Tuesday, December 8, 2009

An Eva Restaurant Interpretive Dance

Eva Restaurant and Wine Bar
2227 North 56th St
Seattle, WA 98103
206 633-3538


Eva is a festive, cozy, pretty little restaurant in the Greenlake area. We took advantage of the November Dine Around Seattle deal (3 courses for $30); this included a salad, an entree and a dessert.

 The prawn salad went down fairly easily. Some flavorful Thai-inspired twists kept it interesting: a little lemon grass, basil, and onion.


The beef short rib and chanterelle pot pie (puffy pastry crust with chanterelles, beef short ribs, and vegetables in a broth) looked so pretty as other diners were receiving theirs.  The sight of these little fluffy, pot pies delivered steaming to neighboring tables seduced all three of us. We all ordered one. Here is a fork's eye view of the pie.

I added a little salt and pepper to mine, and that short rib meat morphed into some downright delectable bites. Here's a view of the chantrelles, meat and vegetables on the inside.

SASSY
So, let's get to the sassy part of this adventure. I was with my two girl friends, let's just call one H (for Hestitant) and the other W (for Whatever). It's not that H doesn't approve of my sassy food activities, it's just that she is hesitant about being around when they take place. H didn't think she wanted to be seen with a sassy-er. So, I promised not to sassy anyone on this particular outing.  W didn't care one way or another.

Well, the sassy just happened. I didn't even try. After finishing the main course, I made a little trip to the restrooms, and on the way, I passed a jovial table of five. They were all enjoying their desserts and it just slipped out of my mouth:

"Is that the chocolate torte?"

"Yes," was the response.  "Would you like to try it?"
(it never ceases to amaze and delight me how readily people offer me their food!)

"Sure!" I said, with enthusiasm. And it was all over at that point. I was sassying.

I borrowed a clean fork off their table cloth, and dug right in.  I tasted. And I tasted...the dark chocolate cassis torte with plum caramel... again and again. I tried more than I wanted to try, because Andrea kept offering. So, I kept taking those little bites. It was fine - good, in fact, but I couldn't detect anything in the way of plum caramel or cassis. Sure, that sauce was plum-y. But the cake was the standard, dense, flourless, variety. Nothing I hadn't tasted before...so I didn't get too excited. However, it was nice wedge of chocolate, don't get me wrong.   

"Would you like to sit down?" said the slightly touseled man to her right.

"OK." I said.

So I shared a seat with Rainier (above). He poured me some red wine from their communal bottle, and I drank. 

Two of the men at the table, including Rainier, had accents. I asked where they were from. Playful group that they were, they made me guess. So I played along and hazarded a few - "Denmark," I blurted out first.

"Nope...close," someone said.

Finally, I guessed Germany. Yes, Eckhart was from Germany.

"But Rainier, you have an accent too," I said, as he filled the glass again.

"But I'm from Brooklyn. I'm the Baryshnykov from Brooklyn. I'm an interpretive dancer, " said Rainier. I think he had had already had a few glasses. For all I know he could be an etymologist, or a deep sea diver, or an obstetrician, and just messing with me.

Soon thereafter, a plate of apple cobbler made its way in front of me.


"Here. Try this too. The cinnamon ice cream is amazing!" said Brent, the husband of kind Andrea, who had given me the initial chocolate bite (both above). The two were visiting Seattle from California, and everyone at the table somehow knew Rainier the "dancer."

Well, warm apple crisp is usually pretty good. This one had lots of crumbly brown crunchy topping. The apples were delicate. The ice cream? Yes. It was also good, as Brent said, although I have a cinnamon problem.  I am really not a fan, and it sometimes makes me feel a little queezy, so I'm not the best judge of anything cinnamon flavored.

Rainier kept pouring the red wine.

Finally, they started settling up, so I ambled back to my table and shamefully greeted H and W. H seemed to forgive me, and realized that, at least this time around, my sassying was welcomed and encouraged by strangers at other tables, rather than shunned.She realized that I wasn't harassing people, but rather, the exchange was mutual, and mostly social.

Thanks Rainier, for the wine! Perhaps one day I'll run into you on the L train.
Eva Restaurant on Urbanspoon

2 comments:

Hutch said...

the sassyies just keep following you!

loved this one.

H and W don't know what they were missing.

Leslie E. Young said...

That is the most awesome post. Mostly because you included your daughter in it!!! Awesome video!! The girl has talent!!