Wow. Really? I haven't written since I left Portland? I guess I have been focusing on things not food based this summer. That's not a bad thing, but it does make me wonder if Portland really did manage to sate something deep and heretofore hungry within me. Surely I haven't really had enough charcuterie to last a lifetime?
No. I absolutely have not.
It's not that I have no thoughts on food in Spokane this summer. It's just that none of them seemed big enough to fill an entire blog post. For example, I have thoughts about the infamous "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives with Guy Fieri" episode filmed in Spokane this summer. I think that Picabu is a perfectly pleasant restaurant, but that their fire pasta is a strange dish, muddy in its flavors and intentions, and not worthy of television fame. I think that there is some food worth talking about at The Elk, but that their reuben is not any of it. I prefer both The Viking and Hills' contribution to the genre far more, and nothing, nothing reuben-like can compare to Kenny and Zuke's in Portland, largely because their pastrami is such a wonderful, fatty, salty, smokey revelation. Were I to tackle The Elk, which I will, I think I would focus on their blackened chicken quesadilla. I really must figure out how they make that onion dipping sauce, which I want to lick out of the bowl when I run out of quesadilla. Waddell's is a pleasant surprise, even though I am as a general rule turned off by restaurants whose marketing strategy is based on excess: excess food, excess ingredients, excess calories. The "Lamb-strosity"? Pastrami on a burger? Also, I have no idea what "tasty bits" are, nor why they are on my hamburger. I'll take the slightly more refined burger at Luna any day, but Waddell's is good when something more casual is called for.
I learned that I need never eat at Winger Bros in the valley again, even if it is conveniently located near a kayaking take-out. I learned that Spokane has a little baby food truck pod in downtown, now that Mamma G's has joined the taco truck. I also learned that I don't want grilled cheese on a day over 85 degrees, no matter how gourmet it is. I learned that peaches can live on a savory pizza without being an abomination (thanks, Perry Street!), but that I will still order their prosciutto any day. I'm a sucker for arugula on pizza, or anywhere else.
But the last few weeks haven't really been about learning or thoughts for me. They have been about tomatoes (at least food-wise. There's been a lot going on that has not been food related). I thought the cold spring and late summer would kill any chances that we would get a good harvest, but I was wrong. My plants produced a ton of fruit, and the late heat has given them a chance to ripen. There is nothing better than a real, garden grown, vine-ripened tomato. I won't repeat the endless recipes on-line talking about how to turn them into soup, pasta sauce, etc. As soon as you cook them, they are lessened (although I do occasionally toss them with pasta. There is some residual heat involved. But that is the absolute limit.) I recommend eating them with a little salt. Maybe some basil and mozzarella, but only if you can find bufala or barrata. Otherwise, it isn't worth it.
Or, you could make your own mayonnaise. Like ricotta, home-made mayonnaise bears almost no relationship to its store-bought brethen. It manages to be both lighter and richer at the same time. It never morphs into unsavory goo when overused. Best of all, it has a wonderful, heady, subtle flavor. It is also remarkably easy to make with a food processor. I actually use an Italian recipe instead of a traditional French one; the main difference is that my recipe uses a whole egg instead of the standard egg yolks. It lightens the final product just a bit, and I prefer the consistency. Here's how you do it:
Crack one egg into the bowl of a small food processor (or the small bowl of a large one). Add a tsp of dijon mustard, 1/8 tsp salt, and a pinch of cayenne. Turn the machine on while you mix 1/2 cup canola oil (or any other neutral tasting vegetable oil) and 1/4 cup really good quality olive oil. This is a place to bust out the Columela, or any other fruity, slightly bitter olive oil. While the machine is still running, start dribbling in the oil. All the recipes say "drops," but a thin stream works fine. Start really thin, and then, after you hit the halfway mark, you can add it faster. Enjoy the heady aroma. I swear, I've nearly passed out from how good it smells a couple of times (then again, I really like my olive oil). At the end, add a tbls of lemon juice, and then stop the machine and taste for salt. You'll know when it is right.
Eat with tomatoes. Or on bread. Or off a spoon.
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