Breaking news: New Canlis contest!

Looks like those crafty Canlis brothers are at it again. Their chef, Jason Franey, is up for a Food + Wine magazine "Best New Chef" award. They're on the campaign trail, posting daily pictures to their Facebook/Twitter accounts with the guys wearing "vote for Jason" signboards. The black and white photos hark back to presidential campaigns of yore, emitting Don Draper cool.

But, according to a news tip today, there may be more than at first meets the eye. The folks at Eater.com claim there's Morse Code embedded in each photo, leading us to solve a new mystery. Some sort of "pop-up" restaurant headed by Franey. Whoever solves the clue first gets a free dinner.

Looks like it's time to get back in the game!

Sunny days...

I haven't seen this in quite a while:

It so inspired me that I took a walk, sipped a coffee, sauntered slowly home, then took 10 minutes in the Garden of Neglect to take care of unfinished business. Finally, on this 2nd day of February, my fall, close-up-shop work on last summer's garden is done.

Who wants to be outside in the rain and sleet, tugging out barren roots and breaking down tomato cages anyway?

This weather isn't atypical in Seattle. For at least a few days every February, the sun shines brightly, the clouds part, the blue sky spans, and we smile. Things come to life again.

I'm even planning a list of what to do (and what not to do) during this year's growing season. To start: some intoxicatingly sweet shrubbery outside the bedroom windows. My dream is to throw open the windows wide and let the aromas waft in. I've also got to do something about those raised beds (good idea, but not nearly deep enough). Maybe some hanging baskets?

And thanks to Punxsutawney Phil, it looks like spring is officially coming early. Here's to a new start!

San Francisco: A Photo Essay

For my 34th birthday last month, Nate and I flew south to my all-time favorite city, San Francisco, for a long weekend. We've taken quite a few short trips to the Bay Area over the years. Now there's less pressure to see all the sights. Instead, we can relax... Hence sleeping in past official breakfast time and dining on soup for breakfast at farm:table.

Broccoli soup & apricot preserves pie for brekkie at farm:table. The lemon oil drizzle woke me up!

Tangy apricot preserves pie and coffee - this girl's best friend

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On our walk back to Union Square, we stumbled upon lots of green. Like this ivy-covered building...

The big tree in Union Square. So festive!...

This charmingly retro green streetcar...

Old meets new - I love the retro scene of this traincar with the modern lady in front.

And, lots of other "green" wafting through the air. My my, those San Franciscans sure like to puff tough on their "herbal cigarettes."

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One can't take a trip to SF without visiting the Mission for (yes, more) eats. The district swims in taqueries, like the postage-stamp-sized Papalote. The entrees were mediocre. But the specialty salsa - a cream, tangy, spicy concoction - made the BART journey worthwhile. Papalote sells the salsa in glass jars, and had the TSA not banned liquids above 3 oz., I would have stashed several in my carry-on bag to take home.

Papalote's salsa - creamy & spicy. Nate frowns when he realizes we can't bring it home to Seattle.

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We'd already planned a visit to the Ferry Building along the water (I'd been so inspired to visit this indoor market since drooling over Lorna Yee's post and pictures). The weekly farmer's market, held on Saturday mornings, was icing. Here are some scenes:

San Francisco = fog. View from the pier.

Oysters in the a.m.? Not so much. But the display sure is lovely.

Streaming sunshine.

Chicken little.

Inside the Ferry Building.

Moving on to dairy.

Queso, queso, queso!

The wheels of the cheese go round and round.

Beta carrot-ene.

Oh, honeyman. Lots of varietals of fresh honey from this farm stand.

Rainbow of peppers.

Blue Bottle coffee!

Heavenly eucalyptus wreaths. Again, I wanted to tote one home but it wouldn't fit in my backpack. Alas, I found a similar version at Trader Joe's upon return to Seattle.

Intoxicating lavender

Welcome to the Port of San Francisco

That's a lot of meat.

From Rose Pistola - a mahi mahi sammie + tangy lentil salad. Perfect to share on a bench outside with the seagulls and sea air and my love.

All in all, it was a lovely trip. And as the song goes, I left my heart...

Year in rewind: Back to meat

Turkey, bacon, avocado, tomato = a delight

In a world that is heading decidedly meatless (at least here in the PacNW), I am a rebel.

Early this year that my doctor put the kibosh on my vegaquarian ways, sending me home with a Rx for meat.

And so, to begin this new decade, I began adding meat to my menu rather than subtracting it.

It wasn't easy at first. I was squeamish just thinking of eating birds, let alone cooking them. And then, a few months in, a realization dawned: I was starting to enjoy ordering poultry. In fact, I loved turkey.

A few months ago, I confessed another secret to you: eating bacon. The admission only fueled my fire and now I order the slices with reckless abandon; I even cooked some - twice - at home this week.

I still shy away from other red meats, and plan to do so for the longhaul. Vegetarian meals continue to grace our plates a few times a week; they're not going anywhere in 2011. And I need to work on cooking poultry - right now, I'm more comfortable ordering it when we dine out.

In 2010, I've ordered fish from Duke's Chowder House, fried chicken from Ezell's, and bacon from IHOP. We've come a long way.

I look forward to hearing what my doctor has to say come spring during my annual appointment.

Christmas Baking: Buche de Noel

I'm not much of a baker, but my sister-in-law, El Fab, is a master. Every Christmas when she's in town, we spend a day baking a treat for Christmas dinner.









One year it was gingerbreadmen, gingerbreadwomen, and enough gingerbreadcats to concern Bob Barker. Last year, we doled out Santa's Favorite Cake - a red velvet/peppermint concoction. This year, we're looking overseas to a French tradition: Buche de Noel - which is basically an edible yule log. My dear friend Elisa just sent me the Tartine cookbook for my birthday, which contained a recipe; this was the perfect time to test it.

On Festivus, we schlepped to numerous stores to get our ingredients (including some Tuaca for courage). Then we spent three solid hours baking the cake, brewing the espresso syrup, and whipping up an intensely rich coffee-Kahlua-infused buttercream. We rolled the "log" and left it in the fridge to firm.

On Christmas Eve came decoration time. Rather than form meringue mushrooms ala Tartine, we purchased some darling pinecone and hollyberry decorations from Home Cake. We made "moss" from pistachios and "bark" chocolate ganache, then dusted the entire log with crystallized, edible "snow."

Much better than the yuletide logs we used to make in gradeschool, I'd say.

Merry Merry, to you and yours!

Canlis Clues: The Menu Scavenger Hunt that Has Seattle in a Tizzy

I've only been to Canlis once. I grew up in Seattle, hearing about the legendary, low-slung restaurant overlooking Lake Union.


In the 80s, Canlis was untouchable: a luxurious place reserved for the uber-wealthy who dripped in diamonds. In the 90s, Canlis' excess seemed outrageous in the era of dirty combat boots and flannel. By the early aughts, I downright dismissed the notion of ever wanting to dine at Canlis. After all, it was a place for grandparents and outdated, out-of-town tourists.

But for some nagging reason, my curiosity was piqued. I'd driven over the Highway 99 bridge all these years, looking at Canlis, wondering what it was like inside. I'd entered the foodie scene in Seattle -- and, for some reason, its community was still talking about the staid restaurant. And well-timed Tweets from the restaurants' marketing team -- beautiful photographs of colorful, artful, modern dishes -- helped me realize my impression of Canlis may have been wrong.


So after 33 years, I finally asked to go to Canlis for my birthday last December. I figured I'd be let down. And, truthfully, I was.

Don't get me wrong -- the service, Canlis' hallmark -- was impeccable. The dining room was pretty, if as predictable.

But my expectations were simply so high.

I wished we'd been seated at a window table.

When I ordered a cocktail off the featured-drinks menu, the waiter explained that they were out of one of the ingredients. Isn't Canlis' staff supposed to scramble into its helicopter and hustle to locate items on guests' request list? I wished that they'd gone out of their way to fix this.

We both ordered fish entree; when they arrived, my salmon was tasty but the garnish -- a pea-sized dollop of potatoes -- made me chuckle. Honestly, I wished we had gone to Duke's Chowder House.

It was a nice treat -- a chance to finally witness what all the fuss was about. But, I didn't expect to be back.


So here we are, nearly a year later, and all I can think about is Canlis. Why? Because they're in the middle of one of the best marketing campaigns I've ever seen.

A few weeks ago, Canlis' third-generation of family ownership -- brothers Mark and Brian -- began a city-wide scavenger hunt that has me aflutter.


Each day, the restaurant posts a cryptic clue on the restaurant's Facebook page and Twitter feeds. The clue leads the finder to a spot somewhere in the city that hides a menu from 1950. The finder of the menu can then dine at Canlis for 1950's prices.

Why does the campaign work?

The chase: The contest plays on our culture's obsession with winning. It's why eBay is so wildly successful -- have you ever entered a bidding war on an item you don't even really want? You just wanted to win. On Wednesday, convinced I had solved the Canlis riddle, I drove in an adrenaline frenzy toward Greenlake, visibly shaking as I hunted the trees for the clue (I was wrong). As I write this post, I'm constantly flipping back to Canlis' Facebook page -- refreshing it constantly -- to see if they've posted today's clue. I just want one of those menus!


The price: We all love a good deal -- especially in a recession. I haven't yet seen a copy of Canlis' 1950 pricelist, but given our country's skyrocketing inflation rates, I'm sure it's a doozy. I imagine dining for a fraction of the cost. It's a smart move for Canlis, too: new customers get to sample Canlis' fare at an incredibly low price; they're bound to be wowed -- and return to pay full price. Thus Canlis establishes a new generation of customers.


The audience: By tapping in to social media -- the campaign is entirely run on Facebook and Twitter -- Canlis reaches out to a new target audience.  One that's young and hip. No longer is this your grandparents' restaurant.
 
The connection to the city: Canlis has done an impeccable job of positioning itself as impossibly local. Each clue ties in to a Seattle-area landmark, historical site, or beloved secret spot. Clues have been hidden at the Fremont Troll, Memorial Stadium, and the Arboretum, and local personalities including Starbucks' Howard Schultz and the Seattle Sounders' Sigi Schmid are getting in on the game.  By aligning themselves with the city, Canlis is (re)establishing itself as a hallmark of Seattle.

The community: When a new clue appears, the Canlis Facebook page's wall explodes with comments. It's fun to be on the hunt, working together to solve the clue. I love the threaded conversations -- friends exchanging theories and sending out a representative on the chase.

The fun: Canlis' campaign is a great escape from the daily doldrums. Every day around lunchtime, I open my Twitter feeds and Canlis' facebook page and wait. Refresh, refresh, refresh. Then scramble! Stop in the  middle of a project, grab the keys, and go! We joke, but I truly wonder how workers' productivity is impacted by this campaign? 

Excuse me, I've got to run. Canlis is about to post its next clue...

Heel-kicking Good Time: What to eat and see in Austin, TX

Calaveras, a common symbol of Dia de Los Muertos, welcome me to Austin

Everything I previously knew about Texas, I learned from the screen. I've watched "Dazed & Confused" countless times, and I'm obsessed with TV's "Friday Night Lights." I'd only been to Texas airports, connecting in Dallas and Houston but never stepping outside of the ports. My sister-in-law even lives in Big D (aka Dallas), but she usually comes to Seattle to visit family in her hometown.

I had this vision of what Texas would be: all boots and hats; big hair and bigger cars; beer and BBQ and ballgames.

So when my husband mentioned a trip to Austin for the Austin Film Festival, I knew I had to tag along. For five days, we made a condo on boisterous 6th street our home. My husband and his filmschool friends spent their days in film festival presentations. I eventually got a weekend badge so that I could access some of the late night parties, but there was plenty of time to kick around town in search of good food and finds.

Some like it hot! Rows of choices at Whole Foods.

We didn't rent a car, so I walked (or ran) nearly everywhere. I hoofed it down 6th St. toward the Whole Foods flagship store (aka the Mothership). Along the way, I found a quaint and quite delicious deli called Walton's Fancy and Staple, which I thought had been recommended to me by a friend. Turned out I was confusing it with the new Ethan Stowell restaurant of nearly the same name here in Seattle, but it was a wonderful mistake: the "turkey sweet" sandwich perfectly fueled my trek. I can still hear the crisp croissant crunching around salty bacon and heaps of roasted turkey, caramelized onions, and diced apples.

The "Turkey Sweet" from Walton's Fancy and Staple

The next day, I ran Congress St. across the river toward the hip SoCo district. My excuse was exercise, but it was also a scouting mission to spot shops and restaurants. I made a mental note of the storefronts that displayed Dia de los Muertos shrines in their windows, and located Jo's coffee next to the Hotel San Jose.

On Saturday, after attending a very informative panel at AFF, it was back to SoCo. Lord help me, I could not find a bus or cab that would take me the 1-mile trip south; turns out the street was closed due to a Lance Armstrong bike race. Everything was on detour. And so, back to me and my feet making the rounds. Back over the water (which smelled especially rank that day thanks to the 1.5 million bats that reside below the South Congress bridge). Back to the shopping district -- this time with a checklist and an open pocketbook.

My first pitstop along the 2-block strip was Jo's: the iced Belgian Bomber (half cold-press coffee; half chocolate-hazelnut deliciousness) amped me up. Next, I wandered in to Tesoros Trading Company, a veritable Dia de los Muertos mecca. Then Uncommon Objects, a well-touted antiques store. And finally in to Allen's boots, where I spent more than an hour poring over a 3-shelf-high rack of boots that stretched the entire depth of the store. All in my size.

Decisions, decisions, decisions... Endless rows of boots at Allen's.

It was in Allen's where I had a decidedly Texas moment. As I waded through the cowboy kickers, I observed a young couple. She trying on boots; he patiently watching and waiting, quietly encouraging her to get whatever was most comfortable. "That's something I've learned in the last few years, baby," he drawled. "Make sure your boots are comfortable." This guy sounded *just* like "Friday Night Lights'" Tim Riggins.

A few hairs later, as the University of Texas football game buzzed over the radio in the background, the National Weather Service interrupted the game to announce an impending tornado in a nearby county.

"We've gotta get outta here, baby," said "Riggins." Ever the eavesdropper, I assumed he wanted to get going because of the storm.

"I can't hear the game in here," he explained.

I guess my preconceived perception of Texas -- all boots and ballgames -- wasn't so far off the mark.

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If you go to Austin, here's a must-do list:

To Eat
Walton's Fancy and Staple (609 W 6th St.): All frills on the outside -- and all fills on the inside. This retro, black & white & floral chic cafe is the perfect place to refuel. Order from the counter, making selections from fresh pasta salads, sandwiches, and specials of the day -- part of the "fancy." Or choose from "staples" that are always on the menu. For $6, I got an intensely tasty Turkey Sweet sandwich: a perfectly flaky croissant brimming with sliced turkey, crispy bacon, sweet caramelized onions, and crunchy diced apples. Plus a pickle. While you wait, browse more fancies -- including fresh floral bouquets, home-decor trinkets, and toothsome treats. Before you leave, take a peek in the dessert case and consider a cupcake or cookie to go.

Garrido's (360 Nueces on W. 3rd St.): Decidedly unique, inspired, modern Mexican fare. I didn't get the chance to dine-in at this restaurant; rather, I sampled a couple of offerings at the Austin Film Festival's Food + Film soiree. The lobster tamale (who would've thought?) oozed with goodness. And the nibble of blackberry mole sauce that accompanied short ribs was a revelation: the mole we get in Seattle just does not compare to this rich, spicy, warming concoction.


Whole Foods (flagship store at 525 N Lamar St.): The mothership

Clay Pit (1601 Guadalupe St.):  High-end, inventive Indian delights. We waited a long time for a table (more than an hour) as intoxicating smells allured us. Sidling up to an appetizer of curried mussels -- dainty bivalves swimming in orange curry -- was worth the wait. As was the complexly seasoned Saag Paneer, which, rather than a bowl of mushed spinach, shone in intricacy: my eye could discern each fleck of chiffonade spinach. Order extra naan to mop up the sauces.

Jo's (adjacent to the Hotel San Jose at 1300 S. Congress St.): Eat -- and drink -- at Jo's. This walk-up window emits casual cool. Order an iced Belgian Bomber -- a concoction of half cold-pressed coffee and half chocolate-hazelnut-cream -- and sip it in the shade of the covered porch while scouting for rockstars emerging from a haze at the Hotel San Jose next door. If you want migas (a breakfast staple of scrambled eggs and tortilla strips), get there early: They were out of all breakfast items by my 11.30 arrival.

To See
Austin Film Festival -- a screenwriter's haven. Days of intense, insightful presentations and panels, dotted with film stars (ahem, Ed Burns!). (October)

Congress St. Bats! (Under the Congress St. Bridge) -- I missed these and regret it! They say you should always leave something for the next visit... I will be back for those bats.

To Shop
Allen's Boots (1522 S. Congress St.) - endless rows of cowboy boots, hats, and plaid shirts. The real deal.

Uncommon Objects (1512 S. Congress St.) -- classic antiques by the truckload.

Tesoros Trading Company (1500 S. Congress St.) --  arts and crafts from around the world. Looking for calaveras (Dia de los Muertos skulls)? This is your place.

Cattle is big in Texas. Whether as wall art in Uncommon Objects...

Or overseeing the Driskill Hotel bar.

Where all the cool kids stay: Hotel San Jose

Iced Belgian Bomber from Jo's

Austin is known for its live music; we were lucky enough to catch one of my favorite bands -- The Old 97s -- for FREE on  4th St.

Dia de los Muertos Cerveza! (Spotted at Whole Foods)