Seattle Foodies : Category events, everything about events

Lemon '11

Sat, 07 May 2011 13:26:00 -0700

Trying times be damned. We foodies know exactly what to do with those life-dealt lemons: make limoncello. But wouldn’t you know it, our happiness has attracted malcontents. Snarky ne’er-do-wells disputing our limoncello. Not made with Italian Sorrento lemons? Not real, they say.

Pish.

Still, after driving them off with balls of squeezed lemon pith, I got to thinking. Could there be room for even more deliciousness? The question has led me to Linda and Bill Zaiser of Rancho Del Sol, growers of organic Italian Sorrento lemons, who will ship cases to Seattle direct from their farm in California. It’s reasonable, and cost comes down with volume.

Which means the answer is nearly in hand because Seattle Foodies Lemon ‘11 is in the works. Here’s how we’ll do it:

A fifth of Everclear and five pounds of lemons (about a dozen) make a batch of about five 500ml bottles of finished limoncello. The lemons cost about $15, including shipping. Grab a sharp peeler and a quart jar, and in no time you’re on your way. Could it be easier? Well, as with every lemon project, there’s a twist: it’s illegal to buy 190-proof hooch in Washington. (So we love our friends who love Portland. Plus, we’ve got a version you can make with the legal 151-proof version.) And I know a great gift-bottle supplier so you don’t have to store it in old coffee cans.

We just need a date, a place to peel, and foodies.

I’ll organize the lemons and a box or two of quart canning jars. You bring your moonshine and favorite sharp peeler (Dana “Scalp ‘em” Spencer recommends the Kyocera ceramic-bladed peelers if you’re in the market). We’ll talk bottles then, since the peels macerate for two weeks. Throw in a lemon-themed potluck and spool up the sorbet machine, and we’ll have it: Lemon ‘Eleven.

Let me know if you’re interested and how many batches you might want to make. And I’ll work on a location and date.

Bunny Hop

Fri, 09 Apr 2010 15:19:00 -0700

To make a bunny hop, you've got to break some eggs.

This is a heady time of year. The sun-warmed soil is bursting with promise, and the thought of all those spring flavors pushing mouth-ward makes me feel like dancing. Problem is, with two left feet (and one usually in my mouth), I’m no dancer.

Apparently, I’m not the first person with that problem. Why else would they have invented the Bunny Hop? Tap your foot, jump gracelessly back and forth, and hang on to someone else for stability. Sounds perfect, except for one thing: there’s no food involved.

So we’re reversing the imbalance on Sunday, May 2nd with Seattle Foodies’ version of the Bunny Hop. Dancing is strictly optional for this culinary plunge into rabbits and eggs, which will lead us through the following wine-paired steps:

rillettes de lapin, spring greens, tarragon mustard, crusty bread

asparagus soup, poached duck egg, pumpernickel

rabbit terrine, crisps, easter egg radishes, pickled baby carrots

wild rabbit ragù, pappardelle, parmigiano reggiano

celery and fennel sorbet intermezzo

rabbit loin, prosciutto, thyme-roasted morels, bay turnip purée, turnip greens

armagnac-braised rabbit, cherries, morello vinegar, almonds

tipsy “peeps,” orange shortbread ganache eggs, lemon “grass”

Of course, we’ll tweak the details to reflect the farmers’ market that week, and select wines with the help of our friends at Pike & Western. (Also note: depending on how many people join, we may need to vote a couple of the above dishes off the island.)

What’s more, we’ll get sharp by organizing a knife skills class on April 25, so we’ll be ready for the new-and-improved prep sessions (this time with “family meals” and wine built in). Check back for the full schedule and detailed plans, and please R.S.V.P. if you’re planning to come (which prep sessions, if any, and how many for dinner). As with all plunges, we’ll divide the cost between diners.

Hope to see you there. But until then, be vewy, vewy quiet . . .

Pig Out At The Palace Kitchen

Thu, 08 Apr 2010 13:52:00 -0700

Q: What could possibly be better than Beer Week?

A: Nothing. Excepting ending Beer Week with a whole roasted pig, and eating it one taco at a time.

I’m talking about the Palace Kitchen’s special lunch on May 22. Think green garlic guacamole, lime crema, pickled red onions, tomatillo salsa, jicama slaw, and handmade tortillas. Oh, and roast pork. And maybe even some beer (or wine, or whatever).

Seattle Foodies is reserving a block of 20 30 seats. We’ll start at noon. Tacos are three bucks each.

So now you know. Just let us know how many seats you’d like, before we run out!

Complete Lovefest! Schedule

Mon, 08 Feb 2010 21:15:00 -0800

Learn how Hank combines lust and chocolate.

Lovefest! is just two weeks away, and we’ve been nailing down the details, schedule, and costs. Adrienne (Dahlia Lounge), Molly (Dahlia Bakery), and Robyn (Tom Douglas Marketing) have generously donated their time and energy as mentors. Seattle Foodie Mitch is letting us invade his gorgeous home. So all that’s left is the fun of learning and doing, eating, and splitting costs ($80 per person for food and alcohol).

So to confirm you’re in, I’ll need four things from you by Tuesday, February 16th:

How many you’ll bring to dinner, including yourself (and names for extra credit)
Which classes/prep sessions you will attend (not required, but you’ll miss the best part
Choose your booze: big pink cocktail, martini (gin or vodka), or some of each
Arrange to pay $80 for each person you’re bringing

Some fine print:

If you’d like something that’s not on the drink menu, feel free to bring it
Since we’re sharing costs, and we’re buying or committing to buy all the food and supplies starting Wednesday, refunds won’t be possible after Tuesday

Final note: if you absolutely don’t eat raw oysters, sushi, caviar, or tartare, please let me know. We’ll trim those back and bulk up the Bacchus Board with extra cheeses, meats, and breads so you won’t go hungry!

Saturday, February 20th

10:00am – Roses for Little Tarts

chocolate tart shells
pinot noir and rose water gelée
candied rose petals

2:00pm – Raising the Bar

martinis & big pink cocktails
fruits and vegetables
hand-made cultured butter
infused oils

4:30pm – Oysters and Oh. My. God.

Adrienne’s oyster class
mignonettes
geoducks (for adults only)

Sunday, February 21st

10:00am – Chocolate & Lust

chocolate class
luster-dusted bars
herb-infused truffles
ganache for tarts

2:00pm – Flesh Pots

tartare & eggs
blini
plin
staging house and dinnerware

4:00pm – Ritual Madness and Ecstasy

Bacchus board
chocolate gift bags

4:59pm – Deep Breath

cue music

Lovefest!

5:00pm – Reception

5:30pm – On the Beach and In the Raw (with Bubbles)

6:45pm – Rich and Seductive

8:00pm – Hide The Children

9:15pm – Better-Than-Sex Dessert

10:30pm – No Regrets Cleanup

There are limited spots available, so don’t wait!

First Annual Lovefest!

Sat, 23 Jan 2010 22:36:00 -0800

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, we’ll all be getting our hopes up for some love. But don’t let the pressure get to you, because no matter what happens on the 14th, you’re definitely gonna score the following weekend. (Cue music: bow chicka bow wow . . .)

Oysters are just the beginning at Lovefest!

It’s Seattle Foodies Lovefest! Pin a big red heart to your calendar on Sunday, February 21st. We’re planning an evening of aphrodisiac-themed foods, including oysters, caviar, champagne, eggs, lurid vegetables, sumptuous fruits, and, of course, chocolate. And in case that’s not sexy enough, we’ll have a swanky martini bar, too. Just like Poultrygeist, the focus will be on participation and learning (and, of course, eating), so we’ll be doing a pre-fest oyster-shucking school plus a mini-version of Garrett’s chocolate class for those who want to limber up.

So get ready for Lovefest! Love in five easy moves:

On the Beach and In the Raw (with Bubbles)

Shigokus (the “ultimate”), Kumamotos, Totten Inlet Virginicas, Olympias
three mignonettes (classic, pink grapefruit & yuzu ice, pickled Meyer lemon)
geoduck sashimi (plus one live, please touch it)
the “Bacchus Board” (if you don’t like it raw)
champagne

Rich and Seductive

three caviars
warm blini, cultured fleur-de-sel butter, crème fraîche
tartare, quail egg
seed-filled breadsticks (twelve inches!)
wet martinis, big pink cocktails

Hide The Children

lurid vegetables
long, cured meats and olives
hard nuts, ripe fruits
pinch me, pork me (pork and chard plin)
luxurious loaves
sensuous butters and oils
seductive wines

Better-Than-Sex Dessert

herb-infused truffles
ganache bars with luster dust
chocolate tarts (yes, of course we’ll use the blow torch!)
banyuls

Morning After, No Regrets

truffles and chocolate bar take-home bags

Specific times, locations, and more menu details are in the works, but let us know if you’re interested in joining us. Show up for the party, or dive in with the advance prep. Either way, we’d love to see you there!

First Friday Foodie Lunch Club: Serious Pie

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 17:13:00 -0800

Lip-smacking house salumi, Walla Walla onions, Sardegna.

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.

We'll have the lot. (Almost.)

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!

Poultrygeist

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 23:51:00 -0700

Reducing a pint of dry sherry with butter and shallots.

It was raining, of course. A day for ducks. And a fitting start for Poultrygeist, our pre-Halloween celebration feast of all things duck. I mean, why do the kids get to have all the treats? The plan was simple: a seven-course, wine-paired dinner for twenty-four people. Add a sorbet intermezzo. Throw in a pumpkin-carving contest with alcohol-based prizes. In case that’s not scary enough, put the whole thing completely in the hands of amateurs. Still not frightened? Create most of the recipes ourselves. And then invite Tom Douglas, his business partner and Executive Chef Eric Tanaka (“E.T.”), his marketing manager Robyn, and several more of his chefs, just to raise the stakes.

Now that sounds like fun. (Or, I need a drink.) But first we’ll need a few groceries. Like five Moulard, two Muscovy, and two Pekin ducks. Eight more pounds of Moulard duck breasts. Five dozen duck eggs. A tub of duck fat. A case of blood oranges. And a couple cases of wine.

Roulades nestled in butter, herbs, and mirepoix.

Although, we started two weeks ago, we dug in Friday afternoon at Bruce’s house to get the roulade out of the way. Meaning “roll,” it’s a time-consuming dish that starts with skinning a couple ducks, boning them out, and grinding, chopping, and stuffing everything in the skin to be poached in a pound of butter and herbs. While that was in the oven, we finished the duck liver paté and turned the two carcasses into a brown duck stock. Not a bad start.

On Saturday we moved the work party to Becky’s home, and with a larger crew, the real heavy lifting began. Holly dove into a “ripening” tray of duck fat to retrieve our previously made confit legs, and working the wings into rillettes. Jordan took on the blistering work of cleaning out twenty sugar pie pumpkins. Becky made, broke, fixed, broke, fixed, and again broke a lemon ginger duck-fat mayonnaise before we decided to trim that unstable emulsion from the menu. We took a well-deserved “family meal” break to devour Trina’s salmon frittata and some duck sliders Bruce made from the leftover roulade stuffing.

A platoon of duck sliders. At ease, soldiers.

Back at the grinder, Dana transformed the Moulard breasts into fifty sliders (mini burgers). Trina made cherry jam, perfected her blood orange martini, and finished Chuck’s Asian plum sauce with homemade blood orange marmalade to pair with the ducks Bruce was packing with spices and more blood oranges for roasting Sunday. Most of the sauces, garnishes, and dressings made, or nearly completed. Fresh pasta mixed and resting in the fridge. Shallot rings and sage leaves fried in duck fat. Cracklings crisped. Cranberry, blood orange, thyme sorbet frozen. To finish the day, pear sabayon, spiced pears, and duck brittle.

Sunday was the final push. Ducks on the rotisserie. Breasts seared off and sliced. Beans for the roulade simmered with the brown stock, and the resulting broth reduced all the way down to finish a mustard sauce. Confit jelly coins. Twenty-five duck egg yolk raviolos. Menus printed, house decorated. Wine pairings ready (by maniacal foodie Kyle at Pike and Western). And everything portioned and ready for service, just in time for guests to begin arriving.

So how did it turn out? Click on the photos to start the slide show, and see for yourself.

(Huge thanks to Bruce for providing many of the photos.)

Be Very Afraid

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 12:45:00 -0700

Poultrygeist is almost here!

When Chuck’s chickens stage a haunted coop, you know Poultrygeist is so close it’s scary.

The mayhem will continue at Becky’s this Sunday, with our day of mise Saturday. Can’t think of a costume idea? An apron or chef’s hat will do. Or follow my example and wear a body-sized bib.

Here’s how it’s shaping up (costumes not required):

reception: five-spice duck lettuce wraps, cilantro, plum sauce, sechuan pepper salt
scary sugar pie pumpkin carving contest (categories: creative, scary, fun, elaborate, duck)
duck roulade, cannellini beans, brown mustard sauce
three preserves: crisped confit, rillettes, paté, toasts, greens, warm duck vinaigrette
duck-egg raviolo, lemon sage butter, magret prosciutto, fried sage leaves
sorbet (cranberry, blood orange, thyme)
duck meatball sliders (2 sauces, sweet pickle chips)
seared duck breast, red wine reduction, kale (duck cracklins), duck-finished thyme potatoes
sabayon, pear, duck brittle
pumpkin-carving awards – bottles of arancello (limoncello’s orange cousin)
take-home bags (prosciutto, duck fat, confit)

See you there!

Ducks Redux Shifts Poultrygeist Into High Gear

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 23:31:00 -0700

Nearly nine-pound whoppers: Moulard ducks.

Two weeks away from our First Annual Poultrygeist and we’re ready to get some advance mise out of the way. Also, it’s perfect timing to replay the previous day’s lessons from Rover’s Duck 101 class. Hosted by Bruce and Dana in their amazing indoor/outdoor kitchens, we tackled five honkin’ honkers: Hudson Valley Moulard ducks bought from restaurant supplier Select Gourmet Foods, meat supplier to the stars (such as Tom Douglas Restaurants and Rover’s). Lucky for us, Select Gourmet now has a retail outlet in Kenmore.

Being veteran Tom Douglas Summer Campers, we eased into the workday with a glass of Prosecco, followed Bruce’s terrific chili, topped with an egg poached perfectly by his immersion circulator, with corn-meal focaccia on the side.

Seattle Foodies love play time.

Then we broke down our five HUGE ducks. Moulards are such amazing creatures. Thick, gorgeous layers of fat, and deep, rich, meat, with mile-long breasts. We set aside three breasts for prosciutto, which is sacrilege according to The Chef In The Hat (he refuses to “waste” prime Moulard breasts on charcuterie). But heck, we’re worth it. Crime or no, we packed them in a pan of kosher salt for an overnight cure, then to be rinsed, dried, and dusted with white pepper and juniper berries before hanging in Chuck’s cellar. The other seven breasts were trimmed, scored, skin partially rendered, and packed in shallot, thyme, bay leaves, garlic, and cracked pepper, to be held in vacuum-sealed bags in Becky’s freezer, ready for finishing.

With the group suddenly hankering for a snack, Bruce came to the rescue with short ribs cooked sous vide (his immersion circulator again), and finished on the grill. I had picked up a pound of matsutake mushrooms at the Pike Place Market that morning, so he sliced and sauteed those for bedding (for the short ribs, not Bruce). A pan sauce, a little lemon and soy to finish, and some red wine for the glass. Amazing. So I ate two.

Bruce loads his culinary canon.

Right. Ducks. We cured ten duck legs and wings in bay, garlic, orange zest, thyme, and kosher salt. To make the confit, they’ll be gently poached in duck fat Tuesday for eight to ten hours, and then will ripen, packed in the fat until Poultrygeist. Speaking of fat, in addition to the 7.5-pound tub we bought, rendering down the fat from all five ducks will yield about ten pounds more (or about 2.5 gallons total). With so much of everything, there should be confit and duck fat souvenirs, as well as prosciutto to take home after the event.

And then there’s the swimming pool of duck stock made from the five roasted carcasses and mirepoix. Dana will reduce that down to a thick glace Monday.

But back to the food. Bruce fired up his pizza oven, with fennel seed crust, chanterelles, pork belly, and a whole host of terrific cheeses from the farmer’s market. Plus a few bottles of great red. And Trina made orange martinis with the juice from the zested oranges.

No Becky, that's not your cocktail. Trina's making arancello.

Speaking of oranges and alcohol, Trina sacrificed her last bottle of Everclear, and we zested eight oranges for a batch of arancello (limoncello’s cousin). Bottles will serve as prizes for the scary sugar pie pumpkin carving contest. Judging categories will likely be: creative, scary, fun, elaborate, and duck. There will be a fifteen-minute carving limit, and other rules to be announced soon, but get those wheels turning. There’s arancello at stake.

Somewhere in there we had a repeat of the chili and egg marvel. And since we were still feeling peckish, we made thyme and rosemary-scented fingerling potatoes, which were crispy finished in duck fat. But always quick to raise the bar, Bruce topped them with amazing hickory smoked Mangalitsa jowl bacon, and still more poached eggs.

So you can see the day proceeded with laser-like focus. We even got some advance planning in for Poultrygeist, and I’ll post details as we get them organized.

26th Annual Feast At The Market

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 18:38:00 -0700

A beautiful night for a feast.

On a warm fall evening, 460 diners at the sold-out 26th Annual Feast at the Market embarked a three-hour tour. To benefit Neighborcare Health’s Pike Market Medical Clinic and their mission to provide health care for uninsured patients, our mission was equally challenging: dine at nineteen Pike Place Market restaurants, and still have room for coffee and chocolates afterward.

The approach? Stay focused. And have a viable plan of attack. Fortunately, Neighborcare provided a map with participating restaurants numbered and grouped by location. So, meal-ticket booklet in hand, diners hit Pike Place Market’s historic bricks. I decided to do the restaurants in reverse order.

Four hundred sushi rolls and still smiling.

It wasn’t easy. Honey-scented smoked black cod with fennel chowder at Etta’s. Yam soup with king crab salad at Cutters Bayhouse. Beef Bourguignon with chanterelles at the Virginia Inn. Then a buffet at Kell’s (shepherd’s pie, sausage rolls). Another buffet at The Pink Door (salumi, grilled vegetables, seafood salad, Tuscan beans and tuna, and more). Uncle? Not yet. The Tasting Room is serving wine tastes, a welcome reprieve, but step lively. Thirteen more.

It was fun to watch the ebb and flow of diners. Now a place was swamped, now empty: the coffee-shop phenomenon in action. And the restaurant staff took it all in graceful stride. In addition to the food, it was terrific to visit so many places in the Market, especially new ones (like Thoa’s) and others you’ve been meaning to try but haven’t found the time. Here’s the full lineup:

Nineteen restaurants in three hours. Ready. Aim. Eat!

But in three hours? You did wear comfortable shoes, didn’t you? Of course, most people didn’t worry about hitting every single place. With so much food, it wasn’t necessary. Far better to let your whims guide you, and savor the unique atmosphere of the Pike Place Market.

For example, after the food, my favorite thing is how vendors at the Market behave as if they were your big, extended family. When dashing into a place for a quick photo (I honestly didn’t have time, or the belly space, to eat at every place), a host, server, or kitchen staff would inevitably and gently implore, “Just a photo? Come on. Sit down for just two minutes and eat.” And their hospitality worked more than once. It was an expansive evening in every way. Even parking was included.

My only concern is this: if the public health insurance option passes, can there still be a feast next year?