Food News: Boom Noodle open

...and packed! At least it was at lunch yesterday when I wandered in, without knowing it was opening day. The place was bustling. Looked like the owners (the Blue C sushi guys) invited lots of friends and family to come in; they were working the room and hugging everyone in sight.

I get the feeling the Pike/Pine corridor will be embracing this place.

UPDATE: *OR NOT! The "Capital Hill is the new Bellevue" bitching has already begun over at the Stranger. It's basically the same moaning and groaning that went on when the hideous Mexican place finally closed and reopened as Quinn's.

I find the above complaints semi-entertaining, and I can relate to the feeling of loss over the few great places that have been (or probably will be) shut down or forced to move.

But what I don't understand is this: Where have all of these whiners been for the last decade? And why is this all so surprising to them? Because there were plenty of warning signs that Capital Hill was jumping the shark, or at least growing up and becoming less of a sh*thole. Like, um, Julia's opening on Broadway six years ago. Yeah, you know, Julia's, the brunch spinoff from Wallingford! Not exactly punk rock.

Mourn Capital Hill, and maybe think about moving someplace less glossy (and less expensive!). But quit the shock routine. It's getting a bit silly.

Boom Noodle (warning: website semi-broken)



[where: 98122]

Good Read: The Surly Gourmand reviews Quinn's

Everywhere you turn there's a review of Capital Hill's new gastropub, Quinn's. But none comes close to the quality and hilarity of the Surly Gourmand's review. Before you click, you should know that it's chock-full of, urh, colorful language.


Three choice quotes:

No one ever asks me before they open a business in this town. If they did I would have said “No gastropubs because they’re for yuppie douche bags. Now make out with your twin sister and let me videotape it.” But they opened Quinn’s anyway.

...So we had to order something more substantial. Like the brandade ($7). Brandade (not to be confused with a Band- Aid) is mashed salt cod. Sometimes it’s mashed with potatoes. Sometimes not. Quinn’s version was combined with potatoes and lots of rosemary. The salt cod adds a rich pelagic essence to the potatoes, and while it does taste fishy, the fishiness is muted and distant and salty, like a sea breeze. Damn tasty. The brandade was served with a plate of Quinn’s house made potato chips. These were a fucking revelation: easily the best chips I’ve ever eaten in my life, and I’ve been pretty stoned.

Some of the menu items are REALLY good, but others are as lame as someone who admits they own a Labradoodle. If you live on Capitol Hill and can stand the idea of eating at a gastropub, go to Quinn’s. But don’t go now: wait a couple of weeks until after the hipsters and “foodies” (AKA bored old people) have gotten over this place and you can actually get a table.

I'm his new #1 fan. Read it and laugh, fellow "bored old people."

[where: 98122]

Eating Seattle: Crush

It was a long time coming. Crush has been at the top of my must-go-to list for years, and with chef/owner Jason Wilson's recent accolades (especially the biggie: he was named best new chef 2006 by Food & Wine), well, it was obvious we needed to see (and taste) what we'd been missing.


And what's better than a surprise? Ed had not only made reservations without telling me, he also landed us two seats at the bar. We both love sitting at the bar (and with a baby that's not happening anymore), but it's even more fun to sit at the bar when the seats offer a view into a busy working kitchen, which these do. Great husband, great surprise.

So we toasted. I had a perfectly crisp, sparkling Cremant D'Alsace and Ed had a gibson. Off to a great start, we picked up our menus. So many things were calling our names: sweetbreads, foie, heirloom tomato salad (the last of the year probably), braised octopus, and that's just from the appetizer menu.

We knew we needed a plan. Luckily we were in no rush, so we decided to make our own tasting, just like we did at Matt's. Four dishes (three apps, one entree), each served as a course. We'd ask the bartender to suggest wines along the way. And we were off!

A trio of tartares arrived first. Sweet, sweet scallop in a barely-there ginger sauce atop tiny shreds of carrot; a more traditional tartare of tuna with pickled olives--a fascinating take. But the killer was the hamachi: slices of the raw fish with itty specs of crispy bacon. Wow. We continued with the Cremant, which was outstanding with the tartares.

Next up: Buttermilk fried sweetbreads on a bacony celery root slaw, with honey mustard. It's funny they're serving them like this because, once, when I was trying to talk a friend into trying sweetbreads I told her to pretend it was fried chicken. Crush is riffing on that here, but while we both enjoyed this dish, the bacon flavor in the slaw was just too much for the sweetbreads; we couldn't taste them. We shared a glass of J. Rijckaert Chardonnay with this. Good enough pairing, but Ed's glass of French pinot noir was actually better with the bacony flavor of the dish.

Next came the braised-then-grilled octopus tangled with hunks of merguez sausage, drizzled with chorizo oil and tossed with a bit of gremolata. I was really looking forward to trying this combo, so it was a bummer when it just wasn't very good. The major problem was that the octopus had an unpleasant, thick texture, similar to well-done liver. And the rest of the dish was all smoky meaty-ness. It lacked contrast. Perhaps more gremolata could've given our palates a break from all the meat and smokey oil; as it was, the dish was very one-note. We had a glass of barbera with this, which was good with all the smokiness.

Next we had the duck, seared with aromatic spices (lavender, clove, fennel and a bunch more that I can't remember), with braised onion and topped with little chunks of sweet fresh peaches. They really hit this one out of the park. We loved the perfect crackling layer of skin, and the meat was tender and gorgeously rosy. I want to go back for this dish. We both had glasses of the fantastic Sheridan cab Franc from the Yakima Valley. By far our favorite wine of the night (ok, maybe not by far, since that Cremant was such a perfect brut).

Of course we had to have cheese (maybe just an excuse to drink more wine?). We had Sally Jackson sheep's milk cheese, served with a plum sauce; Delice's cow's milk brie served with violet jam, and my favorite, the Cana de Cabra goat cheese, a nicely chalky goat served with quince syrup. We stayed with our Sheridan cab Franc for this course. Lordy, I do love cheese.

We ended with a surprise gift from the kitchen: five homemade chocolates, my favorite being the rosemary. A fitting ending to a wonderful evening.


Service was flawless, pacing was nice--I hate being rushed through dinner, and they must've sensed we weren't in a hurry. The restaurant's location (a pretty house on a hill) affords for personal spaces; tables aren't lost in a cavernous dining room but rather tucked into the corners of what would've been a living room, or a sitting room. And though I'm not a fan of the Jetsons-ish furniture, the low, soft lighting helps to create a warm, inviting air. We will be back.



[where: 98112]

Eating Seattle: Stumptown Coffee

One of the benefits of my current stay-at-home-mom gig is the freedom to check out new places as soon as I can squeeze a trip in between Ruby's naps. So, as soon as Ruby'd had a little something to eat, we packed Callie into the car and took a trip to the brand-new Stumptown Coffee shop on 12th.

Stumptown's a coffee roaster and espresso shop out of Portland. They won the Roaster of the Year award last year from Roast Magazine, and they've been featured in the NY Times, Food & Wine, the list goes on. What you need to know (aside from whether their coffee is any good) is that the owner, Duane Sorenson, flies all over the world to source beans, and then buys them direct. And when you buy coffee from Stumptown, more money goes to the farmers growing the beans than at just about any other coffee shop around.


But you can't taste it if you can't find it. It took me a little bit to figure out where Stumptown was, since I didn't have an address, just a vague memory of reading something about it being "on the stretch of 12th where Lark and Presse are." They don't have a sign up yet, so in case you're doing the back-and-forth, illegal u-turn thing I did this morning, it's right next to Presse.

We walked into the space and were given a really warm welcome, which is sort of refreshing in a place that attracts hipsters in hipster uniforms (a girl in black stirrup legwarmers!!! with red flats. come on.) The barristas even flirted with Ruby to keep her occupied when I had to plant her on the floor to grab my coffee and scone. Cute guys too, btw. Cute with a capital "c".



I ordered an Americano and one of the barristas said, "a lot of Americanos in Seattle, huh" to the other guy, who then said, "I think that shows that people here like the taste of coffee." So I'm thinking these guys are Portland Stumptowners up in Seattle for the launch? If so, I'm impressed.

We also got a cheddar-dill scone, cut and filled with cream cheese. They're getting pastries from Macrina, which I love; it's a nice nod to a bakery that many pass up in the search for Seattle's newest, hottest, trendiest. Doughnuts are from Mighty-O, which, well, let's just say I think they makes the third best doughnuts in Seattle (after Dunkin'). Sorry, Mighty-O!

That scone! Why haven't I had a scone filled with cream cheese before? After all, some scones (like this one) are biscuits' cousins. Even Ruby loved it.


But you're not coming for the scones. The coffee was really smooth, and not hit-you-over-the-head strong. The closest comparison would be Vivace, but this coffee is just a very pleasant, balanced taste. I really liked my coffee.

You'll also want to spend a little time in the space, which is refreshingly un-grungy. We've got enough Friends-type slumpy-couched coffee shops, right? Gorgeous white leather sofas (these might even be considered Davenports, people!), an exposed brick wall, wood floors, and tons of that bright-grey light we all get for free nine months a year, streaming through a wall of windows. We sat, we people-watched, and we wished we could've stayed longer.



[where: 98122]