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!
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.
First Friday Foodie Lunch Club: Lunchbox Laboratory
Ah, delicious, languid Friday afternoons. A late-summer day, warmed by sun streaming through an open window, and pinned down by a humongous, monster burger in your belly. What a beautiful beginning for the Foodies First Friday Lunch Club. Starting today, and every first Friday of the month until the Sun burns out, Tom Douglas Summer Campers are reconnecting to share the previous month’s food exploits and, of course, to eat.
For our inaugural feast, nearly 20 of us “clubbed” the good folks at Lunchbox Laboratory, where we gorged on their burger creations using beef, lamb, buffalo, prime rib, even a duck and pork combo (“dork”), piled with 10-15 daily cheeses, bacon, and other reach-for-the-sky ingredients. Check the menu on their seizure-inducing website for advance build-your-own strategery, or just show up and choose from the innovative daily specials board. Make sure you bring enough friends to order all the sides (onion rings, skinny fries, sweet-potato fries, tater tots) and their assortment of specialty salts (smoked Asian salt, rosemary sea salt, and more) and sauces. And don’t miss their best-in-the-business milk shakes (served in lab beakers, of course). The hardest part of eating at the Lab is choosing, but don’t worry: there’s usually enough of a line to give you time to peruse all the options.
Shown above, the only burger said to be visible from space: my lamb and bacon Frankenstein. And what’s that in the background? The camera caught fellow foodie Bruce in the act of forking his dork! (Personally, I prefer to use my hands.)
