Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs

Posts Tagged ‘pesto

I’m always nervous suggesting European restaurants to our French friends. Thankfully we loved the cosy ambience and homely fare of Dinette. I hummed the tune of ‘Four Seasons In One Day‘ by Crowded House all day. Snow, sleet, wind, rain. Repeat. There were moments of brilliant light, silver beams refracted off pewter clouds.

On Olive Way in Capitol Hill, Dinette’s seasonal menu has French, Italian and Spanish flavours.

Two adjoining rooms split the bar and dining areas. Powdered blue walls were accented by a cluster of serving trays. Tangerine damask lamps and glassybaby votive candles lit the counter.

A vertical piano was in the back of the dining room and Casey MacGill entertained us with the rhythmic melodies of swing jazz.

Neutral walls and embellished pillars, I adore the simple elegance of the décor.

A functional chalkboard listed the specials in block writing.

Infused with bergamot, the Earl Grey martini was a zesty apéritif.

We shared terrine and toasts as appetizers. A slice of rabbit, pistachio and bacon terrine was paired with grained mustard and pickled rhubarb. My aversion of rabbit continues and I had one bite of the terrine spread on crostini.

A three by four grid of toasts were presented on a wooden paddle. From left to right: prosciutto, croque monsieur and pesto. My favourite was the pesto, molten Beecher’s Flagship and spicy pickled peppers.

Ms S had the rainbow trout with French lentils, ruby chard and lemon aioli which was pleasingly fresh.

A generous portion, the spaghetti carbonara was tossed with bacon, peas and topped with an organic egg yolk. Mr S twirled a forkful for me to taste and it was a robust pasta.

An apt dish for March, Ms LM’s lamb was braised in Guinness, on a pillow of mashed rutabaga, leeks and peas, and garnished with grated horseradish.

I ordered the crispy skin chicken thighs. The butterflied dark meat was well seasoned, and the cauliflower purée was creamy and sweet.

The second terrine of the meal was Valrhona chocolate with whipped cream and nut brittle.

Our dessert was a retro bread pudding with raisins soaked in Tuaca, a dollop of whipped cream and drizzled with caramel sauce.

Quality ingredients, cooked splendidly!

Pike Place Market thrives with activity in summer. Tourists queue patiently for a coffee from the original Starbucks, buskers are vying for the attention of passers-by, crowds linger at the fishmonger eager to witness a salmon throw, children climb on Rachel the Pig like an amusement park ride, and locals shop and eat in the heart of Emerald City.

When I reflect on summer in Seattle, these would be the fond memories I’ll retrieve to endure another winter. On a postcard day, I meandered down to Post Alley for a weekday lunch with La Modette. I have not walked this section of Post Alley before, an eclectic collection of trinket stores and restaurants.

My usually reliable mobile phone had ingested polyjuice potion and assumed the temperament of a diva. I could not, for it would not let me, search for the address of The Pink Door. I strolled up and down Post Alley looking for a sign when I realised there is literally a pink door. More beige than pink, two painted marble columns guard the entrance to The Pink Door.

A restaurant with free live entertainment by night (cabaret, trapeze, burlesque), a table on the terrace is highly coveted at lunch. With a panoramic view of Puget Sound, the terrace is shaded by a wooden lattice and I could easily while away the afternoon with a bottle of crisp white and nibbling on antipasti.

Service was brisk and we were seated quickly at a vinyl clothed table. We ordered a glass a house red, a generic Italian wine served in classic beer bottles. It was more than a standard drink at eight ounces!

La Modette opted for the antipasti, a generous plate of prosciutto, salami, grilled seasonable vegetables, tapenade and mozzarella.

I selected lasagna Pink Door, their signature meal. Presented in an oval baking dish, sheets of silky pasta were layered with besciamella and pesto, and doused in marinara sauce. Each mouthful was a complex blend of creamy, tangy and earthy – it was the definition of comfort food.

We exited through the anonymous pink door warmed by the sun, glowing from the vino and enriched by travel stories.


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