22.5 Average

The average age of my grown children is 22.5 years. My son and his girlfriend are visiting this week. So far I'm able to keep up with Thing 1, Thing 2, Son and Significant Other during this visit. It's not necessarily easy. No one seems to get horizantal, as in bedtime, until 2 am or so. I wonder by putting in an 8 hour day at work and then going on to play with them in the evening if I may actually be "besting" them at the stamina game.

I remember playing like my babies when they were still in diapers, lying on the floor kicking their feet in the air. So, I'd try it. That stuff wore me out (never mind looking silly). But I kept up with them. Geesh, here I am 20+ years later still keeping up with them.

Last night was home video night. I've not heard my offspring laugh so hard, so completely, in years. They thought their dad's mullet was hilarious. They laughed even harder to see their brother with a mullet of his own (at age seven) in the very next scene. They howled in laughter at the dog pushing one of them off the sofa. All three were riveted to the tv for the next scene, entranced. Amazing stuff. I enjoyed watching them laugh more than watching the video they were watching.

Oh, I want to go home and crawl into bed. Yet, more than that, I want to arrive at the restaurant fresh and full of pep for the great dinner we have planned. Time is too short. I'm grabbing every speck laid before me.

Jonesin' for a steak

This is just your run of the mill whiney post. I'm sure half an hour after posting I will be on to something else, forgetting that I have a whiney streak in me today. What you see above is my bacon cheeseburger with homemade potato chips. It's just not the same. It's not the same as walking into some restaurant with ambient lighting, being guided to an open and usually inviting table and being asked to please take a seat. It's not the same as someone coming around, just out of the blue, to fill your water glass. It's not the same as the basket of bread with honey-butter being delivered to the table just because. This bacon cheeseburger with homemade potato chips is not the rib eye steak I am craving right now. It is not the massive house salad or side of green beans, or baked potato or any of it. This homemade bacon cheeseburger with potato chips is not even McD's where one just drives up to a light up board, talks to a screen and then drives around to another window where one gets handed the most heavenly smelling paper bag.

This homemade bacon cheeseburger isn't even on a bun - although I like the dark sweet whole grain stuff better anyway. I am jonesin' to not eat at home. I am craving almost any restaurant. The funniest thing is, I can't bring myself to go do it. Cash is available. Time is available. I've been out driving twice today thinking about eating and haven't stopped anywhere except the grocery to pick up the burger. I've definitely got issues.

(The photo is to remind me I've got nothing whine about)

Great restaurants of Seattle

Twice in one year. I am so enjoying this year. Twice in one year I get to enjoy fantastic food at great restaurants here in Seattle. In April I had the pleasure of heading over to Capitol Hill and dining at Poppy's restaurant. Already last night I was able to go to Tilth in the Wallingford neighborhood. I promise I am not spoilt yet. It certainly has been an exceptional year.

Tilth is owned by chef, Maria Hines. Maria was named this year's James Beard's Chef of the year for the Northwest. She has been running Tilth since 2006 and last year made NYTimes top 10 best new restaurants in the nation. She's got a great crew too. As we were standing looking into the kitchen at the end of our meal all the sudden the whole crew stopped their activity and smiled and waved at us all at once. There's a show stopper for you!

Let's go back to the beginning of the meal and our waitress, Sherri. She's got it going on because she let us know we can have "half orders" and that way we can try more things on the menu. Excellent plan of attack. My dining partner - yep, my son - has an inside scoop on this particular restaurant. He's been eyeing some dishes waiting for the opportunity to try them out. We each ordered two "half-orders" from the menu and ate off each other's plates as if we were related (oh that's right, never mind). We were still proper diners. We used our forks in the proper order and kept our napkins in our laps. What more do you want?

Beautiful Plate of Tuna, baby carrots and chive spaetzle

please note: napkin on lap

We enjoyed the Tuna (oh, the tuna...and the chive speatzle under it was light a refreshing and perfect to look at as well as to eat). We had Sweetbread - something I've never had before (wow, almost a light liver, as in pate, but not - I'll stop now). We had Balsamic glazed chicken - succulent and the corn puree accompaniment was the sweetest corn I ever remember eating. Is it because these things are organic? There was a lightness, nothing muddled about the flavors.

But, the thing I wonder I will always remember from this visit to Tilth is that I ate mussels and not only liked them...I want to go back for more. Mussles with dill and cilantro - what a vibrant flavor combination! I can taste it just thinking about it. It was good, damn good.

This Mussels thing is an amazing wonder in that I have never liked anything that vaguely resembles an oyster. Anything bivalvular had me looking at the other side of a menu. This aversion, I'm sure, started at Christmas Eve, the dreaded Christmas Eve Oyster Stew. Before I even started school I remember watching either my mom or my aunt or my grandma making oyster stew on Christmas Eve. Each of them would be going on and on about how good it is and our Swedish heritage and this will get passed down for generations (oops, sorry). I would be standing on a chair at the counter watching the oysters and the milk and the butter, salt & pepper going into the pot. I still want to gag at the smell of that. I can't help but wonder if a bad batch of oysters showed up one year and that was the "formative" year for me and oysters.

We can't say that my taste buds have finally grown up. I had the opportunity to try Cockles this year and, nope, they are as icky as oysters. Just smaller. These mussels at Tilth were good because they were cooked well. I wouldn't have thought to put dill and cilantro together. This is a spectacular burst of flavors. I suppose that's why I'm not the chef.

My son knows how to pick 'em. He makes a great dinner partner too. Espresso! Finish your night out with espresso, and the deserts (strawberry sconey thingy and a chocolate decadent scrumptious thick cake with creme and...the best....)!

Poppy Restaurant Review & Thoughts on Time

I love fine dining.  That's all there is to it.  Last night I was able to experience one of the nicest of fine dining.  Poppy Restaurant in Seattle is in the Capitol Hill District.  I hadn't been to Capitol Hill yet. I'd arrived early, it was still daylight, so I drove around for a good look see.  The homes and gardens are delicious (oh wait, that was the restaurant).  Okay, okay...food.  I'm still savouring.  

Poppy's is run by Chef Jerry Traunfield.  He has a great track record, named James Beard's Best American Chef: Northwest & Hawaii in 2000 for his work as Executive Chef at the time at The Herbfarm in the Seattle area.  I knew walking in I could expect good things.  I was not disappointed.  Poppy serves food as thali, a presentation inspired by Indian food.  That means lots of little dishes.  It's not a series of appetizers.  It's an entire meal of 9 dishes plus naan, an Indian bread.  It wasn't Indian food with curry in everything either.  It had pea greens and saffron and spring herbs in season.  I ate things I'd only heard of before, like fiddle head ferns.  The fiddle heads were so interesting to look at for god's sake, and delightful on my tongue.  Earthy and rough and light (okay, so I'm not real good at descriptors - I'm working on it - but that's what it tasted like).  The egg-lemon soup complimented everything that came off my fork; the salmon in wine herb reduction, the croquette of I don't remember what (but damned good).  The place setting included silver chopsticks; I used the fork, I didn't want the meal in my lap.  My partner in crime was adept at chopsticks though, two points there.  The tandoor roasted pork had the most interesting, tasty olives with it...almost peppery.  Oh man, the smells coming from this platter (grinning - think cheshire cat).  Oh, oh the rubarb pickles.  I never would have thought, rubarb pickles.  I haven't eaten this slow in eons. Every bite was a mindful, melting explosion of newness.  This platter was heaven on the table.  I was a good girl and kept it down to one glass of wine that I nursed all evening.  Of course, I needed to drive home; mostly though, I didn't want the meal in my lap. Two points for me.

Tonight I'm back to pb&j and a diet Pepsi.  This must be to make me enjoy these great moments even more.

One topic of discussion over dinner was Daylight Savings Time and it's insidous part in ruining the economy.  Here government decides to change when our Daylight Savings Time goes into (and out of) effect by a whole two weeks - a year and a half later we are experiencing an economic meltdown.  It must be the clocks.  After looking into this theory I'm even more concerned to learn that some New Zealander is responsible for this melt-down by offering up the Daylight Savings Time ploy back in 1895.  This can only mean that the melt-down has been in the making for 114 years.