Join Us For Dim Sum at Dahlia Lounge
As you know, March is Dine Around Seattle month, where restaurants jam with the hubbub of deal seekers. And Dahlia Lounge will be no different, bless their hearts, feeding the masses on the cheap.
But don’t worry. Because Seattle Foodies has your back, you won’t be elbow-to-elbow with the herd for the March First Friday Lunch Club. We’re getting a double dose of exclusive: we’re taking over the private dining room at the Dahlia Lounge, plus we’ll feast on a custom session of dim sum creations from Dahlia’s sous chef (and Lovefest! wizard) Adrienne Lasko!
The drill: arrive at 11:30am on Friday, March 5th, and start gorging. The cost is $25/person (before tax & tip) and includes drinks like coffee, tea, and juice. But go ahead and fortify yourself with additional beverages if you like—they’ll keep track with separate checks.
So finally. Will Seattle have an awesome dim sum joint? You be the judge. Adrienne will be looking for your foodie feedback, so please join us and help shape the future of delicious dim sum in Seattle!
And please R.S.V.P. by next Wednesday so we can get a headcount to Adrienne.
UPDATE: Adrienne just sent this menu proposal:
Soup:- Family-style congee with all the fixings
- Curried samosas
- Shiitake chopsticks
- Five-spice duck wontons
- Eggplant humbao
- Pork momo (dumplings)
- Banana leaf ~ sticky rice
- Chinese broccoli ~ miso hollandaise
- Ginger ~ scallion Hong Kong soba noodles
WOW! Now I am drooling!
Join Us Friday at Baguette Box
With Lovefest! fast approaching, February’s First Friday Lunch Club will go for something that feels a bit more simple and casual. But don’t be fooled, there’s nothing simple about truffle fries, braised Bershire pork belly, Painted Hills’ lemongrass steak, or roasted leg of lamb sandwiches. Or any of the other delicious sides, sandwiches, and salads that Eric Bahn (owner/chef of Monsoon and Monsoon East) is serving at Baguette Box (1203 Pine Street, Capitol Hill).
Baguette Box is definitely one of my favorite joints. So please join us next Friday, February 5 at 11:30. Depending on how many can make it, we should be able to graze most of their menu, which you can browse by clicking on the image above—but have a napkin handy, because you’ll be drooling in no time.
As always, please please R.S.V.P. if you’re coming so we can work with Eric’s crew to handle our group.
See you there!
Join Us Friday at Txori
Another year, another thousand or so meals to look forward to! If that sounds daunting, perhaps you’re feeling a wee bit saturated from all the holiday feasting. But fear not: we have the solution for January’s First Friday Lunch Club: tapas are the smallest of small plates, and Txori (2207 2nd Avenue, between Blanchard & Bell) packs some phenomenal tastes into those little Spanish bites. (Txori is the Harvest Vine’s little sister.)
So this Friday, we’ll let everyone set their own pace. Nibble one or two bites, or mow through the menu (separate checks are in order, I think). Personally, just thinking about Spain will help me get through this dreary, rainy week.
We’ll arrive just before Noon when they open. As always, please R.S.V.P. if you’d like to join us so we can work with the restaurant to accommodate everyone.
See you then!
P.S. Fast guide: “Txori” is pronounced “chore – ee” and “pintxos” means tapas. Just remember that “tx” is Basque for “ch” and you’ll be fine.
First Friday Foodie Lunch Club: Serious Pie
Today the First Friday Lunch Club finally got serious. Not because we clubbed Serious Pie, but this month we did some advance planning (and “research”) with the restaurant manager (Scott) and chef (Gray Brooks). The result was a pre-planned appetizer and pizza tasting that ranged deliciously across (nearly) the entire menu.
But we weren’t too serious. When Grace ordered a glass of wine, the rest of us fell like dominoes (the game, not the abominable pizza). And with wine all-around it was a good thing that the appetizers and pizzas were on autopilot. And what appetizers and pizzas they were.
The apps were rich and generous, filled with a variety of seasonal flavors. Sweet sour winter squash “caponata” (traditional caponata is made with eggplant) with cipollini onions and pine nuts. Cute thumbelina carrots with sage and chunks of ricotta caprina. Even the foods we wanted to hate as kids: Baby beets richened with anchovies, crunchy with pistachios, and brightened with mint. Brussel sprouts with pork belly and crisp croutons. And then there was the crazy good (and crazy fun) toasted apple sandwiches with truffle fonduta for dipping.
Not bad for a warm up. But the pizza . . . well, it’s no wonder Serious Pie’s been in the middle of a snowstorm of accolades recently (One of Seattle Met’s Top Ten Restaurants, Nancy Leson In Lust with Serious Pie, Andrew Zimmern: “easily the best pizza I ate all last year”).
One reason, and my favorite thing about Serious Pie, is that they don’t “break” the cheese. Most places load up uncooked pizza dough with toppings and cheese, slam the whole mess in the oven, and cook it til the crust is done. The result? The cheese goes beyond melt and breaks, just like a bad mayonnaise. The oil-and-milk-solid emulsion separates, leaving greasy pools of oil soaking the pizza (and your hand). Serious Pie cooks their crusts and toppings first, and adds the cheese for the last minute or so. The result? Creamy, melted cheese goodness. At Summer Camp 2008, we did a side-by-side taste test. The broken cheese was a disgusting mess compared to the rich, velvety cheese-done-right. (Other pizza joints, please, pretty please take note!)
My other favorite thing about Serious Pie is the fantastic flavor combos. Cherry bomb peppers and sweet fennel sausage. Roasted chanterelles and truffle cheese. Penn cove clams, house pancetta, and lemon thyme. House salumi, Walla Walla onions, and Sole de Sardegna cheese. Guanciale, soft egg, and arugula. Delicata squash, garlic, and gorgonzola lucifero (with chili peppers). They speak for themselves. And none of which, by the way, are allowed to make the crust soggy. (Other joints, pretty please?)
I’m drooling.
As if things couldn’t get better, we welcomed two Christinas and Kathy as new-comers to the Club. Next month we’ll be lunching on December 4. So just holler if you’d like to join us!
Poppy Hosts the Capitol Hill Chamber of Commerce
Benefit dinners can be such a mixed bag. You want to help, but you can’t bear facing another rubber chicken nestled in gummy fettucini. Fortunately, the Capitol Hill Chamber of Commerce has a secret weapon: Jerry Traunfeld and his dynamite new Poppy. You don’t need to reminded of Jerry’s reign at Herbfarm, and I’ve raved about his Herbfarm Cookbook
Thus armed, the Chamber’s Annual Spirit Of The Hill dinner was at no risk of torturing you in exchange for support. Breaking Poppy’s usual thali format (see below), Jerry hosted a leisurely champagne reception, followed by a luxurious five-course dinner and paired with wines provided by Van Duzer. Roasted black cod with carrot vinaigrette and cucumber-shiso salad was sweet and buttery. A slice of chanterelle, leek, and chard “lasagne” was a fun play of flavor and texture: the noodles were paper thin and somehow managed to hold together the dramatic layers. The main dish was a succulent lavender-crusted duck breast, served with mushroom marjoram bread pudding, sage-roasted delicata squash, and a lavender sauce. Just the right subtlety on the lavender, too often overdone in lesser hands. The finale: dark chocolate terrine with tender and mild candied ginger, and candied pine nuts.
During dinner, Jerry talked about his travels in India, an exploration of spices building on his encyclopedic command of herbs. This journey, of course, led him to open Poppy, where his fast-becoming-famous thalis showcase these herbs and spices in ten inventive tastes. And Poppy’s sommelier Angela Isaacson spoke about the Van Duzer wines for the event, and also shared tips for pairing wine with food. Chamber Executive Director Jack Hilovsky and Event Chair Jody Laflen finished the evening with a wine raffle and auction, after which happy guests filtered out through the garden, rubbing and smelling the herbs and late-season flowers.
So next year, when you’re sifting through that stack of benefit-dinner invitations, this is one you don’t want to miss.
First Friday Foodie Lunch Club: Green Leaf
If you love treasure hunts, then you have to love Seattle’s International District, where gems lie hidden in unassuming places. Green Leaf Restaurant is one of those places, and when the First Friday Foodie Lunch Club chose them for October, I rushed out to do some reconnaissance work in advance. Multiple times, in fact. Yet by the time fifteen of us foodies arrived for our lunch feast, I was eager for more.
To say Green Leaf has super-fast service, fresh, crisp produce, clean, bright flavors at unbelievable prices (as reviews for decent Vietnamese restaurants inevitably do) would be accurate, but misses what makes them special. It’s the consistent, and obvious care that they take in the kitchen. Fried dishes are crisp and hot, not soggy or oily. Like the Vietnamese pancakes, full of shrimp and creamy with coconut, with edges so crisp they flake apart. The platter of fresh lettuces and herbs and dipping sauce make this one a messy but must-order dish. Grilled dishes have crunch and deep flavor. Even the fresh spring rolls, with lettuce, shrimp, and pork, pack a wonderfully crunchy fried center that elevates this simple appetizer, and also tells you they’re made to order rather wilting in a cooler in huge batches.
Places like this remind me of the origins of much of classical French cuisine. Humble (meaning cheap) ingredients transformed through creative and careful preparation into something amazing. Green Leaf does exactly this with fresh and simple ingredients, inventive twists on Vietnamese classics, and an apparently highly trained and consistent kitchen staff. It’s so good, the tiny bill always shocks me, as if somehow it’s cheating to get so much for so little.
One final bonus: their recent remodel and expansion upstairs added tables and one of the swankest I.D. bathrooms, but mercifully did nothing to diminish the magic.
Dahlia Bakery Happy Hour
Blustery, rainy afternoons should be a bad day for lingering on the sidewalk, unless it’s the premier of Dahlia Bakery’s Happy Hour. Starting today, and continuing 4-6pm every day except Sunday, you can find Molly Melkonian (Bakery manager and cake wizard) or Adrienne Lasko (Dahlia Lounge sous chef) smiling over a table of sweet and savory treats from the Dahlia Bakery. This is no ordinary bake sale.
Despite the weather, commuters rushing for a bus loop back as if caught in a gravity field. Speed walking business suits take one look and abruptly tell their cell phones, “Uh, I’ll call you back in one minute.” People reappear after five minutes for a second (and usually larger) purchase. And here’s why:
Mini crabcakes with a lemongrass mayonnaise for two bucks. Only got a buck? Grab a famous Dahlia coconut cream pie bite. Or try a fresh fried mini doughnut with vanilla mascarpone cream. Maybe a pear tart bite with a hit of caramel sauce. If you’re thirsty, pastry chef Garrett’s amazing house-made ginger ale will fix it.
There’s no limit, and they’ll box to go. And the menu changes daily. But danger lurks: you can pay with plastic, subject only to your will power and credit limit.
Yellow Leaf Cupcake Co.
Next time you find yourself in Belltown with blood sugar levels needing a boost, high-tail it over to The Yellow Leaf Cupcake Co. I know cupcakes are nauseatingly trendy, but for good reason. They’re cake. They’re gorgeous. And you can taste a wide variety and still get up from the table. At Yellow Leaf, they’re also delicious and inventive, so there’s always something new to try.
Take for instance their signature tomato soup cupcake. More like a moist, rich, spice cake with a chocolate cap, co-owner Mike Hein grew up eating a version of this family recipe. For me, the plain vanilla is always a litmus test, and too often tastes like white. Not here, the vanilla sweet flavor is full without cloying. On the opposite end, their “ultimate chocolate” was rich and deep. And for those dining with a social conscious, Yellow Leaf offers a local charity cupcake. Today, a delicious pomegranate-frosted black cherry cupcake was supporting breast cancer research with its proceeds.
On any give day, you should see a dozen or more flavors, which change constantly (their website lists about sixty examples) and include filled versions such as peanut butter and jelly. Stupid me, I didn’t order one that day, so I’ll be going back soon.
Dahlia Lounge Happy Hour
It’s 5:30 on a Tuesday night, and the bar at Dahlia Lounge is already bustling. No lonely happy hour tonight. And good thing, we’re here on the Autumnal Equinox to stave off depressing thoughts of the coming winter darkness. A couple sunny cocktails land, and we can tell the strategy is going to work. The Fresca is a stepped up gin and tonic, spiked with yuzu juice (an Asian citrus) and candied ginger garnish. The Lemon Zester is pink with hibiscus syrup and grapefruit juice, sweet with limoncello, and bubbling with Prosecco. Both are wonderfully balanced, delicious, and refreshing. And a giant Huckleberry-Mint Mojito is deep purple with wild huckleberry syrup, lifted with lemon rum, mint, and lime, and deeply satisfying.
There’s a dozen Kusshi oysters, with bright and not overpowering sesame mignonette. The oysters are dense and flavorful, unexpectedly excellent for the late, hot summer. We shift barstools to squeeze in new arrivals waiting for friends or a table. More food arrives, and it looks gorgeous. Though Dahlia has a new chef, he’s no stranger to the Tom Douglas family. For the past several years, Brock Johnson has been rocking across the street at Lola as chef, and it doesn’t look like either Brock or the Dahlia have missed a beat in the transition.
Now we’re tearing into rich and crispy Kahlua pig, hoisin sweet playing against chili ketchup, richened with a poached egg. A carrot and fresh coconut salad add color and a refreshing crunch between incredibly rich bites. I order an extra one to go. And a bowl of Penn Cove manila clams, with lardons of spicy pork belly and nectarine relish. We’re sopping the broth with torn chunks of grilled bread. And we’re just getting started.
Dahlia potstickers on the menu sound innocuous enough. They’re not. Chewy and crunchy at once, undertones of scallion, a terrific Asian dipping sauce, and the pickled cabbage and radish sprouts are ethereal. The curried vegetable samosas are bubbly and golden, and look like they took ten minutes each to hand braid into drumsticks. The dough shatters like your grandma’s best pie crust in your teeth, the curry seasoning is light, just the right touch. Then there’s the chickpeas. Just a simple-looking pile, until you bite them you’d never suspect their deep, herb-infused flavor that reminds me instantly of Jerry Traunfeld’s herbal artistry. Finally, the Tuscan grilled-bread salad, one of my favorites since the Dahlia opened 20 years ago. Croutons oozing applewood smoke, sweet summer cherry tomatoes, rich prosciutto slices, crunchy radicchio and slivers of hearts of palm, salty olives, and covered in shaved parmigiano-reggiano. Forget about the dark Seattle winter. You can always stop by the Dahlia Lounge for a ready plate of Italian summer.
Seattle Dining
So you’re in Seattle. You’re hungry. And you don’t feel like rolling the dice with your hard-earned dining dollars. No problem. Our handy Seattle Foodies dining guide will hook you up!
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