Cornichon.org

Cave Men

2013-05-17T15:00:00Z

This is the convergence of two stories. We begin 30 years ago with Vince Bryan, a successful neurosurgeon, and his wife, Carol, who had lived in Europe before establishing his practice.

Recognizing the primacy of place for wine grapes, they went on a quest to find the right land for a vineyard. For a year the Bryans pored over reports of soil samples taken around the state during the Depression by the U.S. Geological Survey, They weren't looking for the unique Jory loam of Oregon's Red Hills of Dundee, nor the Willakenzie soil of the Willamette Valley, not even the irrigable desert of the Yakima Valley. Instead, they wanted the almost infertile wasteland of Bordeaux, combined with the mild, frost-free climate of Burgundy.

They found their ideal site on a 900-foot basalt cliff overlooking the Columbia River five miles west of the town of George. In 1980, they bought 700 acres covered with the desert's pale green shrubbery and named it Sagecliffe. The first winery on the site was called Champs de Brionne, but the Bryans' first success was to develop the site's natural amphitheater as a 20,000-seat concert venue. (It's now known as The Gorge and owned by LiveNation.) To take further advantage of Sagecliffe's natural setting, the Bryans called on architect Tom Kundig to develop a luxury resort on the property, which was christened Cave B Inn. At that point, with plenty of grapes from the hilltop vineyards, it made sense to relaunch the wine as a boutique, estate winery also called Cave B.

At about the same time, Freddy Arredondo entered the picture. A chef from Southern California, he had won a scholarship to a culinary academy in Italy, where he crossed paths with a pastry student named Carrie Bryan, daughter of Vince and Carol. Long story short: Freddy and Carrie fell in love and married. Freddy got a degree from the highly respected viticulture and enology program at Walla Walla Community College and joined the family business. After a year as the assistant winemaker under the tutelage of Rusty Figgins, Freddy moved up and took over responsibility for all of Cave B wines. No small ambition, since the business plan is to grow from 4,500 to 15,000 cases.

Vince Bryan is hardly out of the picture; in fact, he's more involved than ever, shepherding the paperwork for the new Ancient Lakes AVA (more on that in an upcoming post). Although he no longer practices clinically, he's busy inventing a plethora of medical devices...and adapting them for uses that include apple picking and salmon restoration.

For his part, Freddy has some of Washington's best fruit to work with. He won double gold medals at the Seattle Wine Awards in 2012 for five of his wines. Not a single one is pinot noir, by the way, though that is what Vince and Carol Bryan thought they were going to grow. When André Tchelistcheff came to visit, in the early days, he recommended white grapes like chardonnay and gewürztraminer; he ended up recognizing the site's great potential for Bordeaux-style reds. Today, in the wind-swept vineyards that slope ever-so-gently toward the river, there are cabernet sauvignon and merlot vines that are almost 30 years old. The roots drive down through the site's entablature of glacial rubble and draw their nourishment from the mineral deposits of the tumultuous Missoula floods. The wine in the glass, you realize, is not unlike what's produced by the merlot vines on the cliffs of Saint Emilion or the cabernet from the flood plains of the Médoc. Vastly different origins, of course, but reflecting its birthplace, wine of its soil.

Cave B Inn & Spa, 344 Silica Rd NW Quincy, WA 98848, 888-785-2283

Tendril is the Night

2013-05-14T17:00:00Z

After last week's Gatsby, this week's Tendril. Get it? (See Fitzgerald, F. Scott.)

Actually out here at SageCliffe, the spectacular setting for Cave B Inn & Spa. Tendril's the name of the restaurant. Came out for a day of touring the vineyards of Washington's latest AVA, Ancient Lakes. More about that shortly. Did I mention that the setting is spectacular? Design by Tom Kundig, by the way, one of the leading architects in the Northwest .

Negroni notebooks, Campari catalogs

2013-05-12T15:00:00Z

So much Campari! So many Negronis! In the US, it's sold at 48 proof, the Campari; at the Duty-Free it's 57 proof, and about half the price. Worth bringing back.

In Seattle, Negronis are almost invariably shaken and served up, with an orange twist that's draped or drooped, depending on the barman's finesse. You don't need to be a mixologist to assemble the Negroni: it's one third gin, one third sweet vermouth, one third Campari. In Italy, it's almost always served over ice in a rocks glass with a slice of orange. At the late, lamented Txori in Belltown, barman Brett Paulson would garnish with a quarter slice, a "flag."

Wine & spirits guy Gary "Gaz" Regan put out a slim book last year about the Negroni. A few anecdotes, a lot of "recipes." I'm not really a fan Negroni recipes (or variations, or deiviations, or "our version"). But I'll make allowances.

The other book in the picture is Italian, Sulle Tracce del Conte, "On the Trail of the Count," by Luca Picchi. He traces the life and drinking habits of a nobleman named Count Camillo Negroni, who, one day in the 1920s asked the waiter at his favorite bar in Florence, the Caffè Casoni, to serve him something stronger than his regular Americano (Campari, vermouth, soda water). The barman substituted gin for the soda water, and the Negroni was born. If you don't read Italian, this blog post by Camper English will fill you in.

If you don't have gin, you can use sparkling wine (Prosecco, Champagne, etc.), but then it's called "Sbagliato"--a mistake. You can use vodka instead, and call it a Negroski. You can use dry vermouth instead of sweet; then it's a Cardinale. There's a whole category of "white" Negronis, made without Campari. (Why bother? Just drink gin.) One recipe adds a measure of water and calls for 12 seconds in the microwave.(Ugh.)

The indispensable ingredient of the true Negroni is, of course, Campari itself, first concocted in Milano in the 19th century by Gaspare Campari, a pharmacist in Milan. In those days, pharmacists were the folks who knew something about distilling and had access to exotic herbs. Today, any high school kid with a chemistry set could do it, but the Europeans were the ones, back in the day, who invented the macerations and tinctures, the amari and digestivi, that we still enjoy today. I'll leave it to historians to explain why today's Campari tastes more syrupy and less distinctively bitter than when I first encountered it; I just try to enjoy one (maybe two) every day. Usually as an aperitif, but occasionally as an after-dinner drink. Yesterday, on a warm spring night, at a sidewalk café in Belltown, surrounded by high-rise condos, with music leaking out of the windows, just watching the passing parade (couples, families, strollers, dogs), with this quintessentially urban drink in your hand, I could even imagine that Seattle was a real city.

The Mediocre Gatsby

2013-05-10T21:30:00Z

The party itself was swell: cocktails and hors d'oeuvres at Henry & Oscar's, the swanky supper club in Belltown owned by Mark and Katie Stern. Then a stroll down to The Big Picture for a preview screening of The Great Gatsby on the theater's new state-of-the-art digital system. A glass of Prosecco and a tub of the white cheddar popcorn, so far, so good, and highly recommended.

Pity that the much-hyped film itself proved to be such a fizzle, bummer, dud and disappointment. As cinema, it's lush but vapid; as a movie, it's a balk, all windup and no delivery. And it's loooong, almost two and a half hours, so there's plenty of time for set pieces on Long Island (those spectacular parties!), in Noo Yawk City (skyscrapers! drama!) interspersed with transitions designed for 3-D viewing.

Director Baz Luhrmann's from egalitarian Australia, so it's understandable that he might not have a feel for the subtle nuances of the F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. This wasn't an issue in his terrific movie from 2001, Moulin Rouge, which was all about artifice. Gatsby, on the other hand, is about social commentary, about the subtleties of class distinctions, and here Luhrmann is just plain heavy-handed.

Everything is over the top: the parties, the music, the cars, the houses, the dialog (far too many "Old Sport"s out of Leonardo diCaprio). Luhrmann sanitizes the role of Meyer Wolfsheim, the toad-like Jewish gangster who's the well-spring of all the evil in the novel, by giving the part to Amitabh Bachchan, a beloved Indian actor who barely gets one scene, and by removing all traces of Fitzgerald's anti-Semitism (except for a single, fleeting reference to "that Kike"). Where Gatsby himself is supposed to be both mysterious and lovable, DiCaprio plays him as aloof. As Daisy, the girl of his dreams, British actress Carey Mulligan is chirpy and clueless. As Nick, the story's narrator, Toby Maguire looks like he's waiting around for the cameras to roll on his next Spider-Man flick.

Luhrmann's worst offense, though, is that he takes the book's title literally: he treats Gatsby's pitiful, self-loathing, hopeless schemes as worthy of admiration, of greatness. He completely misses Fitzgerald's irony and creates, in its stead, an inadvertent portrait of modern manners: the director as charlatan.

Chuck Wolfe's urban manifesto

2013-05-09T06:00:00Z

By day, most days, Chuck Wolfe is a mild-mannered land use attorney. But he harbors another identity, little known even to acquaintances and professional associates in his hometown of Seattle. While no one's looking, Wolfe turns into something else entirely: a theorist with an international, rock-star reputation, admired for his powers of observation and his ability to synthesize from the lucky accidents of everyday urban life an overall theory of why the world is arranged as it is. Not the geopolitical world, not the agricultural or industrial world, but the world of people, of cities. (We are both contributors to Crosscut, which is publishing Wolfe's latest essay on Thursday.)

Wolfe's notes and thoughts have now been compiled in a book titled Urbanism Without Effort, published one week ago by Island Press and already a steady bestseller. "A must-read" says the blurb from none other than Seattle Mayor Mike McGinn on the publisher's website.

Urbanism Without Effort is both Wolfe's title and his motto. He recognizes that the term "built environment" means different things to different people. Paris is Paris, and Seattle is Seattle, but each person's Paris, each person's Seattle, is different. Radical as it may seem: you have to figure your city out for yourself.

Two years ago, in a column published by Huffington Post, Wolfe articulated his notion that the way to understand the urban environment was, simply, to record it. Wolfe urged his readers to bypass the academic debates over what, precisely, should be recorded, and how, precisely, it should be interpreted. Instead, he posited a citizen-journalist's approach: just observe. (Wolfe's father was a respected professor of urban design at the University of Washington who taught him that the most important thing you can do is learn how to see.) Go for a walk and write a paragraph about the experience. Take pictures of locations in your neighborhood. Videotape street life around you. Wolfe's manifesto up-ends the power structure of academics, architects and bureaucratic city planners in much the same way that hyper-local blogging eroded the power structure of newspapers.

The result is, first, a challenge: pay attention to your surroundings, everyone! And second, to empower individuals, to give them permission not just to look at the streetscape and the trees but to react to them.

Of course, you say, that's nothing new. People have always done that. Exactly! Urban planning isn't some newfangled notion dreamed up by dwellers of an ivory tower, it's always been there;from the very first settlements, man has built what was needed for protection and food with the most readily available materials. And bureaucracy has often imposed solutions that are less than ideal. "Why shouldn't we have zip-lines between Italian hill towns?" Wolfe asks. "For that matter, why shouldn't we have them in Seattle parks?"

In the end, the problem with urban planning is precisely that it looks upon the built environment as a problem in need of a solution, however admirable (comfort, entertainment, "walkability"), to be engineered through incentives for developers to act in a certain way. But people, says Wolfe, are far more resourceful. Politicians look for a desired outcome; citizens look for what works. That alley in Madrona with a concrete retaining wall? It becomes the screen for summer movies, the nexus of a community, an entry in Wolfe's own urban diary. What a radical concept!

Urbanism Without Effort, Island Press, and on Kindle at Amazon

NYT says "Go to Marseille"

2013-05-06T21:00:00Z

Yup, that's the plan. Marseille is #2 on the list of the 46 top destinations around the world, according to a feature in the NY Times. The text, by Ondine Cohane, gushes, "A vibrant ethnic melting pot, Marseille is also home to an increasing number of contemporary art and avant-garde performances." Right, and one of Europe's two "Capitals of Culture" for 2013.

We took that photo six months ago, on a tour of the Marseille harbor. That's the Cathedral on the left, and, under the crane, the J1 "hangar," a new performance hall. Looks like they finished it in time. More information on all the events in Marseille here: http://www.mp2013.fr/

Locally, the Times travel gurus recommend the White Salmon River, now flowing freely.

Cafe Nordo takes on the Old West

2013-05-05T16:00:00Z

Restaurants fall into broad categories, but once you get past the stuff-your-face-quickly places, they all have an element of the theatrical. What could be more dramatic, for example, than the simultaneous raising of the cloches in a Michelin-star fine-dining palace, revealing in one stunning moment the dishes of every guest at the table? Café Nordo, Seattle's homegrown enfant terrible of dinner theater, will have none of that artifice, thank you, but that doesn't mean they're averse to serving a meal whose entertainment value laces honest food and stiff drinks with a message of political satire.

Nordo's current production, "Smoked," is a tribute to the American Western, epitomized by "Gunsmoke," the long-running (9 years on radio, 20 seasons on TV) series that came to define the entire genre of Western soap opera with its stoic lawman, its bawdy saloonkeeper, its mysterious stranger.

As it happens, Marshall Matt Dillon's namesake, Seattle chef Matt Dillon, has just opened a restaurant, Bar Sajor, a block from the Pioneer Square space where "Smoked" is playing. But you won't be deprived at "Smoked." There's a four-course menu, expertly prepared by Nordo's director and co-producer, Erin Brindley, in a real restaurant kitchen ("The Kitchen at Delicatus," an offshoot of the Delicatus deli two blocks away). True to the "spaghetti western" theme, the fare is politically correct "Molecular Chuck Wagon" (shredded zucchini "spaghetti" with mozzarella "meatballs", a delicious oxtail chili, a rhubarb pandowdy). The evening also includes five cocktails (a sparkling Campari aperitif, a gin martini, a whiskey sour, a Toronto, etc.). In fact, sustainable food is a recurring theme in the Nordo shows, with regular jabs at fast food and Monsanto-style engineered ingredients. The published manifesto begins thus: "In Café Nordo's pursuit of unadulterated digestions, theatrical cuisine combats the theology of blandness that permeates our culture," which can be read as an overly earnest proclamation or as self-protective satire, or both at once.

Café Nordo productions typically rely on American sterotypes like TV shows, airplanes, chickens, and the circus. Terry Podgorski, who writes the shows, uses iconic subjects so that his cast of semi-professionals doesn't waste time setting up the stock characters; the audience already knows them. In the most recent show, the Twin Peaks parody "Somethin' Burning," Podgorski even killed off the company's namesake, the mythical martinet Chef Nordo Lefesczki, so you have to wonder whether the conceit wasn't wearing a bit thin after all these years. But no, the show retains its charm and homespun lack of pretense. Composer and keyboard artist Annastasia Workman leads a band of musicians in original music that ably channels the tone of Ennio Moricone's spaghetti westerns (more archetypes!) The trumpeter, Evan Mosher, doubles as one of the patrons of the saloon, who gather to await the hanging of a local kid who had the audacity to set fire to a field of wheat, an act of eco-terrorism punishable by death. "Hanging brings people together," one of the characters says, menacingly. (You can almost predict that the next song would be titled "A Noose of One's Own.")

"Ninety proof self-pity," says Opal Peachey, who plays saloonkeeper Clara Still. As Cornichon has written before, Brindley and Podgorski nuzzle right up to the line of self-parody but don't cross it. Most of the company have been together since the original Circus Contraption days, and have worked together on the Café Nordo concept for years.

The "Smoked" saloon set takes up half the intimate space, with the band tucked up in the balcony, so there's room for just over 50 patrons a night. But for the first time, there's also a real kitchen, so the food's as good as the drinks. It's dinner theater, not Shakespeare, after all, meant to be savored and enjoyed. A few drinks, a few laughs, you could do a lot worse in Pioneer Square these days.

Café Nordo presents "Smoked," at The Kitchen by Delicatus, 309 First Ave. S., Seattle. Performances Thursday, Friday & Saturday through June 6th. Must be over 21 to attend. Tickets start at $60 ($5 additional on weekends, $10 more for the cocktail flight) via Brown Paper Tickets.

The Young Cannibals

2013-05-02T15:30:00Z

You know it's the beginning of the end when the daily deal sites begin to eat each other's young. And it's getting worse. Here's today's Living Social newsletter:

Of course, Restaurant.com is simply another daily deal site. For a couple of bucks, you buy a (Living Social) coupon that lets you buy more (Restaurant.com) coupons. Unbelievable.

There's a reason these outfits continue to operate: ignorance and greed on the part of small restaurant owners. But they are enabled by bargain-hunting cheapskates who see nothing wrong with trying to get the best possible deal. Bullshit. The best possible deal you can do is paying as close to full price as you can. This allows the restaurants to stay in business, to pay their employees a living wage, pay their rent, their suppliers and their taxes.

If all restaurant owners treated their customers right, like valuable clients, we'd have no problem. But all to many restaurants are going for the quick hit: more butts in seats, even if it actually costs them out-of-pocket. Self-fulfilling prophecy: look upon your customers as cheapstakes, and they'll act like cheapskates. Restaurant owners need to invest in ongoing promotions directed at their regular clients. Cafe Presse and Blueacre Seafood (among many, but not enough) know this. They deserve your support. Daily deal sites like Groupon, Restaurant.com, LivingSocial suck the life blood out of restaurants. Avoid them like the plague.

And should you need additional confirmation that a "discounted" price is not the determining factor in restaurant choices, read this, out just this morning. What brings people back? Quality.

Carmine's without Carmine

2013-05-01T18:30:00Z

It's hard not to use the word "icon" when talking about Il Terrazzo Carmine. Sheer longevity, if nothing else: it's just short of 30 years old, an eternity in the fast-moving hospitality industry. The restaurant is tucked inside a handsome brick & stone building in the heart of Pioneer Square, at First & Jackson, overlooking a little patch of garden (the terrace, the terrazzo). The Carmine part, that's for Carmine Smeraldo, born in Naples, who worked his way up from cleaning hotel toilets to a spot at the right hand of the longtime restaurateur who brought northern Italian cuisine to Vancouver, BC: Umberto Menghe.

In the 1970s and 1980s, Menghe was opening restaurants at a furious pace, and he sent Carmine down to Seattle to test the waters. First came Umberto's Ristorante on King Street, then, in 1984,a block away, Il Terrazzo.

Menghe himself withdrew from Seattle a few years later, and Umberto's closed, but Il Terrazzo remained and was given the additional name "Carmine's." For decades it has been the touchstone of a warm, elegant Italian style of dining. You wouldn't call it "rustic" because that implies bare tabletops and mismatched china, but it's hardly stuffy or starchy-formal. Carmine attracted great talent. Luciano Bardinelli, for example, now semi-retired on the California coast; Scott Carsberg, for another.

At the heart of Il Terrazzo is the spread of antipasti misti, the display of vegetables and cold cuts so common in Italy (and finally at a couple of places in Seattle: The Whale Wins, Bar Sajor). A daily menu of fish, grilled meat, homemade pasta. A wine list that doesn't neglect famous bottles yet remains accessible. Service that's attentive without being overbearing.

A recent lunch included a caprese salad with mozzarella di bufala flown in from Campania, and a risotto with English peas and fragrant porcini. The veal-stuffed cannelloni were smothered with a sauce that tasted of fresh tomatoes. The restaurant buzzed with contentment.

Until he passed away suddenly at the beginning of 2012, Carmine himself ran the dining room with unflagging energy. Today his longtime associate, George Dyksterhuis, is at the podium, greeting a steady line of guests out for a celebratory lunch. This is not a parade of mourners but of regulars who return for the pleasure and familiarity of the elegant room and the superb food.

There's always the danger, when an owner dies, that a restaurant will stumble or lose its way. That has not happened at Carmine's. Il Terrazzo is in good hands; Carmine's soul is still alive.

Il Terrazzo Carmine, 411 1st Avenue, Seattle, 206-467-7797

The view from here

2013-04-30T18:00:00Z

Couple of old standby waterfront restaurants have reopened after remodeling. A quick look.

First, Ivar's Salmon House on the north end of Lake Union.

Before we talk about the food, though, let's brush up on our high school biology. As you know, class, whales are mammals, which means they give birth to live young. To facilitate reproduction, the anatomy of the male whale (like virtually all mammals except for humans) includes a bone-like appendage called a baculum. It's usually tucked away except when the whale is mating, because it's between 6 and 10 feet long. In other words, a giant boner-bone. (We can hear you giggling back there, Timmy.) And yes, boys and girls, there really are a couple of "whale makers" in the newly remodeled Whalemaker Lounge. Alaskan natives have a word for baculum, by the way: oosik.

Okay, so they closed the lounge for three months and completely remodeled. New tables, new fireplace, new chef (Steve Anderson, down from the Ivar's in Mukilteo), new menu (the salmon skewers with peach-currant chutney are da bomb). Unchanged: the deck off the lounge, where you look back at the Seattle skyline, probably the best in the city.

Also unchanged: two 8-foot oosiks flanking the booze behind the bar. And Timmy, if you don't stop giggling, you'll have to stay after school, even if Ivar Haglund himself thought it was pretty funny, too.

Ivar's Salmon House, 401 N. Northlake Way, Seattle, 206-632-0767

Below: the "on the water" deck at Ivar's Salmon House; the bar with its two oosiks; exec chef Anderson; salmon skewers.

Meanwhile, down in Tacoma: after a three-month shutdown for major remodeling, the popular Harbor Lights restaurant on Ruston Way, overlooking Commencement Bay, has reopened with a new menu and much, much bigger windows.

A full 70 prerent of the menu is new, according to Lane Hoss, marketing director of Anthony's Restaurants: seared scallops with bacon jam, Dungeness crab cakes, and, at lunch, an oyster po' boy and a crab toast. The landmark eatery has retained its most iconic dishes, however. Pan-fried oysters ($16.95) are still on the menu; so is the four-pound Bucket of Clams ($34.95).

A few more things that will not change: the nectar chowder, the extravagant Captain's Platter and the impossible-to-drop surf-and-turf menu, along with one of top attractions at Harbor Lights: truly stiff drinks.

When a Yugoslavian immigrant named Anthony Barcott opened Harbor Lights in 1959, the waterfront was industrial: ship yards and lumber mills. It became part of the local Anthony's chain in 2000. Today, Ruston Way has been gentrified. Seafood restaurants abound (Duke's, the Ram, Lobster Shack), along with a bicycle path and pedestrian walkway.

Another thing that's unchanged: guests can sail right up to Harbor Lights for free moorage. And once inside, guests have a 180-degree view that takes in Mt. Rainier and all of Commencement Bay.

Harbor Lights, 2761 Ruston Way, Tacoma, 253-752-8600

Wines, Sweet & Sour

2013-04-29T17:00:00Z

Up from the cellar with bottle he came,

Nectar from heaven at Chateau Yquem

(Noo Yawk) Timz sayin sweet wine from France is all dunzo
'Xept for the Chinese who still think it's funzo

"No market, no market," said this little piggy
"The world thinks of Sauternes as tasting too figgy"

Spurred on to a better bite

2013-04-28T19:00:00Z

When celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay converted Everett's Prohibition Grille into Prohibition Gastropub, he was simply putting a new name on traditional, if fancified, pub grub. See the last six posts; it was a made-for-TV makeover that descended on Hewitt Avenue like an alien space ship, confusing and scaring off many regulars (who may actually have preferred the week-old "soup of the day" and braised "pork wings"). Time will tell.

Meantime, back in Belltown five years ago, a couple of ambitious but low-key Seattle chefs launched their first joint venture, Spur, as a high-end gastropub. Cornichon was originally a bit put off by the pretentiousness of the fare; there was already a perfectly good gastropub, Black Bottle, just down the street, that wouldn't dream of using a word like gastrique on its menu. Still, Spur prospered, and the chefs, Brian McCracken and Dana Tough, went on to open two more restaurants, Tavern Law on Capitol Hill and The Coterie Room virtually next door to Spur.

At Spur these days, the duo continues to turn out food that far exceeds the "gastropub" image. Take, for example, a dish called Sockeye Salmon Crostini. It's pricey, at $4 per bite, but you won't find anything quite like it anywhere else. The salmon is poached sous vide, served on a bed of marscapone with some capers and pickled shallots atop a perfectly toasted slice of bread. (Drop of olive oil and garnish of microgreens: gilding the lily.)

It's a shame to eat this in one bite, so feel free to use your knife and fork. You'll understand in a flash why so much is made of New York's lox-and-bagel breakfasts; there's a unctuousness to the salmon, underscored by the creamy cheese, offset by the sharpness of the condiments and the crunchiness of the crostini. It's one of those transcendent moments

Posted recently about a similar transcendent moment, the Beef Lips Terrine Dijonnaise at Radiator Whiskey. Also a bite to remember, but truth be told, the salmon crostini is better.

Spur Gastropub, 113 Blanchard St., Seattle, 206-728-6706 :

Rishi's Kitchen Nightmare: It's Finally Over

2013-04-27T18:30:00Z

Fox TV's Kitchen Nightmares show descended on Everett's Prohibition Grille back in December; the show finally aired last night.

In the kabuki of reality TV, the first half of the drama is to break the central character's pride. True to form, bad-boy Gordon Ramsay tears into Darlene "Rishi" Brown. Words an owner doesn't want to hear from the consultant who's job is to save her restaurant: "slop," "hideous," "dreadful," "disgusting," "an embarrassment." And that's after you've told him, on camera, that you think your food is a ten out of ten. Though the restaurant is named Prohibition Grille and calls itself a gourmet-Southern steakhouse, there's no actual grill in the kitchen.

Pin the blame on the tough guy in the kitchen, Edward Trabue, a lazy dude with beard and ponytail who goes by "Chef Rocky" and takes it personally if a customer sends back a dish. He's on his cell, he's puffing away out back while the tickets stack up. "We text him with the orders," a waitress tells the cameras. But it's not all Rocky's fault. Rishi stays out of the kitchen but imposes her penchant for belly dancing on the dining room every night. "Rishi is naive," says one of her employees. "Clueless," says another. "It frustrates us all that Rishi thinks everything's okay."

Rishi doesn't miss an opportunity to play dumb. "I thought soup-of-the-day just meant whatever soup you're serving." And "I thought fresh meant 'not frozen.'" Confused, "mortified," she finally admits to Chef Ramsay, that she's losing a couple of grand a week but is afraid to confront Rocky. "I'm just so scared," she confesses, breaking into tears.

It's the moment that the producers have been waiting for. Ramsay swivels from his dickish persona to his soft side, promising Rishi that he'll do everything he can to support her, but she has to promise she'll fire Rocky.

Once that's done (painlessly it turns out), the makeover begins. Seattle chef Tyler Palagi is brought in for a couple of weeks to run the kitchen; Rishi gets a new haircut and a pants suit and promises to leave belly dancing behind. Ramsay shows the staff that they shouldn't be intimidated by the kitchen and introduces a much-simplified "gastropub" menu. Overnight, a crew of contractors comes in to repaint the bar (bright lacquered red) and add decorative touches to the walls.

A crew of 40 taped every word, every bite, then went on to the next production. On her own, Rishi faced a string of holiday parties for customers who kinda liked the old menu better,

The chef that Tyler brought in didn't work out, so Rishi found her own "consulting chef," a woman named Marketta Schreck who runs the kitchen at a private club (The Ruins) and mentors Rish's two line cooks, Jeff and Dennis. "Marketta is amazing and is helping me with menu development and quality control in our kitchen. I love working with another woman."

We need to keep in mind that restaurant makeover shows really have almost nothing to do with cooking, or even with hospitality management. They're about makeovers for people.

Rishi herself has stayed in touch by email. She promised Ramsay she wouldn't do any belly dancing in the restaurant but she has booked a full slate of bands five nights a week. "I keep reminding myself if I succeeded through all of that [the first four years] I can definitely survive this positive opportunity for change and growth."

Prohibition Gastropub, 1414 Hewitt Avenue, Everett, 425-258-6100

Rishi's Kitchen Nightmare: What's Cooking?

2013-04-26T17:00:00Z

When Kitchen Nightmares, the Fox TV makeover show, descended upon a modest joint in downtown Everett last December, the producers invited Cornichon to join the pre- and post-makeover diners. Until this week, we were under a tight non-disclosure agreement. Here's what really happened; the full story is on TV tonight at 8.

Top row, from left: Rishi and interim chef Tyler Pilagi, Grey Goose martini in green glass, onion soup, wedge salad. Bottom row: crab cakes, salmon, pork shoulder, bread pudding.

The first night, early December, at the Prohibition Grille on Hewitt Avenue:

A big dollop of restaurant-supply coleslaw and a slab of cornbread accompany the dinner plates, honey optional. The pork "wings" are particularly good, several braised smoked shanks. Oysters and the prawns come with a sweet, goopy dipping sauce; the crab cakes contain more filler than one finds at, say Steelhead Diner in the Pike Place Market, but Prohibition ain't that kind of spot. It's a old-fashioned bar & grill, for heaven's sake, not Canlis. It's the sort of place where a lot of the "fresh" food comes in the back door frozen, and moves via the fryer onto the customer's plate.

Suddenly, the sounds of a kitchen confrontation in the front half of the building break through. "The restaurant is being shut down," comes an announcement. "Stop eating!" Celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay, in the house with camera teams and sound men following his every move, has apparently found something untoward in the kitchen.

A harried gent bursts into the room and crashes through the fire door out to the parking lot. That would turn out to be Chef Rocky, longtime employee (real name Edward Trabue), taking his leave. Many of the diners haven't been served yet, but everyone shuffles into the night.

Two days later, we're waiting in a tent down the block for the "reveal."

Lights outside to catch people coming in. It's no longer Prohibition Grille but Prohibition Gastropub. (Wouldn't you know it, Ramsay owns three or four gastropubs in England.) The decor is brighter, with the bar newly painted bright red, and broad golden chevrons zig-zagging across the walls and tables. Rishi trades in her miniskirt for a pants suit.

Tyler Palagi, who's been in the news quite a bit lately (Matt's in the Market, Radiator Whiskey) is on hand to run the kitchen for the re-launch. Brought in for a couple of weeks to hire and train a new chef, he runs into snags. The first chef lands in jail. The second doesn't work out.

And the restaurant's belly-dancing owner, Darlene "Rishi" Brown, poor thing, has 16 private holiday parties on the books for December, all faithful followers of her old menu. "Oh boy, what a scene," she tells me later. Her established customer base is "really pissed off about the change," as she puts it. "They're not coming in, they've beat me to shreds, accused me of selling out."

What keeps her going is that Chef Ramsay has faith in her, feels she's worth helping, even though she had no restaurant experience at all when she bought the restaurant. "I didn't even realize how much help I needed," she confesses. Her current consulting chef is Marketta Schreck of The Ruins; she's happy--and feels less threatened--to be working with a woman.

And the new "gastropub" menu continues to evolve. Good thing, because the food on that second night is pretty dry, under-seasoned and under-dressed. (I blame nervous cooks.)

The show ends on a positive note, though (as all makeovers do). Happy diners, big crowds. In real life, maybe not so much. But Rishi remains positive. "I never once looked back and stayed focused on the blessing that Chef Ramsay felt I was worth helping."

Ya see? Redemption. Classic third act curtain.

Prohibition Gastropub, 1414 Hewitt Avenue, Everett, 425-258-6100

Rishi's Kitchen Nightmare: The Makeover

2013-04-25T18:00:00Z

We're spending the week in anticipation of Friday's Kitchen Nightmare episode, the makeover of Prohibition Bar & Grill in Everett. Gordon Ramsay guides owner "Rishi" Brown toward a new persona.

Gordon Ramsay's first success came as a 15-year-old soccer star in his native Scotland. He left sports to study hotel management and wound up joining London's reigning celebrity chef Marco Pierre White as a cook. Stints with the likes of Albert Roux, Guy Savoy and Joel Robuchon followed. Before long, Ramsay had his own place, then another and another, all operating at the perilous, unforgiving upper levels of gastronomy. His restaurants have been awarded over a dozen Michelin stars. Along the way Ramsay also wrote half a dozen cookbooks that have sold 4 million copies.

To promote the books and the restaurants, Ramsay owns and manages a media company that produces his various TV shows; in addition to Kitchen Nightmares (2008), US audiences have seen him in Hell's Kitchen and the F Word. Ramsay is 46 years old, retains his boyish good looks and tousled hair. He's married (his father-in-law was his longtime business partner) and short of temper; he can intimidate kitchen underlings with a barrage of obscenities, but turn on a dime, seducing his dining room guests with upper class British charm. (He's also easy to parody: here he is as a Swedish chef.) His onscreen persona is that of a very talented (and mostly quite personable) chef who is passionate about good food and cares deeply about people.

What threw him for a loop in Everett, at Darlene "Rishi" Brown's Prohibition Grille, were two anomalies. First, a chef who had apparently given up. Second was Rishi's side business: teaching belly dancing. (There's a belly-dancing clip in Monday's Cornichon post.) Solution: get Rishi to drop the belly dancing and fire the chef. Easier said than done: it required her to be more assertive and take more responsibility than she was used to.

We've mentioned before that "reality" shows have very little to do with the realities of actually working in a professional kitchen. You won't learn how to make restaurant food by watching Kitchen Nightmares (although Ramsay does a brief demonstration in the clip that follows); the shows are more like mini-confessionals, unscripted before taping and given the semblance of a coherent narrative and dramatic arc in the editing room.

Anyway: here's another preview clip. A couple of Cornichon's colleagues make cameo appearances:

Prohibition Grille, 1414 Hewitt Ave., Everett, 425-258-6100.
Kitchen Nightmares airs Friday at 8 PM on Fox TV