Recent Stories in Food

A brief timeout from the important business of war and teh Twitter and high school sports for this bulletin: This Grace Harbor Farms Golden Guernsey yogurt, which they just started selling at Ballard Market and I'm going to assume the other Town & Country markets, is freaking delicious.

Because it's non-homogenized, the cream rises to the top of the yogurt. "You can scoop the cream off and use it like butter, or stir it in," says the package. YES PLEASE!...

Proletariat Pizza - Half Cinco, Half Margharita

They say the pizza in New York City is so good because of the quality of the municipal water used to make the pizza dough. Well, if that is true, then White Center must have some of the best water in the state. I say this because Proletariat Pizza is some of the best I have ever had in my life. Though to be fair, I should point out that I have never been to New York. But based on online reviews, I'm not alone in thinking this way. The pizzas are consistently delicious. I have been back five times now, and not once did I finish eating and think, "It was better last time."

The pizzas are all 18-inch thin crust pies. You can order a 1/2-size of any pizza if a full one is too much. As far as toppings go, you can build your own with most of the traditional fare along with some surprising extras, like Mama Lil's peppers and Spam. However, the signature pies are all pretty good too. Personally I have tried The Favorite (Italian sausage, fresh chopped garlic, Mama Lil's peppers), The Real Hawaiian (pineapple and Spam), Margherita (basil, fresh tomato and fresh mozzarella), and the Cinco. The Cinco is my hands-down favorite, consisting of fontina, provolone, asiago, gorgonzola, and mozzarella cheeses. The full menu can be found on their website....

Time keeps ticking along, and that means that somehow, though it seems the cozy little bar on Madison just opened its doors, The Bottleneck Lounge is celebrating its third birthday. This past year has brought some changes to the bar, with their expansion into what used to be a barbershop next door, and their latest cocktail menu debuted just last week.  But that kind of change and renewal is all part of growing up.

Tonight's their big birthday party and everybody's invited.  Starting at 8 p.m., there'll be cocktails galore ($1 off everything on the Hair of the Dog Menu) and Skyy Vodka specials all night, not to mention $3 glasses of champagne for the first hour.  Come for the drinks and stay for the party favors--while you're there, be sure to entire to win prizes, including a night's stay at the Ace Hotel in Portland. 

And if you can't make it tonight, no worries; just stop by the Bottleneck tomorrow for the Oscars and wish them many returns.

Ballard's Original Pancake House is part of a nation-spanning, pancake-purveying chain, but you wouldn't know it from the old-school neon sign out front at 80th & 15th Avenue NW. Yelpers are giving it a respectable 3.5 stars, and Urban Spoon likes it 88 percent.

The first impression you get is that they're expecting company: part of the entryway is a large walled-in porch for hordes to take shelter from the weather in before being admitted to the restaurant proper. Our waiter Juliann said the weekends get a little crazy.

Inside is an expanse of tables made of blond wood ("summer camp ambiance" says Ballard Bites), seating Ballardites with sizable appetites who don't demand much from interior design. You can get pancakes, yes, but there's also waffles and crepes for those with a wandering eye. If you want to break all the rules, there's corned beef hash and more. But--and here is where the sizable appetite part comes in--the corned beef hash comes with pancakes. Just when you think you're out! They drag you back in.

The SunBreak Breakfast Team was three this day (Ballard resident Troy J. Morris sat in), and we ordered the Links & Eggs, Corned Beef Hash, and Buttermilk Pancakes (six). The pancakes came solo, but the Links & Eggs and Corned Beef came with a choice of two sides (we went with 3 pancakes and fruit). That, plus two coffees constantly refilled and a Diet Coke, came to $36, plus tip. The Corned Beef Hash was the most expensive option ordered, at $10.95, I believe....

Yesterday was National Pancake Day according to IHOP, who were offering free pancakes. The crowds of pancake dilettantes meant that was out as a breakfast option. The SunBreak Breakfast Team are not amateurs, however. Our list is deep, and on it is the University Village Burgermaster.

Yelper Ryan sets the Burgermaster breakfast table for you: "It was a whole different scene. Old people sat, reading the newspaper, and the menu was expansive. The Burgermaster I usually go to in Bellevue is a Drive-In only, but this place is an actual restaurant."

I got the short stack, eggs over easy, and bacon; Roger got the short stack, scrambled eggs, and sausage. Both $6.99 (see menu in photo gallery). The serve-yourself Boyd's coffee was...mildly coffee-flavored. We joined a row of mostly men of a certain age, all with the morning paper spread out, at the tables next to the window.

Two retirees shuffled in. One sat down, one kept heading for the order counter, then turned. "You're not gonna eat?" he called to his friend. "You don't eat nothin'. A muffin, what's that?" He paused. "You want somethin'? Well, I'll get ya somethin'."

Burgermaster's pancakes are "fluffy," the high-rising style, and don't come around here trying to peddle your multigrain. My over-easy eggs were cooked just right, but it was hard to discern if actual eggs were involved with Roger's yellow scramble. In compensation, his two greasy brown sausage links had it all over my two dry, chewy slices of bacon. The heat lamp extracts a costly due.

At $6.95, this breakfast runs a little high given the quality, but you are paying for the University Village ambiance, don't forget. And without irony, men of a certain age need all the diner-style breakfast spots they can get.

Today about wraps up our sunny spell. Tomorrow afternoon we return to more conventional Pacific Northwest weather fare. Cliff Mass says, "On Tuesday a weather system will approach with a chance of showers later in the day. Then we switch into a cloudier, wetter pattern...but not too extreme." So if you have an "errand" to run, better get to it. And bring your camera.

You can almost smell the Fernet Branca.

I made it into Tavern Law for the first, belated time last night. The neo-speakeasy with an "encyclopedic drink menu" opened back in August 2009, but I get grouchy in crowds of sightseers, so I kept putting off a visit. That may have been a mistake. Their cocktail list makes for fine reading, and the talent behind the bar is first-rate.

I've been on a Fernet Branca jag for about a year and a half now--purely medicinal--so I asked barman David Nelson for a Kemper House cocktail to begin with. It's a lighter take on Fernet Branca--whose  secret ingredients Jamie Boudreau says include "myrrh, chamomile, cardamom, aloe, gentian, and peppermint [...] definitely saffron"--that in a solicitous way restrains rather than amplifies the crush of bitter flavor.

After a plate of roasted brussel sprouts and turnips (a vegetarian dish, in my mind, with the bacon just as a garnish), I asked David for something else in the Fernet Branca line, adding that I was a fan, by way of encouraging him to throw some high heat.

He delivered a drink in a highball glass, manly looking below (glaciers of ice in a dark, molasses-looking liquid) with a movable feast on top (two dark cherries and an orange twist). Ingredients: Fernet Branca, angostura bitters, rum (Blackstrap?), simple syrup. In theory we were in line for the clandestine upstairs bar, but after we had received our second round of drinks, we all agreed we were not leaving the downstairs bar while David was there.

I didn't recognize the concoction, but I knew I wanted to order it again. I called Zig Zag's Ben Dougherty later to pick his mind about its provenance. "Sounds like a rum version of the Toronto," was his near-instantaneous verdict. This means that I will have to try the Toronto (rye instead of rum) as well. Well, the work is never done.

An expedition to West Seattle for a Lincoln Park getaway led me, on the way back, through the hallowed burger shack doors of Zippy's Giant Burgers. The hallowing has come early, since Zippy's was just born in spring of 2008, but there was no question from day one that the burger shack was a winner. At the moment, they've won over 93 percent of Urban Spoon visitors, and they're a solid four stars on Yelp.

The owners claim to be vegetarians, personally, which might strike you as odd. But then you probably don't charbroil over 85 pounds of hamburger a day. I can see how that might quell your appetite.

My group ordered the Zip Burger ($4.25), Zip Royale ($6.50), and the Zip with bacon and cheese ($5.50). Zippy's is a with-all-the-toppings kind of place: secret sauce, tomatoes, red onions, pickles, iceberg lettuce; but the burger is where they do themselves proud. They grind the chuck fresh each day--no frozen patties allowed. And as the pictures indicate, they taste deeply, smokily of the grill where they were forged.

The interior is tiny, and there's very limited parking in front. Regulars advise ordering by phone (206-763-7347) and getting your order to go at busy times. The guy at the counter was friendly and helpful. Payment is cash-only, but there's a small ATM that--sit down, you won't believe it--charges $0.25 per transaction. (That's right, a quarter. Not $2.50. A quarter! I almost want to go back just for the ATM. It also politely asks if you'd like to check your balance before you withdraw, to prevent overdraft.)...

Seattle's first Hard Rock Cafe, located at 116 Pike Street, is open for business today, as of 11 a.m. Josh and Audrey went on a tour yesterday (see full photo gallery); after the fact, they discussed the tech-heavy new digs, the tons of memorabilia, and the unironically awesome rooftop deck.

The third floor is home to a magnificent roof deck with views of the market and sound and populated with weatherized couches and firepits. This is the feature most likely to make you a Hard Rock Cafe regular.

Josh: Let me begin by saying that before I saw that this place was under construction, I was not entirely aware that the Hard Rock Cafe was still in business, let alone opening new stores. Score one for the themed casual chain dining economy; times aren't as tough as I'd assumed.

Audrey: According to the Hard Rock's Wikipedia page, these are the other cities getting a new Cafe this year: Costa Maya, Los Angeles (Hollywood Blvd), and Krakow. To which I say: Seattle: Slightly More Culturally Advanced Than Krakow. Even Ho Chi Minh City got their Hard Rock last year!

Josh: We had no idea what we were missing! But I wonder if the EMP was strong-arming them out of the city for all of these years?

Audrey: A knife fight between the two awaits for sure. How did the EMP not get custody of Jimi Hendrix's green hat? Which brings us to a very important topic: memorabilia, though everyone at the Hard Rock likes to refer to it as "memo."

Josh: That's what it's all about: the stories. It is also the part of the HRC experience that is kind of baffling. It's as if someone realized one day that the biggest flaw in most museum experiences is the absence of a Hickory BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger on hand. Or, that what most restaurants were lacking were sufficient distractions from the usual dining experience. This is where the revamped HRC really shines. They know that obsessive music fans can be a little introverted.

Audrey : The Hard Rock Cafe seems to be the best place to go if you don't wish to interact with your dining companions (in other words, families on vacation).

Josh: TRUE. So they answer this by setting up those booths with the family/friends/social contact avoidance devices.

Audrey: Why talk as a family if Bobby can be voting on which video should be shown throughout the restaurant, while Mom takes a handheld survey on her dining experience thus far, and Dad is on his phone having a voicemail tour of the objects around him?

Josh: The family that avoids together stays together. Those screens are perfect for the surly teen who doesn't yet have an iPhone/iPad/iPod but still wants to see pictures of "memo" on display in Fiji, where he would have preferred the family take its annual vacay....

Seattle's first Hard Rock Cafe, located at 116 Pike Street, is open for business today, as of 11 a.m. Josh and Audrey went on a tour yesterday, and here are the photographic results. Here, they chat about what it all means for Seattle.

+Russ brings us this portrait of a statue at Lake View Cemetery. Fresh from our Flickr pool--which is where your photos of Seattle should go, too. Join in!

In honor of screaming chicken day--and the offer of a free Denny's Grand Slam until 2 p.m.--we skipped the potential clustercluck at Seattle's one Denny's and headed to IHOP #612, the venerable 24-hour establishment (950 E Madison) now, the sign informed us, under new management.

The SunBreak breakfast team--RvO and MvB--came equipped with a Seattle Times to flip through and a reasonable appetite to satisfy. We hadn't experienced the old management, but new management was running a tight ship, to our eyes. Tables were clean and fully stocked, and our waiter Victoria stuck to us like maple syrup on a waffle. Granted, only two other tables were seated.

"I'm disappointed with the feeble sports coverage in a major U.S. metro area," announced Roger, brandishing the Times, to which Victoria responded, "You and me both." Placated, Roger ordered a Two by Two by Two (eggs, pancakes, bacon/sausage). I got the Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n' Fruity (essentially the Two by, but with two bacon and two sausage, and fruit on the pancakes).

Both were under $10, but I should note that "all you can eat" pancake offerings start at $4.99.

The market had climbed back to the sunny side of 10,000. Our pot of coffee was bottomless. The eggs were over easy. The pancakes, fluffy. The whipped cream on top of the cinnamon apple compote towered Everest-like. It seemed unlikely that much of it was, by any stretch of the imagination, healthy. I only wished I had ordered a side of toast to mop up the eggs.

Over the weekend I stopped in at the Varsity for District 13: Ultimatum, which gave me the chance to eat at Ruby's, closed for renovation the last time I visited the Ave. Just across the street from the Post Office, Ruby's used to look like a dorm basement that had fallen on bad times, but after being turned on to the rice bowls, I learned to ignore the sketchiness (which makes me just like 78 percent of visitors, I guess).

A few months after renovation, I almost didn't dare walk in. Why would such an upscale-seeming spot be serving my delicious rice bowls? A full bar gleamed. The lights were low. I was seated (another first!) and ordered a Manny's while I perused the menu. The tables, happily, were still mismatched.

There was a red coconut curry rice bowl (with pineapple) that caught my eye at first, but eventually I settled on the yellow curry dahl. "We're out of spinach," the bartender/waiter told me. I fixed him with the van Baker stink-eye. "I guess we could use some of the fresh spinach for the salads," he said, displaying a sterling brand of adaptability. Ah, problem solved. In a few minutes, a bowl as big as my head, piled high with curried rice, potatoes, and spinach was plunked down. You can choose your carne (or tofu) and the price varies accordingly. My chicken version came to $9. Lamb I seem to recall being $11? There's also salmon, in between, price-wise.

"2009.276 - One Drink Too Many" by Shawn McClung, via the SunBreak Flickr pool.

Denver has been stripped of its "Drunkest" crown, but the majority of the top ten are still located in the West, with the bottom ten mostly being in the East (one exception: those Mormons in Salt Lake City, of course).  Seattle comes in as the 64th-drunkest city, with Portland out-drinking us at #40.  The rankings come from stats like "death rates from alcoholic liver disease, booze-fueled car crashes, frequency of binge-drinking in the past month, number of DUI arrests, and severity of DUI penalties."  See the Men's Health website for a more in-depth explanation of the data they use. 

And while you're there, check out the map of last year's rankings.  It's confusing and counterintuitive, but consider the numbers in a backwards fashion--so Denver, last year's #1 drunkest city, shows up with an overall rank of #100.  Or as Men's Health puts it: "For the overall ranking, a lower ranking is better. That is, a city ranked No. 17 is less drunk than one ranked No. 89. For the individual criteria, however, a higher ranking is better. So a city ranked No. 92 for DUI has fewer drunk-driving arrests each year than a city ranked No. 3."

In that case, last year Seattle came in at #79 (the 21st-drunkest city) and Portland was right there with us at #80 (the 20th-drunkest city).  So Portland is now twenty slots less drunk than in last year's survey, and Seattle's moved down the drunken list past a whopping 43 cities?  I'll drink to that.

Generally speaking, I avoid beer festivals. They're always crowded, usually overpriced, and often the beer list isn't all that different from the top two shelves found in one of the many beer shops around town. Belgianfest, however, took no arm-twisting at all for my attendance.

Twenty-five Washington breweries--an impressive figure on its own--came together for one day to showcase a common love: Belgian beer. To have this many breweries on hand offering up their take on over fifty different Belgian style beers is a dream come true. And to top it off, also in attendance were Dante's Inferno Dogs, Bluebird Homemade Ice Cream, and oh-my-god-amazing Sweet Iron Waffles.

First, the space. The Engine Room at Georgetown Studios (the original Rainier Brewery in Georgetown) was the perfect space for this festival--a large, airy room with sky-high ceilings and lofty windows filling the festival with natural sunlight. This made the crowd only more happy to be here.

The only downside to this festival was the epic fail of restroom planning. Hundreds of people drinking ten healthy samples each of beer equates to a hell of a lot more than the two single-stall restrooms on the premises. Luckily, the Jules Maes Saloon across the street was very accommodating to the folks who simply could not wait to do their business. To their credit, the organizers did realize the error of their ways and ordered up a truckload of porta-potties for the evening session....

Ah, breakfast. It sits right at the heart of mealtime ironies: widely considered essential for a healthy day and almost universally skipped by everyone beyond the age of ten.

The gap between importance and neglect is probably due to a traditionally narrow range of breakfast options. Let’s face it, not much has changed in the morning meal in the centuries since someone discovered that an egg can be scrambled, fried, boiled and beaten, and bacon and sausage come from our friend the pig.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when our friends at vegetarian-oriented Café Flora invited us in to try out their new breakfast menu, now being served every day during the week, 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., with their always popular brunch still going strong during the weekend.

The restaurant has been serving weekday breakfast since the beginning of the new year, and MvB and I, who sampled the Flora breakfast menu this morning, were told that business is steadily growing.

The coffee, from Stumptown, was the perfect eye opener. Michael remarked that it was hard to tell it was drip. The compact breakfast menu features seven items, four egg scrambles, a breakfast quesadilla, biscuits and gravy, and an old-world-style porridge served with dried fruit and almonds. The menu also includes a fruit parfait, a cinnamon roll, and a fresh pastry....

I believe the Pale Ale standard was set back around 1990 (like so much local rock music) by Sierra Nevada's now-classic green label offering. So it's with a mix of skepticism and excitement that I greet any new Pale—even those originating in the beervana that is the PNW. Append Pyramid Brewing Co.'s name to the style and I'm even more divided.

The Seattle-born macro-micro has done IPA, Hefeweizen, and apri-hefe amazingly well for years—setting standards of its own—but its other labels, especially seasonals, are either less memorable or short-lived. (Curve Ball was once a Kolsch; Coastline died; Broken Rake died; etc.) So, Pyramid's new spring brew, Fling Pale Ale?

Sounds like an advertisement of its tightrope existence.

The press release claims, amid its loquacious superlatives, "a big, fresh hop nose followed by the perfect blend of malt sweetness and hop bitterness." And hey, it nails the latter half. I didn't detect much of any aroma after popping an advance bottle, but Fling does piggyback a very nice, crisp hop bite on an initially, briefly, sweet flavor. The first few swallows didn't do much for me, but a lingering, tongue-coating bitterness grew stronger with each (modest) gulp....

Amy Vanderbeck, her sister Katy, and Daniel Perry, all graduates of the Vivace empire, built Watertown Coffee on the grave of Coffee Animals, on 12th Avenue just south of Seattle University.

They opened in early 2009, and look to have been squirreling away board and video games in the cavernous interior ever since. (After months of "meaning to stop in," I was challenged to a ping pong tournament on their new table. The less said about that, the better, although the bourbon and hot apple cider took some of the sting out of defeat.)

There's Vivace coffee, a real bar, and a sandwich/soup/salad food menu. The "rec room" atmosphere--seriously, besides board games, there's an Xbox--surprises people expecting a standard coffee shop, and people used to Starbucks' consistently genial service are clearly taken aback by the staff's "attitude" and the music volume that's at the whim of the barista. (For better photos of the interior than an iPhone can provide, click here.)

Yelpers and Urban Spooners are divided into love it/hate it, and it's-just-a-coffee-shop-relax camps. However, if you are sensitive flower and need quiet study time, you might want to try somewhere else. That is not the aim of Watertown, which has a clubhouse vibe, and where--if you consistently miss ping pong returns and have to chase the ball as it thwocks and pwocks across the room--the baristas won't glance at you twice.

Last night, the members of the South Warsaw Street Social Club assembled at an eatery called Taste of Chicago, at 52nd Avenue and University Way NE. The majority of the club's members were from Chicago, and boasted names that ended in "-ski." Their plans to visit Taste of Chicago, announced on Facebook, had triggered a flurry of responses from other Chicago transplants along the lines of "I've got my coat on! Where is it?"

"Realistic, from the good food to the lame decor," was the verdict. The club sampled a gyro ($5.75), an Italian combo ($8.50, combining the gustatory pleasures of the Italian beef sandwich and Italian sausage sandwich), and cheese fries (cheese $0.50, everything comes with fries), and--between discussions of Wisconsin ski resorts and the cost of heating oil--plans were made for a return visit. The menu's low-end entrée seems to be bratwurst ($3.50) and it tops out at $8.50 items. Onion rings are $2.50.

Taste of Chicago has a new co-proprietor who arrived in town in October. "How do you like Seattle?" a table asked him. He shrugged. "I don't see anything but the restaurant. I wake up, I come here, I go home."

Here is a squat shoebox space with one of those hanging-tile ceilings you suspect has asbestos on the reverse, a linoleum floor, and a counter at the far end from the door. Chicago memorabilia--a painting of the skyline, a photo of the American Giants--hangs from the walls. Above the cashier is a genuine plastic diner's order board; a plastic menu is also taped to the counter. On one table sits a chess set, with foot-tall wooden pieces. On another, a Connect 4 game....

When Seattle Magazine decided to throw a street food extravaganza, it sounded like a great idea: tons of mobile food carts, collected together in one place, providing mini-bites.  What could possibly go wrong?

But the first Mobile Chowdown, held last October, turned out to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions: poorly organized, misused space, crazy-long lines, and carts running out of food.  It was a post-apocalyptic hellscape *thisclose* to being The Road.  Everyone I know who went took one look at the mess and left.  Those who stayed suffered. (Seattle, the only city in the world where folks will patiently wait in line for hours, and then complain.)

Tomorrow (11 a.m.-3 p.m.) marks the second attempt, and word is that this time around, organizers have taken steps to ensure it runs a little more smoothly.  The site's the same--the parking lot at 1616 W. Vertona--but now the carts will be spaced farther apart to keep the space organized.  There will also be more staff on hand to help direct people, more clearly designated vendor line areas, and plenty o' port-a-potties.  Because yes, even that was a problem last time around. ...

Jennifer Katzinger (Photo: Rachelle Longé)

"I had been exposed to gluten-free at a juice bar in Greenlake years ago, and I was baking there and I really had fun working with all their different flours, and so I was just familiar with other grains," Jennifer Katzinger said. "And so I just got thinking, there are so many baked goods you can get in the Northwest, but finding a baked good that is with whole grains, or dairy and egg-free was hard. Organic too. Hence the Flying Apron."

Katzinger and I were sitting in the corner of the Walnut Street Coffeehouse in Edmonds, her nine-month-old daughter Lily, wearing a white knit sweater, playing on the seat between us. Charming and enthusiastic, Katzinger was telling me about the genesis of her vegan, gluten-free bakery, which she opened with her father in the University District in 2002. Eight years and two moves later, the Flying Apron is still going strong, and in addition to recently becoming a mother, Katzinger is now an author: in November, Sasquatch Books published her first cookbook, Flying Apron's Gluten-Free and Vegan Baking Book ($21.95).

A Northwest native, Katzinger grew up baking. In her early teens, she was already working at Lake Street Bakery ("That was a warm and cozy and delicious atmosphere, and I felt so safe there"), but after getting her BA in English Lit at the UW, she pursued a degree in industrial design at the Pratt Institute in NYC before returning to Seattle. When her and her father, both in need of new career directions, decided over coffee one morning to open the Flying Apron together, the concept wasn't as expressly gluten-free as it eventually became. While Katzinger was an on-and-off again vegan, originally the bakery featured a couple items that used egg and dairy--the idea was to have something for everyone, and the gluten- and wheat-free products were as much a creative touch as a conscious choice.

What led Katzinger to purge her work of gluten and wheat was the ecstatic response of customers. Wheat and gluten intolerance are actually common allergies, and on top of that, there's Celiac disease, in which wheat gluten wreaks havoc on the small intestine. The responses of her customers, some of whom would burst into tears when they found themselves in a bakery they could actually eat at, deeply affected her.

"The symptoms are so broad and different," Katzinger told me of the various stories her customers have shared. "One woman, a really beautiful woman who'd come to the bakery often, she traveled for work a lot, and she had been gluten-free for a long time, and had to go to Italy on business. And she thought, 'What the heck? I'm going to have the lasagna.' And for her, it was actually something like a schizophrenic type of situation. She had an episode, and just realized she can't go down that road."

"And other people, it just took them so long to be diagnosed Celiac. I remember this young woman coming in, I think she was going to the UW, and for years she was going to the hospital with digestive issues. And they would say, 'Oh, you need to eat more bran.' And so she would eat more bran and keep going in, and they would say, 'Oh, I think maybe you have something mentally going on, because we don't see anything wrong with you, and yet you keep complaining about your digestive issues.' So they put her on anti-depressants, and she went to Bastyr after that, where they did an allergy test and a Celiac test, and said, 'You have Celiac, there's no reason for you to be on anti-depressants.' So there's some really unusual stories out there, but in the U.S. they're pretty common. I think it takes, on average, 11 years to be diagnosed with Celiac's disease."

In order to create the rich variety of tasty baked goods that have garnered her attention, Katzinger experiments with and uses a wide-variety of alternative flours and sweeteners. Her list of staple ingredients includes at least nine flours: brown rice, garbanzo bean, buckwheat, teff, quinoa, corn, fava bean, chestnut, and hazelnut. Her goods are also organic and avoid most highly-processed ingredients; she doesn't use standard sugar, and many recipes call for non-sugar sweeteners like agave syrup, maple syrup, or concentrated fruit juice.

Katzinger also tries to locally source as much as possible. Asked where she came by hazelnut flour, she exclaimed: "Holmquist Farms! They sell hazelnuts and hazelnut oil and hazelnut flour at the farmers' markets! And I think they're in some of the grocery stores, now."

The recipes in the book range from sweet morning pastries to cookies to cakes to breads. Asked whether any of the recipes were particularly meaningful to her, she told me, "The pecan pie recipe is very special, because my husband was very involved with that one. That was early on, when we met each other, that we did that recipe together. I met him through the bakery, actually. He was a customer, and he would come to the take-out window in the University District frequently, and we just became friends. I was going to delivery my very first wedding cake, and I was really nervous about it, just kind of sharing this with him not so much to invoke an invitation to help, but in any case, that's indeed what happened. He said, 'Can I give you a hand with that?' And I took him up on it, and we had a great time."

For eight years, the Flying Apron was Katzinger's life, and in some ways the cookbook represents the apex of that career. "I dedicated the cookbook to Lily," she said, looking down at her daughter, who'd long since let all her toys slip to the floor and was now playing with a saucer, sitting in her mom's lap.

"I wrote it while I was pregnant with her, and finished it right before she was born. And since her arrival, it's just completely changed me. Before she arrived, the bakery was what I gave my all to, my absolute all to. Since she's been in the world, it's been a wonderful experience, but it's been hard to give my all to the bakery and to give to my daughter, which is what I want to do. I didn't see that coming. I mean, I knew I'd love being a mom, but I had no idea how powerful that is."

She smiled at her daughter, who'd given up on the saucer and was now pawing her mom's face. "So I've actually just sold the bakery, believe it or not. The first day of my not being the owner was January first."

Katzinger is remaining on as a recipe consultant, developing new recipes when not dedicating herself to parenting. For her, it's apparent that the joy of baking is no longer the only reason to continue her work--today, Katzinger seems as inspired by the need for food like hers as the joy she gets from creating it.

"In my young adulthood, there were times when--I wasn't allergic to food, but I made choices: to be a raw foodist at one point, a strict vegan at others," she told me. "And actually, I was unhealthy for a while, someone with real food issues. So while I don't know what it's like to have Celiac, I know what it's like--and this by my own choice, so there are differences but similarities, too--I know what it's like to be an outcast with eating. And how painful that can be. So for people who have allergies, or Celiac, I'm excited to share with them these recipes that I think so many people will enjoy, so they can have a table that's abundant, full of sharing of food and stories, and that's inclusive."  

Near the end of October (thank you, CHS), Zhivago's Café (Facebook) opened on Broadway, where the old Dilettante's used to be. It's a piroshkis-and-more shop (including Wi-Fi), founded by Geno Sabra, who is half Russian and half Middle Eastern. I have walked past it for weeks until today, when I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a piroshki.

I ordered the lunch special (piroshki + borscht + bread roll = $7.95), and had a seat. The server had my food ready before I sat down. As The Stranger promised, the borscht was remarkable, served warm with a dollop of sour cream. The piroshkis are baked on the premises daily (Time to make the piroshkis! is 4 a.m.), and there's a variety of carnivore and vegetarian options ($4-$6), as well dessert pastries and Russian tea cakes.

I had the beef, potato, and cheese piroshki, which was perfectly acceptable, if outshined by the borscht in terms of yumminess. But don't take this as a review, anyway--I've only stopped in the once. Take it as encouragement to pop in the next time you're in the mood for a piroshki and see for yourself.

Two Christmases ago, I published two delicious candy recipes in a magazine printed on real paper. It’s true. You can ask my mom to show you one of her nine copies. These recipes, for soft caramels and peppermint marshmallows, are still among my holiday favorites, but since my friends did not leap at the chance to make the candies themselves, I had to wonder.

Either my friends considered it supportive enough to simply eat candy that I had already made (weak) or, perhaps the required candy thermometers proved too much for them. Time and continued interaction with non-food professionals has led me to see that most people don’t like candy thermometers--they believe thermometers to be indicative of exacting recipes, recipes that require accuracy and hold the potential for messy, sugary failure.

Luckily, there also exist easy, thermometer-free candy recipes and for Christmas, I’m going to give you one.  

It’s for almond toffee.

This toffee (you could also call it brittle, but I like to affect British-ness, so toffee it is) is basically a classic butter toffee with toasted almonds mixed it. It can be dipped in a chocolate glaze, or left plain--it’s delicious either way. It’s also quite fancy-looking and can be happily packed into bags and boxes to be given away as presents.

Now, I would be lying if I didn’t warn you that candy-making is different from other kinds of cooking for the obvious reason that it involves molten hot sugar. Try to think of this as exciting, rather than terrifying. To assuage your fears, below is a somewhat long-winded, but extremely useful overview of candy-making that a magazine would have happily cut out (many thanks, kind SunBreak editors). Below that, is the recipe itself. Enjoy.

When you make any caramelized sugar and butter/cream type candy, this is what’s going to happen. First you’re going to cook some sugar with a little bit of corn syrup and water until it comes to a boil. You’re not even going to think about stirring it. Stirring the mixture at this point can cause it to seize, meaning to turn from a liquid into a solid clump of crystallized sugar. Bad.

Next, you’re going to add a lot of butter (or in the case of soft caramels, cream); the mixture will bubble and souffle up in a way that is not un-terrifying to some, but that won’t bother you at all because you will either be using a long-handled whisk or wearing one of these babies.

Then you’re going to whisk and whisk and continue to cook over high heat until the mixture turns the a nice light amber color. You’re going to add a couple last minute things and then, carefully and without burning anyone, you are going to pour the candy out onto a sheet pan that you have already prepared. Done. Now relax.

Also: I’ve just been informed that the caramel and marshmallow recipes are no longer available on the ReadyMade site. If you want ‘em, just say so in the comments....

Much in the way that Christians gather at church on Sunday morning to refresh their connection with God, our city's expatriates gather on Sunday mornings at bars to refresh their connection with their place of origin. The vehicle: Rooting on their hometown NFL team.

I arrived at Bill's Off Broadway around 10 a.m. to find a table of four Indianapolis Colts fans, two tables of Green Bay Packers fans, a Broncos fan, and a Bears fan. All were easily identifiable by their team-specific clothing.

There was also a guy watching the Baltimore/Detroit game. Didn't see what he was wearing, but as I didn't hear much cheering from him, and Baltimore won 48-3, I assume he's a Lions fan. (Poor Lions fans may actually have forgotten how to cheer at this point. When the team gets good again they'll probably shred their atrophied vocal cords attempting to elate.)

I was there to watch my Seahawks, and it soon became clear that these Seahawks are so irredeemably horrible that they can't even compete with the Houston Texans. A...

If there's anything better than drinking top-notch craft-brewed beer in a comfy neighborhood pub, it has to be making your special someone happy. While drinking delicious craft-brewed beer.

So the best place to be this evening—hell, this chilly gift-giving season—is Greenwood's new-ish Naked City Taphouse. Three reasons why:

1. 20+ taps of Washington's finest nectar for your imbibing, body-warming pleasure.

2. First-ever taps of the Naked City owners' own brews (Exhibit A: "White Russian Imperial Stout aged on Kahlua-soaked oak." Aptly named Big Lebrewski. Um, yum.)

3. Nifty artisan-crafted wares your lady or guy friend (or yourself) would love to unwrap on Christmas morn.

They call it Naked City Brewtique. Apparently booths will be set up inside the pub, where you'll find fine jewelry (some courtesy of SunBreak Jack's talented wife), greeting cards, "beer-inspired" soaps, and etched pint glasses. Cool stuff.

Craft sales start at 5 p.m. Ditch work and drop in for a beer or three well before that. Tight wallets do not a strong economy (or happy special someone) make!