Ha! The granola is a nice touch for such a fancy looking place, but the foam trend drives me nuts. Ok, I've never had it, but it's fucking foam for chrissake!
Dear Lindy, as you know, Cornichon is the French word for pickle (or gherkin, if you want to get fancy-shmancy). Hence pickle-brine is a wel-known commodity in my household. Less known is the secondary meaning of "cornichon." In French, it's a mild insult (never said to one's face): "Quel cornichon!" (What a dick). So that shot of pickle-juice, think of it as a mild rebuke: You honey-bitch! You jerk! Got that? Good. Let's move on.
Hmm, I love New York, but sweet jesus, that is some painfully pretentious presentation, there. It reminds me of the Tall Food epidemic a few years back, now it's Jackson Pollack on a plate. The vanilla yogurt and pepper one made me think of a children's story illustration, where some little creature makes footprints in the snow, pees next to a snowbank, and walks on. Or something. I would rather eat some gooey lasagne, crusty bread, and a kick-ass red in a noisy restaurant than skewer truffled pea beans one by one onto my fork. But then I've lived in Canada for a long time, and we like poutine, and I probably have no palate...
The presentation is a bit of a mess, but that shit still looks good. I can't speak to the venison, but the short ribs looks perfectly cooked to medium rare, perhaps sous vide. Drooling now, closing window.
What part of me specifying that it was "cheap," "janky," rotgut-ass whiskey didn't you guys understand? How's the air all the way up there on your high horse? You breathing okay? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Altitude_si…
Yeah, but can you get a crappy hot dog with cream cheese on it, huh, can you, huh, can you? Seattle style. Or so I hear; I wouldn't eat one.
Plates like that always create a terrible tension inside me, between the overwhelming desire to lick the plate, which is often the only way to get any of those sauce droplets up, and the overwhelming sense that this place of all places is not a place for plate-licking. Even though you might starve if you don't.
I'm sure the food was delicious (I would hope so, for the price on the website!), but picture #6 made me laugh. The artistically smeared baby shit-colored sauce, at a perfect angle to the rest of the food....so very precious! This Slog post is perfect, because this food is meant to be admired, not eaten.
Regarding where in Seattle you can get pickle juice chasers, I work at Po Dog and we at times give cups of pickle juice to Auto Battery if a customer requests it for their whiskey shots. So if you want them, we'll provide!
I've never heard of a pickle back, but it rhymes with nickelback, and I'd hate to order one in a loud bar and have the bartender not hear me and think I have just shit taste in music.
@40 I doubt it has a very high IQ, but I bet it's super yummy. I love eating like that. A couple tastes of one flavor and then you're on to another. One meal is a dozen new experiences.
@38 Jesus Christ! that was uncalled for. Before you post, try saying it out loud, or imagine someone saying it to you. Maybe you won't come off as such a black-hearted bitter old crone. Blech.
Sheesh, Lindy. I think we are wondering why you chose to drink a whiskey that you describe as "janky", "cheap", and "rotgut-ass" in the first place. Was that the only whiskey available? The recommended one? I don't think anyone was judging you. I wasn't, anyway. I hope you have a good day.
Oh, the pickle back! I was certain I was going to hate it (I despise whiskey), but damn what an awesome (and cheap) shot! We must have them here in Seattle!
Gee, for someone on vacation you're sure in a mood. I understand too much pickle juice will do that to ya. Hopefully it's passed by now.
When we were kids and got ourselves all in a huff about something, my mother would say "You're just not fit to be around. Go to your room and think about what is bothering you and then come back when your attitude improves". Needless to say if we returned with the same shitty attitude we were sent back to our rooms and a 1 to 2 hour timer was put on us. Worked everytime.
@25- The air is very nice. Seriously, why drink cheap whiskey? There's vodka that's just as cheap and only has a slight kerosene taste. And if you put it in a girl drink, you don't taste it at all.
That shit does not look appealing to me at all, except the prawns. And I'm with #2 - enough with the fucking foam presented as food, already. Foam is for coffee drinks.
When I get back to New York, I head straight for the eggplant parm, the bialys (from Kosser's), to Flatbush for Trinidadian roti, to Brighton Beach for perogies and vodka ... Lindy can have the precious haute cuisine.
But seriously, foam. I hate it. It looks like someone spat on your food.
@27: Nah. I love eating something that's beautiful too. (That sounds kind of dark.) I don't see something that's beautiful and necessarily think, "I'm not supposed to eat this" just like the way I don't look at something that looks like poo thrown on a wall and think, "I AM supposed to eat this."
What
I'll have a grilled cheese instead please.
Dukes on Alki serves it, BTW.
And I feel really hungry now.
Whiskey is a gorgeous, beautiful, divine, substance, why would you ruin it with pickle brine?
If you want to get drunk without tasting the booze, stick to vodka and rum drinks.
Or you could, you know, grow a soul and learn to like whiskey.
Plates like that always create a terrible tension inside me, between the overwhelming desire to lick the plate, which is often the only way to get any of those sauce droplets up, and the overwhelming sense that this place of all places is not a place for plate-licking. Even though you might starve if you don't.
And Canuck FTW on the yogurt pic.
Oh, nuance.
@38 Jesus Christ! that was uncalled for. Before you post, try saying it out loud, or imagine someone saying it to you. Maybe you won't come off as such a black-hearted bitter old crone. Blech.
When we were kids and got ourselves all in a huff about something, my mother would say "You're just not fit to be around. Go to your room and think about what is bothering you and then come back when your attitude improves". Needless to say if we returned with the same shitty attitude we were sent back to our rooms and a 1 to 2 hour timer was put on us. Worked everytime.
When I get back to New York, I head straight for the eggplant parm, the bialys (from Kosser's), to Flatbush for Trinidadian roti, to Brighton Beach for perogies and vodka ... Lindy can have the precious haute cuisine.
But seriously, foam. I hate it. It looks like someone spat on your food.
@27: Nah. I love eating something that's beautiful too. (That sounds kind of dark.) I don't see something that's beautiful and necessarily think, "I'm not supposed to eat this" just like the way I don't look at something that looks like poo thrown on a wall and think, "I AM supposed to eat this."