I haven’t been to Mamnoon, but I’ll add my two cents worth about my experience at Café Munir. Overall, what I particularly liked about the food here was the fact that the spicing was in general more subdued and subtle than I’ve experienced in other Lebanese restaurants. (During the years I lived in Los Angeles, my place of work was located in an Armenian/Lebanese neighborhood with many wonderful restaurants.) Some people, like my wife for instance, may find the preparations at Café Munir “blander” than they like, but not me. For example, I thought the preparation of m’tab’bal (baba ghanoush) let the eggplant flavor sing without being overpowered, as it often is, by tahini. My wife, on the other hand, missed the more usual prominence of tahini and cumin. My wife and I also disagreed on the pastry turbans filled with spicy lamb and veggies, which I liked and my wife didn’t. But we both liked the winter greens with tomatoes and the chicken wings with a garlic sauce that was strikingly similar to the much revered garlic sauce at Zankou Chicken, one of my Los Angeles mainstays. And we both loved the Sheik Al Mahshi, eggplant stuffed with lamb in a tomato sauce. I liked the space and ambience, and thought the service was friendly and helpful, even if a little inattentive at times. Although the Ballard area is a schlep for me, since I live in the northeast corner of Seattle near Lake City (generally a culinary desert with a few exceptions), I’d happily return to Café Munir, even if it means twisting my wife’s arm a bit to do so.

By the way, with respect to the mention of Golden Beetle in this thread, a non-Seattle-based award-winning chef who specializes in Eastern Mediterranean-influenced cuisine, found the food at Golden Beetle “terrible.” Based on this chef’s privately expressed opinion, which I greatly respect, I’ve never been to Golden Beetle.

Thanks for the detailed and even-handed report, Kaleo. I’m glad that the anniversary dinner experience was, overall, a good one and that you were at least “whelmed.” I haven’t had any of the dishes that you and your bride chose, so was especially interested in your report. I always get inspiration for my own cooking from Nathan’s preparations, and the halibut with anchovy crust definitely got my attention.

I’ll add my experience at Café Munir to the thread where you reported your experience there (http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/885005), but I certainly understand and appreciate the “value” issue at all high-end restaurants, including Altura – an issue that I briefly raised in the thread that followed my post about my first visit to Altura (http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/8209...). It might be interesting to start a thread on Chowhound’s Greater Seattle board about what Seattle restaurants offer the best value for “high-end” dining (meaning expensive, carefully sourced ingredients used in complex, labor-intensive preparations, etc.). I’m willing to spend up for the occasional high-end meal, even though I completely understand the joy of eating less fussed-up and precious preparations that still manage to dazzle the palate at a fraction of the cost.

I think you order much more judiciously than I do, since my tab at Café Munir was $81 for my wife and me. Still a very good value, however.

Cheers,

Tom

Let me add my congratulations, Kaleo. Happy anniversary to you and your bride!

You can’t miss at either place in terms of the quality of the food. These are probably my two favorite restaurants in the area at the moment – with some close runners-up, of course. I just had dinner on Monday night at Spinasse and it was wonderful as always – a fabulous antipasto of shaved kolrhabi and watermelon radish with anchovy, meyer lemon, capers, and parmigiano reggiano; roasted Jerusalem artichokes with baga caoda; and capunet, a very rich but wonderful mixture of pork shoulder, foie gras, and potato wrapped in Swiss chard and served with a caramelized honey sauce. The only dish that I had any fault with was the stinging nettle risotto which I thought was a bit too heavy-handed with the lemon. But, all in all, it was another in a long series of amazing meals at Spinasse.

However, I agree with the others about the choice of Altura for your anniversary dinner. As you may recall, I have praised Altura effusively on Chowhound (http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/820980), and my many experiences since my last post have been nothing short of wonderful. Part of the reason for my recommendation has to do with ambience. I agree with dagoose that Spinasse has an informal, rustic, casual ambience that is not quite as celebratory as the ambience at Altura. Also, the dishes at Altura are less rustic and more refined and elegant than those at Spinasse. Like PAO and gingershelly, my wife and I usually sit at the counter, but primarily because I like watch the cooking and talk with Nathan and his cooks during the meal. (My favorite spot is in the center of the counter where Nathan usually works.) But for an anniversary dinner, I might be inclined to sit in one of the booths so that I could have a more intimate setting and focus my undistracted attention on my loved one. Unless your wife would feel like she would be missing out by not watching the preparation of the food, which admittedly is very enjoyable and entertaining, a booth seems like it might be more romantic. But either way, I’m confident that you will have a wonderful anniversary dinner at Altura.

Whevever you decide to go, I hope you will give us a report.

Tom

I think you’ll enjoy Spinasse. It is one of my top five favorite places to eat in Seattle. But a word of caution about my “three highly recommended dishes.” The menu at Spinasse changes often, so there is a high probability that these dishes won’t be on the present menu, given the fact that I posted about them 10 months ago. For your first visit, there are some items that tend to stay on the menu and are classics. One is tajarin al burro e salvia (thin hand-cut egg pasta with butter and sage), very rich with lots of butter but oh so delicious. However all the pastas are wonderful. One of the wonderful aspects of spring in the Pacific Northwest is the appearance of stinging nettles. Spinasse does a risotto with nettles, raw egg yolk, and parmigiano-reggiano that, if available, I don’t think I could resist. Another Spinasse classic that I always find hard to resist is the rabbit meatballs with roasted baby turnips and turnip greens. And as pricey as it is ($24), the “Pio Tosini” prosciutto di Parma is swooningly wonderful. If the prosciutto sounds appealing but the price and quantity are too much, ask for a half order. Don’t be afraid of ignoring these recommendations. Spinasse is an embarrassment of riches, and as often as I’ve eaten there it is always hard for me to choose among its many splendors. Enjoy!

Hi Gingershelley. Fancy meeting you on this board.

Inlet Grille is in the Silverdale Beach Hotel, 3073 NW Bucklin Hill Road, in Silverdale. I haven’t eaten there, but it sounds like the menu has lots of standard stuff on it (e.g., crab-and-artichoke dip, smoked salmon bisque) – at least “standard” for places that are aiming at a somewhat upscale market without trying anything too different or out of the mainstream. I agree with Mom2two’s post about Pho T&N in Poulsbo. I eat there a lot and it’s one of the few places in North Kitsap that rises above ho-hum for me. Green Garden Pho wasn’t on my radar, so I was glad to learn about that.

Tom

I’m a member of a group of wine lovers that meet once a year in connection with a nuclear medicine conference. These annual dinners are a tradition dating back 40 years. The participants come from all over the world (USA, Canada, Europe, South America, etc.) and the format is that each person brings one bottle of a prized wine from his or her cellar (two bottles per couple), and these wines are paired with food at a good local restaurant. The number of those attending these dinners is typically 20 to 30 individuals. This year the meeting is in Vancouver, BC. I am looking for a restaurant that would accommodate our group. A private room is ideal, but as long as the group can be seated together at one or two large tables and the restaurant is not so noisy that it makes it difficult to converse and to hear the oral presentations discussing the wines that have been brought, a private room isn’t critical. The other big issue is the corkage charge. I’m aware of the recent change allowing BYOB in Vancouver, but some restaurants have responded with a very hefty corkage charge of $30 or more per bottle, which would put them out of range cost-wise for our dinner. So I’m looking for suggestions for potentially suitable restaurants with good food, the ability to accommodate a large group, and reasonable corkage, hopefully under $20 or at least a willingness to negotiate a reasonable corkage fee. Most of the people will be staying at hotels near the Vancouver Conference Centre, so restaurants located far away might pose a problem with respect to travel time and cost of a taxi. Any suggestions from my fellow Chowhounds (I’m a long-time Chowhound now living in Seattle) will be deeply appreciated. Thanks.

Don’t get me wrong, equinoise, I share the love for Commander’s Palace. I ate there last month and had a fabulous experience, as I almost always do. I’m a huge fan of the elegant riff they do on Creole cuisine and think that the kitchen, under the present leadership of Chef Tory McPhail, is better than ever. And the service is always amazing. I also ate at Galatoire’s where the preparation of classics like shrimp rémoulade and crawfish maison was as good as ever and my order of redfish was cooked to perfection. The classics at Galatoire’s may be more “basic” than the preparations at Commander’s, but as a New Orleans institution, Galatoire’s clearly has its own claim to “importance.” Are Commander’s and Galatoire’s important landmarks of New Orleans? Of course. Is Cochon worthy of praise for making new interpretations of Cajun cuisine available in a city where Creole cuisine takes center stage? Yes, even though I’ve found the food at Cochon somewhat uneven. My only point is that I have a long list of wonderful places to eat in New Orleans (a list that I’m constantly adding to), and when I stop to ask if one place is "more important” or “better” than another, first I get dizzy thinking about it, then I get bored and conclude it really doesn’t make any difference. I’m happy to spread my love around without worrying about who I love more and who I love less, or which places on my list are “important” and which are not. Okay, enough of this. Now I have to plan my next trip to Louisiana.

Focusing just on the food at Jacques-Imo’s, not the “scene,” I had mixed results the last time I ate there, and nothing hit the "ethereal" level you experienced. It didn’t make me anxious to return to deal with the line, the wait, and the scene. But that was quite awhile ago. I’d defer to Gizmo, who I’ve discovered knows a lot more about NOLA and Louisiana cuisine than I do. On my visit to New Orleans in January, one of my faves was a weekend brunch at Coquette on Magazine Avenue – kind of upscale and trendy, but the food was really, really good.

I understand your point of view about Donald Link providing some interesting Cajun-inspired food in a city dominated by Creole cuisine. So I won’t quibble with you about whether or not this makes the New Orleans Cochon “important.” I know that in your post you only mentioned Cochon, but I think my response was colored by Randy’s inclusion of Commander’s Palace. Anyway, I’m really surprised that the Lafayette Cochon closed. I was in Louisiana just last month, and ate twice at the Lafayette Cochon, once on Monday, Jan. 21 and again the next night in order to partake of the whole pig that had been charcoal roasted in a Caja China that night (yum!). The restaurant seemed pretty busy on both nights, and no one leaked a word about closing, despite the fact that I had some long conversations with the staff. There were certainly places in Cajun Country where I had more “authentic” Cajun cuisine, but I enjoyed the food, the space, and the ambience at the Lafayette Cochon and was looking forward to a return visit. I’m really sorry to see it go.

Randy,

I agree that innovation that results in a new and lasting approach to how and what we eat (or drink) is a significant achievement. But I have a nit to pick about singling out Cochon and Commander’s Palace as “restaurants that define or epitomize a regional cuisine.” As I understand it, you were agreeing with a previous post, in which Gizmo described Cochon as “indeed an important restaurant” because of being “a big city resource representing one of the very few original American cuisines.” I have spent quite a bit of time in Louisiana, and recently ate at Cochon (both the original restaurant in New Orleans and the new restaurant in Lafayette) and Commander’s Palace. The Creole food at Commander’s Palace is excellent, as are many of the Cajun-influenced dishes at Cochon. But the fact of the matter is that there is an abundance of places in New Orleans and elsewhere in Louisiana where you can enjoy excellent Creole and Cajun food. It’s an embarrassment of riches and a food lover’s dream. Different places have different specialties. Some may be the place to go for Cajun boudin, others specialize in po’ boy sandwiches, and others feature traditional classics like gumbo. Collectively, they are ALL important representatives of these cuisines. Maybe I am misunderstanding the point you and Gizmo are making, but what useful purpose is served by singling out one or two restaurants and making them seem “special” or “unique” as representatives of Creole and Cajun cuisine? Maybe this inevitable under-inclusiveness is the fatal flaw in lists like the one in Bon Appétit, which seems merely to add further cachet to restaurants that are already well known and heavily hyped.

I think we have probably bludgeoned to death the meaning of “important” on this thread. But just to be clear, my previous comments about music, art, etc. didn’t have anything to do with “importance.” My comments were focused on the very different subject of style vs. substance, which has to do with the concepts of excellence, skill, and artistry, not “importance.” Obviously, I’m defensive about the suggestion that I throw words around willy-nilly. I have my faults, but I don’t think this is one of them. I am very clear about the difference between excellence, skill, and artistry on the one hand, and importance on the other hand. I also understand that “excellence” in preparing food isn’t important in the sense of addressing social issues like hunger, health, and nutrition. Finally, I understand how lucky I am, as are many Chowhounds, to be able to seek out and experience “excellence” in food. It’s a luxury that isn’t available to many others.

You've got a great memory. Yes, I posted a lot on the subject of sushi, and specifically Shibucho in its Yaohan Plaza days and its master itamae, Shibutani-san. At one point in the early 2000s, out of curiosity, I counted the number of my posts on Chowhound, and it was well over 2,000. Although I miss those early days of Chowhound and the small number of very knowledgeable posters it attracted (including Jonathan Gold), I still regard Chowhound as the best of the bulletin-board style food websites, and when I do decide to post, Chowhound is still my option of choice.

Some of us, like me for instance, move. I'm now living in Seattle. Another reason may be dwindling interest, given the huge number of food websites and posters and the crowded blogisphere, Unless you think you have something truly unique or new to contribute, why add just another voice to such a huge chorus. I think this is probably why I don't post nearly as prolifically on the Seatlle Board (and occasionally on other boards for places I've recently visited) as I used to in the heyday of my posting on the LA Board in the late 1990s and early 2000s..

Excellent point, TCW. Your observation could easily launch me into a diatribe about the current public appetite for style over substance in music, food, and many other aesthetic experiences. Not to take anything away from David Chang or Grant Achatz, but I still get very excited about a skillfully prepared plate of food with balanced and nuanced flavors, even if it is a classic that has been around forever and that I’ve had many times before. My wife gets tired of me saying it, but the classics are classics for a reason. So, for me, a big yes to the qualities of “consistency, technique, practice, and intelligence.” That is why I keep returning to places like Nell’s, which hardly ever gets mentioned on this Board, perhaps because it is a place where the white- and grey-haired set fill most of the tables, and is probably considered stodgy by many as compared with the noisy, high-energy vibe at places like Walrus & Carpenter. I like the food at W&C, but the flavors are certainly more punched-up and assertive than at places like Nell’s, Altura, or Book Bindery. I think of it in the same terms as the difference between concentrated, fruit-driven “new-world” style wines vs. the more subtle and nuanced style of “old-world” wines. Both styles have their place and can be enjoyable if the wine is well-made, but there’s a reason why “new-world” wines have gained such an edge in popularity. And, to further reveal what an old fuddy-duddy I am, I much prefer listening to a great jazz artist in a club where people quietly concentrate on the music, than a concert where flashing lights, special effects, and other similar production values are as important, if not more so, than the artistry of the musicians. Yes, I understand that artistry and substance aren’t necessarily incompatible with entertainment and style. And I suppose that places like W&C and Revel (another of my favorite places) demonstrate this. But there is still a difference between entertainment and artistry, and these days, when the two collide, as Food Network exemplifies, entertainment usually wins.

I’ve enjoyed reading all the thoughtful and interesting responses on this thread. I agree that adjectives like “important” or “best” are impossibly vague, and this vagueness doesn’t disappear even with Bon Appétit’s attempt to explain its criteria. And, of course, opinions about food are deeply subjective and people will inevitably attach different weight to factors like ambience, innovation, flavor, presentation, and service in assessing a restaurant. But, as the Chowhound boards amply demonstrate, we still enjoy sharing our opinions about food, and differences of opinion make these conversations all the more interesting. That said, I’ll comment on just one of BA’s criteria: “Not the trendiest restaurants or the ones with the most stars.”

I agree that it’s hard to take BA seriously on this. BA’s whole approach is to publicize what’s new and trendy, and the amount of time that a restaurant can stay in the spotlight isn’t usually very long. It’s kind of like the news industry – old news is no news. W&C got a lot of hype from an article in the New York Times by Frank Bruni, published in June 2011. In that article, Bruni waxed enthusiastically about W&C, using it as Exhibit A for his proclaimation: “To eat in and around Seattle, which I did recently and recommend heartily, isn’t merely to eat well. It is to experience something that even many larger, more gastronomically celebrated cities and regions can’t offer, not to this degree: a profound and exhilarating sense of place.” Bruni’s “sense of place” largely reflected the abundance of local shellfish and fish. And, as gingershelly astutely pointed out, I suppose that W&C, among Seattle’s many seafood-centric restaurants, captures an ambience of casual informality and conviviality that is associated with the Seattle lifestyle, at least among the younger set (although the price of this can be slow service, crowded seating, and a high noise level). Bruni described W&C’s atmosphere as “festive.” As is often the case for spiraling attention in response to an initial glowing report by a major reviewer, W&C got plenty of attention in media like USA Today, GQ Magazine, and previous mention by BA as one of the “Best New Restaurants in America.” I’m still mulling over whether W&C is “important” given BA’s criteria. But I understand that a case can be made that it is. By the way, the other restaurants on Bruni’s “list” were Seatown, Revel, Madison Park Conservatory, and Willows Inn.

There are some exceptions to “new and trendy” on BA’s list, like Swan Oyster Depot in San Francisco, whose history goes back to 1912. But aside from its history, its long-standing popularity, and the long lines to get a seat, why was Swan included in BA’s list? The food at Swan is good, but very standard stuff like Boston clam chowder, oysters on the half shell, and crab salad with iceberg lettuce and Louie dressing. Important?

In general, I agree with Kaleo about “lists” and “rankings.” Who cares? But sometimes they can provide a springboard for an interesting discussion.

Bon Appétit magazine recently announced its list of “the 20 most important restaurants in America,” selected by the magazine’s restaurant editor, Andrew Knowlton. The selection is described as not the fanciest or trendiest restaurants or the ones with the most stars, but rather “the places that define how we eat out,” the “fearless spots that drive chefs to innovate, restaurateurs to imitate, and the rest of us to line up. In short, “the restaurants that matter right now.”

Given that criteria, one Seattle restaurant made the list – The Walrus and the Carpenter. I think W&C is a perfectly fine place, even though the oysters there aren’t any better than those at a number of other Seattle venues and the selection is quite limited. My reason for going to W&C is its prepared fish and shellfish dishes like mackerel crudo, scallop tartare, and squid with romesco. But, as nice as these dishes are, the choice of W&C as the “most important” restaurant in Seattle strikes me as odd. What do other Hounds think?

For what it’s worth, I found a number of other choices on Bon Appétit’s list equally if not more puzzling. But I understand that this is in the nature of, if not the raison d’être of, such lists.

Bakeman’s has been around seemingly forever and is amazingly consistent, so no need for an update there. I second Lauren’s recommendation for Il Corvo, although I haven’t yet been to its new location in Pioneer Square.

I was very underwhelmed by my first meal at Shanik. This was also the unanimous opinion of the other three people at my table, including a friend who is extremely knowledgeable about Indian food, which I confess I am not. It’s been a long time since I ate at Vij’s in Vancouver, BC, so I don’t remember a lot of specifics about my experiences there. But in general I remember being blown away by the food at Vij’s, so was very excited to check out Shanik. I’ll start with some general comments. First, I thought the food lacked complexity without the layered, spiky, offsetting and contrasting flavors I look for in Indian cuisine. The flavor of the sauces, in particular, seemed too “integrated” without distinct edges or overlaps, a characteristic I associate with long-simmering, as opposed to food that is cooked up fresh with lots of contrasting notes. Second, in most dishes, there was too much sauce in relation to the main ingredients. And third, unlike some, I thought the service was fine. Now to the details. Our table of four had the following dishes:

Complimentary pakora served as an amuse-bouche: It was perfectly okay, although not anything terribly special. Nice crisp, non-greasy crust and a nice amount of heat, although a little heavy on the cumin.

Sautéed onions and tomatoes on paneer: I liked this dish more than my dining companions. For me, it was comfort food – very sweet (in a nice way from the caramelized onions) and easy on the palate.

Spicy Indian crepe (“pura”) with bacon, onion, and tomatoes: The owner, Meeru Dhalwaya, told us that this was one of the customers’ favorite dishes on the menu. Neither I nor my dining companions found it either very spicy or very interesting.

Brussels sprouts with bell peppers, cashews, and paneer: All of us at the table thought this was a nice dish. Not amazing, but nicely prepared with a nice combination of flavors and textures.

Portobello mushroom and rapini with mustard green curry: This was, by consensus, one of the least favorite of the dishes we had. The sauce was much blander than I had expected from the menu description and lacked complexity.

Marinated and seared pork medallions with ricotta, fenugreek, and garlic: The pork was tough and chewy. The sauce was okay, but not very complex.

Oven-braised goat meat with fennel and kalonji: The goat meat had been taken off the bone and was very tasty and meltingly tender. However, the amount of meat on the plate was pretty scanty in relation to the large amount of sauce, and the sauce wasn’t very interesting.

Spice-encrusted lamb popsicles (ribs) with split pea and spinach mash and coconut curry: The split pea and spinach mash and the curry sauce were pretty tasty, and my friend who knows much more about Indian food than I do, liked it a lot more than I did. But the lamb, which we had been told would be medium rare, was medium well at best. When we pointed this out to our server and showed her the meat, she told us that the cooks that had been hired were “home cooks” who were “in training” and that most of them didn’t have experience cooking meat. Hmmmm. The one thing that I do remember from Vij’s is the lamb popsicles with a fenugreek cream curry sauce on turmeric and spinach potatoes, one of the signature dishes at Vij’s which I prefer to the very different preparation at Shanik.

I didn’t like the naan, which was dense and lacked the crispness, lightness, and smoky char of a tandoor.

The price point of the food seemed a little high for the portion size, but no one at my table would have minded this if the food had been significantly better. And $6.25 for a medium-size glass of Interurban IPA from Fremont Brewing???

Admittedly, my expectations were pretty exalted given the memories of meals I’d had a Vij’s. And, also admittedly, the restaurant is still new and young, and I’m sure it will improve with time.

Meeru Dhalwala came to our table at the end of our meal and we gave her our honest assessment, as set forth above. She acknowledged that there appeared to be a problem with the grilling of the meat items, and took the lamb popsicles off our bill. She was very open to criticism, for which I give her credit. But I’m wondering if the problems at Shanik lie just in execution, or whether there’s a deeper problem in the recipes. It will be quite a while before I’ll be up for a return visit, so in the meantime I’ll be interested in following what other Chowhounds think.

I like the burger at Sand Point Grill on Sand Point Way, just east of Seattle Children’s Hospital. They almost always do a good job of cooking it the way you want it, and if you want it rare (like I do), you get it rare. It’s not in the under-$8 range, coming in at $12 on the regular menu. But I usually get it at the happy hour (4 to 6 pm in the bar), which knocks $2 off, and at $10, I think it’s a good value. The burger is made from good Northwest grass-fed beef and comes with onion marmalade, mayo, lettuce, tomato, bacon, and Beecher’s Flagship cheese on an Essential Bakery bun. I usually add a little ketchup. The fries are really good too. Paired with a $3 draft beer (happy hour price), you get a tasty and satisfying meal for around $17 tax and tip included. BTW, there’s other tasty stuff on the Happy Hour menu, like a big bowl of large Totten Inlet Mussels in a very tasty broth.

Thanks for the information and correction, Burk. I'll have to check out Skagit River Ranch's buyers' clubs. A lot of my contacts with organic farmers are in East Jefferson County on the Olympic Peninsula. Sedro Woolley is a bit out of the way for me, but a visit to Skagit River Ranch and the farm store sounds like a nice Saturday road trip.

I agree with the many kudos bestowed in this thread on the chicken liver terrine at Le Pichet. I used to think that it was the best in the Greater Seattle Area. But that was before I had the exquisite chicken liver pâté at Restaurant Marché on Bainbridge Island. The Marché version has a somewhat denser texture and a deeper, richer, more intense chicken liver flavor. I believe that Marché’s owner-chef, Greg Atkinson, purchases the entire supply of chicken livers available from Skagit River Ranch in Sedro Woolley. Whatever the source, and however he prepares his paté, I think it is amazingly wonderful. However, if you like a lighter, creamier, less “livery” version, then you might still prefer Le Pichet’s preparation.

Thanks all for the flattering comments. I’m not a professional writer and don’t have any professional connection to the food industry. I’m just a guy who is passionately interested in food – both preparing it and eating it. I discovered Chowhound in its early days, just after Jim Leff started it in 1997. In those days, I was living in Los Angeles and posted mostly on the Los Angeles Area Board. I now live in Seattle, and post mostly on the Greater Seattle Board. But I also post on other Chowhound boards when I think I have something interesting to share. Recent posts have included the Greater Boston Area Board, the San Francisco Bay Area Board, the San Diego Board, and the General Topics Board. I used to post a lot, especially in the late 1990s and early 2000s. I’m not sure why, but I post much more sparingly now.

My wife and I were in Atlanta last week and ate at Holeman & Finch (dinner), Alma Cocina (dinner), Empire State South (lunch), Bacchanalia (dinner), and White Oak Kitchen (two lunches). My wife was attending a conference at the Hyatt Regency downtown, so the choices of Alma Cocina and White Oak Kitchen were based on time constraints and proximity to the hotel.

I loved my experience at Holeman & Finch. I am one of those rare Americans who happen to enjoy eating offal, which at H&F is mostly included in the “Parts” section of the menu. Although there is more offal on some menus these days than used to be the case, the selection and variety at H&F is an offal-lover’s delight. My wife and I had a trio of pig’s ear bologna, coppa, and lardo. All good, but the pig’s ear bologna was spectacular. We also enjoyed the skillet fried corn with pardon peppers and scallion-lime mayo, the lamb fries (testicles), the pork belly buns, and the veal sweetbreads. The portion of sweetbreads was far more generous than I’ve had at other restaurants, and although they were a little bit drier than I like, the flavor was wonderful. My wife doesn’t like brains, but I do, and I thought H&F’s veal brains with black butter were wonderful. A big bonus was the cocktail that Greg Best, mixologist extraordinaire and co-owner of H&F, prepared for me. Seattle is on the forefront of the craft cocktail renaissance, and I mentioned to my server that I enjoyed a cocktail called “The Last Word,” revived by Seattle mixologist Murray Stenson, who was named the best bartender in America at Tales of the Cocktail in 2010. The server suggested Greg Best’s variation on The Last Word called “Which Way,” which adds some mint to the other ingredients. It was terrific. I also liked the Southern Tier Double IPA and the Founders Red’s Rye Ale. All in all, a wonderful evening of good and interesting food, good drinks, and great service.

I had a good, but not as exciting, experience for lunch at Empire State South. The best dish was perhaps the chilled pepper soup. My wife and I also shared the smoked trout mousse, the hangar steak, the catfish, charred okra, and an ice cream sandwich with beet ice cream sandwiched between chocolate cookies that was weirdly interesting but that didn’t work for me.

Dinner at Alma Cocina was very disappointing. The menu looked interesting enough when I looked at it on Alma’s website, and there were some good ratings on food websites. But in general the food was clumsily prepared and the flavors muddled. For example, I love huitlacoche, but in Alma’s huitlacoche empanada, the huitlacoche was imperceptible in the mish-mash of other ingredients. None of the many dishes I sampled impressed me.

Prior to the trip, White Oak Kitchen wasn’t on my radar, perhaps because it opened relatively recently. But it was right across from our hotel, so it was an easy choice for a lunch squeezed in between my wife’s meetings. My wife’s and my initial meal there was very impressive. Two stars of the show were the Pencil Cob grits with melted Chanterelle mushrooms, in which the flavors enhanced but did not overpower the delicate taste of the Chanterelles, and the Gulf white shrimp, which were perfectly cooked, firm and moist, and robed in delicious tomato butter. The other star of the show was the dessert, consisting of reisling-poached figs served on a lemon-thyme cake with olive oil/vanilla sponge ice cream. Fabulous! My wife had the wild boar pastrami sandwich (I’m always amused by the “wild” designation of farm raised animals) and the BLT deviled eggs, both of which were good even if they didn’t reach the heights of the other dishes mentioned above. Again for reasons of time and convenience, we returned for a second lunch the next day. My wife and I shared the charcuterie plate, roasted cauliflower with chevre hummus, caramel fried chicken, and the B.E.L.T. (bacon, egg salad, lettuce and tomato) sandwich. Although each of these was good, none were as good as the grits and Chanterelle mushroom, the shrimp with tomato butter, or the fig dessert we had on the previous day. I was puzzled by the “caramel fried chicken” which is prepared by first cooking the chicken sous vide with condensed milk to caramelize the chicken and then frying it. Despite all this effort, the caramel flavor escaped me. Overall, though, both my wife and I liked White Oak a lot and would certainly go there again on our next trip to Atlanta. It is a very open, light, and inviting space, and in addition to the good-to-excellent food and a good selection of bourbon, the service on both of our visits was absolutely first rate.

Believe it or not, Bacchanalia was a disappointment. Some of the dishes were unquestionably both creative and delicious – such as the sweetbreads dusted with almonds, the pork loin (which was some of the best pork I’ve ever had), the amazingly creative and wonderful burrata ice cream with toasted oats, and the fig soufflé. But other dishes were not as impressive. The wine pairings were uneven and overpriced for the quality, such as the tempranillo served with the sweetbreads which was bland and didn’t carry enough fruit to balance the acid. However, the major downer was the service. The young woman who was our server was cursed with an ice-cold, robotic personality, and was curt, abrupt, and pushy. Two minutes after presenting my wife and I with the menus, she returned to ask if we were ready to order. We weren’t. Then she returned about three minutes later to ask again. We told her we needed more time. When she returned the third time only about two or three minutes later to ask again, I could see my wife’s temperature begin to rapidly rise, and I knew it was going to be difficult to win back her enthusiasm for the dining experience. This cold, indifferent attitude on our server’s part persisted through the entire meal. As I observed the demeanor of the other servers to see if we just had a bad draw on our server, most of the other servers also projected a stiff formality that didn’t seem to be designed to create a warm, relaxed, comfortable mood. It seemed part of a design to project an atmosphere of seriousness and reverence. Shouldn’t eating be fun? At the prices charged by Bacchanalia, the least thing you want is to be in a constant state of irritation throughout the meal. In addition, the pacing of the dishes was way too fast, and we weren’t able to slow things down. I understand the desire of a restaurant to turn their tables, but not at the expense of a good experience by its customers. My wife and I left the restaurant feeling upset and disappointed.

Thanks for the tip, equinoise. I wasn’t aware of this place and it sounds wonderful.

To aynrandgirl: In my experience, it’s a process that takes some time, and goes something like this:

First visit to a Thai restaurant: Me: “I’d like my [name of dish] spicy.” Waitperson: “How spicy?” “Well, one a scale of one to five, about a four, but Thai spicy, not American spicy” Dish arrives. Waitperson: “Is that spicy enough?” Me: “It’s very tasty, but next time you can make it spicier.”

This process continues through a sufficient number of visits until they get to know you and arrive at the desired level of heat. It takes some time and experience for them to be confident that you can really handle the heat level, and that they won’t disappoint you by making the dish unpalatably hot. Not every restaurant follows this model, and some might give you all the heat you want on your first visit, but in the main, most are afraid of making the dish unpleasantly hot, and so proceed cautiously. But if you’re patient, you’ll get there eventually.

I personally like a lot of heat in some dishes, particularly Isaan dishes, but other dishes, like those from Northern/Northwestern Thailand where the influences are more Burmese and Chinese, rather than Laotian, are often mild and not at all spicy hot. In any event, I draw the line at so much heat that it is numbing and I can’t appreciate the flavors of a dish.

There aren’t many advantages to being an old fogey, but one of them is the memories of eating the creations of some great French chefs in the 1970s and 80s – Paul Bocuse, Michel Guérard (where I chose his classic dishes over his cuisine minceur), Alain Senderens (at L’Archestrate), and others. But the sweetest memory of all was at Frères Troisgros in 1983, when both Pierre and Jean Troigros were working in the kitchen. Jean died shortly after this visit in August 1983. My then-wife, oldest daughter (who was living in France), and I went there for dinner. Although the entire meal more than met my exalted expectations, I was particularly intrigued by an appetizer called simply “sole et lasagne,” consisting of ribbons of sole fillets woven together in a quilt with multi-colored pasta, and robed in a light sorrel cream sauce. As a serious home cook, I was intrigued by how they had cooked the pasta and fish perfectly together as a quilt, given their different cooking times, and held the fragile quilt together during the cooking process. As he was making his rounds in the dining room, I asked Pierre Troigros, “How did you do that?” “What are you doing tomorrow morning?” he replied. So it was that I spent four hours the next morning in the kitchen of Frères Troisgros, attentively absorbing the inner workings of the kitchen of one of the most heralded restaurants in the world, and learning how to make “sole et lasagne.” Talk about lucky breaks!!!

I too love classic French cuisine and miss Gerard’s Relais de Lyon. This thread also reminded me of a wonderful meal that I enjoyed shortly after I moved to Seattle in 1972. It was at the Mirabeau Restaurant, located on the top floor of what is now Safeco Plaza (then the Sea-First Bank Building). Although plagued by chef changes, Mirabeau had some very competent classic French chefs at the helm during its existence. At that first dinner at the Mirabeau, my first course was an ethereally light, deeply flavored classic Quenelle Lyonnaise made with pike. Oh my! Crepe de Paris, when Dominique Place was the chef there, and his subsequent restaurant in Madison Park, Dominique’s Place (which closed in 1990), were also venues for wonderful classical French cuisine.

Looking for some really exceptional dishes? A recent meal at Spinasse included these three gems:

Finanziera della primavera: sweetbreads with the season’s first porcini, garlic scapes, and rabbit liver butter. This is not a classic finanziera (which I learned refers to the elegant formal jacket commonly worn in the 19th century by bankers in Torino) since it doesn’t include many of the other “scraps” for which this dish from Piedmont is known, such as cockscomb, rooster wattles and testicles, veal brain and veins, etc. But it’s a damn tasty dish and the porcinis really shine.

Local quail (from Mad Hatcher in Ephrata) prepared a la Piemontese with snap peas, cream, nutmeg, and lovage.

A dessert with goat cheese mousse, rhubarb gelantina, and ginger crumble. One of my pet peeves is over-sweetening naturally tart ingredients like rhubarb and gooseberries. In this dish the rhubarb is appropriately tart but the effect is softened by the goat cheese mousse. The flavors were beautifully balanced.

All winners and all highly recommended.

To the best of my knowledge, Taylor doesn't have any operations in Penn Cove. Taylor is a signicant player in the shellfish market, harvesting around 50 million oysters per year, but Coast Seafoods, who is in a joint venture with Penn Cove, is larger, owning and operating more than 14,000 acres of Pacific Coast tidelands. Last year, Coast was purchased by Oregon seafood giant Pacific Seafood Group.

The State Department of Health has reopened the northern part of Penn Cove for recreational and commercial shellfish harvesting, but the southern portion, south of Mueller Park, is still closed. Predictions are that this portion will also reopen soon.

My gripe with the oysters at Taylor’s retail store in Melrose Market is that they are put into tanks with artificially salinated water, thus destroying all the delicious oyster “liquor” from the plankton-rich natural seawater. I’d much rather eat a live oyster that is put on ice with all of its natural liquor intact.

One example is Root, a liquor made by Art in the Age. I know that many mixologists in Seattle were asking the WSLCB to order it, as did I. But to no avail. Interestingly, however, the WSLCB did stock another Art in the Age liquor, Rhuby, with which I’ve enjoyed experimenting.

Great report, gingershelly. I’d been looking forward to it, and was interested to learn that your experience was generally positive.

After thinking about our favorite places to eat in Seattle, my wife and I chose to celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary by returning to Altura last Friday night. Any doubts I might have had after my last reported experience here (where I questioned the negative effect of my grumpy mood) were compellingly erased. It was an absolutely spectacular experience in every aspect of the meal – the creativeness and quality of the food, the wine pairing, and the service. It’s not often when this somewhat jaded eater gets this excited and walks away from a meal on cloud nine, but that’s exactly what happened. From the amuse-bouche (an amazingly delicious asparagus flan) to the dessert, my wife and I spent the evening exchanging knowing looks and rolling our eyes with wonder and admiration as we experienced each of our five-courses. (Like you, my wife and I do the plate switcheroo thing to double our experience.) Standouts included the perfectly tender and moist grilled octopus; the asparagus and duck egg; the smoked kampachi with an amazing combination of anchovy crumb and smoked steelhead roe; tagliatelle with basil-fed snails from the Mt. Shasta area in California; the pappardelle with braised tripe and oxtail, a favorite of both my wife and me, which carried a little more heat (cayenne?) than the last time I had it, to good effect; and an absolutely perfectly cooked and flavorful Snake River Farms ribeye. My wife swooned as much over her marcarpone gelato drizzled with Aceto balsamico as I did over my astonishingly delicious sorrel sorbet paired with a moscato poached peach. The evening turned out to be one of those rare magical experiences where simply everything was extraordinary. The nits I had previously picked with service were nowhere in evidence. The well-chosen wine pairings came right when they should. And the food – ah, the food. Chef Lockwood’s passion for sourcing – finding unusual ingredients like the basil-fed snails and always searching for higher quality products – is matched by the creativity of his pairings and his technical execution of the dishes. My wife and I enthusiastically concurred that our dinner last Friday night was one of the best overall experiences we have had in a long, long time.