we don't have excellent food photographers and stylists locally; our friend Lara Feroni of PlatesAndPacks even ran a food photography meetup in Seattle, but Lou is the real deal, an out-of-town expert with cred. Ex-NY Times lensman, prof at the School for Visual Arts, "Olympus Visionary" (for the camera company), author of Digital Food Photography.

Mann will teach an all-day workshop called FoodSnap! at the Georgetown Studios on Friday, Sept. 18th. (It's an ideal venue for photography, often rented for commercials and advertising shoots, owned by photographer Kathryn Barnard herself a professional photographer.)

FoodSnap! is co-sponsored by Keren Brown Media (and food blooger, as Frantic Foodie) and the folks at Foodista.com. Tickets ($180) at BrownPaperTickets.com. A separate event this weekend at Rover's is already sold out.

Why the name caprese in the first place? As is often the case, it's named for its place of origin, in this case the Mediterranean isle of Capri, off the coast of Naples, a simple salad of tomatoes and local cheese, mozzarella. Campania, the region surrounding Naples, is known throughout the world for the fresh, often handmade cheese produced from the milk of local water buffalo, officially certified mozzarella di bufala. This is heavenly stuff, simultaneously tart and rich with butterfat; it bears little resemblance to the processed, shredded and bagged product that ends up strewn on inferior pizzas. Three-ounce balls of mozzarella di bufala aren't cheap; even the Costco version (yes, Costco!) costs three or four bucks apiece. There's a middle ground, called Fior di Latte, made from cow's milk, that's neither chalky nor plastic, perfectly acceptable and half the price.

We've enjoyed caprese salads all summer, most recently as an heirloom tomato salad at Steelhead Diner, where it was dressed with both pesto and saba (a wine reduction). In Palermo, Sicily, earlier this year, Cornichon enjoyed a superb caprese at an outdoor café. Easy to do at home, as long as you use the right ingredients: firm tomatoes, highest quality olive oil. Seattle's ultimate Italian Mamma, Enza Sorrentino, explained it all to her cooking students this week at La Mondellina in Magnolia: you can read the recipe here and watch the video here.

Steelhead Diner, 95 Pine St., 206-625-0129   
La Mondellina, 3111 W. McGraw, 206-282-4423   

Toronto-born corporate chef Bruce Pinkerton came to Seattle some 20 years ago to help open a hotel, since bulldozed. He stayed on, though, and launched the concept of Designed Dinners, a food preparation center and take-out kitchen. The meal-assembly "industry" continues to grow nationally; Pinkerton's business expanded to several locations, most recently at 2nd and Denny in Belltown, and he added Urban Wine Cafe earlier this year.

Then opportunity really knocked. The café in the complex of high-tech buildings along Elliott Avenue (F5, Classsmates.com, Clear Channel), a barebones corporate lunchroom, came up for lease. Over 2,000 employees had nowhere else to eat. Pinkerton and his crew transformed the space in just eight days and managed to open the handsome, new Urban Cafe on 09 09 09.

There's seating in the pastel-green café for about 30; the menu begins with breakfast, and moves on to soups, do-it-yourself salads, sandwiches and specials (displayed on a hi-def TV screen) like chicken breasts or pork chops. Pinkerton will also cater the various in-house events, and use the café's generously sized kitchen (and new, walk-in freezer) to produce his Designed Dinners. Is it gourmet cuisine? No, of course not, although our cumin-scented, pulled-pork panino on ciabata was clearly a notch (or two or three) above standard lunch counter fare. Pinkerton's customers, whether eat-in or take-out, don't want surprises, they want balance, reassurance and comfort: the essence of food.

Urban Café, 351 Eliott Ave. W., Seattle 206-282-0568 

She's Zofia Smardz, deputy travel editor of the Washington Post, whose article on indifferent meals in Paris was featured in yesterday's Seattle Times. He's Michael Steinberger, wine columnist for Slate, whose recent book, Au Revoir to All That, argues that French gastronomy is in fatal decline. Between them, you'd think France was knee-deep in crummy croissants and plastic cheese.

Steinberger is something of a hypocrite, however. For all his lamenting the state of French gastronomy, he celebrates the victory of artisanal producers of Camembert over industrial dairies; he even wrote a piece for Slate (after his book came out) acknowledging that France still makes the world's best wines. We've expressed admiration for Steinberger's wine writing in these columns; it's a pity he now views the world's changing culture with such alarm. It isn't just the French who are losing the battle against industrial food, after all. Michael Pollan's invectives against fecal spam are better researched and more convincing than a nostalgic memoir of an idealized "we'll always have Paris."

Smardz, who graduated from Vassar and holds a Master's in Journalism from UC Berkeley, apparently spent a week in the City of Light, dragging herself from one tourist trap ("well-known locales") to the next, and is shocked, shocked! that she fails to "stumble on" even one decent meal. Hint: try this at home and you'll "stumble on" the same sort of unsurprising fare. The real sin of her article is that she names no names, cites no sources, interviews neither travelers nor restaurateurs. It's pallid, pointless postcard prose, unworthy of a reader's time. If a freelance writer had submitted the piece, Smadz (one hopes) would have sent the flavorless thing back.

Is it possible to eat badly in France? Certainly. Check out Cornichon's first post from France, in fact, some five or six years ago. But all this talk of a decline in French gastronomy is really just a cover-up for the decline in the quality of food and travel writing. Enough, already.

Belltown's buffet is nothing if not cosmopolitan; just look at the stains on Cornichon's napkin this week!

First up, the tastiest dish of the summer. That would be the Porra de Antequera, a sort of gazpacho made with tomatoes, garlic and stale bread, enlivened with chunks of tuna and quarters of hard-boiled egg. It was served as a special occasion item by Paco Pena, the general manager at La Taberna del Alabardero. He's undeterred by the departure of his chef, Jose Maria Larossa, who has returned to Spain; the kitchen seems to run just fine on its own. The dish, by the way, is named for an ancient Andalusian city just north of Malaga.

Newly open for biz at 4th and Wall is Petra Mediterranean Bistro, named for the ancient city in Jordan. Owner Khal Beleh has carpeted and leveled off the floor of the former Rockin' Burrito space and enhanced the floor-to-ceiling windows with embroidered drapes. His menu is predictably Middle Eastern, with a nod to the Greek (in the lentil soup, at least; it tasted like an avgolemono). On the other hand, his shawarmas look more like stir-fries than skewers, with shredded red cabbage, bell peppers and tahini sauce. Beleh didn't become known as the Falafel King by accident; he seems to know what he's doing.

Down the street, Boulangerie Nantaise is ramping up its restaurant activities with more breakfast items and lunchtime salads to accompany its roster of sandwiches. And they recently staged a by-invitation tasting of products from competing bakeries (Essential, Macrina, Le Panier, Columbia City, Grand Central, etc.) in categories ranging from French bakery flagships (baguette and croissant) to specialty breads like olive, potato, and whole wheat. You'd think producers would do this sort of thing regularly, wouldn't you? But artisanal bakers (like artisinal wine makers, like poets and artists) are a proud lot, following their own vision and listening only to their own stories.

Petra Mediterranean Bistro, 2501 4th Avenue
Taberna del Alabardero, 2328 1st Ave
Boulangerie Nantaise 2507 4th Ave.