Biscuits & Brioche

French Dogs, Geoduck, & Boudin! - Oh My!

 A couple of weekends ago, I spent some time with dear friends I hadn't seen in about ten years now living in Olympia with their respective families. The last time I was in Washington's state capitol (years ago), I was protesting the mistreatment of Mexican farm workers on vineyards. This time would prove to be a bit different.

First of all, I actually got to see the town. It's absolutely adorable. Small shops. Friendly people. An excellent farmers' market that reminded me more of a smaller scale Granville Island market in Vancouver. Delicious French pastries. And boiled peanuts. The latter because my friends are fellow southerners, and Chris just happened to be boiling some up.

Kaile came to fetch me from Seattle, and on our leisurely drive south, we caught up on a lot of the happenings during the past ten years. Our first stop in her now hometown would be a Halloween children/parents party complete with boiled peanuts, pumpkin carving, and chats with fellow adults while costumed little ones ran around laughing, pretending, and getting their faces painted. I felt a bit in a fog, not only because I sensed I was coming down with something, but also because it was such a different world from the one I'm used to. I started to wonder why adults don't get flowers painted on their faces more often and run around yards jumping in mud puddles. Maybe because we're the ones to have to clean it up? Still, could be fun.

Back to Kaile & Frank's house, they put their little ones to bed, I watched Ramen Girl, and then nestled myself under the cozy covers to get rested for the next day. Sunday morning, we woke up, got showered, and drove to a bright, open artisanal bakery with the most delightful French pastries, The Bread Peddler. Then it was on to the farmers' market for a coffee fix and bacon shopping. Cool air, a bluegrass band, yet more kids running around, and stalls with pumpkins, apples and oysters beckoning to be purchased. Unfortunately, I was caught up in the wonder of small town deliciousness and left my bag of French pastries in the car with the dog. When we returned, I could have sworn he was wearing a beret and smoking a cigarette. I felt like a ditz, but Kaile and Frank turned the car around and headed back to replace my pastries. And when I got back to Seattle, instead of les délices transporting me to Olympia with each bite, I flew right back to days spent with beautiful friends in France wondering how in the world they get food to taste so good without gaining an ounce. I took another bite. And then another. Croissant. Pain au Chocolat. Gateau Basque. Pumpkin Pie. Apple Tarte. Apple Fritter. Butter, butter and more butter. Happiness. Even if the top button on my jeans seems a little nervous just writing it down.

The morning ended with taking our pastries over to Chris and Amanda's for breakfast, then it was back to the metropolis of Seattle. Thanks, Kaile, Frank, Chris, Amanda, and kidlets for a delicious jaunt back in time.

   

The following Monday, Aimee, Ashlyn and I joined Sanaa at her place for a Mediterranean feast: Mussels Bienville, raw Geoduck with ginger and wasabi soy sauce, and seafood bisteeya (squid, shrimp, fish, and geoduck). Hanging with the ladies is always delicious because it's inevitable that there will be cocktails, wine, good food, loud danceable/sing-alongable music (usually from the 80s), and soulful conversations. That's just how it works. Not only was all of this present, but I also got to break down my first geoduck and squid. Cooooool.

 

 

According to Wikipedia, the ultra-phallic geoduck is the largest burrowing clam in the world as well as one of the longest-living organisms in the Animal Kingdom, and hails from Washington and British Columbia. Yay for us 'cause it's pretty tasty too. 

I love hangin' with the ladies whether in Seattle, Lafayette, LA, NYC or Paris. I have to say that I know some pretty amazing women, and am truly blessed. Thanks, gals, for being so beautiful.

Almost two weeks ago, I hopped on a plane and headed south to Lafayette, Louisiana. Incredible food, one of the coolest music festivals EVER, Blackpot Festival, beautiful, loving friends, and my sweetheart of a grandmother were in dire need of some vis'tin. After unloading and changing at Kristi & Mike's house, the first stop was Pamplona Tapas Bar & Restaurant. Some changes have been made, but it was super grand to dig into some chargrilled oysters, duck fat fries, bacon-wrapped dates with valdeon bleu cheese, duck confit flatbread, and other fine dishes. And, yes, I did have a little help from my friends. Unfortunately, Orlando, Brendan, and Luke were out that evening. :-( But Lafayette is never short of surprises. Nearing the end of our meal, Portland's MarchFourth Marching Band came parading down the street just in front on their way to play at the Blue Moon. We couldn't pass that up, thus we finished up at Pamplona and headed off to the Blue Moon Saloon, a hostel and one of the coolest venues you'll ever see. The bands play outside on the back porch, the crowd dances up a storm right in front, and for cooling off, everyone grabs an exceptionally potent drink or 20 at the bar downstairs in the backyard.

      

 

 

Taco Sisters was also on my list of places to go as I've been hearing about it ever since I left Lafayette back in February. While it doesn't exactly measure up to say Agua Verde in Seattle, they are pretty darn tasty. And I like how they combine flavors like their own smoked yellowfin tuna with 'normal' ingredients you might find in a tuna sandwich like iceberg lettuce and diced apples. And the sisters, Molly and Katy Richard, will welcome you with open arms, not because they only want your business (lines are down the block), but because they are just super duper nice ladies.

Thursday night, Kristi had a show at Café des Amis for the Bayou Teche clean-up benefit. Was able to see a few great people, and enjoy some turtle soup with sherry and crawfish cornbread topped with crawfish étouffée. YUM! The show was great, the food was incredible, and it was nice to visit with more good friends. And, Matt, you need to find me on Facebook since apparently you're incognito. ooooooh.

Friday marked the beginning of Blackpot, but not before grabbing some boudin and cracklins at Early's in Scott, LA. Sooooo good, and definitely missed. Robert who came down from Seattle to check out the festival was also impressed. I must learn to make it at home. I could live anywhere in world, but I gotsta have me some boudin every once in a while. What is it? A mix of rice, meat parts, and spices in a casing. Like the best sausage you'll EVER eat. Don't take my word for it though. Jump on dat plane & getchoo sum!

Blackpot was sensational. SO MANY incredibly beautiful friends, TONS of dancing, a winning cast iron cook-off, and talented kick-ass musicians. Plus, this year it was held on Halloween, which brought out some pretty incredible costumes. It ended on Sunday with a trip out to the Whirlybird with more good peeps, dancing and a swig of whiskey or two for good measure. Gooooood times.

The rest of my stay was spent with Nana, my grandmother. I just can't figure out how she makes those biscuits so darn delicious. And her fig preserves??? Oh my goodness. Not to mention the stuffed bell peppers and shrimp & okra gumbo. Man oh man. Grandmothers sure are swell!

Guess it was time for me to leave the 78-degree sunny days of Louisiana and head back up to the grey, rainy PacNW days where due to the time change, it apparently gets dark at 5pm. Kinda gross. But we will make it through the year to know the best days that summer has to offer. At least it's a good excuse to stay indoors, make big pots of gumbo, invite friends over, and pass a good time! Bon appétit!

Tavern Law - Capitol Hill

This past Saturday, after Stumptown's informative Producers Panel,  thanks to the awesome Seattle uber-foodie networker Traca Savadogo's recommendation, I headed over to Tavern Law where I met up with my friend Angel. Before he arrived, I had a grand talk with Miles the bartender. I must have still been on my questions kick after the panel, as I drilled him quite a bit – what was the story behind Tavern Law, what was Rye, what was Amaro, why they served neither Tito's Vodka nor Hudson Baby Bourbon – and then preceded to move on to one of the servers about the personality of Seattle folks. I was on a roll.

First of all, the answers:

Tavern Law is the second restaurant/bar of Belltown's Spur Gastropub's creators Brian McCracken and Dana Tough. Delicately hidden on Capitol Hill's 12th Street, it hints at speakeasy style offering nicely designed, and yummy, bites alongside classic cocktails (with a menu also listing the dates when they were created) and entertaining mixes. With an intimate downstairs dining area, it hosts an even cozier 'secret' upstairs where the guest tells the bartender what they like, and the latter then comes up with a drink hoping to delight the guest's palate. Cool. Check out Gourmet's write-up.

Rye = Ok, this was a hard one as I was a bit iffy on the whole rye, whiskey, bourbon thing. So, rye whiskey is a type of whiskey, just as other whiskeys may be made from wheat, corn, or other grains. According to Wkipedia, American rye whiskey must be distilled from at least 51% rye, while a Canadian rye whiskey may or may not include rye at all. Odd. Rye whiskey also tends to be a bit peppery. Good to know.

Amaro = An Italian herbal liqueur. Sweet, herby and yummy enough to give you a nasty headache the next day. Will have to ask my naturopath about this one. Hmmm...

Why don't they serve Tito's Vodka or Baby Bourbon? Call in and ask Bar Manager David Nelson. He's in charge. And apparently Washington State has weird liquor laws. Go figure.

Seattle personalities... still conducting research.

After my incessant questioning, Angel arrived and we decided on some nibblies to go with our pricey, but delicious, libations

Foie Gras Terrine - A super creamy terrine of foie gras purée with angostura bitters gêlée, served with warm toast ($15 - Tastes like buttah.)

Pork Belly - Stacked pork belly atop cranberry beans, autumn plums and mustard ($14 - Who started the pork belly trend? Bless them.)

Truffle Risotto - Risotto mixed with celery, shaved Parmesan, olive oil, and approximately one entire bottle of earthy and exquisite truffle oil ($14 - Did I mention this was earthy and exquisite?)

Cod Fritters - Crispy fried boules of cod in a remoulade sauce with lemon and chervil ($9 - Decent, but a bit tangy. I believe Angel compared them to something he ate in a mediocre tapas bar in Spain. Still sounds kinda good though. I like Spain.)

I must say that I'm enjoying this "Speakeasy" craze. Yes, it's a trend. Yes, they're often overpriced. No, they aren't really speakeasies. But I'm quite fond of the cocktails, the attire, and the dark & swanky mood lighting. Angel and I went to Knee High Stocking Co. a few weeks ago, and while I was impressed with the fun factor of ringing a doorbell to be allowed in, I was disappointed by the less-than-VIP crowd and the décor. Sipping my cocktail, I found do-over ways to offer Knee High the most efficient marketing punch. I am so not a fan of their wall color choice. (Maggie Savarino of Seattle Weekly agrees). The place smelled kinda funny too. I might also clean up their 'eclectic' menu. Though I'm not saying I wouldn't go back. Everything deserves a second taste. And I may just be acting a bit snooty about it. But, really?

I look forward to checking out more Seattle eatery-drinkeries. Until then, bon appétit!

Stumptown Coffee Roasters Producers Panel

   

You stumble out of bed. Stumble into the shower. Pull on you're clothes already set out the night before. Grab your keys, check your hair one last time before heading out the door, and slip into your Honda Accord. First stop before work? The neighborhood coffee shop. What was once believed a treat, has advanced as a necessity. You can not function without your morning cup of coffee, and anyone who gets in your way before then will pay dearly. Have you ever stopped to think what's in that coffee you're drinking? I know you've hoped what's NOT in there. Think back, were you rude to the barista? But what steps do go into that $3.50 exchange?

I don't have a car, and I currently don't have a full-time job. But I do double-check my hair before I leave the apt., and I do need my morning cup of coffee. This weekend, I found out a few things that go into the $3.50, thanks to the Stumptown Coffee Roasters Producers Panel.

Joined by others in the audience including writers, café owners, random curious coffee drinkers, and farmers, I was excited to listen to what producers and exporters from three different coffee areas had to say. From Columbia came Giovany Liscano, Walter Penna and Alejandro Cadena; from Costa Rica came Juan Ramon Alvarado and Francisco Mena; and from Kenya came Ngatia Kanyoge and Kamau Kuria. Aida Batlle from El Salvador fell ill and could not make it. The panel was moderated by Aleco Chigounis, Stumptown Coffee Roasters green coffee buyer.

Stumptown doesn't claim to speak for any other roaster, but what I've read, seen and heard, they FULLY believe in Direct Trade. "Stumptown guarantees premiums paid out at the farm level for coffees with the Direct Trade logo on the bag... It's about great coffee here at Stumptown, but it's also about forming and nurturing relationships with coffee farmers in the producing world that have become our friends... It's about a transparent, sustainable supply chain backed by the smiling producers to prove it." I feel lucky to live in a city where I can meet these guys and learn more about just what they do.

At 3:30pm, I sat down in Wyckoff Auditorium of Seattle University's Bannan Center for Science & Engineering to learn firsthand from the farmers/producers their side of the story. Each with their own viewpoint, personality, and process, they all shared a passion and a hunger for coffee beans and their business.

As they shared with us their craft and wisdom, the talk focused on several main points: sustainability, cost of production, weather patterns, and processing. Seeds are selected to plant, 2 to 2.5 years after planting, the trees are harvested. The berries are de-pulped. After 14-16 hours, they sit in tanks to remove mucilage. When ready they are completely washed, then placed in drying beds. For the pre-dry, the excess water is released for 24 hours, then they are again slow-dried to retain quality for no longer than 20 days. Once dried, the coffee is stored for one or two weeks so as not to be contaminated by other agents. It is then taken to the analyzation process. Once chosen, it is shipped to store in warehouses to let settle. The process varies by country depending on climate, and what each farmer/producer deems necessary to retain the best possible coffee.

What's changed since the coffee industry's price fall of 2000, is the upswing of micro mills or lots. Welcome to the microroaster revolution! Whereas Fair Trade "only guarantees a price to a cooperative board," Stumptown guarantees that their Direct Trade price offering (2X today's New York coffee market price level), well above the Fair Trade minimum, goes directly to the farmer. Stumptown bases its coffee choices on a scale of 100, only accepting those with a minimum score of 86. (olfactory, sweetness, cleanliness, flavor, acidity, body, balance, and aftertaste) Premium incentives are achieved as the score goes up.

While I won't delve precisely into what each producer had to say, I will say that they were each beautifully informative. With Costa Rica praising the community and process of all farmers and producers working together to achieve the best and most cohesive result, to the entertaining enthusiasm for farming apparent through Kenya's Ngatia Kanyoge, to Columbia's Walter Penna's poetic ascent of where he is today, learning to appreciate trees, communicating with them as they greet each other, exchanging love and in turn receiving great cherries.  FYI,it was his and Giovany Liscano's first trip on a plane.

Not only is your daily buzz achieved with each morning sip, but families are taken care of, lives are changed and improved, and the economy is allowed to flourish even during these difficult times. One question that wasn't asked directly, but may have pretty much been answered is "How dependent are they on their morning cup of coffee?" Bon appétit!

To order your own beans and try home roasting, check out Sweet Maria's. And to learn more about Stumptown's practices and farmers, check out their site as well as some of their videos.

Wine-Making & Past Events

Chillier weather means cozy evenings at home with a nice meal and a full-bodied glass of red. Or if I do venture outside, I prefer sharing small plates with friends as well as a bottle or two of a soul-embracing Cab. If it isn't tea, coffee, or a hot toddy, then it's a nice red. There's just something about sipping it slowly and letting it gently hug you until you feel all snuggled in.

This weekend, my friend Kirsten invited me to tag along to her friend Bill's house to partake in the wine-producing process. Just the night before I was begging another friend to let me come along for their next bottling stage. I've always been fascinated by the process, but have never made the move to get my hands dirty. This would be my first.

When we arrived, Bill had a basket (aka baby tub) of grapes set on the table in the living room ready for us to de-stem. After taking a gander at his crushing/cellar and fermenting rooms, we sat down in front of the TV with cheese, crackers and a glass each of his 2006 homemade vino ready to begin. Careful not to allow any leaves or stems in the grape bucket, we pulled the grapes off each bunch. When those were done, Bill brought them down to the crushing room where he poured them into a manual machine. After the juice is allowed to sit for a few days, he then adds yeast to the container and allows it to ferment for several days (initiating a fruit fly fiesta), making sure to mash and turn the grapes for balanced fermentation two or three times a day. Once the juice is ready, he strains it, barrels it, and waits for about a year & a half to bottle it. I'm not sure how our wine will come out, but the 2006 & 2007 we tasted were already quite delicious and could still have been saved for another 4 or so years.

   

I didn't write about it before since friends were visiting, other work projects took priority, and because time always seems to pass by so quickly. But here are a few pics from the St. Demetrios Greek Festival, the Sustainable Ballard Festival, and Coffee Fest during the past few weeks. Oh, and one super cute photo from the Ballard Market. Bon appétit!

 

   

 

 

Gumbo, Coffee, Julia, Chi-Town, and Barcelona: 5 Books to Ponder

I grew up in "the heart of Louisiana", not New Orleans, and Mom and I moved around a lot (New York, Florida, Washington State, etc.). But my family lived in Lafourche Parish for several years and thus instilled in me ties to that cultural essence of Louisiana (eating fish on Fridays; French expressions; good music; just to name a few). Mom also recited accounts of her interesting experiences in New Orleans "growing up" there as a young hippie/flower child in the "Quarter" (pronounced like 'qwoatah'). Hence, I grew up with a strong background in South Louisiana flavors. Whenever, I say I'm going to Louisiana, friends outside always assume it's to New Orleans. Where else would I go? And they ask, "Are you back yet from New Orleans?" "Do you still have a lot of friends in New Orleans?" Well, I do have a few friends in that amazing city, but I may or may not visit it each time I return to "Louisiana". I only spent a few years in Lafayette, but that's the home I claim, where I feel most like myself. I'm assuming that is not only due to the incredibly beautiful and talented group of people I know down there, but also due to that certain connection my family surrounded me with from a young age. Although I do wish I would have had more time to explore the city with Mom, to go with her to all of her favorite old haunts, to hear more stories, to eat more good, traditional food, I am reminded of some of the flavors we were able to experience through Sara Roahen's book Gumbo Tales: Finding My Place at the New Orleans Table. Released in 2008, going through each delicious chapter brings tears to my eyes and makes my mouth water. I know that each state, city, and region has its specialties, but there is just something magical about New Orleans. That energy, those aromas, that not even Katrina could wipe out. It is there when you walk down the street, it is there when you look back at old photos, and it is there as you read each line of Sara's book. Through each and every chapter, I could smell the aroma of Nana's turkey bones overtaking the entire house while simmering in a gumbo after Thanksgiving, the mayonnaise dripping down my chin from a shrimp/oyster po-boy, that exquisite tart, vinegary aroma when walking into Central Grocery for a muffaletta (or at least a quarter slice), and that sticky, dry bite of King Cake that is a welcome and always mandatory slice of Mardi Gras culture. Besides, with the latter, you just might get that little plastic baby. And the crown. So if you need to be reminded, or if you've never been there and want to discover, check out Sara's book. Thank you, Sara, for reminding me.

As a child I remember being the one to make the coffee at my great-grandparent's house. It was poured in small flowered coffee cups with saucers, and I was to bring it out on a tray, complete with sugar bowl and creamer, to the adults. I would, in turn, receive my own cup usually brimming with more sugar and cream than coffee, and might just get a dime out of it when I returned to collect the cups. As an adult, spending so much time in Seattle means I also have coffee culture running through my veins. And I find myself consistently checking out which coffee each café that I walk into uses. Lighthouse? Stumptown? Zeitgeist? I even did a double take the other day as I passed by a window downtown and was blinded by a giant red bag in the window. I walked in, and "yup, Intelligentsia." But with the huge coffee craze that is sweeping the nation, it's curious to know the process that these hardcore coffee gurus go through to nab the biggest, baddest & best coffee beans in the world. Michaele Weissman's book God in a Cup: The Obsessive Quest for the Perfect Coffee offers its readers a riveting and informative journey through this intensely beautiful and dangerous mission. Following three of the hottest coffee dudes in the business  – Counter Culture's Peter Giuliano, Intelligentsia's Geoff Watts, and Stumptown's Duane Sorenson – Michaele exposes the ins and outs of a business no 80s Wall Street hotshot could master. If you want to know a little more about why you're so excited to have that hip, hot coffee in the morning, afternoon, and sometimes evening, check out "God in a Cup." Thank you, Michaele. I will never taste coffee the same way again. A blessing, indeed.

Surrounding the recent film Julie and Julia, books on Julia Child are EVERYWHERE. Walking into a bookstore last Saturday, I was disappointed that I didn't already own a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking before the marketing team had stamped their movie promo on all of them. I just might have to peruse some second- (or even third or fourth) hand bookstores to find a nice stained and underlined copy, if I so feel the need to follow along that is. Growing up with episodes of Julia Child on TV quickly turned into my imitations of Julia at home pretending to cook up a chicken or an egg, and then flowed on to memories of Dan Aykroyd playing Julia bleeding profusely as The French Chef on Saturday Night Live. I loved the movie "Julie and Julia". It was funny. Fun-loving. Simple. Brought me back to Paris. Made me want to cook. And it combined the life of a real woman who mastered the art of a "man's" domain, and did so with a laugh and a chuckle, with the life of a real woman today who lacks confidence and is in search of something to believe in, fight for, and feel good about herself in the end. Maybe she isn't saving the world by going through each recipe, but she is keeping herself afloat. We all need a challenge, and a reminder, sometimes, no matter the girth. And while it's obvious by her Gourmet article in July that she is not a fan of the film, added to all of the Julia Child information out there, Laura Shapiro has written the book Julia Child: a Life. It's to the point and offers its readers a solid account of Julia's life... as far as I know, anyhoo. It is entertaining, fun to follow, and a good, lightweight read while taking public transportation.

I have only been to Chicago once. And while there, I did not have the pleasure of eating at the landmark Berghoff Café, opened in 1898 by Herman Joseph Berghoff. I did, however, just recently acquire the café's recently released cookbook, The Berghoff Café Cookbook: Berghoff Family Recipes for Simple Satisfying Food, and can now try out some of the recipes at home before I head back to Chi-Town to experience the way it's supposed to taste. Classic flavors are seared & simmered highlighting traditional American comfort-food fare with a dash of German seasoning. Classic Salisbury Steak with Mushroom Jus Lié and Spaetzle; Turkey Meatloaf; and Iceberg Wedge with Roquefort Dressing and Bacon. Simple and satisfying family recipes to remind us of home as well as how to make a fine meal.

If German ain't your bag, check out The Barcelona Cookbook: A Celebration of Food, Wine and Life by Sasa Mahr-Batuz and Andy Pforzheimer with Mary Goodbody. Immediately, I am whisked away to time spent with my best friend at his home just north of Barcelona. The seafood, oh my goodness, the seafood. The tapas. The wine. The ham. The cheese. Ok, let me just say that Spain is a very delicious country. And this cookbook makes me very hungry. Chicken Liver Pâté; Albondigas; Calamari Stuffed with Saffron Rice, Chorizo, and Shrimp; and Pan-Roasted Ostrich Fillet with Brandy Reduction and Garlic Confit are just a few of the delectable recipes in "The Barcelona Cookbook". And I haven't even mentioned the desserts, metric conversions table, and Spanish ingredient sources listed. Well, there, I just did. So if you can't make it back to Barcelona right away, at least you can attempt some recipes, get a few bottles of wine, and invite some friends over to practice your Català. Bon appétit!