Much to the surprise of many I meet, my formative years were spent in a suburb just outside of Dallas. I am often greeted with “But you don’t have an accent” and “Did you ride a horse to school?”. I will assure you that, while Texas is indeed a very foreign-feeling place to yuppie-fied hipster city folk like myself, it’s not as backwater as you’d think. Plano is actually a very flat, boring suburb with a bizarre 50-50 mix of shiny over-the-top malls and crumbling shopping centers.

As such, good food is kinda hard to find in Plano. Most restaurants are soulless chains, and those that are independent look like soulless chains. Lots of neon, insane decorating schemes, giant vinyl-covered menus, you get the idea. When I come to visit my folks, who a few years ago moved back to Plano after a stint in Washington state, I pretty much bank on never going out, unless it’s for Korean at one of the local Asian markets, or my own mother’s reliably effing-delicious Korean dishes.

And while my mom’s a fantastic Korean cook (I’ve not yet met a dish hailing from that tiny country that matched the quality of her variations), her take on classical and American food is decidedly less homespun. Growing up, there was a lot of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, Shake ‘N Bake, and more Tuna Helper than a picky seafood-resistant child (such as myself) could handle. Thanksgiving, in my home, always meant a parched turkey, gummy mashed potatoes, Stouffer’s stuffing, and that awful jellied purple stuff claiming to be “cranberry sauce”. No disrespect to my mother, who labored alone for days to provide us with a giant spread befitting the great American tradition. But I think it’s pretty typical in a lot households to regard Thanksgiving as that holiday where you make the same stuff every year, lots of it, and in the interest of stress-reduction and time, you head to prepared box mixes and button-popping turkeys and shrug your shoulders when the turkey turns out dry–after all, that’s how turkey just is, isn’t it?

Never one to succumb to such illogical culinary rules of the American culture, I endeavored to make the entire meal–from scratch–and prove that Thanksgiving isn’t a meal you feel obligated to say you enjoy, but one that you actually do. It was me now, alone in the kitchen, cooking for eight (no one but my mom really understood why I cared so much). It was hard. I got really sweaty. But my goals, though lofty–a somewhat-juicy turkey with a burnished-gold skin, creamy mashed potatoes, a cranberry sauce that required at least some jaw movement to digest, and a three-in-one dessert that screamed “Thanksgiving! Wooo!” but wasn’t cloying–were satisfyingly, deliciously, triumphantly attained.

If I do say so myself.

Pumpkin Cheesecake with Pecan-Praline Topping

Katherine Beto, Braeburn (Originally appeared in Food & Wine, November 2008)

CHEESECAKE

One 15-ounce can pumpkin puree (1 3/4 cups)
8 whole graham crackers, broken
1/2 cup pecans (2 ounces)
1 tablespoon light brown sugar
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus more for greasing the pan
1 1/2 cups cream cheese (14 ounces), at room temperature
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
5 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup heavy cream, at room temperature
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
Pecan Praline Topping (below) and whipped cream, for serving

1. Set a rack over a baking sheet and line the rack with 2 layers of paper towels. Spread the pumpkin puree over the paper towels and let drain for 2 hours, until the puree is fairly dry.

2. Preheat the oven to 500°. Butter the bottom and side of a 9-inch springform pan. In a food processor, pulse the graham crackers until finely ground. Add the pecans and brown sugar and pulse until finely ground. Add the melted butter and pulse just until incorporated. Press the crumbs onto the bottom of the prepared pan. Bake the crust for about 8 minutes, just until it is fragrant and lightly browned. Let the crust cool completely. (Note: I found that in my oven the crust nearly burned at 7 minutes–I recommend checking at 4 to see how it’s coming along).

3. In the bowl of a standing electric mixer fitted with the paddle, beat the cream cheese until it is very smooth. In a small bowl, whisk the sugar with the salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and allspice. With the machine on, add the spiced sugar to the cream cheese and beat until creamy, scraping the bottom and side of the bowl. Carefully add the drained pumpkin puree and beat until smooth. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well and scraping down the bowl between each addition. Beat in the heavy cream, lemon juice and vanilla until the cheesecake mixture is smooth.

4. Pour the cheesecake mixture over the cooled crust and bake for 12 minutes. Lower the oven temperature to 225° and bake the cheesecake for about 3 hours, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center registers 150°; the center will be very jiggly but not liquidy. Let the cheesecake cool on a rack, then cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.

5. Run a hot knife around the cheesecake and loosen the springform ring. Carefully remove the ring and transfer the cake to a plate. Using a warm knife, cut the cake into wedges and serve with the Pecan Praline Topping and whipped cream.

PECAN PRALINE TOPPING

1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 cups pecans (8 ounces)

1. Preheat the oven to 350°. In a large saucepan, combine the butter and brown sugar and cook over moderate heat, stirring, until smooth. Stir in the heavy cream and salt and bring to a boil. Simmer just until slightly thickened, about 3 minutes. Let the caramel cool.

2. Spread the pecans on a rimmed baking sheet and toast for about 8 minutes, until they are lightly browned and fragrant. Transfer the pecans to a work surface and let them cool. Coarsely chop the nuts, stir them into the cooled caramel and serve.

I can only imagine the questions and snickers that the servers at Jon Davis’s new “equatorial” restaurant in Magnolia will be getting for years to come.

Seattle Weekly’s Voracious got the scoop–Davis managed the very popular Jai Thai chain for years, but he decided to turn in the hectic life of a Thai restaurant operator for a simpler, smaller joint specializing in to-go orders. The salacious name was inspired by Davis’s travels around the equator, where cock-fighting is sadly quite popular (he claims he randomly picked the name because, well, he had to pick something). Thus far, no cock will be finding its way into the food, which include a wide range of cuisines and their dishes, like pulled-pork sandwiches and various iterations of rice and beans.

Sounds like this place might have a fighting chance. Although I have to wonder how much more successful a place called Fightin’ Cock Roaster could be if it were located, say, on the Ave?

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From Voracious:

These cookies from Little Rae’s Bakery in South Park are quite impressive cookie-likenesses of the family-elect, wouldn’t you say? They especially nailed Michelle’s smile, I do declare. And you gotta love the rendition of the future First Pup, which no one can seem to stop talking about.

Pick up a pack for $9.95, or have some shipped for $15.95 (order online here–love that).

If you are anyone that reads food journalism, you know about the No-Knead Bread Recipe. Back in 2006, the New York Times published an article by one of my food idols, Mark Bittman, that rattled the food world. It claimed that it was not only possible, but easy, to produce a bakery-quality loaf at home.

Now, if you’ve ever attempted any sort of bread-baking yourself, you know the ridiculousness of such an assertion. No matter what, a home oven never gets hot enough–your crusts turn out sad and pallid, the texture is tough, and where-oh-where is that lovely, moist, airy crumb? Us amateur bread bakers/professional carbophytes accepted the fact that at home you could very certainly beat the pants off any conventional store loaf, but a bakery loaf could only be approximated. But I was relatively undeterred, as homemade bread of even poor quality trumps foamy-spongy white junk in every case that I’ve experienced.

And so, after absentmindedly polishing off the last crust of a squat and homely loaf, I’d head off to the bakery (Bakery Nouveau being Seattle’s best) for the real stuff. That shatteringly-crisp burnished crust concealing pockets of velvety, chewy innards that, upon the intrusion of a bite, exhale an intoxicatingly yeasty and almost audible sigh. That is bread, and anything else, I’m afraid, is not. It can come close; it can come very close; it is not bread.

The point is that there seemed to be very finite limit to what could be achieved at home in terms of bread, and you just had to deal with it. The Bittman/Jim Lahey recipe claimed to obliterate this fact by simply throwing together a wet dough and sticking it in a pot. That’s. It.

Ever since coming upon this Holy Grail of home-baked bread, I ached to try it. However, crucial to the recipe is a Dutch oven, which I did not own. I did not go out and buy the requisite Dutch oven because I had my heart set on the Holy Grail of Dutch ovens, a Le Creuset. Les Creusets are danged expensive. But I could not settle for less–I had wanted one for too long. So my desire for beautiful kitchen gadgetry won out over my love for bread. It was a tough battle. Bread was sad. Le Creuset, bitterly triumphant.

Then Christmas 2009 came along, and my man fulfilled my enameled cast-iron fantasy. A beautiful 7 1/2-qt specimen in a fantastic gradated gray shade. Now, it was time.

Time. That’s the first thing you need for No-Knead. It’s not a lot of work to get the dough together–couldn’t be simpler, really–but it does take time. I’ll add here that I didn’t try Bittman’s original recipe; I actually went with a newer riff on the technique that was published in Cook’s Illustrated, which claimed to improve upon the original’s flavor and texture. Since nearly every CI recipe that I’ve used has knocked my socks off, that’s the one I went with. The major difference in this recipe is that it advocates for some kneading to create a better crumb, which makes sense. Kneading is what creates that great structure in most breads and pizza doughs. But the recipe is still basically no-knead–seriously, it’s just about 10 pushes of the palm, that’s it. It’s an extra step, but 

Three years ago, I left a sleepy, slow-moving college town, called Bellingham, for Seattle. I moved principally because Seattle was the only place in all of Washington that could be considered a real, bonafide city. A city city, if you know what I mean–although no disrespect to some other very populous and cultured areas in the state. After moving to the Capitol Hill neighborhood over three years ago, I can’t stop marveling at how much I’ve grown to love this city.

Not that it’s a hard city love. Nope. There’s so much to love about Seattle that I find it insane that more people don’t know about its awesomeness. You’d be hard-pressed to find a city more beautiful, for one. Water, water everywhere–and it’s pretty darn safe to drink (and anyone with a pulse will have a Nalgene bottle and/or Brita-filtered pitcher to offer you). Everything is so many different shades of green. You get a whole zoo of cute critters wandering up to your back stoop if you’ve happened to leave the trash out overnight. And on a clear day, the snow-tipped mountains stretch beyond the range of your peripheral vision, and they will blow your mind.

I must admit here and now: I am far from a granola-munching, REI-sporting, Teva-sandal-and-socks-wearing kind of girl. I like nature, I do. But at the core, I’m a city girl. I like variety. I like innovation. I like a breathless array of ethnic cuisine at the ready when I have a particular exotic hankering. I also like white linen tablecloths. And I really like a good cupcake. To my knowledge, Seattle’s natural beauty has yet to produce cupcake trees. It does, however, produce fantastic cherries, unbelievably sweet onions, unmatched specimens of salmon and crab. And those things are almost as good as cupcakes (okay, they’re better).

So I’m bragging a bit. I live in a place literally bursting with organic, local, sustainable, honestly grown food where you can still put a face to a farmer. And I also live in a place where young chefs are flocking, where new ideas about food and how you interact with it are taking root, where there’s a spirit of innovation that more famous food towns simply don’t have the freedom to entertain. In so many ways, Seattle is a perpetual underdog, somehow always on the verge of greatness but never quite getting to the big time (ask any Seahawks fan).

I say, to heck with greatness. Without the spotlight shining so brightly, we’ve got room to do almost anything we want. From underground restaurants to hilarious online cooking shows, from mega-chefs with trademarked snack mixes to an achingly authentic taco truck, from nine-course feasts to a local greasy burger joint offering the best soggy fries and health insurance, Seattle can do it all. And I’ll share it all, with you.

Never, ever underestimate the underdog.

-Shirley

It started with Guitar Hero. I tried my clumsy hands at it once night at a friend’s house, and after a frustrating few minutes of button-mashing decided it was for losers. That is, until I picked it up again, and actually hit a few notes. Before long, I could play a song without failing miserably, and I got it. It’s the quickest and nerdiest way to feeling sorta kinda like a rock star. That is, if rock stars were lanky girls with plastic instruments.

Now I’m fully hooked, with a full Guitar Hero: World Tour set-up in my tiny one-bedroom apartment. My boyfriend Micah and I have been getting pret-ty good–so good we sorta want to show off. And there are only so many nights we can beg friends to come over for such purposes.

Lucky for me, the Seattle Times reports that Guitar Hero and Rock Band are the latest craze in Seattle bars, taking the place of or sharing the stage with the local affinity for bad karaoke. Where can you live out your deepest, most secretive rock star fantasies?

Goldie’s and the Dubliner Pub [above photo via Flickr user treesandsquirrels] in Fremont, among others, now host regular “Rock Band” or “Guitar Hero” nights, and some spots — like Renton’s Pounders Bar and Grill — at least occasionally do likewise. Spectator Sports Bar and Grill in Queen Anne even holds “Guitar Hero” competitions.

 

And it’s not just in bars. Hotel Monaco downtown offers “Guitar Hero” in its lobby on Fridays, and Beacon Hill’s Grown Folks Coffeehouse has hosted game nights in the past and soon will again.

Okay, I’ve never been to Goldie’s, but from the outside, it’s pretty gnarly looking, i.e., perfect for Guitar Hero nights. That’s a must-check-out. Hotel Monaco surprises me, because that is a classy joint. I just keep thinking I’d be afraid of disturbing all the fancy rich people hoarding their shampoo samples.

If you, like many others these days, have found yourself without a job, it might be tough to find the silver lining. I have found it. And it’s Salumi.

Salumi is a frustratingly alluring place. The hours are far too short and the lines are usually far too long. Unless you work in the immediate vicinity of Pioneer Square, you’re pretty much never going to have one of Salumi’s ethereal sandwiches. Before you try ducking out early, or think you’ll make it in on the weekend, stop right there: they’re only open Tuesday through Friday until 4pm. (And really, it should be 2pm — if you try coming any later, they’re usually out of everything. One time, they were out of bread.)

But! With the free time supplied to you courtesy of a meager unemployment check, you too can finally experience the joy of Salumi. Which is what I did last week. You must get the finnochiona — a fennel-specked salami full of rich, peppery, incredibly complex flavor. Get it on their dense olive oil bread with fresh mozzarella, onions and peppers. When you get it all wrapped and messy-like in its paper, I’d recommend, if you can wait long enough, a brief pause to smash everything down with your fist. It really helps marry all the flavors.

The sandwich is so giant and dense and magnificent that one half should be enough for a satisfying lunch. The operative word is “should”, because trust me, you’ll be compelled to throw logic and your sense of fullness out the window so you can devour the other half. But if you are capable of self-restraint, the rest of the sandwich tastes even better after a few hours, and gives you something to look forward to when you’re back in your pajamas and hungrily searching for jobs. Plus, it’s a great way to stretch the cost of the meal a bit — and I’m all about cost-stretching these days.

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Sugar Shack

8056 Lake City Way

on the southeast corner of 15th Ave. NE and Lake City Way

Seattle WA 98115

(206) 523-6197

This little bakery is in a really odd place, next to All the Best Pets. It is easy to miss as you wait to make it throught that intersection. I often stop at the pet store so this place caught my eye. I’ve had coffee and muffins or cupcakes here a few times. They are delicious. Last week on my way up north to Shoreline I was thinking about lunch and couldn’t decide where to go. It’s hard to find a place that isn’t too far out of the northern travel corridor. Luckily, I remembered the Sugar Shack. I had a really fine mixed green salad with roasted vegetables. The basalmic dressing was super. It had some secret ingredient. Of course, I had to have a pastry. Their scones almost have a pie pastry taste. After a strawberry scone and coffee, I was well fortified to face the rest of the trip home.

They also have soup and sandwiches and all sorts of enticing pastries.

Gilman Village used to be a charming little jaunt over the bridge from Seattle. Issaquah has morphed into a suburban mess with chain stores but Gilman Village’s collection of old buildings is still there. The Boarding House restaurant is in one of those buildings. It’s worth the trip. They have a seasonally changing menu of sandwiches, salads, soups and house-made deserts.

I had the turkey noodle soup and wondered for the first sips what spice flavored it. I finally identified caraway. They were out of the apple crisp so I opted for the brown sugar cake with whipped cream. It was good but I still want to try that crisp. They have patio seating.After lunch wander around the shops housed in old buildings from the days when Issaquah really was the country. http://www.freewebs.com/boarding_house/index.htm

13 Coins is a little pricey, but worth every dime! It has been an institution of downtown Seattle since 1967. The interesting ambiance has you residing in high back booths, swiveling captains chairs, and an exposition kitchen where you can chat with the chefs as they cook your meal. If you are so lucky to grab one of those captain chairs, you’ll never want to go. And are you prepared for this? 13 Coins is open 24 hours a day. Go for breakfast, lunch, dinner, happy hour, or even the new meal Taco Bell has created buzz about deemed “4th Meal” aka late, late night snack.

With pages of options (from Chicken Parmesan to Crabs Eggs Benedict), it is hard to not find something to enjoy on this menu. Having gotten into the city late, we were on a hunt for anything to appease our growling stomachs but what we came across was pure deliciousness. Since it was around midnight, we all had different ideas of what to get. We started with the Gorgonzola cheesecake, which was cream cheese, baked with roasted garlic, fresh basil, Gorgonzola and sun-dried tomatoes on a polenta crust and was served with Lahvosh crackers ($12.95). Yes, it is as good as it sounds. Two of my dining companions shared the bruschetta ($9.95), which has just the right amount of garlic and the baguette was the perfect amount of crispiness. I, myself, was in late night breakfast mode. I ordered the spinach omelette ($11.95), which was accompanied by a side of hash browns. Fresh spinach was what made this omelette fulfill its duty. It was a nicely portioned plate that tasted so good, a couple forks from various members of the table wandered over to grab a bite. The service was good, but it’s the ambience that draws in the crowd no matter what the time is.

Address: 125 Boren Avenue North, Seattle

Parking is Free.

www.13coins.com