Click on the Youtube link to see Elaine doing what we do, sort of....
Note: We are not affiliated in any way with the Israel Medical Emergency Service, which is advertised at the beginning of this clip. Please be patient...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gepNBBfurS0
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Serafina Osteria & Enoteca
Serafina Osteria & Enoteca
2043 Eastlake Ave East
Seattle, WA 98102
206.323.0807
http://www.serafinaseattle.com/
Sassy R had to try the calamari at Serafina after hearing how good they were from the guy at the Waterfront. It was around 9 p.m. after a long day's work. Sassy R met her "friend" in the lovely arbored back patio lit with white lights. It's a hidden garden paradise right off of busy Eastlake.
We ordered calamari, of course, with two campari and soda drinks on ice, and the oh-so-satisfying "plin" - one of my true loves. I fantasize about the plin at Serafina just a little too much. See, Sassy T and I had them last week, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about them since. They are delicate little handmade stuffed pasta pockets (angolotti), filled with braised pork shoulder, savoy cabbage and Reggiano. They are approximately the size of a small walnut. Smooth, rich, robust pasta with some umph, some texture, some chew - like your Italian or Eastern European grandma would make. These lovely little darlings are arranged in a shallow bowl in elegent butter chive sauce and can be ordered as an appetizer (small bowl, but plenty) or entree (big ol' bowl). The butter sauce is abundance and lovely for bread dipping. But the plin...oh the little plin. It is hard to eat these things slowly. They are so damned satisfying.
But this post was about the calamari. The calamari? Also good. Unlike calamari almost everywhere else in this town and on most appetizer menus in the US, these are sauteed, not deep fried. Garlic. Bread crumbs. Lemon. Salt. Parsley. A little red chili flakes. None of that overly chewy previously frozen texture. No fishy stench. Pretty great. Best in town? Not hard to accomplish, so yes, perche non?
2043 Eastlake Ave East
Seattle, WA 98102
206.323.0807
http://www.serafinaseattle.com/
Sassy R had to try the calamari at Serafina after hearing how good they were from the guy at the Waterfront. It was around 9 p.m. after a long day's work. Sassy R met her "friend" in the lovely arbored back patio lit with white lights. It's a hidden garden paradise right off of busy Eastlake.
We ordered calamari, of course, with two campari and soda drinks on ice, and the oh-so-satisfying "plin" - one of my true loves. I fantasize about the plin at Serafina just a little too much. See, Sassy T and I had them last week, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about them since. They are delicate little handmade stuffed pasta pockets (angolotti), filled with braised pork shoulder, savoy cabbage and Reggiano. They are approximately the size of a small walnut. Smooth, rich, robust pasta with some umph, some texture, some chew - like your Italian or Eastern European grandma would make. These lovely little darlings are arranged in a shallow bowl in elegent butter chive sauce and can be ordered as an appetizer (small bowl, but plenty) or entree (big ol' bowl). The butter sauce is abundance and lovely for bread dipping. But the plin...oh the little plin. It is hard to eat these things slowly. They are so damned satisfying.
But this post was about the calamari. The calamari? Also good. Unlike calamari almost everywhere else in this town and on most appetizer menus in the US, these are sauteed, not deep fried. Garlic. Bread crumbs. Lemon. Salt. Parsley. A little red chili flakes. None of that overly chewy previously frozen texture. No fishy stench. Pretty great. Best in town? Not hard to accomplish, so yes, perche non?
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The Waterfront Seafood Grill
Waterfront Seafood Grill
206.956.9171
2801 Alaskan Way, Pier 70
Seattle, WA 98121
http://www.waterfrontpier70.com/waterfrontpier70/
Yeah, so it started out with a strong desire for Kumomoto oysters on the half shell. Seattle has been sunnier than usual the last few days, and these two sassy ladies knew that the view, service, drinks and the oysters at the Waterfront are pretty hard to beat. Super fresh oysters...super sweet views from the patio of Puget Sound. You pay a hefty price for that view and have to sit amongst the conventionally beautiful and botoxed (women and men), a sea of $350 sunglasses and brand new never-been-worn-before business casual attire, and some older folks on vacation from the midwest and Florida, but it's probably worth it once or maybe twice a year (the number of days outdoor seating in Seattle is even an option!).
The oysters were beautiful. Sweet, fresh, slippery, fresh and ocean-y. I like to squeeze just a little lemon juice on mine, then slide it into my mouth straight from the shell. Sassy T does the same. Puget Sounds smells salty sometimes in the summer sun, which was a nice complement to the oysters. Glass of dry white. View of the Olympics, the water. Doesn't get better.
It started with oysters but moved quickly into ruby beet and arugula salad, tuna tempura, ceasar salad, and chevre potatoes gratin. Of course, when the four guys discussing friendlyfavor.com, some kind of new website, ordered calamari, we eyed their plate. Looked good. Sassy R asked for a bite. One of the boys, ahem, men, immediately issued the disclaimer that it was not as good as Serafina's calamari. I hadn't realized that Serafina was famous for its calamari. He said this was too greasy. It was. Deepfried, batter dipped. Not great. Some guy ordered a plate of calamari behind us later and the whole patio stank of rotten fish for several minutes until the steam stopped floating off the little tentacles. Well, the calamari was fairly standard and not at all worth its price. Oh well.
The highlight of the evening (second to the oysters) was the strawberry rhubarb tart. Rustic crust folded artfully around the perimeter, covering the filling...with a small gentle soft opening in the middle sprinkled with streusel in the center. It wasn't too sweet, and was oven-warmed just enough... and it was served with delicate homemade vanilla ice cream. Perfect. Our calamari neighbors eyed it and commented. One guy stood up and came over to our table. He wanted some. We gave him a clean spoon. He took a bit. Then he ate more. We chatted. We chatted about their start up, how to find investors, where he grew up (Seattle). He was handsome and in his early 40's. He was charming. He was polite. He had another bite. We paid our bill and before our luscious green-eyed server could take away the wedge of tart we hadn't finished, we passed the picked-apart leftovers over to our friends' table. They even accepted our bowl of melted ice cream and thanked us. They ate it! Testiment to how fabulous this dessert really is.
206.956.9171
2801 Alaskan Way, Pier 70
Seattle, WA 98121
http://www.waterfrontpier70.com/waterfrontpier70/
Yeah, so it started out with a strong desire for Kumomoto oysters on the half shell. Seattle has been sunnier than usual the last few days, and these two sassy ladies knew that the view, service, drinks and the oysters at the Waterfront are pretty hard to beat. Super fresh oysters...super sweet views from the patio of Puget Sound. You pay a hefty price for that view and have to sit amongst the conventionally beautiful and botoxed (women and men), a sea of $350 sunglasses and brand new never-been-worn-before business casual attire, and some older folks on vacation from the midwest and Florida, but it's probably worth it once or maybe twice a year (the number of days outdoor seating in Seattle is even an option!).
The oysters were beautiful. Sweet, fresh, slippery, fresh and ocean-y. I like to squeeze just a little lemon juice on mine, then slide it into my mouth straight from the shell. Sassy T does the same. Puget Sounds smells salty sometimes in the summer sun, which was a nice complement to the oysters. Glass of dry white. View of the Olympics, the water. Doesn't get better.
It started with oysters but moved quickly into ruby beet and arugula salad, tuna tempura, ceasar salad, and chevre potatoes gratin. Of course, when the four guys discussing friendlyfavor.com, some kind of new website, ordered calamari, we eyed their plate. Looked good. Sassy R asked for a bite. One of the boys, ahem, men, immediately issued the disclaimer that it was not as good as Serafina's calamari. I hadn't realized that Serafina was famous for its calamari. He said this was too greasy. It was. Deepfried, batter dipped. Not great. Some guy ordered a plate of calamari behind us later and the whole patio stank of rotten fish for several minutes until the steam stopped floating off the little tentacles. Well, the calamari was fairly standard and not at all worth its price. Oh well.
The highlight of the evening (second to the oysters) was the strawberry rhubarb tart. Rustic crust folded artfully around the perimeter, covering the filling...with a small gentle soft opening in the middle sprinkled with streusel in the center. It wasn't too sweet, and was oven-warmed just enough... and it was served with delicate homemade vanilla ice cream. Perfect. Our calamari neighbors eyed it and commented. One guy stood up and came over to our table. He wanted some. We gave him a clean spoon. He took a bit. Then he ate more. We chatted. We chatted about their start up, how to find investors, where he grew up (Seattle). He was handsome and in his early 40's. He was charming. He was polite. He had another bite. We paid our bill and before our luscious green-eyed server could take away the wedge of tart we hadn't finished, we passed the picked-apart leftovers over to our friends' table. They even accepted our bowl of melted ice cream and thanked us. They ate it! Testiment to how fabulous this dessert really is.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Serious Pie - A Tom Douglas Pizza Restaurant
Serious Pie
316 Virginia St.
Downtown/Belltown
Monday-Saturday, 11:00am-11:00pm
Sunday, 4:00-10:00 pm
No reservations Phone: (206) 838-7388
Take out available [including beer and wine!]
There were three of us, two sassy she-critics and one well-heeled, discerning uber-metro sexual. The metro man had confessed that Tom Douglas’ pizza almost made him cry – it was that good. We had never heard of a man crying over food so naturally we had to witness this spectacle. Plus, this was the perfect venue to experiment with our new endeavor – tasting other people’s fancy ass food (schmancy pizza in this case) - an attempt not only to exchange conversation and interact with humans in a restaurant, but also to eat beyond our monetary means.
The tables at Serious Pie are long, high and family style, with dark leather padded bar seats and candles. The lighting is more or less perfect: low and reddish. Everyone looks good in this light...almost like a tinted mirror. No, we were not all dressed up, or showing any cleavage. But here, we thought, was the perfect opportunity to get to know our table neighbors and taste a few of their appetizers.
Nobody could have prepared us for what transpired. Call it the power of visualization, the power of sassy…? The two sassies went in wanting to "create community at the table. " To say we ended up satisfied and satiated by way of our dinner selection as well as that of our table mates’ dinner selections and wine, is an understatement.
So how did all of this happen? One sassy critic had to go to market so she was a bit late for this outing. The other sassy critic, call her sassy T, arrived around 7:20ish to meet said metro – the one who wept tears of joy over his last Tom Douglas pizza and didn’t have to think twice about accepting our invitation to dine here. So metro, yet so sure of himself [or just jonesing for more pizza]. He insisted on guiding me [sassy T] through the menu. He even took it upon himself to order for me while we were waiting for the second sassy to show. How completely unnecessary. Before I even had a chance to return the server's salutations, metro didn't waste any time and ordered two mozzarella di bufalo, san marzano tomato pizzas, one fig, walnut and rossini bleu salad with rosemary foccacia and one pear Izze soda. I was able to order my drink at least: one pomegranate Izze soda. Why two of the same pizzas? Well, no one said he was a seasoned metro. Perhaps he was just too excited about being back in his own pizza-flavored garden of Eden. I must say it was cute how he offered to guide me through the menu. Adorable.
Then there were three of us, which was good because the food came just as the second sassy critic arrived. According to metro man, the pizza wasn’t the usual out-of-this-world-make-grown-men-weep affair. However,you can argue that Serious Pie is some of the best pizza in Seattle. The crust was perfect. Seasoned just right, not too thick, not too thin or soggy or chewy. Perfect as perfect can be for a pizza crust. The tomato sauce had a tinge of sweetness, but didn’t overpower the other ingredients. The buffalo mozzarella was so nice …not the congealed silly putty that most places try to pass off as mozzarella.
The sassy who went to market does not, as a practice, eat cow's milk products. This also means she does not dream of finding the perfect pie as metro dude and sassy T often do. However, she is not above tasting prized pizza, whipped cream on desserts, really good chocolate mousse (you get the idea). Duty called and she sampled the pie regardless of her dairy-eating habits. The experience of a serious slice of bufalo mozzarella did not temp her to convert back to the other side. Sassy T liked it though. Didn't looove it, but would definitely go back for more. This Serious Pie outing was not life changing. No one wept. Of course, it would have helped if we tried more than one kind of pizza. We could have ordered more, but the two pies were quite filling for two (and one sampler).
The lusciuos figs with rosemary foccacia, walnuts and rossini bleu cheese was an excellent start. Appetizer portions here are not huge, thankfully, yet they're just big enough for two people to share. The roasted seckel pear, prosciutto, and pecorino de remo did not impress unfortunately. It was the only true disappointment of the evening. The prosciutto was thinly sliced and piled in up in a blob between two lovely little roasted pears. Sassy 2 ate the pears happily. The prosciutto, on the other hand, was chewy and fibrous. Are they getting this from somewhere inside Washington state? Can you even do that with prosciutto? I must say that prosciutto in Seattle has been disappointing in general. Not sure what's going on, but there seems to be a dearth of high quality Italian pork products here.
Anyway, this dinner was more about accomplishing our above stated goal: eating other people's fancy ass food. Ultimately it wasn’t only about what we ate, but the circumstances surrounding the consumption (and the bill). The group of six who sat down soon next to us asked how the pizza was and we immediately offered them a slice. They politely declined as is the custom in this Protestant-dominated, tech-addicted, workaholic, no-fun society we inhabit. We hoped that they would give us a tiny taste when their appetizers arrived and sassy critic one overtly complimented and ogled their appetizers - particularly the fresh figs with walnuts. They offered and she tasted. What else do you do when you taste a stranger’s food? Start talking.
Next thing you know, the group's leader [aka the guy with the company's credit card] at the table, feeling the sense of power and liberation you can only get from putting a corporate expense account to good use, offered us some wine. "White or red," he said. Sassy one said "white," and Sassy T said "red." Corp. Manager turned to the waitress (attractive red pigtailed hair, subtle nose ring and high cheek bones) and said "I don’t care I have an expense account. One of each…" You might think he was abusing the privilege of a corporate account. But no, he was simply inspired by the magic of near-perfect pizza, wine and fresh figs. Perhaps our initial offer of the mozzarella di bufala must have sparked his generosity. Plus, he doesn't live in Seattle, so talking to people face to face doesn't feel like being a contestant on Fear Factor for him. Sitting at the same table may have helped. Might as well throw in the moon phase too, which, if I'm not mistaken, was waxing crescent. [http://stardate.org/nightsky/moon/]
They offered appetizers, we offered pizza, they shared wine, we gave our desserts [chocolate cannoli and pear tart - the cannoli was the better of the two, the pear tart lacked flavor]. Just as importantly shared conversation. Yes, we had a conversation. Turns out corporate manager was born in the same town as sassy T [same hospital too] somewhere east of here. He also hung out at the same bar where she worked as a bartender. A little hole-in-the-wall just blocks from their alma mater. Although neither recognized the other, both knew that sassy T - before she was sassy T and he was white collar wonder boy with a corporate account - poured him many mugs of beer. Maybe even his first mug of beer? Maybe she signed his mug club card? Congratulated him and sent him on his way? Who knows? It doesn't matter.
What mattered that night at Serious Pie was that strangers sitting at the same table began to talk, that pretty good food brought good people together, that people weren't too busy, tired, timid, self-interested to spend their time [and share their wine] with each other, that a man with a corporate account wasn't afraid to use it. We exchanged emails and business cards, but we'll probably never see or hear from each other again. That's okay. That one night was all we needed.
316 Virginia St.
Downtown/Belltown
Monday-Saturday, 11:00am-11:00pm
Sunday, 4:00-10:00 pm
No reservations Phone: (206) 838-7388
Take out available [including beer and wine!]
There were three of us, two sassy she-critics and one well-heeled, discerning uber-metro sexual. The metro man had confessed that Tom Douglas’ pizza almost made him cry – it was that good. We had never heard of a man crying over food so naturally we had to witness this spectacle. Plus, this was the perfect venue to experiment with our new endeavor – tasting other people’s fancy ass food (schmancy pizza in this case) - an attempt not only to exchange conversation and interact with humans in a restaurant, but also to eat beyond our monetary means.
The tables at Serious Pie are long, high and family style, with dark leather padded bar seats and candles. The lighting is more or less perfect: low and reddish. Everyone looks good in this light...almost like a tinted mirror. No, we were not all dressed up, or showing any cleavage. But here, we thought, was the perfect opportunity to get to know our table neighbors and taste a few of their appetizers.
Nobody could have prepared us for what transpired. Call it the power of visualization, the power of sassy…? The two sassies went in wanting to "create community at the table. " To say we ended up satisfied and satiated by way of our dinner selection as well as that of our table mates’ dinner selections and wine, is an understatement.
So how did all of this happen? One sassy critic had to go to market so she was a bit late for this outing. The other sassy critic, call her sassy T, arrived around 7:20ish to meet said metro – the one who wept tears of joy over his last Tom Douglas pizza and didn’t have to think twice about accepting our invitation to dine here. So metro, yet so sure of himself [or just jonesing for more pizza]. He insisted on guiding me [sassy T] through the menu. He even took it upon himself to order for me while we were waiting for the second sassy to show. How completely unnecessary. Before I even had a chance to return the server's salutations, metro didn't waste any time and ordered two mozzarella di bufalo, san marzano tomato pizzas, one fig, walnut and rossini bleu salad with rosemary foccacia and one pear Izze soda. I was able to order my drink at least: one pomegranate Izze soda. Why two of the same pizzas? Well, no one said he was a seasoned metro. Perhaps he was just too excited about being back in his own pizza-flavored garden of Eden. I must say it was cute how he offered to guide me through the menu. Adorable.
Then there were three of us, which was good because the food came just as the second sassy critic arrived. According to metro man, the pizza wasn’t the usual out-of-this-world-make-grown-men-weep affair. However,you can argue that Serious Pie is some of the best pizza in Seattle. The crust was perfect. Seasoned just right, not too thick, not too thin or soggy or chewy. Perfect as perfect can be for a pizza crust. The tomato sauce had a tinge of sweetness, but didn’t overpower the other ingredients. The buffalo mozzarella was so nice …not the congealed silly putty that most places try to pass off as mozzarella.
The sassy who went to market does not, as a practice, eat cow's milk products. This also means she does not dream of finding the perfect pie as metro dude and sassy T often do. However, she is not above tasting prized pizza, whipped cream on desserts, really good chocolate mousse (you get the idea). Duty called and she sampled the pie regardless of her dairy-eating habits. The experience of a serious slice of bufalo mozzarella did not temp her to convert back to the other side. Sassy T liked it though. Didn't looove it, but would definitely go back for more. This Serious Pie outing was not life changing. No one wept. Of course, it would have helped if we tried more than one kind of pizza. We could have ordered more, but the two pies were quite filling for two (and one sampler).
The lusciuos figs with rosemary foccacia, walnuts and rossini bleu cheese was an excellent start. Appetizer portions here are not huge, thankfully, yet they're just big enough for two people to share. The roasted seckel pear, prosciutto, and pecorino de remo did not impress unfortunately. It was the only true disappointment of the evening. The prosciutto was thinly sliced and piled in up in a blob between two lovely little roasted pears. Sassy 2 ate the pears happily. The prosciutto, on the other hand, was chewy and fibrous. Are they getting this from somewhere inside Washington state? Can you even do that with prosciutto? I must say that prosciutto in Seattle has been disappointing in general. Not sure what's going on, but there seems to be a dearth of high quality Italian pork products here.
Anyway, this dinner was more about accomplishing our above stated goal: eating other people's fancy ass food. Ultimately it wasn’t only about what we ate, but the circumstances surrounding the consumption (and the bill). The group of six who sat down soon next to us asked how the pizza was and we immediately offered them a slice. They politely declined as is the custom in this Protestant-dominated, tech-addicted, workaholic, no-fun society we inhabit. We hoped that they would give us a tiny taste when their appetizers arrived and sassy critic one overtly complimented and ogled their appetizers - particularly the fresh figs with walnuts. They offered and she tasted. What else do you do when you taste a stranger’s food? Start talking.
Next thing you know, the group's leader [aka the guy with the company's credit card] at the table, feeling the sense of power and liberation you can only get from putting a corporate expense account to good use, offered us some wine. "White or red," he said. Sassy one said "white," and Sassy T said "red." Corp. Manager turned to the waitress (attractive red pigtailed hair, subtle nose ring and high cheek bones) and said "I don’t care I have an expense account. One of each…" You might think he was abusing the privilege of a corporate account. But no, he was simply inspired by the magic of near-perfect pizza, wine and fresh figs. Perhaps our initial offer of the mozzarella di bufala must have sparked his generosity. Plus, he doesn't live in Seattle, so talking to people face to face doesn't feel like being a contestant on Fear Factor for him. Sitting at the same table may have helped. Might as well throw in the moon phase too, which, if I'm not mistaken, was waxing crescent. [http://stardate.org/nightsky/moon/]
They offered appetizers, we offered pizza, they shared wine, we gave our desserts [chocolate cannoli and pear tart - the cannoli was the better of the two, the pear tart lacked flavor]. Just as importantly shared conversation. Yes, we had a conversation. Turns out corporate manager was born in the same town as sassy T [same hospital too] somewhere east of here. He also hung out at the same bar where she worked as a bartender. A little hole-in-the-wall just blocks from their alma mater. Although neither recognized the other, both knew that sassy T - before she was sassy T and he was white collar wonder boy with a corporate account - poured him many mugs of beer. Maybe even his first mug of beer? Maybe she signed his mug club card? Congratulated him and sent him on his way? Who knows? It doesn't matter.
What mattered that night at Serious Pie was that strangers sitting at the same table began to talk, that pretty good food brought good people together, that people weren't too busy, tired, timid, self-interested to spend their time [and share their wine] with each other, that a man with a corporate account wasn't afraid to use it. We exchanged emails and business cards, but we'll probably never see or hear from each other again. That's okay. That one night was all we needed.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Wild Ginger: The Bar
Wild Ginger
1401 Third Avenue
Seattle, WA 98101
Reservations 206.623.4450
OK. We heard that this was the quintessential cougar den (translation: meat/meet market for mature unattached ladies). So we went for happy hour on a Monday at around 5 p.m., with friends, to check it out. The afterwork downtown crowd for sure. What did we find ? Well.....
More well dressed architect wanna-be single/married men on the prowl than we expected. A far far cry from the Allegro crowd. No hippies. No academic posturing.
We were hungry. It was happy hour. We ordered fancy shmance drinks - of course with potato vodka, which they have at Wild Ginger. Hurrah. But only one brand. So, how about those precooked shrimp in curry sauce? They sucked donkey, and we told our waiter. He kindly took them off the tab. The pork potstickers, however, rocked. Satisfying. Not too salty but salty enough. Nice firm dough, well cooked. Halibut with lemongrass was amazing. Not overcooked (or precooked..thank God). I can't figure out why a restaurant of Wild Ginger caliber would have pre-cooked shrimp lying around...waiting to be doused in whatever sauce happens to be ordered. For shame.
Well, after ordering upwards of 50 dollars in finger food, these two sassy chicas were still hungry but not willing to plunk down more cash in this overpriced candled joint. The table across the way, surrounded by 4 suits ordered a large plate of sexy green beans, steaming and glistening.
When we asked to taste their spicy green beans, naturally the suits thought we were talking about something else ...something that needed large doses of viagra to function. But no, ‘tasting the green bean’ is not a euphemism. We just wanted a taste of an actual green bean. Of course, the only thing the suits heard was "we want... your...." So naturally they beckoned us to their table. Since it was my idea to taste their beans, I had to go. Trying to look as if I did this all the time, I sauntered over to have a nibble. Biting my lip [this was my first time ...] I slowly pulled one out, trembling but excited all the same. What in the world was a [formerly] respectable girl thinking by putting his green bean in my mouth? And so early in the evening too. A green bean, goddamn it. It was so long and smooth. But as with many veggies past their prime .... it was limp. Not so sexy. The bean had been steamed a bit too long although it still had some flavor. Limp beans can’t stand up to a spicy schezwan sauce. Plus, they weren’t steaming, they were tepid. Not the restaurant’s fault. The suits barely touched them. Apparently green beans are bait here. It worked... but not the way the suits expected. I got what I wanted. See ya suits.
I would go back to try more green beans though. They were lightly coated in the schezwan sauce - not drowning in it. A properly steamed green bean is firm, long, lucious and knows exactly how to take on a little hotty sauce.
Would I go back to Wild Ginger? Yes, but only with a large rowdy group. The drinks were expensive but worth it. They have an impressive cocktail menu serving old standards, such as the Sidecar, alongside trendy yuppie-in-denial drinks like mojitos. Added plus: our server man was fun and thought the suits were wankers. Thank you server. It's basically hit or miss with this one though and for the price the food should be out of this world. While the pot stickers and halibut were amazing, the pre-cooked bland shimp and overcooked beans were no excuse for any restaurant for any price. In the restaurant biz? Stick to what you do best. If that means having a smaller menu, then so be it. It's worth it. If your food is consistantly good, no, great, then people will flock to your place even if you only have a few items to offer. There seems to be this pressure to offer everything to everyone.
This is not a cougar den at all. It’s a manther cave. Ladies, if you’re that desperate [and who isn’t at some point], leave your dignity at home. Manthers look somewhat respectable when blurry. But don’t get too close unless you’ve had more than a few of Wild Ginger’s sidecars. Unlike cougars, manthers do not age well. The manthers/suits had mini grand canyons etched into their faces. I thought if I got any closer I would fall into one of their crevasses. Amazing how a guy at any age thinks he’s all that and more to the ladies. Got to hand it to you guys, you’ll still try even if you are obnoxious and/or spineless twits.
1401 Third Avenue
Seattle, WA 98101
Reservations 206.623.4450
OK. We heard that this was the quintessential cougar den (translation: meat/meet market for mature unattached ladies). So we went for happy hour on a Monday at around 5 p.m., with friends, to check it out. The afterwork downtown crowd for sure. What did we find ? Well.....
More well dressed architect wanna-be single/married men on the prowl than we expected. A far far cry from the Allegro crowd. No hippies. No academic posturing.
We were hungry. It was happy hour. We ordered fancy shmance drinks - of course with potato vodka, which they have at Wild Ginger. Hurrah. But only one brand. So, how about those precooked shrimp in curry sauce? They sucked donkey, and we told our waiter. He kindly took them off the tab. The pork potstickers, however, rocked. Satisfying. Not too salty but salty enough. Nice firm dough, well cooked. Halibut with lemongrass was amazing. Not overcooked (or precooked..thank God). I can't figure out why a restaurant of Wild Ginger caliber would have pre-cooked shrimp lying around...waiting to be doused in whatever sauce happens to be ordered. For shame.
Well, after ordering upwards of 50 dollars in finger food, these two sassy chicas were still hungry but not willing to plunk down more cash in this overpriced candled joint. The table across the way, surrounded by 4 suits ordered a large plate of sexy green beans, steaming and glistening.
When we asked to taste their spicy green beans, naturally the suits thought we were talking about something else ...something that needed large doses of viagra to function. But no, ‘tasting the green bean’ is not a euphemism. We just wanted a taste of an actual green bean. Of course, the only thing the suits heard was "we want... your...." So naturally they beckoned us to their table. Since it was my idea to taste their beans, I had to go. Trying to look as if I did this all the time, I sauntered over to have a nibble. Biting my lip [this was my first time ...] I slowly pulled one out, trembling but excited all the same. What in the world was a [formerly] respectable girl thinking by putting his green bean in my mouth? And so early in the evening too. A green bean, goddamn it. It was so long and smooth. But as with many veggies past their prime .... it was limp. Not so sexy. The bean had been steamed a bit too long although it still had some flavor. Limp beans can’t stand up to a spicy schezwan sauce. Plus, they weren’t steaming, they were tepid. Not the restaurant’s fault. The suits barely touched them. Apparently green beans are bait here. It worked... but not the way the suits expected. I got what I wanted. See ya suits.
I would go back to try more green beans though. They were lightly coated in the schezwan sauce - not drowning in it. A properly steamed green bean is firm, long, lucious and knows exactly how to take on a little hotty sauce.
Would I go back to Wild Ginger? Yes, but only with a large rowdy group. The drinks were expensive but worth it. They have an impressive cocktail menu serving old standards, such as the Sidecar, alongside trendy yuppie-in-denial drinks like mojitos. Added plus: our server man was fun and thought the suits were wankers. Thank you server. It's basically hit or miss with this one though and for the price the food should be out of this world. While the pot stickers and halibut were amazing, the pre-cooked bland shimp and overcooked beans were no excuse for any restaurant for any price. In the restaurant biz? Stick to what you do best. If that means having a smaller menu, then so be it. It's worth it. If your food is consistantly good, no, great, then people will flock to your place even if you only have a few items to offer. There seems to be this pressure to offer everything to everyone.
This is not a cougar den at all. It’s a manther cave. Ladies, if you’re that desperate [and who isn’t at some point], leave your dignity at home. Manthers look somewhat respectable when blurry. But don’t get too close unless you’ve had more than a few of Wild Ginger’s sidecars. Unlike cougars, manthers do not age well. The manthers/suits had mini grand canyons etched into their faces. I thought if I got any closer I would fall into one of their crevasses. Amazing how a guy at any age thinks he’s all that and more to the ladies. Got to hand it to you guys, you’ll still try even if you are obnoxious and/or spineless twits.
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