Although we will be gone a mere four days, packing always feels like an ordeal. Where's a matching pair of black trouser socks? What happened to Michael's travel sized shaving cream? Do we have enough change for bus fare to the airport? And why do I do this the night before we leave?
I ought to be something of an expert on packing, I suppose. And I am, in fact, pretty good at the packing light thing. That, naturally, makes me cringe when I see Michael loading up with game console cables and controllers and bachelor party gag gifts. Are we really going to be able to carry on all this junk? But this is the difference between packing for travel and packing for an event such as a brother-in-law's wedding. As Michael is the best man, he's been plotting the bachelor party for weeks and, being the perfectionist that he is, this means accumulating plenty of potential entertainment in the form of movies, games, and gags to fill up the evening - this after he has already planned a trip to a hookah bar and comedy club. I did convince him we should purchase the wedding gift in Las Vegas, however. Precious little that we would want to offer to the happy couple would fit neatly in a Rick Steves' suitcase along with our weekend wardrobe.
It will be a relief to be on the plane tomorrow, leaving the daily grind behind for a few days, heading for a celebration. Of course, just finishing up with the packing will make me feel a lot better, too. Speaking of which... I guess I'd better get packing!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Springtime of My Life
It's that time again! Spring is upon us! Well, technically winter has not yet run its course, but the month of March means that Dine Around Seattle is back, and for us that meant dinner tonight at Spring Hill. Back in November I wrote of our Dine Around experiences at Restaurant Zoe and Crush, taking advantage of the seasonal offerings of three courses for $30, and this time we decided to venture out of our usual neighborhoods to West Seattle. Even though it is only about a twenty minute drive away, I always feel like I'm going on vacation when I head to West Seattle. There must be some psychological advantage in leaving downtown behind as you cross the West Seattle Bridge.
Lewissa joined us for a wonderful meal. Starting with a butter lettuce salad lightly coated in a zingy citrus vinaigrette and studded with radishes, herbs, and Parmesan, I really felt as though spring had arrived on a plate.
All the entrees were excellent, and in this course we were lucky enough to have each chosen one of the three options, giving us all the chance to try a little taste of everything. Lewissa's chicken breast, while that hardly sounds like an exciting choice, was poached to perfection and tasted of citrus in each tender bit. Michael steak came elegantly fanned over caramelized potatoes in a pool of creamed spinach, rich in flavor yet not at all heavy. The vegetarian option was a strudel filled with spiced chick peas and chard, earthy and filling inside the crispest of crusts. Tangy yogurt sauce and warmed grapefruit slices provided a nice balance to the darker flavors of the strudel, along with tender roasted cauliflower.
There's something about grapefruit that has been lightly cooked served alongside a hot entree. The little bit of heat mellows the grapefruit nicely, taming the tartness but still adding tang to a dish that would otherwise feel too rich. I never would have thought to serve it alongside cauliflower, chard, and chickpeas, but it kept the dish interesting and elevated it above some of the more uninspired vegetarian fare.
For dessert, none of us could resist the call of chocolate fudge cake with salted peanut ice cream. Michael and I both consider peanut butter and chocolate to be our favorite ice cream flavor, so we had high hopes for this dish, and luckily were not disappointed. The thinnest slice of rich chocolate cake, topped with meltingly soft peanut ice cream with just the right touch of salt, a ribbon of dense chocolate sauce, and candied peanuts came close to perfection. I love the combination of salty and sweet (isn't that why we find kettle corn so irresistible?), and this dessert nailed it.
And now, as I sit typing this, I still feel full and content. No question, it was worth the trip to West Seattle.
Lewissa joined us for a wonderful meal. Starting with a butter lettuce salad lightly coated in a zingy citrus vinaigrette and studded with radishes, herbs, and Parmesan, I really felt as though spring had arrived on a plate.
All the entrees were excellent, and in this course we were lucky enough to have each chosen one of the three options, giving us all the chance to try a little taste of everything. Lewissa's chicken breast, while that hardly sounds like an exciting choice, was poached to perfection and tasted of citrus in each tender bit. Michael steak came elegantly fanned over caramelized potatoes in a pool of creamed spinach, rich in flavor yet not at all heavy. The vegetarian option was a strudel filled with spiced chick peas and chard, earthy and filling inside the crispest of crusts. Tangy yogurt sauce and warmed grapefruit slices provided a nice balance to the darker flavors of the strudel, along with tender roasted cauliflower.
There's something about grapefruit that has been lightly cooked served alongside a hot entree. The little bit of heat mellows the grapefruit nicely, taming the tartness but still adding tang to a dish that would otherwise feel too rich. I never would have thought to serve it alongside cauliflower, chard, and chickpeas, but it kept the dish interesting and elevated it above some of the more uninspired vegetarian fare.
For dessert, none of us could resist the call of chocolate fudge cake with salted peanut ice cream. Michael and I both consider peanut butter and chocolate to be our favorite ice cream flavor, so we had high hopes for this dish, and luckily were not disappointed. The thinnest slice of rich chocolate cake, topped with meltingly soft peanut ice cream with just the right touch of salt, a ribbon of dense chocolate sauce, and candied peanuts came close to perfection. I love the combination of salty and sweet (isn't that why we find kettle corn so irresistible?), and this dessert nailed it.
And now, as I sit typing this, I still feel full and content. No question, it was worth the trip to West Seattle.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Adventures in Bike Commuting
Despite the fact that I have worked there for almost three years, until last Saturday I had never biked to Europe Through the Back Door. While working at the UW, biking was my primary means of transportation for a large part of the year, so this was a real difference to me. Of course, biking to the UW was also a snap - about five or six miles along the flat Burke Gilman Trail, with the only real hill being the one I had to crawl back up to get to 130th Street at the end of my commute home. Getting to downtown Edmonds is another story.
The trip on Saturday morning wasn't too bad, however. Sure, it had its ups and downs, but I made it to the Aurora Village transit Center in time to catch the 131, providing me with the ease of bussing in for the last third of the trip. My bike stayed at work over the weekend, and then Monday I was struck by a strange urge to ride it all the way home, rather than take the easy way out and use the bus part way.
Had I known what I was in for, I don't know if I would have made the same decision.
I'm very aware of the fact that there are numerous hills filling in the approximately twelve miles between downtown Edmonds and my Lake City home, and traffic, to boot. Wanting to avoid some of the hills I chose to sail down Edmonds Way, which meant I had to deal with the traffic instead. A word to the wise: don't bike down Edmonds Way if you can help it. This is a road with almost no shoulder, and although there are two lanes heading in each direction, and traffic wasn't even particularly heavy, you would be surprised at how many people will whiz by at 40 miles per hour, not bothering to shift over to the empty lane on their left despite the fact that they are a mere foot from a stalwart cyclist. I could just see myself meeting my demise by tripping over a grate just as a Lexus SUV barreled by. It wasn't a pretty thought.
After that experience, I was more than happy to move to less crowded streets. Feeling pretty good about myself, I cycled down 185th Street, and was greeted by the most monstrous hill I could have imagined. Apparently I had chosen Shoreline's steepest street when I figured out my new route home, and there was no way I could pedal up this behemoth. Panting, I made it to the top , wheeling the bike beside me. I really do believe the top of the 185th Street hill must be the highest point in all of Shoreline. I could see both the Olympics and the Cascades over the lesser hills to my east and west, but frankly, given the way I was feeling at that point, I can't say I appreciated the view.
The good part was that it really was almost all downhill from there. A very long, winding way down. The bad part was that it was bone-chillingly cold, and by the time I got to the entrance to the Burke Gilman Trail in Lake Forest Park my hands were like red lobster claws numbed into place. I could barely zip my sweater, my fingers had become so clumsy. But I was in the home stretch! And I only had to get off and walk my bike two more times on the way up from the Burke! Woohoo!
Still, I may try this again - avoiding Edmonds Way, of course. And probably that 185th Street hill. Why do we have so many hills here, anyway? Who said Seattle is a bike friendly city? Ah well, without the hills I guess we'd be the Midwest, so I should probably count my blessings.
The trip on Saturday morning wasn't too bad, however. Sure, it had its ups and downs, but I made it to the Aurora Village transit Center in time to catch the 131, providing me with the ease of bussing in for the last third of the trip. My bike stayed at work over the weekend, and then Monday I was struck by a strange urge to ride it all the way home, rather than take the easy way out and use the bus part way.
Had I known what I was in for, I don't know if I would have made the same decision.
I'm very aware of the fact that there are numerous hills filling in the approximately twelve miles between downtown Edmonds and my Lake City home, and traffic, to boot. Wanting to avoid some of the hills I chose to sail down Edmonds Way, which meant I had to deal with the traffic instead. A word to the wise: don't bike down Edmonds Way if you can help it. This is a road with almost no shoulder, and although there are two lanes heading in each direction, and traffic wasn't even particularly heavy, you would be surprised at how many people will whiz by at 40 miles per hour, not bothering to shift over to the empty lane on their left despite the fact that they are a mere foot from a stalwart cyclist. I could just see myself meeting my demise by tripping over a grate just as a Lexus SUV barreled by. It wasn't a pretty thought.
After that experience, I was more than happy to move to less crowded streets. Feeling pretty good about myself, I cycled down 185th Street, and was greeted by the most monstrous hill I could have imagined. Apparently I had chosen Shoreline's steepest street when I figured out my new route home, and there was no way I could pedal up this behemoth. Panting, I made it to the top , wheeling the bike beside me. I really do believe the top of the 185th Street hill must be the highest point in all of Shoreline. I could see both the Olympics and the Cascades over the lesser hills to my east and west, but frankly, given the way I was feeling at that point, I can't say I appreciated the view.
The good part was that it really was almost all downhill from there. A very long, winding way down. The bad part was that it was bone-chillingly cold, and by the time I got to the entrance to the Burke Gilman Trail in Lake Forest Park my hands were like red lobster claws numbed into place. I could barely zip my sweater, my fingers had become so clumsy. But I was in the home stretch! And I only had to get off and walk my bike two more times on the way up from the Burke! Woohoo!
Still, I may try this again - avoiding Edmonds Way, of course. And probably that 185th Street hill. Why do we have so many hills here, anyway? Who said Seattle is a bike friendly city? Ah well, without the hills I guess we'd be the Midwest, so I should probably count my blessings.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Kitchen Confidential
No, I didn't burn the beans again (and as a matter of fact, I successfully cooked cannellini beans for a soup last week, so dried beans and I are currently on friendly terms). But I am wondering - can puddings, once thickened, actually revert back to liquid? And is it possible to overbeat the sugar and eggs for a genoise cake? Today's attempts at dessert making seem to indicate that the answer to these questions is "yes" and "yes". Let's examine this further...
Our friends Doug and Leena, along with their two little kiddlywinks, were coming over for dinner, and I was inspired by a menu in this month's issue of Gourmet to whip up a little Sunday chicken dinner with bourbon banana pudding with glazed pecans for dessert. And really, doesn't that sound fabulous? Who wouldn't want bourbon banana pudding for dessert? The kiddlywinks loved it. You can find the recipe online at www.gourmet.com.
But back to the making of the dessert: I whisked together a mixture of brown sugar, cornstarch, and milk on the stove, bringing it to a boil and creating a lovely, glossy, thick pudding which I incorporated gently with some egg yolks and bourbon. Into the fridge it went to set. A few hours later I pulled out the bowl in high anticipation of scooping out delectable, pillowy spoonfuls of rich pudding soft enough to almost melt on the spoon but still solid enough form lazy ripples over a mound of sponge cake, bananas, and praline. If you need a moment to pause and savor that image, go ahead. I understand completely.
But instead what I found was pudding that had melted to the consistency of milk. Was this because I had used 1% instead of whole milk? What went wrong? It had looked so promising. I managed to salvage the pudding by adding some gelatin, but unfortunately by the time we were ready to eat it was still far from the pudding stage, although at least it had moved on to the creamy sauce stage, and no longer seemed like something that should be served in a glass with a straw.
As for the genoise, I read in Gourmet that it is absolutely essential that you beat your egg batter until the falling batter forms a wide ribbon that holds it's shape when you lift the beater over the bowl. After not quite ten minutes, my batter appeared to be getting close. According to the instructions, that meant to keep beating. So keep beating I did (gotta love those Kitchenaid mixers!).
And I kept beating. And beating. And - hey, if anything it looked less ribbony than 20 minutes ago! What was going on here? I gave up; I folded the egg mixture with the flour and baked my cake. It may have turned out a little flat, but it still tasted fine. But did this come about because I forgot to run the whole eggs under warm water before cracking them open, as the magazine had also suggested? Or did someone out there just not want me to make banana bourbon pudding today?
Well, regardless of the cosmic view of my pudding attempt, it turned out surprisingly well. Poured over cake, bananas, and candied pecans, the non-pudding still worked, and the genoise still soaked in the goodness of the bourbon glaze and the runny pudding sauce. And as I said before, the kids were quite taken with it (as, truth be told, was I). I guess you really can't go wrong with banana bourbon pudding with glazed pecans.
Our friends Doug and Leena, along with their two little kiddlywinks, were coming over for dinner, and I was inspired by a menu in this month's issue of Gourmet to whip up a little Sunday chicken dinner with bourbon banana pudding with glazed pecans for dessert. And really, doesn't that sound fabulous? Who wouldn't want bourbon banana pudding for dessert? The kiddlywinks loved it. You can find the recipe online at www.gourmet.com.
But back to the making of the dessert: I whisked together a mixture of brown sugar, cornstarch, and milk on the stove, bringing it to a boil and creating a lovely, glossy, thick pudding which I incorporated gently with some egg yolks and bourbon. Into the fridge it went to set. A few hours later I pulled out the bowl in high anticipation of scooping out delectable, pillowy spoonfuls of rich pudding soft enough to almost melt on the spoon but still solid enough form lazy ripples over a mound of sponge cake, bananas, and praline. If you need a moment to pause and savor that image, go ahead. I understand completely.
But instead what I found was pudding that had melted to the consistency of milk. Was this because I had used 1% instead of whole milk? What went wrong? It had looked so promising. I managed to salvage the pudding by adding some gelatin, but unfortunately by the time we were ready to eat it was still far from the pudding stage, although at least it had moved on to the creamy sauce stage, and no longer seemed like something that should be served in a glass with a straw.
As for the genoise, I read in Gourmet that it is absolutely essential that you beat your egg batter until the falling batter forms a wide ribbon that holds it's shape when you lift the beater over the bowl. After not quite ten minutes, my batter appeared to be getting close. According to the instructions, that meant to keep beating. So keep beating I did (gotta love those Kitchenaid mixers!).
And I kept beating. And beating. And - hey, if anything it looked less ribbony than 20 minutes ago! What was going on here? I gave up; I folded the egg mixture with the flour and baked my cake. It may have turned out a little flat, but it still tasted fine. But did this come about because I forgot to run the whole eggs under warm water before cracking them open, as the magazine had also suggested? Or did someone out there just not want me to make banana bourbon pudding today?
Well, regardless of the cosmic view of my pudding attempt, it turned out surprisingly well. Poured over cake, bananas, and candied pecans, the non-pudding still worked, and the genoise still soaked in the goodness of the bourbon glaze and the runny pudding sauce. And as I said before, the kids were quite taken with it (as, truth be told, was I). I guess you really can't go wrong with banana bourbon pudding with glazed pecans.
Friday, March 6, 2009
When Crabby Is A Good Thing
Lately I have been very lax about posting on this blog - my apologies! And while I rarely write about anything other than the most recent events (blogging just feels fresher when you're writing about what's currently on your mind, rather than something that happened a week ago even if that something was ostensibly more exciting), I would like to take the opportunity to share some photos from the lovely lunch I had with Leslie at Joule a couple of weeks ago. We all need a little Dungeness crab in our lives! Unless, of course, you have a shellfish allergy or, like Michael, have an inexplicable aversion to the crustacean. But the rest of us know where it's at - and Dungeness crab has got it going on!
The meal started with a refreshing mizuna and fennel salad...
And was followed by braised chard with bacon (so cute!)...
Alongside tender ravioli filled with creamed Jerusalem artichoke...
And the piece de resistance, whole fried Dungeness crab! It took Leslie two hours to eat her half of the crab, but I think she would agree that it was worth every finger-licking bite. So very, very worth it.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Showing Off Seattle
I love playing tour guide. This, I suppose, is one reason why I actually am something of a guide in Real Life - an assistant tour guide, but that's close enough, right? So when two of my cousins, Audrey and Bethany, along with their friend Becca, asked if they could stay with us for the weekend for the purpose of hearing one of Audrey's favorite singers, AA Bondy, perform at the Tractor Tavern, my first thought was "Yes! I can play tour guide for the day and show them Seattle!"
OK, not really. That was not literally my first thought. In truth, I was more excited by the fact that some of my cousins were interested in coming up to visit, even if the visiting part was not their primary motivation. While most of my cousins, all of whom are younger than I, have moved into adulthood, I've spent little time with them since my own teen years, back when I was the babysitter or just the goofy older cousin. It's an interesting experience for me to get to know my cousins now as peers rather than cute (and sometimes mischievous - although I wouldn't really put Bethany or Audrey in that category) little kids, reading Ranger Rick magazines, eating peanut butter sandwiches, and playing dress-up with grandma's inherited costume jewelry collection.
But playing tour guide was a nice little perk (Seriously - I love showing people my town - take me up on that offer if you dare!). In Wallingford we tasted wines at Bella Cosa, ice cream at Molly Moon's, cupcakes at Trophy, and Bethany even bought a bottle of one of my favorite beers to take home from Bottleworks. We hit Gasworks, the samples at Theo Chocolates, and rummaged through the crazy (crazy ugly, in many cases) fashions of the past at the Fremont Vintage Mall. I discovered, not that it was a surprise, that visiting the locks on a February evening is pretty dull - there are no boats and no fish - and still managed a brief evening trip down the beach at Golden Gardens despite the fading light. Following dinner at Root Table in Ballard we headed to the Tractor, and I have to say that Audrey has pretty good taste in music. We were treated to some great performances to cap off the evening, and Audrey seemed more than please to report that AA Bondy was, "way better in person."
They've turned out pretty well, I think. At least they put up with all my random Seattle factoids and stories pretty well, so they're nothing if not polite. I think I need to stop referring to, "If it was summer..." in my Seattle guiding. But hey, maybe it will encourage people to come back!
OK, not really. That was not literally my first thought. In truth, I was more excited by the fact that some of my cousins were interested in coming up to visit, even if the visiting part was not their primary motivation. While most of my cousins, all of whom are younger than I, have moved into adulthood, I've spent little time with them since my own teen years, back when I was the babysitter or just the goofy older cousin. It's an interesting experience for me to get to know my cousins now as peers rather than cute (and sometimes mischievous - although I wouldn't really put Bethany or Audrey in that category) little kids, reading Ranger Rick magazines, eating peanut butter sandwiches, and playing dress-up with grandma's inherited costume jewelry collection.
But playing tour guide was a nice little perk (Seriously - I love showing people my town - take me up on that offer if you dare!). In Wallingford we tasted wines at Bella Cosa, ice cream at Molly Moon's, cupcakes at Trophy, and Bethany even bought a bottle of one of my favorite beers to take home from Bottleworks. We hit Gasworks, the samples at Theo Chocolates, and rummaged through the crazy (crazy ugly, in many cases) fashions of the past at the Fremont Vintage Mall. I discovered, not that it was a surprise, that visiting the locks on a February evening is pretty dull - there are no boats and no fish - and still managed a brief evening trip down the beach at Golden Gardens despite the fading light. Following dinner at Root Table in Ballard we headed to the Tractor, and I have to say that Audrey has pretty good taste in music. We were treated to some great performances to cap off the evening, and Audrey seemed more than please to report that AA Bondy was, "way better in person."
They've turned out pretty well, I think. At least they put up with all my random Seattle factoids and stories pretty well, so they're nothing if not polite. I think I need to stop referring to, "If it was summer..." in my Seattle guiding. But hey, maybe it will encourage people to come back!
Dog Crazy
Some people are cat people. Ostensibly, one reason cats appeal to these people is their seeming aloofness and independence. Other people are dog people. Rather than an unpredictable and indifferent nature, they look for a pet that will provide them with affection and a playful attitude.Our dog, Lucy, is perhaps affectionate to the extreme. And extremely dependent upon affection.
The past week or so, the poor dog has been somewhat neglected. Most days she has only had one walk, as our evenings were generally busy with outside activities, meaning Lucy sometimes took a back seat. I think - really, I'm pretty certain - that this has proved damaging to her psyche.
Exhibit A: She has been EXCESSIVELY excited to see us when we come home. This morning, when we both walked through the door after having been gone for a couple of hours for church, the dog went berserk. Jumping on the sofa! Then off! Wriggling in and out of our grasp! Whining as she paws anxiously at the ground, her head bobbing in circles! You get the idea.
Exhibit B: Realizing that the pup needed to expend about a week's worth of pent-up energy, Amy V and I took her to the dog park this afternoon. This should wear her out, right? After an hour of playing fetch, fending off the unsolicited advances of other dogs, and swimming in the lake, Lucy was still wired. She didn't want to drop her ball, her hackles were raised repeatedly when any particularly suspicious looking dog came too near, and back at home she flailed on the sofa, trying to lick anything human in sight. Much like a toddler, this much stimulation after a week of lethargy was just too much. Sighhhhhh...
But, you know what? It may have worked better than I thought. I just peeked in the den and Lucy is lying silently on the sofa, doing a very convincing impression of a dog who is quite tired and ready for a nap. There is hope, after all, that no permanent damage has been caused and Lucy has returned to her normal state of mind - occasionally spastic, sure, but still within reason.
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