Eating Out

Since our 8-year old learned to talk, he has been asking questions, nonstop, about the substance and meaning of everything imaginable. Good questions. Questions that deserve thoughtful answers.

"Mom, why do people do drugs?" he asked out of the blue the other day. We were walking up to Big Howe and I was adding items to my mental to-do list (a list with wavy edges and disappearing ink).

"Boredom, maybe?" I said vacantly.

"Well, if they're bored, they should try something NEW, like a new Italian restaurant," he said, gesturing in perfect imitation of an old coot. "Not DRUGS."

"Indeed," I said. I wonder what the teen years will hold for him, and us. (Can I have that in writing, young man?!)

It wasn't boredom but friends who introduced me to three new restaurants this week. Each experience was satisfying if very different.

First was a visit to Opal by a few of us market organizers after our Grand Opening last Thursday. At 7:30 pm or so, there were only a few tables open (a good sign), and I was attracted -- sentimentally -- to the northwestern corner where in former Banjara days, the staff hung out. I miss that staff. I miss their food, especially the sizzling tandoori salmon and the saag paneer and cilantro chutney. Living a few blocks from an Indian restaurant (even a spotty one) was an excellent thing. For many months I have been miffed at its chi-chi replacement.

But now I've tasted the chi-chi and I'm a little less miffed.

A lot less miffed.

Eating at Opal is synesthesia on a plate (or an ovoid platter, to be exact). We ordered a variety of small and slightly less small items, and oohed and aahed from A to Z. Our rapture was fueled in part by the celebratory mood and the champagne we were drinking, an off-menu bottle whose make is lost to me, but tasted deliciously of lemon peel.

No doubt much of the enjoyment of a meal is the company, and if you can arrange to share Opaline bites with a couple of erudite, funny, and easy-on-the-eyeballs companions, by all means do so. Don't come ravenous, though.

Had we been hungrier, the evening would have cost a fortune instead of a small dowry. We shared among us:

Seared Foie Gras and Diver Scallop
Hudson Valley Foie, Seared Diver Scallop, Potato Mousseline
Aged Balsamic, Foie Nage

Seared Kurobota Pork Belly
Fennel, Apples, Crunchy Salsify, Cider Braise Drizzle

Blue Cornmeal Crusted Striped Bass
Anson Mills Sweet Corn Grits, Popcorn Shoots,
Smoked Paprika Popcorn, Lobster Essence

Duck... Duck...
Hudson Valley Breast and Foie, Leg Confit and Potato,
Fiddleheads and Favas

Grilled Beef Tenderloin
Cippollini Onion Rings, Butter Braised Rapini, Whipped Potato
Caramel Peppercorn Reduction

"PB&J"
Peanut Butter Mousse, "Berry Jam Granite",
Cinnamon Angel Food, Marshmallow, Raisin Paper

Dark Chocolate Satin
Hazelnut-Graham Crust, Pecan-Orange Torte,
Huckleberry Cream, Red Wine Caramel, Guinness Ice Cream

It was almost thoroughly divine. The only criticisms were "this scallop could be fresher," "the pork belly is a tad greasy" and "what in the HELL am I chewing on?" (a resistant little marshmallow, it turned out). All other remarks were in the "oh, my gaaawwwwdddd" category.

My next outing was a return to happy single-girl memories (of dancing all night) at the Old Ballard Firehouse. We joined another couple and their kids for dinner at the Hi Life before taking in Ratatouille at the Majestic Bay. TIP: see the movie first and then go out to eat, inspired by its culinary theme. This is one of those Disney movies adults can really enjoy.

The Hi-Life is one of Chow Food's restaurants, but the menu is much larger than the 5 Spot's, and the setting -- well, you can't beat those enormous firehouse ceilings, exposed beams, and garage doors. The afternoon light made it look like a movie set. The ambiance suffered a bit when I picked up a wine glass on the shelf near our booth and discovered rubber chablis (a good name for a band? for a massage therapist?) inside. While the fake food was fun to fiddle with, it lowered my expectations precipitously. Maybe that's the idea?

Our kids enjoyed sitting at the bar and watching the cooks. When the food came, they sank into a booth behind us and devoured their Micky pancakes and mac-n-cheese and sauteed asparagus. (Well, not the latter actually, which became a tasty secondi at our table). Between us, we tried the roast chicken, salmon, steak salad, and pork tacos. All of which were filling and tasty, but nothing extraordinary.

Nothing like the movie's ratatouille: a dish I'm inspired to try next week with fresh tomatoes.

Today, a little further down the food chain, we tried Stell's on Third Avenue West, across from SPU. It's a modest burger joint with Greek flair. I ate a gyro. It was really, really, fingerlicking yummy. The kids ordered grilled cheese sandwiches, which were grilled perfectly, not too soft or greasy or hard, on thick white bread . . . . but two bites in, their abject blandness was evident. Cheese food. Remember that? In a brick? Ech.

We met Stell Makratzaki on our way out. He's an affable guy who seemed pleased to hear about the Queen Anne Farmers Market, and agreed to check out the produce next week.

Wouldn't it be great if QA's restaurants bought from our farmers each week? Let's get these connections going!

Tonight for dinner we broiled some salmon and threw together a saute from yesterday's market: baby white turnips, broccolini, zucchini, garlic, and fish sauce. Not bad. Not Opalesque by any stretch. If you have a good way to fix those turnips, let me know.

After the kids were tucked in, I made two rhubarb-raspberry pies (the cheater's way, with prepared crusts), one for keeping and the other for taking to Cecile Andrews' tomorrow night. She's hosting a Live Earth potluck. Can't wait!

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you're discovering in the 'hood.