Fighting back SAD at Dahlia Lounge.
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.
Dahlia chef Brock Johnson and executive chef Eric Tanaka.
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.
What'll you have?
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.
