Seattle Adventure
The Carefree Gourmet
By Joyce McCombs
I’ve been trying to think of the best way to describe a recent restaurant experience I had in Seattle, and I keep coming back to one fact: It was simply the best food I’ve ever eaten.
That said, I want to be sure that you understand I mean no disrespect to any of the very fine eateries and the delicious food you can get here in Delta, ok?
But once in a while, especially when traveling, when you get a chance to experience food in a way, shape and form that is totally new and ultimately delicious, there isn’t much else to do about it except jump in and see what all the excitement is about. And that’s what happened to me last month when I went to Seattle for the Public Library Association conference with 5,000 other librarians from all over the country.
The week was wonderful, filled with incredible speakers and classes and workshops and authors and books and exhibitions. It was like packing three regular work weeks into one, but I didn’t mind in the least and it was energizing just to be around so many other people who loved their work as much as I do. Toward the end of the week, I had a chance to meet up with my dear friend, former neighbor and your previous Delta Librarian, Bev Moore. She was attending the conference with six of her co-workers from the Port Townsend Public Library and she called my hotel to organize dinner out one night. “Why don’t we go to Wild Ginger?” she asked me, and I could hear the excitement in her voice. I laughed and told her that would be great, especially since my brother in law, Don, worked there and I’d been hearing about it for years and years, but never had a chance to eat there.
With this auspicious beginning, things rolled along so easily I couldn’t believe it. Don, the dear boy, took the time to arrange for reservations at the very stylish time of 8:30 on a Friday evening. Even though he wasn’t working that night, he assured me we would be well taken care of. The restaurant is on Third and Union right down from the Conference Center, so on a warm spring evening, seven giggly librarians trooped down Pike street, trying hard not to gawk too much at the amazing buildings and terrific window displays. Friendly Seattle Police officers on mountain bikes whirled by in the streets, other librarians were fanning out through the city to find some dinner also, and we were excited to try Asian Fusion food at one of Seattle’s most well known restaurants.
I am not sure exactly what I was expecting at Wild Ginger, but I’d had a lot of years to build up certain expectations in my mind. I suppose I rather expected a very intimidating kind of urban clientele and very formal atmosphere. I was sure there would be a challenging menu featuring tiny portions and high prices. I also thought the food would probably be tortured into submission and fiddled with a bit too much in order to justify the atmosphere and the prices. I couldn’t have been more wrong about more things, thank goodness.
The moment we walked through the beautiful entry into the exquisitely decorated restaurant, I immediately realized my expectations were totally wrong. Here was a bustling, but not frantic atmosphere, filled with wonderful, intimate dining tables spread over two lofty levels. We were greeted at once, and how they knew who I was will forever remain a mystery, but I must say it was quite dazzling to be greeted by name at the front desk. Our table was ready in less than ten minutes and in the meantime our coats were magically whisked away and profuse apologies offered for our brief wait. We didn’t mind at all, since just being in the place was energizing and calming at the same time.
The restaurant patrons were such a varied mix – young urban professionals, families with kids, distinguished senior citizens and yes, lots other librarians. In fact, we were told they had served 400 librarians already that week, which made us think we might be on to something good. Our table was in the center room and had huge windows looking out to the city streets on two sides. It was set with perfect linen and the most beautiful pair teakwood chopsticks. A couple of us were relived to find silverware alongside the chopsticks, too. Across the street at Benaroya Concert Hall, we could see the immense and incredible blown glass chandelier by Seattle glass artist and my personal hero, Dale Chihuly, lighting up the night.
Our waiter, Fred, had the most wonderful and the deepest bass voice I have ever heard and he simply took us in hand for the rest of the evening and leading us gently down a culinary road that we didn’t even know existed. He explained how things worked at Wild Ginger – that ordering entrees and sharing was encouraged. That both brown and white rice would arrive and we should share that also. That having appetizers was part of the fun, and would we allow him to select some things for us? As we studied the incredible menu and tried to remember our manners, he took a few minutes to explain wines to those who wanted a glass, and to make sure no one was allergic to anything that might appear later. We all sort of slipped into a lovely state of mind, where being coddled by Fred seemed like a perfect idea. We stayed that way for the next three and half hours.
When the dim sum arrived, eight perfect little noodle pouches stuffed with deeply spiced shredded pork, I knew we were in for an extraordinary evening.
Steaming hot and plump, each one released an amazing fragrance and they were presented simply on a platter with a minimum of fuss. This was to be the order of the evening – elegant, delicious food, perfectly proportioned, perfectly seasoned, perfectly delicious. The dim sum made the rounds of the table and silence ensued as we all took our first bite. I tried to seem
sophisticated. I tried to act like eating world class dim sum was something I did with frightening regularity. I tried to think of a way to let people know that this morsel was so delicious I didn’t care if I had even a single bit of anything else the rest of the night. Then I looked around the table at everyone else and saw that the exact same thoughts were going through their heads, too. We all burst out laughing and started raving about the rapidly vanishing tidbits. And suddenly Fred and his assistant appeared with another appetizer.
This time it was spring rolls. Paper thin and delicately crisp, still sizzling from their very brief time in the wok, filled to bursting with very fresh, very tender minced vegetables of every description, they were a thing of beauty to admire for about thirty seconds before they too were passed around the table. The dipping sauce was dark and richly spiced, but honestly the rolls didn’t need any enhancement at all, they just needed to be eaten and savored and marveled over for the next ten minutes.
By now we were all a little giddy, and still unsure of what we were ordering for the actual meal. Fred appeared again, and asked me if we were in a hurry. I said I didn’t think so, and looked around the table to make sure. Those still enjoying the spring rolls couldn’t be reached for comment, and the rest were so deep into studying the menu that I couldn’t even make eye contact. Fred told me then that at Wild Ginger, they don’t like to rush people through the evening and if nobody needed to get to the airport or anything, he would just take charge of the pace of things, if we didn’t mind?
I hope I babbled something coherent to him, and must have since he vanished for a few moments and came back smiling with a large platter of Ahi Tuna bruschetta with pickled ginger and all kinds of other lovely things sprinkled about the beautifully presented platter.
Now, here is where I have my one regret of the evening. The minced Ahi Tuna was raw and the idea was to spread it on the toasted Italian bread croutons, but for some reason, I just couldn’t get myself to taste it. I’m fairly adventurous usually and it looked perfectly lovely, and everyone else at the table raved about the taste, but I declined, thinking that if it didn’t agree with me, I would miss out on what was to follow later. I did nosh a bit on the lovely croutons, and I fell in total love with the pickled ginger, which I’d never tasted before. It was a combination of intensely sweet and tangy hot together, a total taste explosion over the taste buds and if they’d had it for sale by the truckload, I would have been first in line to buy some to ship north. But the raw tuna passed me by, so I can only say that by all reports, it was delicious, and that next time, I will be sure to sample some.
Fred returned after we’d calmed down a bit from the joy of the tuna experience, and he spent the next few minutes patiently taking our entrée orders and answering questions about ingredients and portion sizes. He then left us to our conversation, which continued to revolve around what we had just eaten and how excited we were to eat some more. Presently those who ordered wine received their glasses full and as each diner tasted her portion, the rave reviews began all over again. Those sipping had ordered different kinds and vintages and the universal opinion was that it was all delicious, especially the red wine which had such an intense bouquet that it reminded one of sipping the nectar of fresh cut spring flowers.
As I mentioned, there were seven of us dining and our intention was to share our entrees. After much contemplation, I told Fred I was choosing the oysters wrapped in bacon and he beamed with happiness and said “excellent choice”, which was rather nice, but I was still cautious, and for good reason.
I’ve spoken of oysters here many times before and I will admit that I am a total and 100% oyster snob, oyster fanatic, oyster crazy person. I can tell from the first bite how fresh they are and I must admit I’ve been disappointed several times in restaurants in the past. I had high hopes though, since we were in Seattle a literal stone’s through from oyster beds, and the rest of the food had been so world class. Well, I can tell you for sure that Wild Ginger’s oysters had only recently given up their shells, and I mean minutes before, not days before. In fact, they tasted exactly like the oysters I grew up picking right off the beach and tossing onto the barbecue at Union, on Hood Canal. These oysters were cooked perfectly, not dried out in the least and so juicy and plump that even Bev decided to have a taste, brave soul that she was. They were not heavily breaded, or deep fried into oblivion, but lightly coated to enhance their delicate flavor and the lean bacon wrapped around them was crisp and not greasy. Six came in my order and after two I was deliriously happy to have eaten them and only a bit reluctantly sent the platter around the table to share.
Other items that appeared in succession via Fred and his very capable assistant were an extremely tender and delicious Mango Pork, done in a lovely dark sauce that balanced sweet, sour and bitter in perfect harmony. Bev’s Seven Spice Beef literally melted in our mouths and had the added bonus of flavor layers that only revealed themselves after careful tasting – we couldn’t figure out how the chefs had achieved that, but we were certainly glad they had. Fragrant Duck, a house specialty, had none of the gaminess that duck can sometimes have, and was fork tender from it’s long and gentle roasting, and falling off the bones. It really was fragrant with spices I cannot name but truly enjoyed. Exquisitely fresh scallops arrived on bamboo skewers, grilled to perfection and with a side sauce that was light and gingery but didn’t over power the delicate seafood. One vegetarian dish, pea pods and mushrooms, still has me mystified. The meaty, mixed variety of mushrooms were cooked to perfect tenderness, but the peapods mixed in, so very hot and steaming upon arrival, had retained their crispness - something I think only the most experienced wok master can achieve. I have failed with pea pods so many times and ended up with a limp and tasteless mess that I don’t even buy them anymore, but now I know that the best ones live in the kitchen at Wild Ginger. And finally, a dish called Monk’s Curry, filled with sweet potatoes, eggplant, and an amazing assortment of very fresh vegetables, was flavored with the best balanced curry I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. No bitter edges, only the smooth harmony of the complex, deeply pungent curry supporting the vegetables – it was truly perfection.
We did our best for over three hours, tasting, sharing, marveling at how each dish owned it’s own distinct flavor, how each platter was beautifully presented and not overly fussed with, how Fred managed to appear at exactly the right time through the evening. When we could come up for air and look around, we saw an amazing cross section of people enjoying the atmosphere and food at Wild Ginger. It was what I imagine being in a European café would be like, only it’s thousands of miles closer and the menu features so many of the very best things the Northwest has to offer.
As the platters were cleared and the wine finished and the restaurant began to quiet down, we sat in a rather reverential silence for what we had just experienced. Nobody could really think of anything to say and there were a lot of contented sighs and slightly goofy smiles around our table. Fred’s assistant came by one more time to ask about dessert and everyone just groaned in happy agony. And then, he came over to my chair, actually knelt on one knee so he was at eye level, looked at me and said these words: “Fresh Blackberry and Cream Sorbet”. I didn’t know whether to kiss him or hit him. We all nearly fainted at just the sound of such a tasty treat and we lamely insisted we just couldn’t eat another bite. But then someone and I won’t say whom, but she adores anything blackberry related and she lives in Alaska, offered this solution. “How about one order and seven spoons?”
So that is how we finished our meal. A huge bowl of sorbet, laced with bits of frozen cream, arrived on a platter with seven spoons. For people who had just been eating for over three hours, it didn’t seem like anyone had that pesky too full feeling
anymore and we dug in like we were starving. The sorbet was like biting into the freshest, coldest, iciest blackberry you can imagine. The frozen cream smoothed out and sweetened the acid bite of the sorbet and once again, balance was restored.
All that remained was the bill. It wouldn’t have mattered what it was, and we all knew it had been an evening we would never forget, but still, we had to settle up. It was only with a small bit of apprehension that we studied the tab, and we were stunned at the final amount. Remember, there were seven of us dining. We had three appetizers, seven entrees and five glasses of wine and dessert. Wild Ginger is a world class, world famous restaurant that counts celebrities, royalty, government officials and all kinds of important people among its clientele. We honestly hadn’t looked at the prices on the menu that closely, but had only ordered our hearts desire.
Ready? The final bill was $145. We were really stunned. I’ve had dinners for four people in Fairbanks that cost more than that, without wine or dessert or appetizers. We checked the bill again. Fred had brought us the three appetizers, but according to our bill they were on the house. By this time we were so overwhelmed with the food, the service, the atmosphere, with everything that we couldn’t think of anything else they could do for us except maybe come back to our hotels and tuck us all in for the night. We tossed in what we owed for dinner and then decided to round things up to $200 and call it good, though since I’ve worried even that wasn’t enough. I’ve never left a tip that large before, but then again, I’ve never had a meal or service like that before either. My thanks to Fred and his assistant (whose name I have conveniently forgotten in all the excitement) and to my dear brother in law The Donald, who made the arrangements and who also made seven new and insanely devoted customers for Wild Ginger. If you ever get a chance to eat there, please do, and please, oh please, be sure to tell me what you order!
