Not Seattle
Just looking at these photos, it would be easy to think I was still in Seattle. It gave me a big grin. The rest of my group were still shopping, so I took a few “not-Seattle” shots:
Look! Salmon!
Trout!
Looks pretty PWN to me, except maybe he needs a sweatshirt!
OK, here’s your big clue:
And here is where we ate really good Chinese food (no, sorry, no photos!)
We had spring rolls and crab wontons, then Hunan Beef, Orange Shrimp, Dali Chicken and Cashew Chicken with steaming hot green tea. After Iftar, you can read P.F. Chang’s Menu here. 🙂
The Pancake Haus in Edmonds
In my little home town, Edmonds, north of Seattle, there is a place you wouldn’t look at twice, but if you want to eat there on a Sunday morning, be prepared to stand in line. The Pancake Haus is no well kept secret among long-time Edmonds residents, and especially on Sunday morning, when the entire community shows up, drifting into the restaurant in bunches, as the different church services finish. If you want a booth just for two, you may not have to wait as long as those waiting for a table for eight (families love to come here) or twelve or more (church groups).
When I lived here, I think I tried almost every single thing on the menu, even the oatmeal, but not biscuits and gravy. One time AdventureMan ordered biscuits and gravy and it cured me of ever wanting to try them. In my mind it looks like dough and glue, but everyone insists it tastes great. I’ll take their word for it.
So when Mom looks outside and groans at all the rain coming down and says “Want to go to the Pancake Haus?” I knew the right answer was yes. I don’t think it’s her favorite place, but she knows it is one of mine. We were lucky, we got out during a lull in the rain, and there was a tiny booth for two people waiting for us.
The Pancake Haus is not fast food. It is slow food, and it doesn’t matter because all your friends are there and you need to say hello and you have time, while the rain comes down, just to sip a little coffee (ummm, no, everyone just drinks coffee in this place, maybe a little sugar and cream, or maybe some sweetener, but none of the la-di-da Starbucks drinks). The owners know just about everybody, and have half their family, children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews – all working the tables, even cooking to make sure the food gets to you in a reasonable time.
Mom was debating . . . potato pancakes? pecan pancakes? I suggested maybe the Iowa corncakes, but she said no . . . maybe blueberry pancakes? They have all the regular suspects here, eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, etc. but they have some really amazing pancakes.
I know what I want – I want a half order of the Raspberry Roll-ups. That makes up her mind for her, she orders the Swedish Pancakes with lingonberry sauce.
Aha! This time I remembered!
Swedish pancakes with lingonberry sauce:
Raspberry Roll-ups:
Here’s a tip – when you order the roll-ups, order the whipped cream on the side. Otherwise it will be ON the pancakes, and you will end up eating it all. No! No! You really don’t want to do that, this is REAL whipped cream, delicious, totally fat whipped cream. Honest, a little dab’ll do ya.
Even a half order was a lot of pancake and we had to roll ourselves out of the Pancake Haus. Next door is a family-owned grocery store (Yes! they still exist!) and I ran in and got a few supplies, even though we weren’t hungry, we knew the pancakes would wear off and we didn’t want to have to go out in the rain again.
With all this rain, it is a good day to practice-pack, see if I am going to be able to get everything in my suitcases (nope) and to pack a box to send ahead to Doha.
Lunch at Las Maracas in Ocean Shores
“I’ve never been to Ocean Shores!” my Mom says brightly. (I know what is coming.) “Have you ever been to Ocean Shores?”
Yes. oh yes. When I was at university, we would all rent a big chalet during Spring Vacation.
“Yeh . . . I don’t remember it being that great,” I reply.
She didn’t mention it again, but I knew she wanted to go, so yesterday we decided to take an excursion to go to Ocean Shores.
I remember back when there seemed to be a lot of (generated) excitement about Ocean Shores. It’s like someone had bought this big hunk of land and wanted to develop it and started making it sound like if you don’t buy a vacation lot at Ocean Shores, you are going to be really really sorry because ALL YOUR FRIENDS ARE GOING TO BE THERE!
I think mostly it was cold and rainy when we were there during Spring Break. What I remember the best was my friends taught me how to make a casserole out of taco chips and ground beef and taco sauce, with grated cheddar cheese. It tastes really good (all that salt) and it probably has zero redeeming nutritional value.
Holding that memory dear, after Mom and I toured the big nothing that is most of Ocean Shores (the entire “north beach” coast is pretty undeveloped, very old timey, honestly, I love it) and visited a schlock-shop, oops, tourist shop, so Mom could spend a little money, we found Las Maracas, which actually served very decent Mexican chow.
No, I didn’t drink beer – I’m driving, remember? And Mom would just fall asleep if she had a beer at noon.
I put my camera on the table so I would remember to take food photos, but not before I had taken a couple ‘location’ shots:
Someone had a ball with the upholstery:
And then the nacho chips came:
The servers yell “Salsa, por favor!” into the kitchen, and determinedly call us “Senyora” or “Senyoras,” out on this remote Washington State coastal resort area.
And then I totally forgot the camera on the table because my seafood tostada came, and it was so unbelievably delicious – shrimp, crab, fish – that I ate it all and then said “oh no! I forgot to take photos!”
Mom was still picking through her Camarones al mojo de ajo, so I got a shot of that:
This restaurant was worth the drive to Ocean Shores.
Lunch at Ivar’s in Mukilteo
Mom and I are heading out to the coast tomorrow for some time at the beach. On the Washington/Oregon beaches, you never know what the weather is going to be. It doesn’t matter how old you get, you know how Mamma’s are? Like she keeps asking me if I have a sweatshirt? Do I have a raincoat? Have I packed my toothbrush? (no, I made that last one up! 😉 )
So today we were running errands, like go to the bank so we have enough cash, like pick up a few groceries, because the places we stay have a kitchen (more important, they have a view of the OCEAN!), pick up a junky beach-book or two, and some Sudoku, and then, let’s go have lunch!
Mom LOVES Alaska fried clams, and Ivar’s does them the BEST, so we drive north to Mukilteo, but it takes forever because they are doing some road repairs on the back roads we usually take, and our “short-cuts” take a lot of time.
“Promise to remind me to take photos this time.” I ask her, but she won’t promise.
A few bites in, I remember. I’m getting better. 🙂
Here are Mom’s Alaska Fried Clams:
Even thought lunch portions are smaller, it was still a lot of clam, and very very rich, breaded and then sauteed in butter. Mom says her green beans were also really good.
Here is my grilled Alaska salmon, on a bed of spinach and orzo salad vinaigrette:
I’m like Popeye, I love SPINACH! This whole meal was delicious, and, once again, we were happy to see the restaurant had a good clientele eating lunch. Even Seattle is begining to feel the economic crunch.
The Edmonds Market
The Edmonds Market is one of my favorite things in my hometown, just north of Seattle. Street vendors set up early, and by nine in the morning the market is already going strong. I like to get there early, to get a good choice and – to get a parking space.
It was a wonderful, cool, cloudy morning, but there was no rain. I stopped at Celebrations, a bakery/catering booth, and bought chocolate covered brownies for a gathering later in the day, and an orange/cinnamon roll for my own sinful indulgence. (It was sticky and wonderful!)
All of the people photographed here gave permission for their photos:
The honey man who mixes all his own honeys and brings his bees to pollinate crops for various farmers:
The relish makers – a variety of homemade chutneys, condiments, relishes, made by them from herbs and vegetables they grow:
This lady sells wonderful lotions in divine fragrances – sandlewood, ginger and lime, etc.
This woman and her daughter knit and crochet darling little clothes for babies!
I found these wonderful squash / pumpkins:
There are all kinds of vendors selling flowers, at wonderful prices:
Just outside the Edmonds Street Market is the gazebo round-about, and every now and then, some kids think it hysterically funny to pour a little detergent into it, making it bubble over:
There is a Starbucks by the fountain, with several tables outside to accommodate dog walking patrons:
Ivar’s Seafood Bar and Lunch on the Waterfront
It’s another gorgeous day in Seattle, hitting around 87°F/29°C, blue skies, not a cloud in sight, a day everyone heads for the beach.
My Mom LOVES the beach.
“How about if I pick up lunch and we eat on the beach?” I ask her, and she agrees almost before I ask. “But I don’t need a big lunch,” she adds, “only two pieces of fish and no fries, I’ll just eat a couple of yours.”
I hardly ever order fish and chips. I almost never order fries. How could she know me for so long and not know that?
After running my errands, I hit the Ivar’s Seafood Bar and order – two orders of fish and chips.
The restrooms:
I remembered to take a photo of the fish and chips before the fish was entirely gone 🙂
I picked up Mom and we drove to the waterfront, scoring rock-star parking and a park bench with a view that went forever, right off the beach and watching the Edmonds ferry come in and out of the dock:
And then we went home and waited for Mom’s new red chair to be delivered, which it was, and it is beautiful!
Taqueria Guayamas
I have to admit it, I am repeating myself. When I find a really good place, I go back again and again. How can you miss, when you know a place is really really great?
I had to back to the Taqueria Guayamas, but this time I was determined NOT to order the same things I always order, but to make myself try something new.
Oh no! There were no customers in front of me, so as I am looking at the menu, trying to make myself not order the same things I have had before and the man is asking what I want and I don’t know, so I order the (something) verde, and he asks if I want the plate or the burrito so I say the burrito.
When the burrito comes, it is totally delicious:
(I think part of the green in the green sauce is avocado!)
One of the things I dream about while living in Kuwait or Qatar is the selection of home made salsas – I choose a fiery pepper sauce, and a smokey fiery pepper sauce:
These salsas are both out of this world. If you are not a fiery salsa fan, not to worry, they have about eight to choose from, and some are very mild.
This is one side of the Taqueria Guayamas menu:
I really, really, REALLY need a Taqueria Guayamas in Doha!
Beautiful Flower’s Crab Cakes
Sometimes, the absolute best day happens and you had no idea it was going to happen – you didn’t plan for it to happen, it just sort of came about.
One of my two very good friends in Seattle is Beautiful Flower. We don’t call her that, but that is what her legal name means. After having lunch together in Ivar’s, a place we have haunted for years, we visited with my Mom and then she said she wanted us to go back to her house and make crab cakes. She and her husband had the good fortune to have caught their limit in nice fat crabs this last weekend.
I knew she was having guests from out-of-town, and I am a pretty good crab picker, so I said yes, besides, she has a new recipe from her daughter for crab cakes, and she says it is almost entirely crab, and it is a really good recipe, you can really taste the crab. Oh YUM.
So we put our aprons on and she put down a huge black plastic bag (if you’ve ever cleaned crabs, you know it is very messy work) and got out the hammer and the crab-crackers and the crab picks and away we went. She had four good sized crab – and it didn’t even take us half an hour to clean those beauties, giving us more than a pound of sweet, delicious fresh crab meat. We were talking so much we didn’t even notice how hard we were working!
Her daughter arrived, and they started putting together the crab cakes – just wrapping the crab mixture in panko, the Japanese break crumb coating.
We had a lengthy discussion about the right way to fry crab cakes – Beautiful Flower uses olive oil, but her daughter prefers straight butter. I love the taste of butter, but use mostly olive oil with just a pat of butter for the flavor. I think she used a mix, but we were all talking so fast I didn’t really pay attention as I should.
As my friend was frying up the crab cakes, she was telling us that she and her next two sisters all had names that started with “beautiful” but that when the fourth sister came along, her mother named her “too many girls!” Fortunately, the nurse at the hospital writing down the name wrote down “Proud girl” instead of “Too many girls” (they sound sort of alike if you aren’t listening too carefully).
My friend also told us she went to visit her mother in the hospital with her grandmother, her father’s father. When her grandmother discovered that her mother had another daughter, she was so mad she left my friend – 6 years old – and didn’t even visit her mother!
My friend, 6 years old, had to try to find her mother in the hospital and give her the food they had brought. But it was the middle of winter, and the nurses had covered up all the new mothers, from head to toe, so my friend couldn’t find her mother! Finally, somehow she found her and fed her, and then – at 6 years old – she had to walk 5 miles back to her house alone, because her grandmother had left her there! She said she didn’t talk to her grandmother for a long time.
Her daughter had never heard that story, had heard her mother’s sisters call the one sister “Lo Moi”, but didn’t know that it meant “too many girls!” The family still call the youngest sister “Too Many Girls” even though her legal name was Proud Girl.
See what I would have missed if we weren’t making crab cakes?!
Beautiful Flower’s Daughter’s Recipe for Really Good Crab Cakes
1 lb crab meat
2 Tablespoons + 2 Teaspoons chopped fresh chives (or green onions)
2 Tablespoons + 2 Teaspoons chopped fresh dill
2 Tablespoons finely grated lemon zest
salt pepper (we left it out because crab is naturally salty)
1/2 cup panko
Shape crab into patty, roll in panko, place on cookie sheet until ready to fry. Fry in lightly oiled/buttered pan until golden brown. Eat!
Crab cakes served with Beautiful Flower’s Daughter’s Homemade Plum Sauce:
(When I called my friend this morning to thank her for the wonderful time, I told her that I had a crab cake for breakfast, and they are as good cold as they are hot and she laughed and said she was having a crab cake for breakfast, too. What sheer luxury! Crabcake for breakfast! 🙂 )
Tradition: Ivar’s in Mukilteo
I don’t know why I love going to this restaurant so much, but I do. The worst meal I have ever had there was mediocre, but considering we go there all the time, the majority of the meals have been between 90 – 100% absolutely wonderful. On this visit, my friend had clam chowder and the Fried Alaska Clams, and I had the crab bisque and the salmon on a bed of spinach. We were so busy talking, there are no food photos, I didn’t even remember photos until we were on your way out of the restaurant.
The Fried Alaska Clams, by the way, were so good that we ordered another order to go, and took them home to my Mother, who adores Fried Alaska Clams, and she said they were perfect!
The boat:
Looking toward the entry:
No signs of recession; the restaurant is full!
You can watch the Mukilteo Ferry come in and depart:
View of the pier on this gorgeous Pacific Northwest day, just outside Ivar’s.
The restaurant was full, but it seemed to me, at least on the lunch menu, that the prices are lower than they were six months ago. My friend said she thought so, too. A BIG bus full of Japanese tourists ate there, but the restaurant is so big, I don’t even know where they were eating.
And Purg, I feel so bad that there are no food photos from Ivar’s, that I took a food photo of the food in my refrigerator for you:
Irrelevant Clothing, Shoes and Scissors
It doesn’t matter how long I have been living in the Middle East, it doesn’t matter how many times I have made the trip back and forth, I never seem to get it quite right.
I knew it was going to be less hot in Seattle. I knew it. And still, I didn’t pack a single pair of closed toe shoes, a single pair of nylon stockings, and only a couple long sleeved things. It doesn’t matter that I have lived in Seattle, that I know Seattle, when I am in the middle of the heat and humidity of August in Doha, I lack the imagination to think clearly about the coolness of August in Seattle. I have a lot of lightweight cotton dresses . . . hmmm, so irrelevant in Seattle.
I keep a storage locker here. It started when we moved our parents from their big house to a 2 BR condo (with a water view 🙂 ) and Mom had separated out some of her treasures to divide among us movers. The problem was, I didn’t really want to take them with me (bulky and I would have to bring them back) and I have already imposed on the sister who lives here with a bunch of my stuff, so I finally decided to rent a storage locker. I discovered as a landlord, it actually comes off my taxes. I still have to pay for it, but it isn’t a total loss. I keep Seattle supplies in the locker, too.
When I went to the locker yesterday to pick up some more long sleeved stuff, and my Seattle hairdryer, and my Seattle make-up and living supplies (dishwashing soap, coffee filters, paper towels, laundry soap, etc.) yesterday, with my Mom in the car, nothing went right. My code didn’t work. I had to go inside, leaving my Mom sitting in the car, and it took them a while to work out what was wrong.
(“We don’t have seven number codes! . . . .Hmmm, , mmm, , , yeh, it says you have a seven number code all right, . . .. so here is your new code . . . )
And the new code didn’t work either.
They opened the gate for me, I went to my locker, and with my Mom sitting in the car, discovered my laundry soap had leaked during the time between visits, and with my Mom sitting in the car, I had to clean it all up AND dig out some relevant clothing, and some wrapping paper for gifts I need to send, and scotch tape and scissors (yes, I keep all the things that I frequently use in the locker so I don’t have to buy them again and again and again.) I also grabbed the bag of cosmetic items – like shampoo, toothpaste, my Seattle toothbrush, etc.)
My poor Mom! Remember her? She is still out there sitting in the car!
(The code didn’t work on the way out, either.)
So after all that sitting in the car, I treated Mom to a trip to Trader Joe’s, a place we both love. I picked up sugar snap peas; I just eat them like candy, instead of candy, they are SO good, and some sushi for later on, and Mom picked up things that were really bad, like triple gingersnaps and a wonderfully fragrant new Rosemary Tree.
On the way home, she said “you know you have some stuff in the guest bathroom” and I assured her that I did not, that it was all my middle sister’s stuff, and she said “No, Little Diamond looked at it while she was staying here and said it was yours, that it was stuff you use.” Hmmm. Little Diamond said that?
So when we got back to Mom’s house, I checked the cupboard, and there was one of those zipper bags like (ahem) I always use, and inside was . . . yep. Another hairbrush. Another Seattle toothbrush. Scotch tape. Scissors. My particular make-up back-ups. Shampoo. I brought it with me, and I had two almost identical zipper bags full of Seattle supplies. I can only imagine that sometimes when I get here after all those hours of traveling that my mind is just so addled I am not thinking.
It also makes me feel a little weird that Little Diamond knows me so well that she can identify MY things with just a glance at the contents of the plastic bag, LLOOLLLL! I am that predictable?
On my way over to my Mom’s, I had stopped at the local Fred Meyer’s, a Target-like local store I just love. Now that I am in Seattle, I see things differently. I see things I can hardly resist, like something in me feels like getting ready for the winter, but then, Thank God, my sterner self jerks me back just as I am reaching for:
Look at those socks! Look at those colors! I can barely resist, they are such a hoot! but then . . . where would I wear them? Even if I were abaya’d, people could see my bright polka-dot chartreused ankles and it would draw unwanted attention . . . . maybe just around the house . . .
But no . . . around the house – look at these!
Thick, fuzzy sleepers, only $16.99, like we wore when we were kids, only these are for grownups, and oh! look at that zebra print! The cheetah! They are almost irresistable!
And so irrelevant in Doha!
Recent Comments
Kitchen on Isiais: Winding Down intlxpatr on Shampoo Ginger tigerbutterya0c5ff1d… on Shampoo Ginger intlxpatr on British Soldier Kidnapped, Esc… John on British Soldier Kidnapped, Esc… Wikipedia Donate Button
Amazina
Early Voting in Florida
