OMG a Recipe: Rum 1-2-3-PUNCH

Like the saying goes by cheesy actors, "I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV," I can say, "I'm not an alcoholic, but I sure do talk about liquor an awful lot on this blog."  I freely admit to my own Shameber-worthy activity of Unleashing the Kraken now and then, but I think it's safe to say appreciating good, quality distilled spirits is no different than appreciating a well-made beer or fine wine. Someone put a lot of thought and effort to that lovely liquor in the glass (yes, glass -- if it's in plastic, you might be an alkie after all). And there's the added icing to the tipsy cake, knowing you can enjoy spirits on their own or mixed in cocktails. It's still summer, so let's celebrate the sweet life with rum!

Getting punchy with Chairman's Reserve Rum - photo by Wasabi Prime

I was very pleased to attend an Eastside Bartenders Association (EBA) gathering on a sunny Sunday, over at Milagro Cantina in Kirkland. It was a rum tasting event, spotlighting three Chairman's Reserve Rums from St. Lucia Distillers in the Caribbean. I openly admit I'm normally not a rum drinker. Much like my trial-by-fire initiation(s) with tequila many moons ago, I think we've all had our share of Epic Regret with lousy cheap liquor, but thankfully it only takes one really good experience to rehabilitate a relationship with a particular spirit. With the cocktail-smart folks behind the EBA organizing these events, it's like liver therapy, mending old wounds with an evil past and learning to love again with a liquor that will love you back and say you look pretty.

The Chairman's Reserve tasting was presented by the honorable Rocky Yeh of Cooper and Sons, a spirits brokerage company that focuses on distinctive, well-made liquor. He did a fantastic job of presenting the past and present of rum, going through its history as one of the oldest spirits that literally built empires, weaving a complex past that included the boon of the sugarcane industry, military might, economic development, slavery and piracy. Made with molasses, a byproduct of sugarcane, rum was a commodity, highly valued and enjoyed throughout history, paired well with tunes that start off with, "yo-ho-ho and a bottle of..." The term "proof" was derived through the rum-soaked days of the Royal Navy, where the percentage of alcohol needed to be high enough to where if it spilled on a ship's supply of gunpowder (occupational hazard, no?), it could still successfully light. No one wants to lose a seafaring battle because some dope couldn't keep their liquor upright. And to ensure the strength of the rum was sound, as well as to test whether or not a distiller was watering-down the batches, a bit of gunpowder was soaked and lit as "proof" the rum was enough to get both the cannons and the sailors properly lit.

A trio of rums presented by Rocky Yeh - Photos by Wasabi Prime

As to the present-day status of rum, it's less about strongarming an empire and more about just enjoying the flavor. Unlike those annoying pirate movies (OK, Depp's the only thing good about those), one of the best things to come out of the Caribbean is Chairman's Reserve Rum. Three different styles were sampled during the EBA event (silver, aged and spiced), and then mixed into cocktails to show how they make darn fine frosty beverages. Overall, the rum has a rich, true flavor -- you get a nice oak flavor from the aged rum, and the spiced rum is good enough to just enjoy on its own, like a Scotch. Leave it to Cocktail-Whisperer Mark Sexauer of Milagro Cantina to rehabilitate my relationship with rum the same way he did with tequila; he mixed up a couple of drinks using Chairman's, including a daquiri and a rum punch. Both are classic uses for rum, but I think they're also the most notable offenders for drinks that wind up getting you crunked off your face. And not in a good way. A true daquiri -- not the slushy 7-11 drink -- is simply made with a lot of fresh lime juice, sugar, and a good silver rum, served ice-cold. The cocktail that won raves was Mark's rum punch, made with the aged Chairman's and a mix of citrus and fresh pineapple. He was very kind to share the recipe via Sharpie marker on an old receipt. It kind of felt like getting a pirate treasure map. No pegleg or eyepatch required. Yarrrr.

Mixologist Mark and rum with snacks at Milagro Cantina - Photos by Wasabi Prime

So the big test was to try and recreate the drink at home, or rather, a friend's home. I met up with my cocktail-mateys, Miss SJBe and Miss Shutterbug, convening in SJBe's kitchen to punch up some rum. We used the aged rum, per Mark's original mix. The Chairman's silver rum is nice, but the light flavor would likely be lost in the fruit-forward mix, and the spiced rum would probably clash with the fruit -- the five year-aged Chairman's is like the porridge that's just right. Drink up, Goldilocks.

I'm absolutely not a bartender, nor would I consider myself any good at mixing drinks, but from what little trials and Kraken-unleashing times I've had in my own kitchen, I hazard this little bit of experience: mixing drinks is a bit like cooking. I say "cooking," not "baking," because I realize baking more or less needs to be fairly exact with  measurements, but cooking you can push-pull flavors, spices and ingredients on the fly to balance out a dish. The same could be said with cocktails. Too much sweet? Balance it with something sour or bitter, and vice-versa. Too much liquor? Well, make it a bigger batch or be ready to not get behind the wheel anytime soon. With the exception of bad liquor, most drinks can be repaired and rebalanced. Rum punches are deliciously basic, as it's just rum with a mixture of sweet and sour fruit, plus a few dashes of bitters, but with the caviat that all fruits are not made equal, so it's good to taste the fruit as you go. Sometimes you get a candy-sweet orange, so you can lighten up on the adding of sugar. And sometimes you get pineapple that's just too acidic and not enough richness of flavor, so go ahead and mix in some sugar to heighten the flavor. I had to do that in this case, sprinkle the pineapple with a little extra sugar, plus hand-crush to extract as much of the flavor as possible, since we didn't let the mix sit for a while to really let the flavors develop. We went a little lighter on the pineapple, so the final color was more reddish from the pomegranate juice, but no harm in a berry-hued rum punch.

Treasure map to Rum Punch Island - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The final recreation of Mark's rum punch went as follows -- I went a little lighter on the rum, just because it was Sunday and a "school night." This is a little more sweet; if you want to control the sugar, mix the fruit juices and rum, and then add sugar to taste as the last ingredient.

2 cups of aged Chairman's Reserve rum
1.25 cup fresh squeezed orange juice
1 cup crushed fresh pineapple, with juice - add sugar to taste if fruit is particularly sour or acidic
1 cup pomegranate juice
.5 cup fresh squeezed lime juice
5 splashes of Angostura bitters
2/3 cup of sugar

Mix all ingredients in a large pitcher or bowl and use a large block of ice to keep the mixture super-chilled. Mark recommended freezing water in a mold, like a bunt cake ring, and using that to keep the punch chilled. If you want to be geeky with the ice, run the water through a filter and then bring to a boil on the stove. Let water cool enough to pour into the mold and freeze, if you want to try to have clear ice. I have yet to get totally crystal-clear ice using this method, but it's likely because our freezer is just too cold. No matter, the punch is still damn tasty.

UnRecipe: Appreciating the Green Pea-ness of Gardening

You know I just wanted an excuse to use that stupid joke about "green pea-ness." Say  it out loud in a large, crowded room of your work peers and HR representatives, that you appreciate the flavor of green pea-ness. I dare you. This is why I should never be let back into Corporate America, people.

Pea vines invading my mapo tofu - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Of course, this has nothing to do with anatomical discussions, more a moment to further ruminate on one of the nice things of living out in BFE-ville and having the benefit of a sizeable yard. I literally let two whole packets of sugar snap and snow pea seeds germinate, sprout into a Medusa-like tangle of roots between wet paper towels, and then meticulously plant every one of 'em into our vegetable garden beds. Ergo, we have a mofo-plethora of pea plants. Initially, it was nice to thin the rows, pulling the more tender shoots to eat in salads and make dishes more whimsical with the thread-like corkscrew fronds from the creeping vines. When the plants get big, you fall behind on the row-thinning, it's more like Day of the Triffids, and you're just hacking back what you can, just in the hopes the garden bed doesn't choke itself out from overplanting. This leads to the latest batch of hastily unplanned UnRecipes... 

Not just for delicate restaurant plating -- pea vines used as hearty greens - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Much like the logic behind CSA-cooking, aka, Weekly Iron Chef Madness -- all roads lead to stir-fry. Once washing and (hopefully) de-bugging all the overgrown pea vines, they can be chopped up and cooked down like any hearty green. When it's fresh and raw, you pick up the distinct sweetness of peas, but as the vines get thicker, they're not as tender, the leaves can be used for salads, but the vines themselves get a little tough. They can still be cooked down the way you would a bunch of chard or spinach, but I tend to strip the leaves and cook the chopped stems first, to give them a head-start before the leaves are added to wilt down as a finish.

I always have good intentions towards the weekly Meatless Monday challenge, to incorporate one day of sustainable animal-free meals during the week. Emphasis on "intention," as somehow a little bit of meat always works its way into my day, but at least once in a while, I'll get away with making a meatless dish and Mr. Wasabi won't even notice. Or at least he doesn't put up a huge fuss about it, bless his heart. I was able to make a savory and creamy peanut coconut milk curry, mixed with tofu, chickpeas and basically whatever I had in the pantry, but also included pea vines. These were the larger, more mature vines, so they were chopped small and cooked down so you didn't have to gnaw on them for too long. I did something similar with one of my quick-cook staples, mapo tofu. If I have extra vegetables, they're always easy to incorporate in the spicy, salty, sour mix of tofu and ground meat. I threw in some rough-chopped pea vines into the last batch of mapo tofu and they wilted down and mixed in with the other ingredients perfectly.

None of these dishes are particularly glamorous or fancy, it's more a way to cook with whatever's on-hand and improvise when needed. I was glad to say that once pea vines grow out of their restaurant-darling tender delicacy phase, they're still a player in the kitchen, if you don't mind making some simple, hearty fare. And if you get it from your own backyard, it saves you a trip to pick up something at the store or farmer's market.

FoodTrek: Saimin Says Eat More Noodles

I don't ask for much of this crazy, madcap world. I'm a simple Wasabi, puttering along on this mortal coil like everyone else. I like my beer cold, my fried chicken crispy and I want my saimin noodles crinkly. It used to be if I wanted a really authentic bowl of Hawaii-style saimin, I'd just wait for my next visit to the Aloha State. Luckily, I found a place a little closer, and it's just down south, in Kent, at Saimin Says.

Saimin Says in Kent - way closer than a flight to Hawaii - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I've been to Hawaii-style places on the Mainland, and to be honest, it's hit or miss. If the menu is full of pineapple-covered dishes and syrupy-sweet teriyaki beef, I hate to burst your bubble, but yo, that ain't Hawaii. I was recommended this place on good authority by Lisa Nakamura, a local chef/restaurant owner, overall awesome person and daughter of Aloha, and she wasn't wrong -- Saimin Says has some ono kine grindz that are plenty broke da mouth good. My main craving was saimin, the noodle soup that's unique to Hawaii. I've spoken oodles about these noodles in the past, that it's a spinoff of Japanese ramen, but with a lighter broth, and it's usually filled with the usual suspects: shreds of char siu pork, scrambled egg ribbons, fish cake/kamaboko and yes -- Spam. For me, the mark of quality is the noodle itself -- I prefer the wrinkly, slightly chewy "Hilo Style" noodle. This is always the hardest thing to find, as it's probably easier for places to get whatever noodles are available, and they never quite past muster on texture, at least for me.

I want a saimin quilt - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Noodle snobbery aside, I knew this place was legit when I saw their menu, whose mixed bento plate offerings are called hemajang, which is Pidgin for mixed up or confused, but it totally works for bento platters. They serve chili water as a condiment, which is exactly what it sounds like -- chopped up chili peppers in water, although they must add something extra as their chili water is a bright orange color and is deceptively Tang/astronaut juice-like. Don't drink it, just use sparingly. And they offer the three-layered fruit-flavored rainbow cake for dessert, where you usually use Jello to dye the batter and you have to layer it just right to get that perfect separation of colors. I used to call it "rainbow cake" -- so complex, right? But I know it was a popular staple at potluck parties and someone would always bring it.

But what about the saimin? It's about as close to Hawaii as you'll get without buying the ticket and sitting on the plane for five hours. And hey, they have a quilt with saimin as the pattern -- that's the banner of Saimin Thug Life, right there. The soup broth is flavorful -- nice and salty -- and the noodles were a little soft, but still had the basic texture I was looking for. They offer a few different varieties but I went with the Papa Jim Min, which had the mix of char siu, Spam and eggs, but also had two asteroid-sized wontons. For a first-time visit, I thought this would be the perfect combination. I was waffling between that and the Pocho Min, which had Portuguese sausage in it. That's OK -- gotta save something for a next visit!

Fried saimin and two scoops'  aplenty - Photos by Wasabi Prime

My biggest hurdle is the limited space of even the hungriest of stomachs. I was glad to have partners in crime with me on this visit, as I was there with Lisa as well as the fantastic Julien Perry of Seattle Weekly's Voracious fame -- she wrote about the visit on her column in the Weekly! She ordered the lau lau platter, which is slow-cooked pork with butterfish, wrapped in ti leaves and served with the all-important two scoops of carbohydrate K-O, mac salad and rice. It's another flagship Hawaiian dish and it looks like Saimin Says does it right. I also saw some other items on their menu that I will most definitely order for another visit, like their pork tonkatsu and kalbi beef. Their menu has all the main lunch specials, mostly beef, pork and chicken. They have poke, but it's a special that's served depending on the seafood they have on-hand, which is the right way to go with raw ocean goodies. But they serve the homestyle favorites and the menu just made me anxious to go back. Before I left, I made sure to get an order of their fried saimin to-go, which is the only practical way to really take saimin home with you. It's basically saimin but without the broth, stir-fried with extra vegetables and meat. It was good, but I think I'll go with a bento to-go next time. Again, weird Wasabi personal preference, but I like my fried saimin with a little char on the noodles and a little more crispness overall. But that doesn't change my opinion over Saimin Says, it just makes me want to go again and try more of their dishes, as I'm sure it's going to taste like the favorites from Wasabi Mom's kitchen.

A postscript to this post -- since visiting Saimin Says for the first time, I of course had to heed the Siren Song of Saimin and return again. Went on a Sunday for breakfast and tackled their Fried Spam Locomoco. Which, much like the movie title, Snakes on a Plane, is just that -- slices of Spam covered with panko crumbs, fried crisp, and topping rice with gravy and a fried egg. Will I tell my doctor about this? No. Will I tell you it was incredibly delicious and could have eaten more plates of the stuff? Hell, yes. The fried goodness of their Mochiko Chicken looked mighty fine as well -- my friend got that with a heap of mac salad and rice. Consider that number one with a hungry bullet the next time I head to Saimin Says.

Mixed Plate: CSA, Where the "C" is for "Creative"

If you ever wanted to feel like an Iron Chef in your own home, sign up for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). This is a growing trend in communities that have access to a large network of independent farmers and it's a win-win situation -- as a small grower, the crops are earmarked for purchase, helping to guarantee a steady business; as a subscriber to a CSA, you get whatever's fresh and in-season, supporting local businesses and the goods are likely organic. It also means as the preparer of the household meals, you become a wily home cook, required to think on your feet over how to prepare that box full of mystery that appears on your door every week. As Chairman Kaga would shout: Allez Cuisine!!

When CSA boxes bring you strawberries... make ice cream - Photo by Wasabi Prime

We did a CSA a couple of years ago with a smaller local farm out in Carnation and I'll be honest, it was a challenge. Weather dictates what you get, and if it's cold and wet, you have your lion's share of dark leafy greens, and sometimes, we'd just get some crazy-mofo-stuff that I had no idea what to do with. This isn't a bad thing, you just learn to be resourceful, which just means some nights you make green meatloaf, with buzzed-down greens mixed with ground meat. It doesn't mean you gave up, it means you needed to clear out the crisper because the next box was due to arrive the next day.

This year, my birthday present from Mr. Wasabi was a subscription to a CSA from Full Circle Farms. Lest you think this is the bowling ball with "Homer" engraved on it ("Simpsons" anyone?), this is a nice time-saver for me in that I can skip an extra trip to the grocery store that week or if I have enough on-hand materials, I don't have to grocery shop at all for a week, and it removes some of that nebulous, "what the hell am I cooking?" pondering for the week. Granted, Full Circle Farms is not some small mom n' pop farm co-op; they're freakin' huge. You've probably bought some of their stuff at large chain grocery stores before, just under a label like Earthbound Farm Organic. This doesn't mean Full Circle is some big, bad corporate machine; quite the contrary -- they're probably one of the friendliest ways to introduce yourself into the CSA habit because thanks to their large size, you can sign up at any time (many smaller CSAs have limited signup times/slots) and you can designate what you get in your delivery box, as well as the frequency of the deliveries.

Our bi-monthly Box of Mystery, from Full Circle Farms - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Right now we're on the every other week delivery schedule of a box full of mystery. I could specify what I want, but I'm letting Providence guide my cooking habits, plus I just don't want to hassle with it -- I trust what Mother Nature thinks we should be eating right now. We have that to a certain degree at grocery stores in that they'll offer the in-season items at a good price, but then they also offer blueberries from Argentina in the middle of February, so sometimes it's better to let the Fates plan your meal.

So far, we've been blessed with lots of leafy greens and vegetables, but more fruit is appearing in the boxes. Stone fruit like peaches, nectarines and pluots are showing up in the CSA Box of Mystery. We even had a little glass jar of  fennel salt show up as a little "thanks" from Full Circle. By having a crisper drawer full of vegetables, it makes it easier to make salads, and for other cooked dishes, you feel more inclined to bump up the veggie quotient. If I had a nutritionist, I'm sure they would say they're pleased we're getting our daily intake of roughage.

When I'm cooking with CSA deliveries in mind, I do tend to stick to ingredient-swappable dishes like soups, stews and stir-frys. Another easy thing to add extra vegetables in, or just make totally vegetarian is enchiladas. I make a lazy-man's version that's more like an enchilada lasagna, where I spread the filling between layers of corn tortillas and cover with a spicy tomato sauce and cheese. At that point, you can literally chop up anything and add to the mix, so it's a good crisper drawer-cleaner. I certainly don't claim to make super-fancy things when I'm in CSA-Iron Chef mode; I'm strapped for time some weeks and need to make items that are high-yield for lunch and dinner leftovers. And sometimes it's just a good challenge to make yourself work with what you have, create the flavors and textures you're looking for with the items on-hand. I'm always more fond of being resourceful than making something complicated, and with a box full of fresh, organic eats, it makes it that much more encouraging to be creative.

The exciting, unpredictable world of CSA Cooking - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Awww... Yeah -- You Know What Time it is....

Time to get-it-on with the Absolutely Shameless Self Promotion Post! At the risk of being a total hubris-riddled doucher, here's some friendly, pretty-please-with-sugar-on-top suggestions over some reading material to consider for the summer. And hey, one of these is a charity cookbook, so consider it your good deed of the month if you decide to purchase it! Let the Wasabi Prime Me-Show.... commence!

I fell in-to a burning ring of fire... and it was delicious - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Cocktails are good. Cocktails in a giant bowl-sized glass set on fire is exponentially good. My latest assignment for 425 Magazine's summer July/August issue was to track down some favorite summery cocktails, and I had to include Chantanee's menu of Tiki drink options. Bar manager, Evan Martin, was kind enough to set up a great cocktailian pastoral en fuego, to show off a classic Mai Tai and one of his own signature, award-winning creations, the Death in the Pacific, with the Brock Samson super-sized Tiki drinks served in giant punchbowls which are also available to order. Quite honestly, this is one of the only places I'll go to get a tropical frosty beverage; most places make their drinks with sugary syrups and fake fruit flavored liquors, but Chantanee literally takes the South Pacific and squeezes it into a glass. They're not the only place I list as having some really outstanding, refreshing cocktails, there's plenty more, but I won't spoil it; you're just gonna have to pick up the magazine to see what else made the cut. I think you'll find something that will wet yer whistle during the on-again/off-again days of sun we're getting in this funky Pacific Northwest summer.

Have your boozecake and eat it, too! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

What's more American than apple pie? Well, bourbon, of course. The latest issue of Drink Me magazine is out, aptly celebrating Americana. Just because we already celebrated Independence Day and nary a fighter-piloting Will Smith trying to get jiggy with aliens can be seen in sight, we can still have our apple corn cake with a whiskey caramel sauce and eat it, too. This was probably one of my favorite recipes I've developed for Drink Me so far, but probably one of the most re-worked ones. I originally started this as a skillet cake, sort of a cornmeal-based apple tartine. It was all right, but the cornmeal definitely adds weight to a baked good and I wanted it lighter, more spongey. I changed up the dry ingredients, added more wheat flour and leavening ingredients, and made mini-cakes, with an apple caramel-whiskey sauce on top. They're similar to a tartine in that the fruit and sauce topping are on the bottom of the baking container, the batter poured over, and once it's baked, you invert it so the good stuff is now the topping. Give it a whirl and pick up the latest issue or go online to see a digital copy.

This is as naked as it gets for Wasabi - check out my ample monitors! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I've of course been a promotion-storm over the newest blogger-contributed, independent-published cookbook, The Nudie Foodies, originally conceived by Seattle's own fabulous Salty Seattle. While I'm not in the book, I did have a hand in helping to bring the book to life as the designer of the book's overall look and layout. Proceeds from the book goes to AmeriCares, a charity providing humanitarian aid to those who needed it, most notably Japan, after the terrible disaster in March of this year. I realize the world is full of misfortune and bad things, and there's no shortage of need, which is exactly why even months after tragedy, the need for help is that much greater. While the news crews have moved on to other pressing issues, the people who are left in the aftermath of destruction still require aid. In the wake of sadness, The Nudie Foodies cookbook is the bright, shining, nude backside of a rainbow offering help with a cheeky smile. Tons of recipes, tons of artfully-covered famous bloggers -- what more could you ask for? And just think, for the culinary person in your life who has everything, why not give them a nude cookbook? It really is the gift that keeps on giving, so get yourself a copy or twelve on Blurb, the publisher of Nudie Foodies.

So, once again, many Wasabi Thanks for your gracious patience over yet another annoying edition of Why I'm so Freakin' Awesome. I of course don't really think I'm So Freakin' Awesome. Just grateful to be able to say I'm keeping busy and as Elvis Presley says: TKOB (Taking Care of Business).

FoodTrek: Meat the Butcher

There's just no way around it. I love Bill's meat. Now before you throw me to your NSFW castoffs or possibly file me away in that "other" private file, I'm being literal -- Bill the Butcher's meat is pretty tasty stuff. *commence porn theme music*

My, what a nice sausage you have - Photo by Wasabi Prime

We've gotten pretty accustomed to the one-stop-shopping of grocery stores, where you can jump from cheese puffs to deodorant in ten seconds flat, unless you get one of those carts with the annoying wiggly-wheels. So it's refreshing to see a throwback to the good old days of specialty stores. If you wanted bread, you go to a bakery. If you needed seafood, go to your fishmonger. And when you needed meat, you headed to your butcher shop. Bill the Butcher is a local Washington-based company with a series of shops in Seattle and the Eastside. Their claim to fame is organic, locally-sourced meats, with no weirdo chemicals, steroids or hormones that inevitably sneak into mass market meats and likely result in us looking like Morlocks in the future. I don't think that's on the FDA warning list, but hey, it could happen. Bill's shops are worthwhile to visit in that they offer whatever's fresh and when they're out of something, that's it -- come earlier next time. But this is a good way of selling perishables because you don't want old, stale goods. It's the sort of place to visit when you're cooking a special meal and you want meat to be the star ingredient. No heavy sauces or buried in too much seasoning, and if you're getting a steak from Bill's, for heaven's sake, cook it rare.

Butcher Bill's sausage and Captain Sig's beer - Photos by Wasabi Prime

On my most recent visit to Bill's, I was passing by the Bellevue shop and I decided to pick up some of their fresh-made sausage. It's not some shrink-wrapped pack of mystery meat links -- these ones you could see the chunks of meat, fat and seasonings through the casings, and they were good about knowing what's in there and what to suggest. I picked out a couple of their classic bratwurst, and then a wildcard -- they recommended the Macedonian leek sausage. I like buying sausage from a butcher because it's a cool way to see how a butcher prepares the meat in their own way. You'll get nice cuts of beef or pork, but because sausage needs to be the right blend of meat, fat and seasonings, it's kind of like letting a butcher "cook" for you, as it were.

For the Macedonian leek sausage, I braised it in some water, lightly seared the surface to brown the outside, and served it simply with a side of cooked down kale with garlic and lemon juice.  The hearty, bitter greens with the garlic and lemon went well with the meaty side, which had a light, sweet onion flavor from the leeks. Mr. Wasabi compared it to a German-style sausage, where the flavor is mild and it's an easy playmate to any side dish.

Oktoberfest-tasty and proof that you just can't take a pretty picture of sausage - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The second day, I prepared the bratwurst, braising it in beer, searing lightly and serving it with beer-braised red cabbage. This could not have gotten any more German if I tried. Short of donning lederhosen, this was Oktoberfest on a platter. The bratwurst had a nice savory pork flavor, more fatty, and a nice consistency. With a little bit of mustard to give it a little edge, that's all it needs. You hate to serve the sausge any other way, given the care that went into the preparation of it. We're used to drowning our food in condiments, probably because we've gotten so used to the blandness of mass produced goods, but when you're given the opportunity to have quality ingredients, the adage is true: less is more, and allow the food speak for itself -- it may surprise you in what it has to say.

FoodTrek: Eastside Love for Eastside Bartenders Association

I've got a cocktail glass in my hand and I'm announcing in a slightly buzzed, but ever-jovial manner, "This one's for my Eastside Bartenders Association homies." And no, I'm not spilling some onto the ground as a ceremonial gesture because the EBA would be like, "Don't waste that, you moron, that's good booze."

Calling the first meeting of Eastside Bartenders Association to order, in a totally rad way - Photo by Wasabi Prime

There's a new social group on the horizon, pard'ners, and it's one you should acquaint yourself with, if you spend any amount of time east of Seattle, which is quite a large group of people if you think about it. Seattle is a fantastic place to live and play, but the truth is a lot of jobs are located "Eastside" of the 520 Bridge. Plenty of folks have to make the trek every day across Lake Washington and do their cubicle duty, and the spreadsheets and TPS reports trail as far as the day is long. But where to go and what to drink while waiting for that unholy traffic to die down? You don't want to spend your hard-earned Benjamins on anything short of top-shelf, as you need some quality decompression time. Well, now there's a new group of cocktail-smart experts to help guide your way towards spending that time with a quality frosty beverage -- get to know the folks associated with the Eastside Bartenders Association (EBA) and let them guide your way to libation liberation. *cheers!*

Raise a glass to the talented folks behind the bar -- liquid happiness, yo - Photos by Wasabi Prime

News Flash: I'm not a bartender, and Duvall is so east of Eastside, I hesitate to even say I live in the area, given our BFE status, but that doesn't mean I can't be a big ol' cocktail groupie and support cool new associations put together by incredibly passionate, talented people. I was very pleased to attend the inaugural EBA event over at Lot No. 3 in Bellevue. It was a combination of too many things I dig the most -- amazingly talented bartenders, a bar/restaurant I love to bits and the opportunity to meet and chat with half a dozen distillers who make some rock-your-socks-off craft spirits.

You don't necessarily have to be a bartender to be a part of the EBA, just the basic requirements of: appreciate a quality cocktail (if you ask for a Lemon Drop, I'm gonna have to smack you), respect the skill and talent of a bartender who knows their craft, and an enthusiasm and willingness to appreciate all the amazing things distilleries are doing in this wild and crazy world. Do you fit these basic requirements and live within the area? Then sign up here, on EBA's "Join" page to be on the mailling list for future events.

Lot No. 3, you had me at "maple bacon." - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Does it bring a little tear of joy to your eye? The sweet and savory bacon offerings, along with creamy deviled eggs and other salty goodies graciously put together by the lovely folks at Lot No. 3 were an excellent pairing to the gauntlet of tasty samplings from a gaggle, nay, a parliament of local distillers presenting samples of their craftily-made spirits. I was, as always, very pleased to see some of my favorite folks like Orlin Sorensen from Woodinville Whiskey Company, as well as Evan Martin with Novo Fogo, and equally pleased to meet so many new people.

Whew... getting a buzz just looking at these pictures - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I finally got to meet and chat with Steven Stone of Sound Spirits in Seattle, who created the Ebb + Flow vodka and gin. My Graphic Design-Self had been drawn to them from the get-go, as I think everything about their brand is incredibly well-designed and clever, so extra super-duper props that the product is pretty darn tasty! Pacific Distillery was also there, one of the early craft distillers to set up shop in Woodinville and help rally the call to cocktail arms, showing quality small-batch liquor is market worth supporting.Their Voyager Dry Gin is one of my absolute favorites -- pick up a bottle or seven. I had the pleasure of meeting the folks at Woodinvlle-based Project V Distillery, who make a really clean, grain-sweet vodka called Single Silo; reminds me a little of a reposado tequila, the natural sweetness is that apparent, and they had a chai-infused vodka that was winning fans. Another vodka maker, Skip Rock Distillers, over in Snohomish, is making a super-flavorful potato vodka. It's got a really hearty, creamy flavor, an intentional nod to the potato, and I was telling them that it would be really good with some mac n' cheese! For those with a sweet tooth, a berry-hued gem is Sidetrack Distillery, out of Kent. They've got several berry liqueurs that include strawberry, raspberry, blueberry and blackberry. It's an intense flavor and it's something that would shine in a mixed cocktail, but even on its own, it's sweet, but not a fake candy-syrup flavor. It's like a whole berry patch was squeezed into a single bottle, sunshine and all. I also met distillers who weren't necessarily presenting at the event, but showed much promise -- check out Wishkah River Distillery out in Aberdeen; much like all these distilleries, these guys are making products that are a labor of love and they're eager to meet thirsty fans!

You'll notice if you click on a lot of these websites, it's a lot of "coming soon" or primarily Facebook pages -- consider this your ground-floor opportunity to get on board with these distilleries as they move forward towards a very hopeful future for small-batch local craft distillers. These are small, family-run companies who have local roots and want to bring a quality product to the people. With groups like the Eastside Bartenders Association, I hope it helps get the word out to encourage people to support local businesses, whether it's the folks mixing the drinks or the ones putting the drinks in the bottle.

Mixed Plate: Happy Junk Food of July!

Today's a holiday. Well, if you're in the good ol' US of A, it's a holiday. We're such independent-minded spirits, we like to celebrate in true American style by drinking copious amounts of beer before blowing stuff up, and of course, junk food. So, keep all them fingers from gettin' all blowed-up, goodly Americans -- it's the Fourth of July!

If a Filet o' Fish were from an actual fish, it would be freaky - Illustration by Wasabi Prime

You probably already saw some of these little scribbles before. They were inspired by Twitter conversations about freaky fast food choices, but with the caviat that it still won't make us lose our taste for the unholy drive thru lane. And that's kind of all-American, our independence from common sense. We don't care that ocean critters don't actually come in filets of pressed fish-flesh in perfectly square shapes, or that the sauce they douse it in is probably a third of your calorie intake for the day. We don't care that there is no anatomical part of the chicken that is a "nugget."  As Americans, we laugh boldly in the face of sanity -- I'm the first person to admit that after watching Super Size Me, while I wasn't craving a burger, during the rolling end credits of the movie, I said out loud that I still want French fries. God bless American persistence.

Chicken nuggets as actual chicks -- cute or disturbing? - Illustration by Wasabi Prime

It's obvious I didn't really have a big Fourth of July BBQ post ready -- that would have meant doing the BBQ in advance, pretending it was the Fourth and having it be all timely for the holiday. That would imply I'm prepared and on the ball. You don't know me very well if you thought that. Instead I thought, hey it's a holiday, no one's reading blogs on their one precious day off. Everyone's busy eating way too much food, right before the fireworks shows jar them awake from a massive food/booze coma. I'm likely making sure we're ready with the garden hose in hand, as where we live, there's hardly any fireworks laws and Duvall turns into the DMZ for a night. It's kind of a cool free fireworks show, with the added excitement of your house catching on fire from an errant mortar. America loves its independence so much, they'll blow everything up before letting anyone else take it away.

Microwave burritos don't have it as good as the free range ones - Illustration by Wasabi Prime

So aside from enjoying bad food that tastes good and the questionable logic behind liberal fireworks restrictions, what else can we celebrate about being all-American? Oh yes. Corn dogs. The invention that revolutionized the highly complex method of eating a hot dog, and still managed to find an excuse to add an element of deep frying. American ingenuity at its finest, and one of my childhood favorites. With any luck, my lifelong appreciation for highly processed foods will ensure that I'm as well-preserved as Roy Roger's horse, Trigger. Yee-haw, America, and happy Fourth!

Sit, corn dog, sit. Good corn dog. -  Illustration by Wasabi Prime