I'm a huge supporter of Farmers Markets. The air always buzzes with the best kind of positive calm. Canvas bags in hand, looks of pride on the faces of the folks who actually remembered to bring them out of the house...for once. Seattle has a number of fantastic markets and each of my weeks is filled with anticipation about my Saturdays and Sundays and the occasional seasonal Thursday when I get to chat with my favorite farmers and survey the bounty. I'm a loyalist in all things so my first Farmers Market affection began in Magnolia when my parents and I stumbled onto the row of stalls in the community center parking lot. Looking back on that day we bought two relatively terribly things: a pumpernickle bread that left everything to be desired and a cabernet cheese that was so forgettable, I've forgotten what type of cheese it purported to be. Both were bad yet the experience lifted my spirit and that became the Saturday market that I went to all summer and into the fall until it ended in early November. It was at this market where I made friends with "Buck" the seller for Alvarez farms who shoots plastic bags at the shoppers and shouts about the price of corn and hands out handfuls of organic peanuts for grazers to snack on while picking through the produce.
Buck is a far cry from the typically dreamy, healthy looking farm boys and girls who so romantically sell the image of the farmers market to the yuppy attendees. He is rough around the edges, with a hint of white trash, and defies all definitions of the organic oriented, environmentally conscious types who gladly shell out $4 for a single heirloom tomato. Buck is the new face of the Farmers Market; the exciting possibility that conceptions of organics are reaching beyond the privileged and guilt ladden upper classes. Buck is overweight, Buck has bad teeth, Buck has ugly tattoos of hearts and eagles, Buck flirts shamelessly with everyone, Buck talks fast, Buck is abrassive. Buck is also incredibly knowledgeable about the flavor profiles of each of the twelve or more types of peppers he sells. He has a culinary degree and gives advice on recipes to use for each of the five or more types of potatoes on display. Alvarez farms has provided me produce all summer and fall. And as winter approaches I've found myself growing anxious as their bounty has changed and shrunk. But I've also found that it's making me think about what it means to eat seasonally and I find I'm not compelled to run to the grocery store now that tomatoes are no longer in season.
In fact, I've stopped going to the grocery store all together. At this point there is nothing I can't get at the Farmers Market that I want. And I like the challenge of continuing to eat healthy and responsibly as the seasons change. I have my egg man from Ricksen Farms who planted 40 acres of comfry because he is trying to feed his chickens the most balanced diet that will also produce the most appealing egg flavor. My salmon people at Loki who make sure I have a stock of smoked and pickled salmon every week. Tiny Farms who gave me plums and peaches all summer and then apples through the fall. Tall Grass Bakery makes the most killer hominy bread (actually the same people with the wretched pumpernickle, I learned my lesson once and haven't gotten back on that train since). In addition to my bevy of cheese makers (Washington has fabulous sustainably made cheese), purveyors of pickled things (asparagus, green beans etc.), flower growers and jewelry makers.
The Farmers Market has been my best ally in Seattle. It's where I offset my accumulated guilt for my 9-5 promotion of an industry that is suffocating small farms and small businesses. It has reinforced my interest in supporting those who are invested in sustainability practices the intimacy of food production and the gratification of being one of the few willing to keep dealing in cash on an interpersonal level.
And with that I leave you with this link...(play spot the Coca-Cola) as a little food for thought.
Settling In and Eating Out
A while back, an internal memo written by Starbucks chairman Howard Schultz leaked into the public. In essence he said that Starbucks had lost its way. That's basically how I feel about this blog. I have neglected it after noticing that my last few posts were going a little flat. My writing drifted from a well-crafted, artisan level cup of coffee, to an espresso drafted from an automatic machine. Push a button and the post showed up but without the added level of intimacy; my devotion was diminishing. So I took a break and collected my thoughts. The downtime was not exactly relaxing. Since my last post I made the decision to accept a full time job up here, found an apartment, bought a car and mentally adjusted to the prospect of staying here indefinitely. Throughout this transitional whirlwind I have attempted to determine what my "passion for food" really is about.
Before making the decision to stay here in Seattle I went to great lengths to try to find a way back to the Bay Area. I even cold-contacted the tablehopper. If you are privy to the Bay Area food scene you will agree that this woman has her ear to the ground and knows the ins and outs of the moving and shaking from farm to kitchen and kitchen to table. She sends out a weekly newsletter which I have been loyally reading since about the time she began. She makes herself very accessible to her public and does a service called "Tip Please" where you can write her to get a restaurant recommendation. You say, "I'm planning a birthday for my roommate and ten friends, we need a good sushi spot." She might say "Go to Sushi B (B is for Bistro)". Her only request is that after you go, you hit her back and tell her what you thought. Anyway, I reached out to her in a moment of rock-bottom desperation during which I was trying to rationalize returning to the ever-resplendent Bay Area without an equally legitimate job prospect. This woman is so down to earth and so approachable and considerate it floored me. So for that, and because I just think she and the newsletter are great, I'm going to encourage you to subscribe.
Now, let's talk about food since I think straying from that intention is at the heart of my problems with these recent posts. As you know, I'm a brunch fanatic. Though brunch, as god intended it, ought to be shared among good friends and serve to soothe a mediocre to quite heady hangover. The rub is that until this point I didn't have many friends in Seattle impacting both the likelihood of sharing a meal with friends as well as engaging in the kind of behavior that resulted in a hangover. Thus, not much brunching has really taken place for me. I've had two weekends of friends coupled with two weekends of drinking and the result was my discovery of my new favorite weekend brunch spot. Indeed, I found a place so tasty I actually went twice-- two days in a row. And as I write this I'm still digesting some fantastically tasty Migas compliments of Portage Bay (42nd Ave NE and Roosevelt).
Portage Bay: An open kitchen mingles with the neo-industrial architecture of this cozy little b-fast nook. A wall of south facing floor to ceiling windows looks out on the weather-permitting outdoor dining area. The space feels open and inviting despite the crowds that mingle around the door and entry-way. Located in the University District PB draws a mixed crowd of college students and cross-towners alike. Many arguments can be made for the appeal of this place: the nearly all locally sourced and mostly organic menu, the reasonable prices, or (and this is clearly the only real argument) the "breakfast bar". It's all about the breakfast bar. Running lengthwise along the counter top of the open kitchen, large glass bowls brim with fresh fruit: blackberries, raspberries, huckleberries, lingonberries, strawberries, peaches, pears. As well as butter, whipped cream, and Vermont maple syrup. Many of the dishes on the menu like Bananas Foster French toast with all natural challah bread from Great Harvest Bakery topped with Myer's rum brown sugar caramel sauce and sauteed organic/fair trade bananas come with a trip (or 3 or 7) to the breakfast bar. But don't think they aren't expecting that: the b-fast bar comes with the encouraging reminder "Remember, please take all you want, but eat all you take." If you aren't feeling like a glutton you can incorporate the breakfast bar into a lighter route. I've heard the Chai and organic vanilla soy milk steel cut oatmeal with your choice of toppings from the breakfast bar is quite a hit. If the breakfast bar doesn't serve as enough inspiration, a host of other tasty dishes will likely call your name. Perhaps a Benedict: Spicy black black bean-pancetta cakes, homemade organic cornbread, with our house-smoked tomato and saffron sauce. Or one of their heartwarming hashes: Grilled organic vegetables including red onion, celery, red, yellow and green peppers, red potatoes, sweet potatoes and fresh herbs. Topped with three organic scrambled eggs, all natural whole-wheat toast, and your choice of all-natural corned beef, House smoked wild salmon, chicken-basil sausage, sautéed mushrooms. And if a more traditional omelette suits your fancy perhaps you'd enjoy the not so traditional: Oregon Country Beef flatiron steak omelette folded with St. Andre Triple Cream Brie and topped with a selection of wild and cultivated sautéed mushrooms. Hungry yet?
On my first morning at Portage Bay the sun was almost shining which gives Seattlites the feeling that they ought to dine outdoors. The wait for four of us was only 20ish minutes, during which our appetites built as large beautifully assembled plates of blintzes and pancakes sailed passed us.
My second morning there, the next day, the weather had returned to the ever-typical Seattle funk and the waiting crowd on the sidewalk was large and milled about in the same sweet anticipation that I did. Although informed of a 45 minute wait for Katie and I, we managed to snake two places at the corner bar tucked away by the bathrooms. Though removed from the main dining room, it does have a quaint view of the cold/waiting crowd outside. Three minutes later menus were in our hands and the difficult process of choosing another dish had begun.
Though I love food and love breakfast it's rare for me to feel compelled to try almost everything on the menu. I feel that way about Protage Bay. I could go back daily until I'd tasted the whole business.
They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I'll take it a step further to say good breakfast is the most important meal to have in a city you are trying to call home.
Before making the decision to stay here in Seattle I went to great lengths to try to find a way back to the Bay Area. I even cold-contacted the tablehopper. If you are privy to the Bay Area food scene you will agree that this woman has her ear to the ground and knows the ins and outs of the moving and shaking from farm to kitchen and kitchen to table. She sends out a weekly newsletter which I have been loyally reading since about the time she began. She makes herself very accessible to her public and does a service called "Tip Please" where you can write her to get a restaurant recommendation. You say, "I'm planning a birthday for my roommate and ten friends, we need a good sushi spot." She might say "Go to Sushi B (B is for Bistro)". Her only request is that after you go, you hit her back and tell her what you thought. Anyway, I reached out to her in a moment of rock-bottom desperation during which I was trying to rationalize returning to the ever-resplendent Bay Area without an equally legitimate job prospect. This woman is so down to earth and so approachable and considerate it floored me. So for that, and because I just think she and the newsletter are great, I'm going to encourage you to subscribe.
Now, let's talk about food since I think straying from that intention is at the heart of my problems with these recent posts. As you know, I'm a brunch fanatic. Though brunch, as god intended it, ought to be shared among good friends and serve to soothe a mediocre to quite heady hangover. The rub is that until this point I didn't have many friends in Seattle impacting both the likelihood of sharing a meal with friends as well as engaging in the kind of behavior that resulted in a hangover. Thus, not much brunching has really taken place for me. I've had two weekends of friends coupled with two weekends of drinking and the result was my discovery of my new favorite weekend brunch spot. Indeed, I found a place so tasty I actually went twice-- two days in a row. And as I write this I'm still digesting some fantastically tasty Migas compliments of Portage Bay (42nd Ave NE and Roosevelt).
Portage Bay: An open kitchen mingles with the neo-industrial architecture of this cozy little b-fast nook. A wall of south facing floor to ceiling windows looks out on the weather-permitting outdoor dining area. The space feels open and inviting despite the crowds that mingle around the door and entry-way. Located in the University District PB draws a mixed crowd of college students and cross-towners alike. Many arguments can be made for the appeal of this place: the nearly all locally sourced and mostly organic menu, the reasonable prices, or (and this is clearly the only real argument) the "breakfast bar". It's all about the breakfast bar. Running lengthwise along the counter top of the open kitchen, large glass bowls brim with fresh fruit: blackberries, raspberries, huckleberries, lingonberries, strawberries, peaches, pears. As well as butter, whipped cream, and Vermont maple syrup. Many of the dishes on the menu like Bananas Foster French toast with all natural challah bread from Great Harvest Bakery topped with Myer's rum brown sugar caramel sauce and sauteed organic/fair trade bananas come with a trip (or 3 or 7) to the breakfast bar. But don't think they aren't expecting that: the b-fast bar comes with the encouraging reminder "Remember, please take all you want, but eat all you take." If you aren't feeling like a glutton you can incorporate the breakfast bar into a lighter route. I've heard the Chai and organic vanilla soy milk steel cut oatmeal with your choice of toppings from the breakfast bar is quite a hit. If the breakfast bar doesn't serve as enough inspiration, a host of other tasty dishes will likely call your name. Perhaps a Benedict: Spicy black black bean-pancetta cakes, homemade organic cornbread, with our house-smoked tomato and saffron sauce. Or one of their heartwarming hashes: Grilled organic vegetables including red onion, celery, red, yellow and green peppers, red potatoes, sweet potatoes and fresh herbs. Topped with three organic scrambled eggs, all natural whole-wheat toast, and your choice of all-natural corned beef, House smoked wild salmon, chicken-basil sausage, sautéed mushrooms. And if a more traditional omelette suits your fancy perhaps you'd enjoy the not so traditional: Oregon Country Beef flatiron steak omelette folded with St. Andre Triple Cream Brie and topped with a selection of wild and cultivated sautéed mushrooms. Hungry yet?
On my first morning at Portage Bay the sun was almost shining which gives Seattlites the feeling that they ought to dine outdoors. The wait for four of us was only 20ish minutes, during which our appetites built as large beautifully assembled plates of blintzes and pancakes sailed passed us.
My second morning there, the next day, the weather had returned to the ever-typical Seattle funk and the waiting crowd on the sidewalk was large and milled about in the same sweet anticipation that I did. Although informed of a 45 minute wait for Katie and I, we managed to snake two places at the corner bar tucked away by the bathrooms. Though removed from the main dining room, it does have a quaint view of the cold/waiting crowd outside. Three minutes later menus were in our hands and the difficult process of choosing another dish had begun.
Though I love food and love breakfast it's rare for me to feel compelled to try almost everything on the menu. I feel that way about Protage Bay. I could go back daily until I'd tasted the whole business.
They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I'll take it a step further to say good breakfast is the most important meal to have in a city you are trying to call home.
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