Kamonegi (Seattle, WA)

When I went to Seattle last year, the number one place I was determined to eat at was, far and away, Kamonegi. I love ramen, and I had heard so many great things about the new restaurant, seeing it in both Eater and Food and Wine magazine, where the chef, Mutsuko Soma, was one of the Best New Chefs of 2019. I was eager to try it, and given it's popularity, there was a bit of a wait, so I waited next door at their sister business, Hannyatou, a sake bar. At Hannyatou, I enjoyed both warm and cold sake.

Kamonegi definitely lived up to the hype! The first thing I noticed was that the service was impeccable. The waiter I had was tremendously kind, attentive, and knowledgeable. He had a pleasant personality that made dining there extra phenomenal. The service contributed to feeling right at home.

For an appetizer, I tried the bone marrow kurokke. The kurokke was not only the best thing I ate in Seattle, it was one of those foods that make me realize how much I love the knowledge and skill that goes into creating such a tasty thing. It was beautifully balanced with nicely mild, acidic taste. I love unconventional products, including offal such as bone marrow, and Kamonegi's preparation made it appetizing and delicious, even for people who are less adventurous (my dining companion is one such person, and he was into the dish).

For my main, I had a mushroom-based ramen bowl that was a special for that week. This ramen had such a simple depth of flavor that made it really enjoyable, and I think that style-simple and delicious-is true to the core of everything they do at Kamonegi. 

Chef Mutsuko Koma seems to deeply care about the restaurant and the people that dine there, and seems equally passionate and involved in her community. There's an earnestness about her that's endearing, and that's reflected in the food and in the staff. Her authenticity makes it obvious why she was chosen for so many high accolades. It's delightful to see Kamonegi thrive with the type of joyful effort they put forth.

Kamonegi is currently open for carryout only. 

Bang Bang Cafe (Seattle, WA)

During my trip to Seattle in 2019, I stayed in a very touristy area. This delighted me, since everything was in walking distance and there was plenty to see and discover. I typically plan my trips meticulously, but an urge to be a bit more spontaneous overtook me for my Seattle vacation. During one of these "let's see what's nearby" mornings, I came across Bang Bang Cafe.

I was quite groggy that morning, and took a more casual approach to ordering. Meaning, instead of being very discerning, I ordered the first drink that looked good (a Mexican cocoa) and the first option on the menu (the Bang Bang burrito).

The cocoa had a beautiful design and the cinnamon scent came through.

The Bang Bang burrito was really something. I personally don't enjoy multiple sauces melding together; just a pet peeve. The visual effect is always unappetizing to me. The Bang Bang burrito is a huge, generous portion of scrambled eggs, beans, tater tots, covered with cheese and red and green salsa. Definitely filling and the type of satisfying hangover food people enjoy.

Bang Bang Cafe is centrally located in the Belltown section of Seattle, and the ambiance feeds into that. It was a bright place, with lots of tall windows letting in sunshine. I was lucky enough to get a seat at one of the bars facing one of these large windows, and enjoyed my food while people watching. It had the casual upscale energy of the area: modern, slightly hipster, with a simple, straightforward menu. I could totally see aspiring tech boomers coming here on a day off. 

As well as several Mexican-style burritos, Bang Bang Cafe also serves healthy-ish turkey sandwiches, bagels, and vegan/vegetarian options such as a vegan mac and cheese. Makes perfect sense, since Seattle had some of the most active, athletic locals I've seen while traveling. The menu is also reasonably priced, with items averaging $9, making it one of the easier on the wallet restaurants in the area. 

Polish Village (Hamtramck, MI)

Hamtramck is a bright, diverse part of the Detroit area that's unlike anywhere else. One of the main attractions is the broad selection of restaurants specializing in cultural cuisine, specifically Polish food. In fact, the two most well known Polish eateries, Polish Village and Polonia are right next to each other, separated only by a free parking lot.

A friend and I had the pleasure of trying the acclaimed Polonia a couple months back. My pal was craving Polish beet soup, and for variety's sake, we decided to seek it out at Polish Village. I'm going to be truthful: I haven't had much Polish food in my life, and what I have tried I didn't particularly care for. Unfortunately, the fare at Polish Village didn't change my stance.

I want to preface that I HATE being critical, but I also value truthfulness and transparency. Also, Polish Village has many strong points. Unfortunately, I don't believe their food is their biggest strength, which is disappointing for a restaurant. After all, you primarily go to a restaurant for the food.

We were very lucky that we were able to be seated immediately at peak time on a Saturday night. I wasn't expecting that, but it's always good when that happens. The table had to be wiped down as the hostess was seating us. No big deal, that happens during busy times. I did notice, however, that the host asked another server for her rag instead of using a fresh one, potentially wiping down the table with a dirty rag. So when we sat, the table surface was still wet. Not a crisis, but not ideal, either. Another small but noticeable thing was that as the host seated us, she said a server would be there shortly with bread. We never got the bread, but again, that's hardly a big deal. They were busy and sometimes small things like that slip through the cracks.

Our server arrived quickly and was sunshiny, sweet and very helpful. One of Polish Village's strengths is the staff. The service is so friendly, and their kindness and helpfulness stood out as exemplary. I ordered a coke, and received the generic cola that comes out of a bar gun. Again, not a big deal, but something culinary professionals will notice.

All of Polish Village's entrees come with a starter option. I chose the pickle soup. This was truly the highlight of my meal. I had never tried pickle soup before and wasn't sure what to expect with such a sour, briny ingredient, but Polish Village's soup was wonderfully balanced with cream, potatoes, and shredded carrots evening out the flavor. It was absolutely delicious and unique.

My companion was equally pleased with his beet soup. He let me try a spoonful, and I agree the flavor was lovely. The beet soup had the savory flavor of roasted red beets. There was love in both of those soups and both were quite special. However, the rim of my friend's soup bowl was dirty. This is a pet peeve of mine, as it only takes a moment to wipe the rim of the bowl but elevates the presentation wonderfully. It's one of those things customers expect unconsciously, as in, they don't notice it until it's wrong. It seems Polish Village has servers ladle and serve the soup, but as we saw earlier, the servers carry rags to clean the tables, so it'd be an easy improvement to have them clean the bowls upon serving as well.

For my main, I ordered schnitzel, which is ground pork that's breaded and fried. I had never tried schnitzel before and had an open mind. Truthfully, when the plate was put in front of me, I was disappointed. All of Polish Village's entrees come with sides of mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, and green beans. The very first thing I noticed was that the gravy on top of my potatoes had congealed somewhat, a clear indicator that it had been sitting in the window waiting to be served for some time. When I tried it, I felt the gravy tasted bizarre-it had a weird metallic taste. As I tried the other components and came back to the potatoes, they had hardened to an inedible texture. The schnitzel itself was satisfactory. It was simply flavored with onions, and remained moist with a fine texture. I suppose I'd hoped the coating would be a little crispier (that's what I associate with the frying technique) but was closer to a soggy shake and bake topping. The green beans' only fault was that they clearly came out of a can. This isn't disastrous, it's cost effective-but there's no real way to hide that canned taste without effort. The sauerkraut was flavorful, but to be fair, I don't eat much kraut on it's own to begin with, so I didn't have a strong opinion on it. 

I generally don't eat Polish food because I typically find it bland and uninteresting, and this experience remains true to my impression. It's not horrible, but its convenient and uninspired. It's the school cafeteria style food your grandparents love and are loyal to, but at a higher than warranted price point. It shares the essence of diner food, at the slightly higher price point of $12.18 per entree on average. Polish Village is well loved in the community, and I'm not taking that away from them. I am saying not everyone has or wants to have a chef's palate, and there are restaurants that cater to the common people (there's no way to say that without sounding pretentious. Most people just want familiar food that tastes fine, and I think that's where a lot of love for Polish Village comes from). 

I want to end this review positively, and I will say the ambiance and mood of Polish Village is lovely and real strength of the business. There was a pair of musicians, one on the violin and one on the acoustic guitar, that went from table to table playing music for the guests. The vibe is intimate, and customers get the impression that the staff treats each other as family. It's a good value to see in businesses. 

Biscuit Bitch (Seattle)

When I was planning my trip to Seattle, I asked my friend, who was born and raised there, what were some of the restaurants I should check out. One of the first places she mentioned was Biscuit Bitch, a breakfast spot that specializes in-you guessed it-all things biscuits. Nothing on the menu is served without one. They're the staple, base ingredient of everything this delicious spot has to offer.

They have three locations; I went to the one in Belltown. The down-to-earth ambiance and clever menu were my first impressions that Biscuit Bitch was a special place. They have a charming drink menu that rivals any niche hipster coffee shop. I ordered a Seattle Fog to drink, comparable to Starbuck's London Fog, with vanilla and orange zest. The zest was optional, but I found it really elevated the beverage. It was a wonderful way to wake up in the morning. I sat at a bar facing the window and sipped while waiting for my food order to be called. 

The service style is quite chill. You order and pay, have a seat, and when your drink and food are ready, you grab it. This location was pretty small and jam packed with people, and it was entertaining to people-watch in the short interim between ordering and eating.

Everything on the menu ends in the word "Bitch" (so yeah, maybe not the best place to bring small children if language is a concern). The Easy Bitch caught my eye and was an absolute delight. It's a pretty straightforward dish, two biscuits topped with pork gravy and two gorgeously runny over easy eggs. The biscuits were thick and fluffy, with nice, crisp edges and not too dense. It was easy to see why these biscuits are the restaurant's pride and joy. The pork gravy was hearty and delicious. Putting the egg on top added the perfect touch to this wonderfully savory dish.

The plating here is simple and not pretentious. The biscuits are put in cardboard boats, easy to eat out of and dispose of. 

Biscuit Bitch was one of my favorite food stops during my trip to Seattle! I'm so envious that we don't have a location here in Detroit. If you ever head to the Pacific Northwest, this is a stop you must see. There's just no way you can miss it. The quality is phenomenal, tastes great, and the price point is very affordable, averaging $8.28 a pop. They also have vegetarian and gluten-free options for those with dietary restrictions.

Black Bottle, Seattle

My summer trip to Seattle was peppered with lots of interesting places to eat. Honestly, isn't trying new restaurants an appealing element of travel? Eager to get started after a long flight, the first place I visited was Black Bottle, a gastropub down the street from my hotel. First impression was that the ambiance was cozy and chill, with a modern vibe.

I started off with something to drink. I associate gastropubs with interesting cocktails and food, and the drink list was creative. I looked for something fruity to sip, and asked the server for suggestions. He recommended the Rootstock, which he described as "a grown up fruit punch." My first impression of the drink was that it was much more herbaceous than I expected (and honestly, more than I hoped for). I didn't like it very much, but to be fair, it paired nicely with the food. When sipped after spicier bites, the drink became more balanced and that sweeter, fruit punch taste came through much more.

I ended up trying three different things: bite-sized fried chicken, wild boar ribs, and ahi tuna tacos. It's worth mentioning that everything here is quite appetizer sized ("shareable"). The fried chicken was my favorite of the three. It was juicy, white meat, and not greasy. The crust was a nice deep golden brown color and had a good amount of salt (but not "salty", ya know?) The chicken came with a dipping sauce that had a pleasant, mildly sweet flavor. 

The wild boar ribs had a dry rub with a lovely smoky flavor. The rub built up a nice level of spiciness as I ate, which was pleasant. The texture of these was not as juicy as I'd hoped, but they certainly weren't dry. 

Unfortunately, the dish I had the most excitement for ended disappointing me the most. The ahi tuna tacos were not the meaty chunks of beautiful, deep pink raw fish I'd hoped for. Rather, they were grey, dry, overcooked sadness. Ahi tuna is one of the most delightful ingredients to work with, and while cooked preparations aren't unheard of, I believe it shines best in its raw form. But the tuna included in these tacos took a luxury ingredient and cooked it to the point where it could've been any generic whitefish (whitefish can withstand more heat and/or longer cook times, so probably would've been a better, and cheaper, protein for this application honestly). All the joy of this lovely ingredient was cooked out of it. Moving away from a technical error into more of a preference, I'm not crazy about corn tortillas, and these tacos came with two layers of tortilla, ostensibly to hold the heaviness of the fish. This is a common practice too, but again, using a less dense whitefish or swapping for flour tortillas would've avoided this. I didn't mind, but my dining partner did say he found them difficult to eat. Another issue I had was that the tacos just had no flavor. Each bite was very one-note. Unfortunately, I had one bite that was all parsley. The idea of an ahi tuna taco is good in theory, but I wasn't a fan of Black Bottle's implementation of it. I didn't end up finishing these.

I think Black Bottle is well-intentioned, but it just missed the mark for me. Its trendy and isn't doing anything groundbreaking. I'm fond of the use of creative or unconventional proteins anywhere. But I don't think Black Bottle is necessarily impressing with what their serving well enough to stand out. And while the price point isn't crazy, I don't think the quality justifies the price point (my dishes averaged $12 each).  It's a cute spot in a great location, but not something I would seek out if I went back to Seattle.

Meeting an Iron Chef: Adana, Seattle

During my trip to Seattle in June, my boyfriend at the time and I enjoyed a ton of great food (I mean, that's part of the joy of traveling. Like, a huge part). Seattle was spectacularly unplanned for me as far as itinerary, and that lack of organization trailed me up to and including the last day.

As we were enjoying views from the Skyview Observatory, we thought about where to go eat before our return flight. When in doubt, I often consult the internet (what's up Eater/Tripadvisor!). And lo and behold, I discovered that my favorite contestant from Iron Chef Gauntlet, Shota Nakajima, has a restaurant in Seattle called Adana. As soon as I realized this, I turned to the BF and said "we have to go!"

Adana has a tasting menu style, where you can choose how many courses you get (we chose three courses). Then, you can choose between two options per each course. I started off with a popular, cute cocktail called a Hello Kitty, a neon pink fruity drink with an adorable picture of the Hello Kitty character attached to the glass with a clothespin.

Adana is of the caliber of restaurant that likes to spoil it's guests with divine extras. One of these generous gifts was a fantastic taste of ahi tuna. It came with those lovely crispy shrimp chips and was absolutely heavenly. The textures and flavors were great, and this first sample was a great preview of what was to come.

Along with the tuna, we enjoyed delightfully prepared vegetable tempura and delicate blackened fish. They also gifted us with a parting cocktail and an out of this world ice cream that had a smoky campfire flavor.

I'll save the rest of the pictures for the bottom of the post (you can also peep them on my instagram).  Let's get into the meat and potatoes of this post: how I met the incredibly talented and kind Chef Shota. We were on our way out, suitcases in hand. Adana sits nested on the bottom of a set of stairs. My partner was struggling to get his luggage up over the stairs. I turned and saw Chef Shota in street clothes, Starbucks in hand, approaching. He came over instantly, without being prompted, and offered to help my partner. I was standing there, mouth agape, shocked to be in this accomplished man's presence and witnessing his kindness and humility. My partner politely declined, but we both told Chef Shota how wonderful the food was and how nice of a time we had. As he turned to go in, I blurted out, "Chef Shota, I was rooting for you on Iron Chef!" He laughed and said "thank you." He seemed genuinely thankful and appreciative. I was just floored by his graciousness and sincerity.

Working in food service, you often come across rude or difficult people. Chef Shota was kind and willing to help strangers, and that came through in his staff as well: everyone at Adana was incredible and all seemed happy to work there. There was pride and respect for everyone involved. Leaving Adana left me feeling inspired all around. The food and quality and the care within the staff that poured outward to us as guests was incredible to witness. It reminded me why food is a passion for me and why I love doing what I do.

Photo dump!

HTCEB: Oatmeal

I'm not crazy about oatmeal, never have been. But, I'm systematic, and would I genuinely be cooking through a cookbook if I didn't try things I knew I wasn't crazy about? Maybe Mark Bittman's version would be better than the other 4 or 5 times I've tried the recipe, I thought. And it was better this time, not because the recipe was bad, but because I got better tasting oats this time.

I'm not saying everyone should invest in Whole Foods, or limit themselves to higher-cost goods out of snobbery. I grew up blue collar, and the holier-than-thou, "All MY food is organic free range non-GMO non-processed..." yada yada attitude really rubs me the wrong way. I grew up on canned, frozen, and less than great food, and I think a truly skilled chef should never look down on any ingredient. She should be able to take anything, whether it's quality is up to your standards or whether or not you like the way it tastes, and turn it into something delicious. Refusing to work with working class ingredients doesn't make you better, it makes you an out-of-touch asshole.

Having said all that, I was impressed with the taste of the oats I got from Whole Foods, compared to the ones I typically get from the grocery store (both are rolled, non-instant oats). I didn't realize the humble oat could have so much variance. There's absolutely no shame in humble ingredients and working with what you've got, but there's also no shame in working with the best you can afford (it becomes a problem when you refuse to even consider certain products, such as canned or frozen, because of an unwarranted, over-inflated ego).

I adjusted the recipe portion to be a bit smaller, enough for one bowl. I used about a quarter cup of oats, covered it with water (about a half cup), threw in a pinch of salt and let it boil.

Then I lowered the heat, stirred it often, and let the water absorb. Then I stirred in some butter (about a half a tablespoon), removed the pot from the heat, put a lid on it, and let the butter absorb.

A few minutes later, I stirred up the oatmeal, which was looking surprisingly tasty at this point. I added a splash of 2% milk, some cinnamon, and some candied walnuts and grapes that I had laying around. These add-ins surprised me; I thought the candied walnuts would be the real treat, but they turned slightly bitter over time, I'm guessing from the heat of the oatmeal. The grapes, however, were such a nice contrast with how bright and juicy they were. They did get a little weird from the warmth of the oats by the end of the meal, though.

This recipe is:
-Vegetarian
-Vegan (swap the milk and butter for nut milk/imitation butter or omit them completely)

This is the 3rd recipe I made from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything: Basics.