Ravish

From the moment I stepped off Eastlake Ave and through the door at Ravish I was in a better mood. It probably helped that I was there on a rare gorgeous spring afternoon, but I suspect that the brightly painted green mismatched chairs with their orange and red patterned seats and complementary-hued glassybabies would be cheery on the dreariest of days. The flat gray tables, railing separating the bar from the restaurant and the bar itself contrast nicely with all of this brightness, and the sparkly, jangly chandeliers and fixtures over the bar are happily whimsical. I mean really -- how could you be in bad mood in such a place?

Happy hour at Ravish is a hit for me -- so much so that I returned within a week, in fact. I willingly admit that I’m a creature of habit, and in the realm of cocktails I typically (lately) default to a gin martini or sometimes a Manhattan. The fine folks at Ravish offer a happy hour cocktail of the day, though, which I quite enjoyed on both occasions, especially the Dark & Stormy on my second visit.

I’m lucky to have good friends who are willing to try lots of different things, let me eat off their plates and allow me to embarrass them with frequent photos of said plates. Thus it only took a couple of trips to Ravish to try a fair number of the happy hour food offerings, all quite reasonably priced. One of my favorites of the bunch was a more sophisticated version of pigs in a blanket. It was likely due in large part to my weakness for puff pastry, but I loved ‘em. The salad with grapes, apples and cinnamon’d pecans was lovely, as was the maple ham, apple and French brie panini.

We had the artisan spreads trio on both occasions, probably because it’s such a crowd-pleaser basket of breads and crackers served with three delicious spreads: tapenade, goat cheese and the last a combination of red pepper, sundried tomatoes and pine nuts. Another item that made a second appearance because I insisted on it until my friend caved and then was glad she did were the flank steak satay skewers. Tender, perfectly-cooked cubes of beef paired with a slightly sweet sauce. Fantastic!

After looking at the non-happy hour menu, two items I can’t wait to try: Cajun meatloaf sliders with caramelized onions and spicy ketchup on a brioche bun and pancetta three cheese mac and cheese with rosemary cheddar, parmesan and blue cheese topped with breadcrumbs and a truffle oil drizzle.

I’ve long been a fan of Ravish’s parent company, caterer Ravishing Radish, and how exciting that now we have another avenue via which to sample their excellent food. I also noted that their space is available for private parties, and of course I immediately added Ravish to my list of private event spaces, a select few of which you can find here. Now, what sunny, happy event can I bring to this great little space?

Seattle Restaurant Week: Joule

Joule, a sweet little restaurant situated smack in the center of Wallingford, is one of those restaurants that I’ve wanted to try for a while. Its Korean-French menu sounded especially interesting, and I loved that it was a neighborhood spot run by a couple, Rachel Yang and Seif Chirchi, who had done great things at the now closed Coupage in Madrona. So when I saw that Joule was on the list of participants in Seattle Restaurant Week I made my reservation that instant and decided I could figure out later who would be joining me. And not at all surprisingly, the reservation went from two, to three, to four once word was out.

Joule is a delightfully inviting space, with a counter-front of wainscoting painted a warm yellow that’s a little sunnier than mustard and the perfect contrast to the chocolate brown ceilings and benches, and dark wood floor. The art definitely hints toward the Asian influences to come in the food, as do the drink offerings. I was a fan of the Parisian Sake, and in fact it seemed to me the ideal way to start the meal as it blended both Asian and French elements: Kurosawa sake, St. Germain and grapefruit.

When I first went to Joule’s website I was struck by the beautiful diversity of color, and as the food arrived the other night I thought exactly the same thing. My mother always told me that people eat with their eyes as well and taught me that variation in color and texture is a critical factor in how the food tastes; Joule clearly implements this lesson on a grand scale. (I will say, though, that our Thanksgiving meal is generally exempted from this rule, with its overabundance of smooth, creamy brown-hued foods, brightened by a dollop of cranberries or the occasional brussels sprout. But only if there is room on the plate after the turkey, and mashed potatoes, and stuffing, of course.)

My first of two favorites from the list of starters was the smoked tofu with honshimegi mushroom confit and soy truffle vinaigrette. Smoky and incredibly flavorful, all beautifully presented in this lovely rectangular dish. The second was the spicy beef soup with leek, daikon and crème fraiche, quite spicy and reminiscent of the flavors of traditional kimchi.



The three options for entrée were all quite different, with steak, cannelloni and black cod. Something for everyone, I say! I especially enjoyed the steak bavette, done in a sweet kalbi marinade and served alongside grilled spring onion kimchi and green garlic chimichurri. Perfectly cooked steak with that nicely zesty addition of chimichurri. The rum current sauce of the spicy caramelized black cod sweetened the already-buttery cod, and the watercress and pickled fennel were a nice contrast in taste and texture.



For dessert it was this gorgeous coconut panna cotta served in a rhubarb soup with lime tuile and this deceptively simple-looking condensed milk pound cake with coffee crème anglaise and chocolate Chantilly. That last is a little bit like a super-dense mousse with intense chocolate flavor, and described by one of my friends at the table as “dreamy.” Really.



Having the chance to eat at a restaurant like Joule is exactly what Seattle Restaurant Week is all about, and I’m so glad to have done it. And I really felt as though this meal was entirely representative of the fantastic food they serve all the time, and I just happened to luck into a really great deal. Can’t wait to return!

Seattle Restaurant Week: Bin on the Lake

If Mistral Kitchen was less than I suspect it could be for a non-Seattle Restaurant Week experience, then Kirkland’s Bin on the Lake is certainly the opposite. Located in the Woodmark Hotel, I didn’t know much about the restaurant when I picked it off the list for dinner, and as a result didn’t have especially high expectations. But start to finish, they did a great job of making me feel as though they were excited to have us there and prepared to show off what the restaurant could do. It’s not that the interior was especially stunning -- the stunning happens just outside, with the beautiful view of Lake Washington -- or that the food was particularly inventive, but it was a good, solid experience.

From the three course menu, we started with appetizers of Dungeness crab fritters and beef brisket sliders. The fritters were served with butternut squash and a smear of jalapeno honey, and I thought that they were terrifically crisp and crab-flavorful. The sliders weren’t quite as successful for me -- the overly sweet sauce reminded me of childhood visits to the local Longhorn Barbecue -- but I loved the crispy shallots and mini brioche bun.


From there it was on to an entrée of pork tenderloin on a bed to-die-for crispy spätzle and apple cream, with some leafy greens and golden raisins sprinkled throughout.


Although I generally don’t order a chicken breast when out and about, this one came recommended by our server and turned out be an excellent choice. The chicken itself was cooked beautifully, and arrived atop a stack of brussels sprout and bacon hash, and Beecher’s white cheddar grits, all drizzled with a nicely tart mustard vinaigrette.


We finished the meal with a tasty duo of chocolate mousse with Grand Marnier-soaked strawberries, and espresso bread pudding with accompanying dots of lemon caramel. I’ve been thinking about this, and surely one of the reasons I like things like Seattle Restaurant Week and Dine Around Seattle is that I’m “made” to eat dessert. As one of three courses, one wouldn’t want dessert to feel left out by being refused, would one?

Seattle Restaurant Week: Mistral Kitchen

Yay for Seattle Restaurant Week! From April 18-29 (apparently “Seattle Restaurant 10 Days” didn’t have quite the same ring), Sundays through Thursdays, you have the chance to pay $25 for three courses (or $15 for lunch at some) at 100+ restaurants around the area. It’s an excellent excuse to get out and try one of the restaurants you’ve been dying to check out, and I applaud all of those that committed to participating.

The only catch -- and I’ve thought this about Dine Around Seattle and similar dining promotions as well -- is that they create an unnatural construct for restaurants and patrons alike. The former are (mostly) held to a set menu for the length of the promo which may be a challenge to design depending on their usual price point and likely an increased number of patrons, and the latter expect that the meal they have is representative of the restaurant even though all of these other issues are at play. It makes me cringe a little bit thinking of all of these potential new dining patrons flocking to restaurants they might fall in love with under normal circumstances, but that might not show well under these sorts of “promotional” conditions.

With all of this in mind I embarked on my first reservation for Seattle Restaurant Week, Tuesday lunch at Mistral Kitchen. The new venture from star chef William Belickis, the former chef/owner of Belltown’s Mistral, is slightly more accessible than its especially upscale predecessor but I suspect is not the venue for everyone. It’s on the first floor of a fantastic wedge of a building, with long lines of windows on two sides, one of them fronting Westlake Ave. The rough hewn tabletops add warmth to the otherwise industrial vibe of the interior, with its concrete floors, abundance of heavy metals and modern furnishings and fixtures. The main dining room and bar area are adjacent to a much warmer, cushier small dining room, the “chef’s table” area where William Belickis displays his considerable talents as well as a couple of little nooks perfect for small groups of cocktails-sippers.

We started with a nicely peppery salad of arugula, fennel, pecorino, lemon and olive oil. From there we both chose for the main course the roasted pork chop with farro, glazed asparagus and saba. The farro was a touch firm for my taste, but the pork chop was nicely done, likely a challenge when churning out so many portions for hungry and harried lunchtime crowds.

The dessert was this sweet little milk chocolate coriander ice cream sandwich with a dollop of apricot compote. The coriander was entirely undetectable until I had a bite of ice cream sans sandwich and concentrated really really hard, but quite complementary to the meal all the same.



Although I love that Seattle Restaurant Week brought me to Mistral, which I might not have otherwise tried, I can’t help but think that I didn’t have the real Mistral experience. Maybe dinner would be different, or maybe this is designed to whet my appetite for more. I’m not entirely convinced, though, when there are so many other good restaurants to sample. Onward with SRW…

Santé

Step 1: Get in your car. Step 2: Drive east. Way east. Step 3: Screech to a halt in downtown Spokane in front of Santé, the year-and-a-half old restaurant and charcuterie attached to Auntie’s Bookstore. Auntie’s is Spokane’s fantastic independent bookstore, kindred spirit to Elliott Bay in Seattle and Powell’s in Portland. Perhaps there is a trend of talented restaurateurs running bookstore-attached cafes -- see Tamara Murphy in Elliott Bay’s former lower level space -- and if so, Chef/Owner Jeremy Hansen is an excellent example of this trend on the east side of the state.

From an interior perspective, it’s more upscale than other bookstore cafes I’ve seen. Though there aren’t a huge number of tables, the open ceiling and big windows that look onto West Main Street give the room a terrific spaciousness. The white wainscoting on two walls and dark, shiny floor contrast nicely, as do the substantial, very un-modern chairs and the distinctly modern menu. The space is well-proportioned and comfortable, but clearly much of the action is taking place out of sight.

It’s late on a Thursday night and Hansen is all energy and enthusiasm, excited to talk about his plans for Santé. He and his relatively large team will continue to produce great food out of what is a tiny kitchen for such a varied menu, while expanding into other areas of the building as the restaurant offerings evolve. The newest of these is a recently-finished space in the basement, now ground zero for their house-cured charcuterie and soon to become the same for cheese and bread production. For all of the restaurants that aspire to make everything in-house, Santé gives them a run for their money. Next up is an herb garden on the rooftop, I’ve no doubt.

The first thing that appeared at the table that evening was an amuse-bouche, literally something that “entertains the mouth,” a single bite of some bit of wonderful that arrives unbidden from the chef. This particular version was a thin crisp of toast with apple jelly, goat cheese and a blackberry gracing the top. Just enough to get the palate ready for more.

Next came the crespella, a goat cheese and leek stuffed crêpe with tomato confit and basil gastrique. The tomato arrived intact rather than confited, which was perfectly fine with me, and the gastrique was sweet and basil-y and the perfect accompaniment to the goat cheese and crêpe.

The charcuterie plate was a rather substantial offering of salami, chicken terrine, brie, cornichons, baguette and two house-made mustards, my favorite of which was the marjoram. But for me the star of the plate was the duck prosciutto, immensely flavorful and gorgeously un-lean.

The true cod had a lovely sear on the top and was falling-apart tender and much more flavorful than I might have expected from this particular fish. No doubt it helped that the cod was paired with the creamiest root vegetable risotto, spinach, onion and beurre fondue. I’m guessing that last is a bit like beurre blanc only creamier, which likely gave the risotto the texture I loved so much. The balsamic reduction around the rim of the plate and plum and walnut chutney lent a bit of sweetness, contrasting with the salt of the gaufrette (a thinly waffled potato crisp) placed atop the dish.

We finished with this caramel apple crème brulée, paired with a granny smith apple sorbet. As with everything else we had that evening dessert was beautifully presented, but the chunks of fruit overwhelmed the crème brulée and the accompanying sorbet seemed an unnecessary addition when quite lacking in flavor. In my opinion, the only misstep in an otherwise fantastic meal.

Santé also looks to have a knock-out brunch menu, and I already have my eye on a couple of items: the duck hash (duck confit, foie gras butter, potatoes, onion, white sauce, duck egg, baguette) and the phyllo and house paneer (house-made paneer, date and walnut chutney, tofu, watercress, red wine gastrique). They’re also doing all kinds of interesting events worth checking out, including 15, a 15-course (nope, that’s not a typo) extravaganza complete with participating wineries, all benefitting Ronald McDonald House Charities of Spokane.

Clearly it’s not just Chef Hansen and the talented team in the back of the house who do great work at Santé. Kudos to our server, Eric, who did a fantastic job of pointing us toward menu items we might not have otherwise tried. He was knowledgeable, helpful and fun -- three things I very much appreciate in someone walking me through a meal. With this kind of phenomenal food and service, and engaging community events, it looks like a bright food future for Santé, without a doubt.