Seems like every time Sheryl and I go to Seattle (which is twice in the last couple of years), we go crazy from overeating … at least I do. Tonight, working my way through the signature coconut cream pie at the Dahlia Lounge … after a Manhattan straight up, a bowl of duck noodle soup, several slices of black and green olive bread and a generous portion of Snake River Farms pork tenderloin with carmelized pearl onions and (I think) braised kale … all this after a breakfast quiche at the Macrina Bakery and a quick lunch of sukiyaki and rice at the Uwajimaya Market … I found myself thinking back to my college production of Molière’s “The Miser” (in which I played Valere, the romantic lead; how long ago was that!) and the playwright’s immortal words of warning: “You should eat to live, not live to eat.”
I made it well into my middle years without following his advice. And now there seems little chance I will everheed it. Yesterday we made what now feels like an annual pilgrimage to the Barking Frog in Woodinville where I ate my first ever grilled antelope (from a ranch in Texas; okay, not sensational) washed down by a complement of Washington reds (much better than the antelope, as were the oysters from Whidby Island’s Penn Cove and the bread pudding with maple ice cream).
Oh, and I forgot… the homemade donuts with mascarpone at the Dahlia Lounge. (Whoever invented Lipitor is the greatest human being since DaVinci.)








Roger,
Either the restaurants in Seattle have an uncanny ability to make beans and rice sound expensive or you are a mystery novelist and screenwriter.
Looking foreward to an energetic year for Pajamas.
hfrose
I’m with you all the way. As for advice, in my post listing the top ten recommendations for staying sane in ’06, here’s number four:
Forget about trying to eat merely to fuel your body. Food isn’t only sustenance. It is pleasure, entertainment, solace, etc., and trying to take that away from the equation will just lead to misery. Ask the Puritans.
Gotta go. That post made me very, very hungry.
Ow, my wallet…