Last weekend my dad and I flew up to Seattle to visit my sister Rachael. I love Seattle for many reasons-one of which is the food. There were a few spots I’d been wanting to try, so we made the most of our time and hit up Serious Pie, the Chai House, Lark, Macrina Bakery, The Harbour Public House on Bainbridge Island and a few other spots for treats and coffee. I wish I could show you some pictures, but I stupidly forgot my camera. Suffice it to say, it was brisk and rainy (Seattle never disappoints when I visit) but utterly beautiful in a stark, fall kind of way.
Rachael lives in Ballard in a sweet little green house on a wide, leafy street. Oh, and she has a fig tree. Her house is right across the street from this little blue craftsman bungalow that I fell in love with last time I saw it. A few days before my visit last week, Rachael called to tell me if was for sale and that we should check it out the second I landed.
It was my Dad’s first time visiting , so as we cruised him around Ballard and noticed the “For Sale” sign had been taken down. My little blue house sold so quickly! Now it’s not that I was really looking to move this second, but every time I come to Seattle I marvel at how great it is. Yes, we have quaint, distinct neighborhoods in San Francisco and we also have fantastic food. But I love the way the weather and the outdoors is interwoven into the fabric and culture of the city, how casual it is, and how much more you get for your money in Seattle. There’s a quality of life that you can obtain with much, much less. But for now-the flights are cheap, so I’ll settle on visiting.
Our most memorable meal was at Lark. I’ll be honest. I eat out a lot. Often, with time, the memories of a meal or a dish begin to fade. I’m pretty confident this won’t be the case with Lark. They serve small plates, so you order many things to try and share amongst the table. We sampled the roasted sunchokes with rosemary and lavender, Oxbow baby lettuces with beets, Pork rilletes with ficelle toast, crispy pork belly, Meyer Ranch Coulotte steak, and the sauteed wild mushrooms with garlic and sea salt. Everything was absolute perfection: seasonal, thoughtful, and prepared and plated beautifully. But, oh heavens: those mushrooms. They were delicate and flavorful. The table grew quiet.
On the flight home, I bought December’s Bon Appetit magazine and saw a recipe for Wild Mushroom Farro Risotto. It called for many of the beautiful wild mushrooms that we’d had the previous night–and farro is one of my favorite grains, with its hearty, nutty texture. It’s an Italian grain and you’ll start to see it more and more in the stores as it’s slowly gaining popularity here. When I saw the recipe, I knew it was a priority the second I unpacked and settled back in to California warmth (or warmer, at least) and the reality of sending out more resumes (never-ending). So here it is.
Although my blue house sold, I have a little part of Seattle right here at home with this recipe. It’s the perfect warm, creamy, hearty fall side dish. Or, with a big salad or some sauteed chard, it would be a nice, light meal in and of itself. So wherever you decide to call home, this recipe will help you settle right in.
I used a dried mushroom blend, which is a great option instead of buying each variety separately. Otherwise, you can find the dried mushrooms at specialty grocery stores in the produce section. And for fresh mushrooms, I used cremini and shiitakes.
From: Bon Appetit (12/09)
Bring 3 cups broth and all dried mushroom to oil in a large heavy saucepan. Reduce heat to medium and simmer until mushrooms are soft, about 15 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer mushrooms to work surface. Cut large mushrooms in half. Reserve broth and mushrooms separately.
Melt 1 tablespoon butter with 1 tablespoon olive oil in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add fresh mushrooms and saute until beginning to brown, 7-8 minutes. Add reserved soaked mushrooms and saute 5 minutes longer. Remove from heat.
Melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter with 1 tablespoon oil in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add shallots and garlic; saute until shallots are soft, about 3 minutes. Add farro; stir 1 minute. Pour in reserved mushroom soaking broth, leaving any sediment behind. Bring to boil; reduce heat to medium, cover, and simmer until almost all liquid is absorbed, about 10 minutes. Add 3 1/2 cups chicken broth. Boil uncovered until farro is tender, adding more broth by 1/2 cupfuls if dry and stirring occasionally, about 18 minutes longer. Stir in cheese, cream, and herbs. Stir in half of mushroom mixture. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer to bowl; scatter remaining mushrooms over top.
Something funny happens when you live with someone instead of dating them from afar. You learn little nuances about each other's behavior, see the bottom-of-the-barrel sweaters, take out the trash, and buy underwear and shampoo together. Sam calls my beloved furry slippers old lady slippers and, to be fair, they kind of are. And I've become well acquainted with his holey "sick sweater," his eagerness to retrieve the mail in the early afternoon, and his uncanny ability to drink more tea than anyone I've ever known. Also, I'm learning things about myself. Like the fact that, apparently, most people don't eat a whole grapefruit when they sit down for breakfast. According to Sam, they stop at a half.
Waffles. I don't make them often enough and I'm not sure why. Oh, wait: I am sure why. Because they always seem like kind of a slow, slumbery, Sunday thing to make and I rarely have those kind of mornings--even on Sundays. But I found a recipe I've fallen pretty hard for. It's an old-fashioned waffle recipe and you make the yeasted batter in advance, put it in the fridge for 12-24 hours, and it's ready to go in the morning. I've actually kept the batter in my fridge for a few days and just pull it out, put a scoop on the waffle iron, and have a warm waffle to take in the car on the way to work. Beats a granola bar or banana any day.
The early morning view from our hotel Hi from Shanghai! I'm sitting here stealing a bit of Internet on the 32nd floor of our hotel all too early in the morning. The sun's gleaming in through the curtains, horns are starting to honk below, and I'm clutching a steaming cup of strong coffee that Walter has so kindly prepared for me. Walter's the dining room attendant and, for the lone souls who can't seem to sleep much in Shanghai (I being one of them), he'll make you one mean cup of coffee at sunrise. I have so much to share with you: photos & stories. The World Expo was really incredible, the food's been amazing, the streets are lush with leafy trees and wide-open city parks. I've discovered dragon fruit and boiled peanuts, and learned that scooters and bicyclysits don't adhere to traffic laws. We've finally figured out how to say common phrases like "thank you" properly and are logging some serious miles in our Converse.
I am officially on maternity leave and it feels stranger than I'd imagined. I thought it'd be all about catching up on novels, leisurely baking and maybe sewing a little something for Sprout. Going on lots of walks with friends and out to lunch. The reality is that most people are working during the week and can't just sneak away for lunch dates, and sitting around the house aimlessly reading seems to make me antsy. Instead, I find myself deciding that certain tasks have immense and immediate purpose (when they never seemed to before): repotting our house plants, researching new insurance plans, and planning a new product line for Marge for 2016. In the midst of all of this though, I've found some time to catch up on Netflix movies (any recommendations?), went out to Lebanese food with Sam, and finally made it to a cafe on Capital Hill I've been wanting to try for quite some time. It's gotten a bit chilly in Seattle this week so I've been making lots of cider and chai in the afternoons for an energy boost, and there certainly doesn't seem to be a shortage of soup-making or baking -- which brings me to these not-too-sweet, protein-packed blondies that I've taken quite a liking to.
There are some things you don't question or plan for. They're the things that just happen, that unfold throughout the day or week or month. The things we don't always document or discuss because they don't really seem important enough, but that -- all the same -- so often bring us together in one way or another. Patterns or obsessions or phases. Late-night online shoe shopping. Permission to nap at odd hours. Spontaneous cell-phone photo exchanges. Maybe you can relate. Maybe lately you've been doing something similar. As you do. As we do.