Restaurant Week and Cacio e Pepe

Seattle just wrapped up another successful (for me, at least) restaurant week. Restaurant week—actually spanning 2 weeks—is when tons of local restaurants offer 3 course menus for $30. I happen to love restaurant week, although, I read in Seattle Met that a lot of local chefs don't feel so hot about it, and basically think they have to dumb down their food for cheapskates. It's really too bad they feel that way, because a bad restaurant week experience can tarnish my opinion of a restaurant from that point forward. And I throw down on good food… I just don't usually do it 3 times in two weeks. With restaurant week, I can try out a lot of spendier joints, so that I know where I want to go back to for nice dinners, and what places I want to recommend to friends.  If I get a dumbed down, half-assed meal during restaurant week… well, sorry, you may have lost one future diner. And a lot of her friends…who also like to throw down on good food. 

After last week's "try-outs," I'll definitely be going back to Andaluca and How to Cook a Wolf—two restaurants owned by Seattle 'celeb chefs.' The kitchen of one local celeb chef, however, delivered a pretty…underwhelming experience. I hate to say it, because the guy is pretty much a god among men in these parts, but sorry Tom Douglas, my meal at Dahlia wasn't too impressive. I loved my cocktail, a rosemary/blueberry shrub, and of course TD's famous coconut cream pie was amazing, but the entrees were bland, and came out so fast that it was almost like they had a line of restaurant week plates stacked up and ready to go, a la Micky D's. The whole thing felt rushed, something I don't want to feel at a nice restaurant, no matter how much I'm paying. I'm not giving up on Tom just yet (he has about 6 restaurants in Seattle), but I doubt I'll be doing dinner at Dahlia again. Andaluca and How to Cook a Wolf made up for it though. 

Andaluca's executive chef, Wayne Johnson, competed on Iron Chef…and makes a mean bowl of clams. The restaurant is a mediterranean-spanish-northwest-tapas type place, and seriously had the best clams I've maybe ever had. And I've had a lot of clams. Clams are one of my go-to dishes. Andaluca's were swimming in a bright orange, slightly creamy, garlicky bath of white wine and harissa butter, and were surrounded by big, salty, spicy chunks of chorizo, and topped with cilantro. They were salty and spicy, and seriously amazing. The sherry-almond scallops were also incredible, and weren't dry or overcooked, like a lot of restaurant scallops I've had. Aside from how delicious everything was, it was just a great experience. We were served a ton of food (which isn't typical with restaurant week), and the waiter was super nice, even though we did have a loud party of 10 that shut the place down. 

How to Cook a Wolf is one of Ethan Stowell's restaurants. Ethan is another big-deal chef around here, with a lot of big-time restaurants under his belt (don't tell him, but I may have stalked him at Burning Beast, just a little bit). How to Cook a Wold (named after MFK Fisher's book) is a fun, small space in Queen Anne, with simple, rustic Italian-style food, meant to be shared. Everything was delicious, from the burrata with grape mostarda, to the beef carpaccio, to the simple but fabulous pasta dishes. My favorite dish was the semolina gnocchi with pork sugo. The gnocchi were almost like big, fluffy polenta cakes, but made with semolina, and were covered in cheese, and sitting atop a salty, savory tomato sauce with shredded pork. To. Die. For. And, if the amazing meal wasn't enough, they sent us home with little bags of fresh-raw pasta. 

I wanted to do something simple with the pasta, so I played homage to another local celeb chef of sorts, and made Mario Batali's pasta with cacio e pepe (Batali is from Washington, and his family owns Salumi, the unbelievable salumeria in Pioneer Square (right below my office)! Cacio e Pepe (cheese and pepper) is just that—pasta tossed with cracked pepper, butter and oil, and nutty parmesan cheese. That's it! And it's so good! You don't really need to follow a recipe—boil pasta in salty water, and in a separate pot, toast cracked black pepper, and melt in equal parts butter and olive oil, then mix that with pasta water, the pasta, and a hearty amount of grated cheese. There you have it. A dinner for far less than $30, that's sure to impress. 

PS. I'm not a restaurant critic or even a "restaurant blogger," and the reviews above are strictly my opinion... though you should really get the clams at Andaluca, just sayin'. 

Wordless Wednesday: Apples!

I spent last weekend at my parent's house, to celebrate Mel's big 5-0. She wasn't the only one who got presents... I came home with a giant box of apples, fresh picked from her friend Elaine's orchard! 

Sausage, Kale, and Sweet Potato Soup

It’s been rainy, windy, stormy, and cold in Seattle! It’s most definitely fall, and I couldn’t be happier about it. While I am sad to see the sun go away (not that it really ever showed up this year), I’m stoked out of my mind for stews, baked goods, soups, pumpkins, apple cider, apple cider cake (I made it, yum!), soups, Halloween, boots and scarves, soups, Thanksgiving, mulled wine, and lots and lots of soup. Oh, did I mention soup?!

Guess what?!?! I love soup! I think it’s souper. Get it, soup…er? Ok, so maybe that was overkill, but I really do love soup of all kinds. Brothy soup, veggie soup, hot soup, cold soup, meaty soup, chunky soup, noodle soup, and extra hearty soup, like this one, with sausage, potatoes, and kale.

I wanted to add something leafy to my typical potato soup, but I knew Evan wouldn’t go for the green unless I countered it with something spicy and made of animal. So, in addition to russet potatoes, onions, and carrots, this soup is chock full of kale, spicy-smokey Andouille sausage, garlic, and sweet, buttery chunks of sweet potato (I just couldn’t pass it up at the grocery store!). It ended up being nothing like my normal potato soup (I also didn't add milk or cream), but it’s so good and hearty that it will definitely be on the soup rotation from here on out.

PS. Evan claims to hate kale, but ate every last leafy green bit in his bowl.

Sausage, Kale, and Potato Soup

Olive oil

1 T butter

1 large yellow onion, diced

2 large garlic cloves, minced

2 carrots, chopped

4 fully cooked smoked sausage links (like spicy Andouille), sliced

2 large russet potatoes, peeled and cubed

1 large sweet potato, peeled and cubed (I used the orange variety, sometimes referred to as a yam)

Salt, pepper

Pinch of rosemary (fresh or dried)

Red pepper flakes (to taste, a used a hearty pinch)

1 bunch/head of kale, washed, ribs/stems removed, and chopped

8 cups of chicken broth

Add a few pours of olive oil and the butter to a stock pot or Dutch oven, heat on medium. Add onion, and cook until translucent. Add garlic and carrots, and cook until fragrant, but don’t let garlic burn or brown too much. Add salt, pepper, rosemary, and red pepper flakes to taste. Add sausage, and cook until slightly crisp on the edges—we want it to really meld with the flavor of the onions and garlic, and to release some of it’s fat into the pot. Next, add russet potatoes and cook for a minute or two, just long enough for the potatoes to start sticking to the bottom of the pot, but not enough to burn. Add broth, and bring to a boil, scraping cooked bits off the bottom of the pot. Boil for a few minutes, then add the sweet potatoes. Taste, and add more salt/pepper/flakes, if needed. Turn heat to medium/low, cover, and simmer. When potatoes are soft and starting to break apart (you’ll have to start checking after about 10 minutes), add kale. Cook for a few more minutes, until kale has reduced, and serve (with crusty French bread on a blustery fall night).

Wordless Wednesday: Plum Torte

Late summer/early fall plum tart! Thanks to Barbara for the giant box of amazing Italian prune plums, to Amanda for the use of her sunny, light-filled kitchen, and to the New York Times for the classic recipe. PS. I swapped a tad of the flour with almond meal, and added a splash of almond extract.

School Lunch: Chicken Pita Sandwiches

It's that time of year again: fall is here. It blew (and poured) in with conviction, unlike summer, that so-called season that never really showed up to the party. You know, like that friend, the one who RSVP'd and said she would be there, then texted and said she was on her way, but then didn't actually show up until the party was nearly over..that was summer. Fall, on the other hand, showed up in a big way. The party pretty much started when she walked in the door, and there was never a  moment of doubt that she had arrived. 

I like fall. I like pumpkins, and soup, and pumpkin soup, and pumpkin beer. I like apple cider and pear crisps. I like the red and orange leaves on the sidewalk, and the feeling of new beginnings. For some of you, fall is back-to-school time—time to dust off the ol' red Garfield the Cat lunch box, and fill it with sandwiches and snack packs (but not gogurt...that stuff weirds me out). I haven't had a first day of school since my senior year of college—5 years ago! I guess some of you might not think that's so long ago, but going back now seems nearly impossible. Homework? Tests? Studying?! I can't even imagine giving up paychecks for tuition, and Friday Night Lights on Netflix for term papers. And while it seems crazy to me after only 5 years, Amanda is about to have her first first day of school in 7 years. 

My big sister, the girl I've been following my whole life, is about to start grad school. When Amanda started playing softball in elementary school, I did too…even though I was afraid of the ball. When she campaigned for student government and tried out for cheerleading, so did I. Her first car became my first car, and, like all the hand-me-downs I took from her over the years, I was stoked about the level of coolness her things would bring me. Amanda graduated from high school and moved to Seattle for college, and two years later, I followed her up here. And now, here she is, headed back to school. While I'm not in a hurry to follow her there, I'm once again in complete admiration of how cool she is. And how brave. And how crazy, definitely a little bit crazy. 

So, for the first day of school, while Amanda's sharpening pencils and buying text books, I'm coming up with back-to-school lunches to fill up her Garfield lunch box. The one she left on the bus and cried hysterically over. Boy was I jealous of that lunch box and school bus. 

While this portable lunch might not be quite right for the elementary school cafeteria, it packs up awesomely for work or big-kid school lunches. Super thin, flavorful chicken stuffed in a pita with fresh veggies and hummus. People will be jealous. And it's super easy to pack the components separately and combine at lunch. And, when you grill the chicken for dinner the night before, you get two meals in one. Just the kind of efficiency working moms or working grad students need. 

Grilled Chicken Pita Sandwiches

For chicken:

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

Juice from 1 large lemon

olive oil

oregano

salt

pepper

Paillard your bird. Ok, that sounds complicated and fancy, but it really just means to make your chicken super thin (which means it cooks quicker but stays tender, has more of the seasoning rub in each bite, and goes further). Here's a good guide to paillarding. 

Rub your chicken paillards with olive oil, douse in lemon juice, and heavily coat in oregano, salt, and pepper. 

Grill indoors or out until cooked through, only a couple minutes on each side. Oh the joys of the paillard!

For dinner, slice one breast and add to salad or pasta. Slice the 2nd paillard, and refrigerate. 

For sandwiches:

Pack chicken and a pita. Pack fresh spinach leaves, diced red onion, red pepper, tomato, and cucumber in a to-go container or baggie. 

Add a spoonful of hummus to a baggie.

To serve, cut the corner off the hummus baggie and squeeze hummus into pita (way less creepy than gogurt), then fill with veggies and chicken. 

Done…(school) lunch is served. 

Ak in AK (and Pancakes)

I just got back from a week of adventure in the last frontier––Alaska. 

Well, sort of. I mean, it was a week of adventure, but not the kind you might associate with Alaska. It was less "Into the Wild," and more "Titanic"… minus the sinking part. We spent half of our time on the high seas, aboard the Golden Princess cruise ship, and the other half in adorable little touristy port-towns on the inside passage of southeast Alaska. We did see plenty of bald eagles and seals, and even kayaked up a stream of spawning salmon, but the most rugged parts of the trip were the mornings after drinking too many martinis and glasses of champagne at cruise formal nights. If you haven't  noticed, I'm quite outdoorsy. 

A huge group of us went on the cruise for my parents' 30th anniversary. Our group had 12 people––me, Evan, Amanda, Amanda's bff Becky, Becky's husband Deric and her mom Sue, my parents, my dad's cousin Kathy, my mom's friend Tina, and the parents of my mom's friend Shelly. We had the time of our lives. A cruise ship is pretty much a floating version of Kellerman's, the resort camp from Dirty Dancing. It has all the same activities…and people. There were the dance people, who taught lessons, then made appearances at the dance club at night, and there was even a woman that we could have sworn was old Mrs. Schumacher. When we weren't singing the Dirty Dancing soundtrack or running around like maniacs looking for clues to our Golden Princess scavenger hunt (which we won), Amanda, Becky and I were playing bingo and trivia, and learning to waltz, salsa, and line dance. We were also becoming best friends with all of the ship's bartenders and activities staff. We were quite popular by the end of the trip. We were also the youngest people on the ship, which may have had something to do with it. 

In Alaska, we cruised through breathtaking Glacier Bay National Park, and made stops in Juneau, Skagway, and Ketchikan, and we stopped at Victoria, BC on the way home. In Juneau, we kayaked and ate amazing smoked salmon clam chowder. In Skagway, we rode a train up the White Pass & Yukon Route railroad, build in 1898 during the Klondike gold rush. 

In Ketchikan––by far my favorite town we visited––we watched a lumberjack show and fantasized about spending a week roaming the town's charming streets. We also went in a lot of tourist shops at each stop. I did love seeing so many things that said "I love AK" (my initials), but after that trip, I never want to see a jewelry store again. Why do cruise ship passengers love buying diamonds in Alaska so much? The majority of the tchotchkes we came across weren't even made in Alaska. We were, however, able to get off the beaten path here and there, and find a few special treats. I came home with smoked salmon, an ulu, and a bottle of birch tree syrup. 

Birch syrup is thin and smooth like real maple syrup, but tastes kind of like molasses, with that slightly bittersweet flavor, almost like burnt caramel. If burley lumberjacks or gold miners ate pancakes, they'd use birch syrup. They'd also be eating hearty pancakes that could hold up to a syrup like that. None of those fluffy, light as air, perfectly white cakes for this syrup. 

So, upon returning home, I whipped up a batch of rugged, burley pancakes––full of blueberries and oats. The kind you'd expect to find in the last frontier. 

Whole Wheat Sour Cream Pancakes with Blueberries and Oats

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen, who adapted from The Pioneer Woman Cooks

Makes 6-8 medium sized pancakes

7 tablespoons whole wheat flour

1/4 cup quick cooking rolled oats

1 tablespoon sugar 

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/ 2 teaspoon salt

1 cup sour cream 

2 large eggs

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

fresh or frozen blueberries (if frozen, don't thaw first)

Butter

Birch syrup (or, if you can't make it up to Alaska, try whisking together molasses and pure maple syrup)

Heat a cast iron skillet or griddle over medium-low heat.

Stir together flour, oats, sugar, baking soda, and salt. Add the sour cream and gently mix until incorporated, don't over mix. Whisk eggs and vanilla in a separate bowl and combine with the sour cream mixture, until a smooth batter forms (again, don't over mix). 

Coat skillet with butter. For each pancake, scoop a 1/4 cup of batter into skillet at a time and plop in 5-6 blueberries. Cook for about 2 minutes on the first side, or until bubbles appear. Flip and cook for another minute, or until done. Repeat with remaining batter.

Make Time for Dessert: Blueberry Dumplings

Can I just say how much I miss you? This has been one crazy summer. Crazy in a good way, but super busy. I've had very little time for blogging, or even cooking for that matter. Last night Amanda and I made a panzanella salad, and that was the most involved dinner I've made in two months. Toasted bread and tomatoes, people. That's how insane my summer has been…that toasted bread and tomatoes equals serious cooking. 

Evan and I recently went to Cancun for his best friend's wedding, which involved lots of sun, lots of swimming, and even more drinking. Then we returned just in time to see one of my best friends get married to a charming and dashing Englishman, which involved about 30 absolutely crazy lads from the UK dancing shirtless with ties on their heads. I've been on the go so much I don't even know what I've been eating, and that tells me that I need to slow down and get back in the kitchen.  But alas, I have one more big trip before I can get back to normal. This weekend Evan and I are leaving on an Alaskan cruise, along with Amanda and a couple of her friends, my parents, and a few family friends. After that, I can't wait to start cooking and blogging on a regular schedule again. 

Amidst all the hullabaloo, I found one afternoon to enjoy the sun, pick blueberries, and make blueberry dumplings. Thank goodness days like that still find their way into my schedule, to keep me sane. Amanda, our friend Cindy, and I hit up a you-pick berry farm, and filled our buckets with ripe, sweet blueberries, and even a few blackberries. And it was even sunny… I mean, real summer weather. I couldn't have asked for a better day to unwind. 

Afterward, we made blueberry dumplings–based on the gooey, fruity dumplings my Grandma Carol always made when we stayed with her for two weeks every summer. The dumplings are similar to a cobbler, but super quick, and fun to eat. Instead plopping biscuity dough on top of berries and baking, you drop spoonfuls of dumpling dough into simmering berries on the stovetop. Once they've cooked through, you spoon the whole mess into a bowl, and top it with vanilla ice cream, and maybe even a few fresh berries. Then the ice cream starts to melt, and you have a bowl of sweet, creamy, gooey, chewy deliciousness that you won't be able to stop eating. 

No matter how hectic life gets, there's always time for dessert. 

Blueberry Dumplings

2 cups flour

3 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

Pinch of cinnamon

Dash of fresh ground nutmeg

4 tablespoons shortening

¾-1 cup milk

3 cups berries

1 cup water

1tsp vanilla

1tsp lemon juice

1 cups sugar

For dumplings, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, nutmeg, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Cut in the shortening until combined and pea-like in texture. Slowly add milk, and stir with a fork until dough just holds together.

Meanwhile, in a large pot, bring berries, water, vanilla, lemon juice, and sugar to steady boil over medium heat.

Using a large spoon, spoon in the dumplings, don’t be fancy or worry about getting them round or perfect. Gently stir, and cook for 5-10 minutes until dumplings are cooked through. Be careful to not let mixture stick to the bottom and burn.

Serve warm with vanilla ice cream. And a smile.