Jeff was in town. He doesn’t come that often, & he stays over a weekend even less so. As soon as I knew he was en route, I popped him an email. “Hey, if you fancy a Big Breakfast Adventure on Sunday you can be sure I’ll be going somewhere”. We had planned on going to Taste at the SAM, but their new hours don’t have them serving up food until 11 am, and there is no way I can not eat until 11 am. Plus Jeff had meetings to head to. We needed food early.
It was, by all standards, a miserable day weather-wise. Cold, grey, drizzling, windy. Right claggy, as we say in the north of England. We toyed with the idea of a trip to the fabulous Lola to munch on her Greek delights, but instead headed further west on the European continent & landed at Le Pichet. Nothing better on a grey, wet Sunday than a couple of hours lolling at a French cafe over Oeufs Plats & Chocolat Chaud.
The last time I went to Le Pichet was back in May 2010. Eeek! Can that really be true? “To me there’s something magical about sitting in the window of a little Parisian café watching the sun play with the leaves on the trees lining the pavement (sidewalk). Especially in the spring & summer & especially in the early morning”. Yup. Sadly, there was nothing magical about the weather or the season on this visit, but who cares when the food & the ambiance is still fantastically French?
Le Pichet is the sophisticated older sister of Cafe Presse, and they are the same, but different. The menu is pretty much the same; the style & ambiance are entirely different. Since you’ve read about Cafe Presse SO. MANY. TIMES…I’ll save you from the {usual} literary swooning & just give you images of the splendidness that was our perfect Sunday breakfast.
Yes, we had Pear Crumble for breakfast. You should try it. It was awesome: hot, sweet, slightly firm pears baked under a crispy, crunchy, golden brown crust of oatmeal topping. Plus melty vanilla bean ice cream. Happy Sunday!
I have 81 draft posts sitting in my dashboard. I have a bunch more drafts in my head. I am not entirely sure how I got to this point, and, it doesn’t really matter, since this is the point I am at. In a desperate attempt not to add to that number, I’m going to combine a whole bunch of dinners into one post, so you get the info & I get some relief. And no more drafts.
Click on the big images for each dinner to start a slide-show.
Dinner with The Dashing German: Seastar
The company was awesome. The food was disappointing, and overpriced. The service was average. I swear the fruit that came with the Panna Cotta was fruit salad out of a can. Seastar, huge disappointment. Mind you, given the company, I’d have eaten pretty much anything and still been happy.
Holiday Dinner with The Boss: Rover’s
The company was awesome. The food was stunning, and ridiculously good. The service was extraordinary. Rover’s blew my mind – I had no idea that a cute little house tucked away behind a row of shops in Madison Park was dishing up food this amazing. The Boss said, “Of all the holiday dinners I’ve eaten in my time, this was by far the best.”
We ate innumerable courses, so here is a small selection of them for your viewing pleasure. This dinner was a culinary delight. GO.
Holiday Dinner with The Team: Le Grand Bistro Americain
The company was awesome. The food was awesome. The service was awesome. I was expecting it to be good – it was way beyond that. Foie gras on your steak? Yes, please. Chocolate desserts made with Valrhona? Yes, please. French food in a typical American bistro setting? Yes, please.
There was a bunch of us, so here’s just a few shots to whet your appetite.
Dinner with The Boss: Cafe Presse
The company was awesome. The food was awesome. The bill was awesome. The service was awesome. And sassy. And patient. I *finally* went to Cafe Presse for dinner. Can you even believe it? The thing that blew everyone’s skirt up was a menu special - Shrimp Pate (or something like that) – the flavors were incredible. This place was so much fun to have a group at. We ordered a bunch of different things, we shared, we laughed. A lot. It was awesome. And we took a few moments to remember our team mate, Brian Glasgow, who was being laid to rest in Melbourne while we ate. We raised our glasses & toasted him: the “mad bastard”.
The bill was $200 for 8. Including booze. Really.
Dinner with The BFF: Bis On Main
The company was awesome. The food was good. The service was *very* handsome. And charming. We really just swung in for a quick bite. BFF just had a main course, I downed a salad & a main. We shared a delicious side of Brussel sprouts with bacon, walnuts & truffle oil. The food did not make me swoon like it usually does, but the company more than made up for that.
Dessert with the BFF: Belle Pastry
The company was awesome. The food was awesome. The service was young & cute & very jolly given that it was past 8 pm. Despite being full when we left Bis On Main, after a 15 minute stroll around Old Bellevue, we nipped into Belle Pastry for a hot chocolate. And a pastry. Well, there’s {always} room for a pastry, right? The pastry on my Lemon Meringue Tart was a little on the soft side, but I expect it had been sat there all day, so really to be expected. These peeps just know how to do pastries right.
Yesterday, in Seattle, was amazing. Blue, blue sky & that big yellow ball in the sky. A most glorious day. Glorious, I tell you. I had a crepe date with a cute gal I had previously only communed with on Twitter. Ah, Twitter – I still don’t know quite what to make of you. It seems though, that social media is alive and kicking and working well. Yay!
We had decided to eat crepes together in Snohomish, as I am apt to do with people I don’t know. Eat crepes, that is, not necessarily in Snohomish. It turned out to be a splendid idea.
The Crepe Escape is right on the edge of downtown Snohomish. Snohomish, if you’ve never been, is adorable. It’s known as the antique capital of WA, and it’s not hard to see why. Is also not hard to see why The Crepe Escape is Tammy’s favorite coffee shop. A beautiful space dotted with eclectic frippery & cutesy accents, it just lends itself to comfortable, casual hanging out. I can see folks curling up in one of those chairs with a good book and a hot coffee for hours on end. The roaring log fire along with the sun heating things up made it all rather warm. After the last few weeks I was ready for warm.
It was fairly chaotic in The Crepe Escape when we arrived. They had a large party, all eating crepes; and large parties, it seems, stretches their abilities to stay sweet & smiley. We waited at the counter forever to order, & then got rather terse service & our drinks all mixed up. Good job we instantly bonded since we were both inadvertently drinking out of the other’s cup before we’d known each other for 10 minutes. I think the server got confused with having 2 slim, same-height, long-haired blonds at the same time.
Luckily, the winter sun streaming though the large windows & the oh-so-cozy decor still made us feel right at home. We sat in the window with our crepes & drinks. I am not sure why we got drinks in to-go cups when we were obviously eating in. Obvious, because, you know, we’d ordered crepes. I hate drinking out of a to-go cup when I am drinking in. The hot chocolate was average – better than a lot, not as good as some.
The crepes were large & well-filled. I had a Snoho Veggie Crepe - bursting with fresh, tasty vegetables & finished with basil sour cream ($8.95). It was wonderfully fresh & tasty. The odd thing was the addition of a tiny spoonful of grilled potatoes in one corner of the fun triangular plates. Tammy’s corner had a tiny pile of coleslaw. Put some food there or don’t, but don’t put it there so it looks either like a mistake or an after-thought.
Meeting Tammy was delightful. Tammy owns Cannon Social Media & is a whiz at helping local businesses survive & thrive in the new economy. She’s passionate about local. Tammy also lends her marketing skills to various local non-profits. She’s a good egg.
We wandered around downtown Snohomish for a while. It was a beautiful day. Clear blue skies & gentle sunshine. By 11:30 it was almost warm. A very wonderful thing at the beginning of February in Seattle. I do wish I’d had my tilt-shift lens with me though.
After we had parted ways I decided to maximise my food opportunities in Snohomish & head over to one of the Cup-cakeries in town. The choice was easy since one of them only opens on the weekend. I’ll go to Bite Me, then. Bite Me is pink. Very pink. Deanna Morauski would love it here. I was a little disturbed by the T-shirts on the wall leading up to the party area – kids T-shirts emblazoned across the front with “Bite Me”? Hmmmm.
Clean, fresh & welcoming, I was surprised I was the only one eating cupcakes on a gloriously sunny Friday morning. I picked a spot in the super-sunny window & figured that 3 mini cupcakes would be better than 1 large one. Red Velvet, Carrot & Chocolate Cupcakes with a large cup of Peppermint Tea coming right up.
Even the bathroom had been cupcaked with pink walls & cutesy cupcake wall art. But, I know you – all you really want is pictures of gorgeous cupcakes & to know whether they tasted good.
The Carrot Cupcake was delicious – moist, carroty, light. The Chocolate Cupcake was good – good texture, could have been more chocolaty, not especially memorable. The Red Velvet Cupcake was the disappointment. At this point I should mention that Red Velvet anything disturbs me. Having made Red Velvet Cupcakes in a Baking class at my house at the specific request of my effervescent & zany friend, Fritzy, I was horrified to discover the incredible amount of red food coloring one needs to get the cake that color. We don’t have Red Velvet cake in England, so this whole Red Velvet thing was new to me. However, I am pretty certain that my inherent fear of eating such a beast is NOT clouding my judgement when I say that this cupcake was almost soggy. One chew and it was a ball of gooeyness. The frosting was all good & they were beautifully decorated.
I loved that they had mini cupcakes for sale – more frosting per bite & I got to try 3 flavors in stead of 1. I loved the ambiance in the store, & the server was as sweet as the cupcakes. I loved Snohomish, I loved meeting Tammy, I loved my crepe. I also loved the drive up & back across the countryside – through Monroe, Duvall & Carnation. I really do live in a fabulous place.
One very happy Friday!
It’s true. Every now & then I eat fast food. Every now & then I *love* to eat fast food. I suspect that you do too, although maybe you don’t admit it so freely. Or maybe you shout it from the rooftops. I gleefully share even my fast food odysseys with the world. They are part of who I am. Regardless of the reaction this may elicit from others. This past couple of weeks have been difficult. Stressful and filled with tears. It’s been a week under siege – akin to doing ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Or maybe Mohamed Ali. Yeah, like that. It’s times like that when I turn full-tilt to comfort; and I find {some} fast food a comfort.
First up was Panda Express. I’d never been, but I wanted to go because Brianna wanted me to, and since I love Brianna more than most things in this world, I didn’t need any other reason. I am sad Brianna lives too far away to have come with me. Panda Express is Brianna’s favorite Chinese food. Fast, yes. Cheap, yes. As good as most Chinese I’ve had in the US, yes. It was the perfect plate of fast, cheap, tasty, filling comfort food before heading to the movies with Nancy. Don’t tell me you’ve never done that. And enjoyed it.
Then there was Pizza Hut. By Thursday night I was so exhausted I was actually day-dreaming about a Personal Deep Pan Hawaiian Luau pizza from Pizza Hut while I was still hammering away at the office. So I stopped in on the way home. It was awesome. So awesome I downed one & was back begging for more. Two pizzas. If you’ve never done that, I highly recommend it. Not all the time, of course. Just in an emergency. I’ll only do it when things get really tough. Then it totally hits the spot. And the gal who served me made me feel like a million dollars, and I can tell you I really needed that.
I’m done with fast food for a while now, but I’m glad they exist – they definitely have a place in my world.
Last weekend, which seems like an absolute age away now, I stumbled out of my office after another night sleeping on the floor & was determined to go have a darn fine breakfast. Preferably somewhere that had electricity. And no snow. Eastlake seemed a likely candidate. My HR dude at work had mentioned that 14 Carrot Cafe was a top notch spot for a breakfast, and he is rarely never wrong about anything. Plus, he is, you know, my HR dude, so I don’t like to disagree with him. I think things turn out better all round if you don’t go against your HR dude.
Somehow I woke up terribly late. This is odd since I was sleeping on the floor rather than in my plush, feather-bedded, 600-thread count cocoon at home. When I finally regained consciousness, my back was killing me & it was 8:38. Eight-thirty-eight?? Get out of bed off the floor, girl!
Over in Eastlake it was as if the Snowpocalypse had never occurred. Seattle is like that. Some parts were buried under 3 feet of snow, encased in ice & had lost power 4 days ago. Some parts were asking what all the fuss was about. However, when they shut down SeaTac airport, you know things are serious.
No snow in Eastlake. At least not outside 14 Carrot Cafe. Blasted chilly though.
14 Carrot Cafe is large, warm, colorful & the walls are covered in all manner of arts & crafts for sale. Very homey. Maybe that’s why I ordered Chicken Fried Steak. I can think of no other reason why I would. I mean, Chicken Fried Steak & all that gravy is just not my cup of tea, so to speak. If you remember, my first encounter with Chicken Fried Steak was a while ago. Not that it was bad, but I’ve steered clear of it ever since. It’s a culture thing.
No sooner had I planted myself firmly in a seat by the window, a young lad wandered over to enquire if I wanted coffee. “How’s your hot chocolate?”, I queried. I am not sure whether it was the too-long pause, the look on his face or my having watched too many episodes of Lie To Me, but I knew when he said, “It’s good”, that I needed to have herbal tea. He followed it up with, ‘You know, it’s just the powdered stuff.”
Thought so.
The poached eggs, were, well, poached eggs. A little on the hard side & not very pretty, but they did the trick. The hash browns were mainly un-cooked and 98.5% of them stayed squarely on my plate for the duration. The sausage gravy that came over the Chicken Fried Steak was awesome. The Chicken Fried Steak was awesome; for Chicken Fried Steak. It’s just that I really should have just stuck with an omelet or a scramble, of which they had about 3,000 different ones to choose from. Ah well. The server was lovely.
It was a large plate of warm, tasty homeyness. But it just didn’t hit the spot. I need to go back for an omelet. I really think I just didn’t make a wise choice. So what’s a girl to do? Head on over to a French Bakery up the street & see what’s going on; that’s what. HR dude had also mentioned Le Fournil as a good place for something tasty in his Eastlake foodie round-up. Ha! A plate of French pastries! That would make everything right with the world. And my mouth.
I walked into the cozy cafe that is Le Fournil, over-flowing with people, to find a pastry-case over-flowing with rows upon rows of jewel-like goodies. My heart actually started to beat faster. Hot chocolate ordered, I gazed longingly at the multitude of pastries all lined up, wondering which to try. I stuck with my go-to comparables: Pain au Chocolat & Tarte au Citron. I was so excited I could barely stand it.
Sadly, my enthusiasm was short-lived. I discovered the reason the prices were so low: the quality was not high. <Sad face> They were not bad. They were not close to bad. I just like perfection in pastries. The Pain au Chocolat was as good as many that I’ve had. The Tart au Citron was beautifully lemony. It all went a bit wrong when I got to the pastry case. It was way too thick and – quelle horreur – there was a layer of raspberry jam between it the lemon filling. And that, lovely people, is just plain wrong.
The hot chocolate was fine, the servers were lovely, the prices were amazingly cheap. Sadly, despite all these pluses, Le Fournil has not made my go-to patisserie list. However, in case I was just having an off-day, you should know that for the most part Le Fournil is highly regarded as a great French bakery, so if I were you I would swing by & try it out. Then make your own mind up.
By now almost desperate for something that would make my mouth happy, I scooted back down the road past 14 Carrot Cafe & screeched to a halt outside Grand Central Bakery. Ah. Now here I knew, *for sure*, that my mouth would be transported into bliss by a slice of Twice-baked Chollah. Done.
I was not disappointed. I sat there for ages, supping tea & breaking off pieces of sticky, almondy, delightfully crusty-edged Chollah. I also played with my new gear. Because I could. Grand Central Bakery is a fine place to play with depth of field & all that jazz. In peace & quiet. It’s light, airy, spacious & people tend to go armed with books & kindles & laptops & newspapers & other people. No one even noticed me fiddling quietly in the corner. I do love to fiddle in corners.
Notice how this shot (above) looks like the cup is photo-shopped onto the background? It isn’t. I promise. And I can promise that because, well, I don’t have photoshop. It’s interesting how it came out though.
So, after 3 breakfasts, I finally found one that hit the spot. Like they say, three times a charm.
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by carrie
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