Photo: Jess Thomson
Kathy Gunst, our colleague and neighborly Resident Chef at Here & Now, recently went to Seattle. She had these observations to make about Washington’s highly caffeinated, serious food city.
Kathy Gunst
Cookbook author, blogger
It’s a little before 11 a.m. but I’m already on my third cup of coffee.
In Seattle, you can’t really go for more than a block or two without passing at least one coffee shop. I’m not talking Dunkin’ Donuts, but the kind of coffee shop that has Polartec’ed, Gore-Tex’ed patrons with waterproof messenger bags slung over their shoulders– the ‘uniform de Seattle.’ They order triple lattes and “dry caps.”
Coffee here is dark, way stronger than I’m used to, kind of how super moldy blue cheese is to bland Muenster. Two sips and you’re flying.
I’m here on a book tour for my latest, Notes from a Maine Kitchen. It’s an experiment, to see if a book about New England food resonates with West Coast people. On a foggy Monday night, at Booklarder, an independent cookbook store, there’s a small crowd assembled. I had expected my two Seattle friends showing up and not many more, so I’m pleased with the turnout. I talk about the overlaps between the food cultures of Maine and Seattle. I read a few essays from my book — one about a January ice fishing expedition for smelts, one about tapping our maple trees and making syrup. There are questions and comments from the assembled group and, the more everyone talks, it seems the two coasts are united by one single element: the deep love of food.
The next day my friend, Jess Thomson, a food blogger and cookbook author, takes me on a culinary tour of the city. At Pike Place Market the Dungeness crabs are huge, popping with sweet meat. The salmon is just the right shade of orange, not farm raised, but caught wild in nearby waters. The pattern of thin black and gray lines on the shells of the local baby manilla clams look like they had been painted by a graphic designer. In Fremont, a neighborhood of chocolate shops, funky boutiques and specialty food stores, we find a butcher selling locally-raised meats and house-made sausages.
After shopping, we take a two-hour hike through Discovery Park. Exercise is the great, mostly unknown, secret of many food writers. Without it the job is one big, increasingly nauseating, meal. After ten minutes climbing uphill, the clouds lift and the sun appears, and I catch a stunning glimpse of Mt. Rainier and the nearby islands.
And then it’s time for another cappuccino. It occurs to me that coffee is to Seattle what lobster is to Maine. The defining symbol of a regional “food.” The barista is mellow and takes her time foaming the milk. The cashier chats us up before he takes our money. I observe: “For a city that consumes so much caffeine, people go real slow.”
We head back to Jess’s and start cooking. We sauté a leek with the chorizo we bought from the goateed hipster butcher, and add some tomatoes canned from her summer garden. The baby clams, a splash of wine, chick peas, and parsley from the garden (still fresh in February!) go into the skillet and cook until the shells just open and the sauce is briny with fresh clam juice. We devour the stew with crusty bread—locally made, of course. We grill the salmon with a sprinkling of za’tar, a Middle Eastern spice blend, and roast cauliflower — a great winter vegetable — with pitted olives, currants and pepper. It’s winter. There’s a gentle rain falling, with no sign of frost or snow. THIS is the kind of winter meal, and evening, I could get used to.
But enough coffee! It’s time for some chamomile tea.
Clams with Chorizo, Chick Peas, Tomatoes and Parsley
Kathy’s note: You want to find the smallest, freshest clams possible for this dish—like littlenecks or Manilla clams. Serve with warm, crusty bread.
Ingredients
1 ½ tablespoons olive oil
1 leek, sliced down the middle, cleaned and thinly sliced (white part only)
2 cloves garlic, very thinly sliced
½ pound chorizo, taken out of the casing and crumbled
1 cup fresh or canned tomatoes, broken up or chopped into small cubes
½ cup fresh parsley, coarsely chopped
Freshly ground pepper
½ cup dry white wine
One 15-ounce can chickpeas, washed, and drained
1 pound fresh littleneck clams, see note above
Directions
In a large skillet heat the oil over low heat. Add the leek and garlic and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes. Add the chorizo and cook, stirring, about 8 minutes or until almost cooked. Add the tomatoes, half the parsley, and pepper and cook 2 minutes. Raise the heat to medium and add the wine; simmer 10 minutes. Add the chick peas and clams and cook, stirring, until the clams just open. Sprinkle with the remaining parsley and serve hot. Serves 2 to 4.