The Book Bindery

I've always been annoyed by immediate reviews (or blogs) about restaurants that have just opened. It doesn't seem fair to me to officially review (or even blog about) a place that is brand new. But I couldn't stay away from the Book Bindery.

So, uh, just to be clear, this is not a real review, but more of a "Hurray-it's-finally-here-and-even-though-I-loved-every-minute-of-the-meal-and-thought-the space-was-super-cool, I-can't-say-a-whole-lot-about-it-in-fairness" kind of thing. 

It's excruciating to have to restrain myself in this manner. Will definitely be going back for more in a month or two, once the subtle whiff of fresh paint dissipates.  And we'll have a second glass of that toasty and insanely marvelous champagne (Agrapart 7 Cru Cote de Blanc) at the gorgeous marble-topped bar. 

Hopefully we'll see Patric Gabre-Kidan again, and his laid-back, quietly awesome and gentlemanly presence, who no doubt recognized us from many a night hunkered down over plates at all those other good restaurants he's been a part of. The postprandial peek inside the adjacent winery and bins full of grapes, was neat to see. 

Highlights: Can't tell you. (Handmade Cavatelli with forest mushrooms, Duo of Pork, a chocolatey pot de creme dessert with a salted graham cracker, the verrry drinkable Almquist Family Vintners 2008 North Ridge Malbec)

Disappointments:  um....I've got nothing.  

Mr Pants: More impressed than I've seen him in a while. Hankering to go back. 

foodie notes: Stockholm

Swedes apparently combat a tendency toward melancholia with strong cups of coffee and large quantities of cake. (See previous post) And lots of fast walking. Stockholm was full of tall, long-striding Swedes with a gait that was far quicker than my own, and I'm known as a fast walker. I waddled along, full of cake, trying to keep up.   

I liked this city of islands and bridges, tolling church bells, ringing bicycle bells, Baltic winds and long sunsets. 
 
Swedes also seem to have the best tasting tap water and best tasting shrimp I've ever consumed. 
I ate well. A good, heavy meal was had at Pelikan, meatball in a creamy gravy, mashed potatoes, lingonberries, with a gullet-warming Snaps (an aquavit, this one fragrant with Elderflower) as my dessert. 


Eriks Bakfickan was a great spot for dinner, where I opted for a lovely, rich bouillabaise (though they called it the "seafood casserole")

Ate this lovely duck confit over bacony saurkraut with a side of potato puree at a neighborhood bistro that I long to return to, called Aubergine. This was a perfect plate. I think of it still. 

The Ostermalm Saluhall, a great food-market, with eateries throughout, in a rambling red-brick building with a perfect lunch spot at Lisa Elmqvists, where I dropped shrimp on my shirt, and, though I loved what I ate, I envied the man next to me with his buttery fried perch and wild mushrooms.  I'd be eating at the saluhall daily if I lived in Stockholm. 

Last dessert in Stockholm- at the old-school, clubby Restaurant Prinsen:  It was as showy and decadent as the waiter, who flattered me with his "Mademoiselle" s and his overwrought descriptions of the dishes, including this one as "like gold."  It was, actually, like gold. 

I didn't get to most of the restaurants on my list. Though, I can't say I regret being persuaded to visit a suburban karaoke joint. Oh. My. God. Those Swedes sure can drink.  The woman who did a face plant onto the stage, the other woman who said she was from Brazil, started to dance lasciviously to someone else's song, occasionally flashing the now slack-jawed crowd.  Good times. Will have to return with Mr. Pants. 

Fika in Stockholm

Fika is the Swedish term for a damned adorable concept. It describes a coffee break, generally in the afternoon, involving a sweet pastry. Kanelbullar (cinnamon buns) are the prevalent, popular choice.

I was devastated to learn that I'd been oblivious to Sweden's National Cinnamon Bun Day, or "Just another manic bun day" as stated in The Local, a Swedish English-language paper. October 4th it was.

I was wondering why I smelled cinnamony baked goods everywhere on the streets of Stockholm. Thought perhaps Stockholm just smelled that way, and it added to the allure of the city.

The pastry offerings at the fashionably old-school Vettekatten were too tempting to pass up. The hasty shot below is a little blurry because I was too eager to have at it. Great espresso macchiato, too.

One thing about Fika I found annoying. These places were packed, with every table taken. I was left wandering around the various rooms of these establishments, looking for a seat, coffee in one hand, pastry in the other, pacing there like a dimwit. Not sure about the seating protocol, in these joints, but eventually in each case, someone took pity on me and allowed me to sit with them.

Stockholm: Shrimp!

I've been eating a lot of tasty shrimp in Stockholm. I don't really know why it's so tremendously good here, but there you go. Super fresh, tasting of the sea. This dish was eaten at Lisa Elmqvist's bar in the Ostermalm's Saluhall, a rambling beautiful red brick structure jammed with foodstuffs for the buying, and the eating.

This little snack was purchased at the Fotografiska, a photography museum/gallery in Sodermalm. Had many lunches at museum cafes, as they tend to be good quality, and a little more reasonably priced in spendy Stockholm.

These dishes are variations of "Toast Skagen", basically a piece of toasted bread, with shrimp and other varied ingredients. The top dish doesn't show the chopped hard-boiled egg and white bread underneath the lettuce. The second shot shows shrimp over a great slice of brown bread.

With the amount of shrimp consumed on this trip, I'll come back even more pink.

On to Stockholm!

About to be strapped into a plane seat today for 8 hours, Chicago to Stockholm.

Traveling alone this time, which is unusual. Will miss Mr. Pants (and his amusing chatterings) greatly.

But, I'm calling this my "I vant to be alone" trip, because, like Garbo, I do want to be alone for a bit, somewhere I haven't been before, somewhere beautiful. Need to think about life and death and all of those heavy matters. Need to NOT be at work for a bit as well.

Some snarky comments have come my way about this- such as "Oh so you're doing an Eat Pray Love thing eh? Um, NO! At most it will be an Eat Eat Eat thing.

Will check out the Stockholm food scene, and maybe try the old traditional herring and aquavit. Lots of open face sandwiches should be coming my way, if the literature is to be believed. We shall see.

Skol!

June in Seattle

If you need a bit of warmth this autumn, go to June. The old Cremant space feels cozier, with warmer walls, and wooden tables, but retains it's cool factor.

We woke up our palates with gorgeous, crisp, radishes served with fleur de sel and butter.

Kumomoto oysters were out of this world, and I was worried when I read that they came with a peach chile granita, as I'm usually a purist with oysters. It worked beautifully. I seriously considered getting 6 more platefuls they were so insanely fantastic.

Mr. Pants got a wonderful Bavette steak with watercress and confit potatoes. Cooked perfectly, with enough sauce to swipe up with each bite. This is a terrible picture that doesn't do it justice.

I got the stuffed rabbit leg- great flavor, it did have the slight gamey texture, (it is bunny, after all) but still interesting. The creamed kale on the plate was plentiful, and I still wished there was more of it- it was that good.

Our friend boldly ordered the terrific (and scary) "Braised Lamb Neck" with hand cut pasta- served over an incredibly rich, hot broth. The waiter warned us that it was not for the faint of heart.

A Chevre creme brulee was subtle, but nice. It could have had more of that goaty flavor which I love particularly in desserts.

Bread pudding however was perfect, with just enough chocolate to add flavor and the warm, dense, soft slabs of bread were a textural marvel.

Highlights: Cocktails, oysters, steak, radishes, bread pudding.

Disappointments: Lamb neck could seriously freak out the more squeamish among us. Despite that, it was really fun to pick at, and the broth and hand cut pasta with it were superb.

Mr. Pants: A sour mood turned into a pleasant, sleepy one after eating here. Happy.

Sexy Beast - La Bête

You've created a monster, La Bête, and the monster is me. I'm afraid I'll be wanting to spend many an evening, and many a dollar at your gorgeous establishment.

The old Chez Gaudy space is anything but, with a feel that's Art Deco, Edwardian, and completely modern at the same time.

Everything was gorgeous- the people, the rich wood paneled ceiling over the bar, the tables and flatware, the metal work over the windows open to the rain, the molding on the ceiling and the round floral Edwardian ceiling light fixtures, which were little miniature chandeliers. It's a vintage dress of a place, made newly cool by timing and forethought.

Chilled cucumber soup with fresh chickpea fritter, red radish and creme fraiche. Soup was cool, minty, and somehow buttery -served on a delicate tray with matching metal-rimmed bowl. A modernized, tweaked falafel with the daintiest of presentations.

A mass of delicate corn gnocchi under a large pile of sweet dungeness crab meat was stellar.

We split the platter of expertly grilled, super-fresh Daurade, with pea vines, dried scallops and smoked bacon and every flavor worked. A fine, reasonably priced Gruner Veltliner paired perfectly with all.

Highlights: Grilled daurade, corn gnocchi with crab, ambiance.

Disappointments: The bill can add up, if you aren't paying attention. And we weren't.

Mr. Pants: Very, very impressed.