Last weekend, I had the opportunity to dine at the Willows Inn on Lummi Island. The Willows Inn restaurant has been receiving nonstop accolades ever since Blaine Wetzel took over as head chef in 2010. The New York Times declared it one of ten restaurants worth a plane ride. Chef Wetzel, who is only in his mid-twenties, is widely regarded as a rising star in the American culinary scene. He was trained at the renowned Noma restaurant in Copenhagen which many say is the best restaurant in the world. At Willows Inn, Wetzel has combined his expert training with a near-obsessive focus on local, seasonal ingredients—with very few exceptions, everything served at the restaurant is foraged or grown on the island or very close by. Buzz like this is hard for a food fanatic like me to ignore–it was finally time to give Willows Inn a try.

Lummi Island is located about two hours north of Seattle. To get there, head north on I-5 to the Gooseberry Point ferry dock near Bellingham. For the best views, take scenic Chuckanut Drive (be sure to stop by Taylor Shellfish Farms on the way for a picnic lunch of fresh oysters). A brief but thrilling ride on the Whatcom Chief Ferry takes you across the bay to Lummi Island (note: the ferry is tiny & open to the elements–keep your windows rolled up to avoid getting hit with sea spray!). From the ferry dock, Willows Inn is just a short drive north around the tip of the island. You will be treated along the way to amazing views of the water, mountains and neighboring Orcas Island.

After checking into our suite a few miles down the road, we headed back to the main building for pre-dinner cocktails. The bar at Willows Inn is cozy and cute with limited seating. You can hang out there or do what most people do and take your drinks into the main lobby/living room/social area. Here you will find a crackling fireplace and a fantastic view of the water. Guests mingle with drinks in hand, anxiously waiting to be called in for dinner. The excitement in the air is palpable, and it gains in intensity as the dinner hour approaches. Sipping my Boulevardier Cocktail by the fire, chatting with friends, and looking out on the beautiful scenery–I was already having such a good time, if dinner ended up being a disappointment, I almost wouldn’t have minded. Of course, it wasn’t.

Immediately upon being seated, we were welcomed with champagne flutes of hard cider from nearby Friday Harbor. This cider was unlike any I’d had before—it was incredibly light and effervescent making it a great match for the food we were about to have. Moments later, the snacks started arriving, brought out to the table by the various chefs responsible for cooking the meal. Technically, dinner at the Willows Inn is five courses. However, you are provided with so many additional small bites, that the meal seems never-ending. We were served twenty separate treats throughout the evening. Early highlights included a crisp potato chip topped with homemade sauerkraut and buttery black cod and a kale “toast” with roasted porcini mushrooms and rye bread crumbs. A tiny cube of seared venison heart seasoned with red currant and rose was a delicious surprise. Naturally, given the setting, we were served smoked salmon. As expected, it was the best I’ve ever had—delicate, tender, smoky, and a bit sweet.

Entrees included hearty whole grains dressed in an impossibly green puree evocative of fresh grass in the springtime. This was topped with slices of geoduck which the chef oh-so-casually informed us had been “alive three seconds ago”. A nettle and fiddlehead fern salad was garnished with cheese so fresh that it was practically quivering. My favorite of the entrees was a seared steelhead trout garnished with foraged sea beans and house-pickled capers. The richness of the fish was nicely balanced by the briny sea beans and capers. Desserts were equally exquisite. Sweet and tart rose hip ice cream was followed by a cheese and venison prosciutto plate and a bite-sized caramel with flax seeds. The most exciting dessert was the gin candy! It was like a boozy, piney after dinner mint.

My dinner at the Willows Inn was one of the top five dining experiences of my life. You leave the restaurant with such a strong sense of what the island has to offer. Throughout the entire meal, the forest and the sea are front and center. A meal like this just wouldn’t be the same in the city. There is something about being surrounded by the things that you are eating that makes it taste so much better. As I was exploring the island the next day, I kept having different taste memories from the meal. A whiff of the briny sea reminded me of the pickled oysters with sorrel I’d just had. Stepping over a mound of damp, mossy earth, I couldn’t help but think of the earthy shiitake mushrooms, perfectly grilled and adorned with nothing but sea salt.

Dining at the Willows Inn is not cheap. You also have to factor in the cost of a ferry trip and a room on the island (believe me; you won’t want to have to drive back to Seattle after this meal). I could try and tell you that it is worth every penny, but that really depends on who you are and how far you are willing to go for a great meal. To my mind, the adventure and the meal is worth the cost, but it’s not something I’ll be able to do again any time soon. If you are looking to treat yourself to something unique and local and don’t mind splurging, then dinner at Willows Inn is worth checking out. When I strike it rich one day, I know where I’ll be celebrating!

I’ve become really interested in Chinese food over the past few months. Perhaps it is due to the recent explosion of Chinese restaurants opening up in my neighborhood, or maybe it’s because I’ve started fully embracing meat as part of my diet and am now free to enjoy all of China’s wonderful meat-based dishes. Whatever the reason, this is a cuisine that’s really hitting it’s peak with me right now. It is also one I haven’t explored much beyond simple stir-fries and noodle dishes, most of which weren’t very authentic anyway.

My fascination with Chinese food started earlier this year when I sampled the Gua Bao (pork belly buns) at Chino’s, a new Taiwanese-Mexican joint that opened up down the street from me. Gua Bao are steamed buns filled with braised pork belly and topped with pickled mustard greens and chopped peanuts. They are a perfect food in my book: sweet, savory, rich, crunchy, and a bit sour thanks to the mustard greens. I could happily eat these every day for the rest of my life. Chino’s also offers other interesting Chinese dishes such as Zha Jiang Mian (rice noodles with minced pork and hot bean paste), 1,000-Year-Old Egg with Tofu, and Pig’s Ear Salad (which I haven’t been brave enough to try…yet).

Inspired by the new and exciting and food I’d sampled at Chino’s, I decided to try my hand at Hong Shao Rou (Red-Braised Pork), a traditional dish from the Hunan province of China. For this dish, I braised pork belly for several hours in a mixture of dark & light soy sauce, caramelized sugar, Chinese rice wine, ginger, cinnamon, and star anise. The aroma of the braising liquid as it was cooking was incredible. Pork belly can be overwhelmingly fatty and, although my Hong Shao Rou tasted fantastic, I actually found it to be unbearably rich as a standalone dish. On the other hand, a little bit tucked into a steamed bun for Gua Bao or (as I did with my leftovers) inside a toasted baguette with carrot and daikon pickles for bahn mi, and this dish goes from too rich to absolutely perfect.

This week, I decided to try another famous Chinese dish: Mapo Tofu. Mapo Tofu is a casual, everyday dish from the Sichuan province that is known for being especially spicy. It is easy to make but will require a trip to your local Asian grocery store for some specialty ingredients. To make this dish, you need fermented Chinese black beans, chili bean paste (also called hot bean paste) and Sichuan peppercorns. If you’ve never had Sichuan peppercorns before, be forewarned: eat enough of them and your mouth will go numb. I picked some up during my lunch break from work and then nibbled on a few once I got back to my desk. They start off with a deceptively mild peppery flavor, but that soon gives way to a tingly numbing sensation. It’s a strange feeling but one that is somewhat addictive. After the numbness had died down, I couldn’t resist grabbing a few more peppercorns to chew on.

Once you have the necessary ingredients, Mapo Tofu is exceedingly easy to prepare. Simply brown some ground beef or pork in a hot wok, stir-fry your various flavorings, add stock and tofu, simmer until thickened, and garnish with chopped scallions and ground Sichuan peppercorns to taste. The result is a very spicy, highly flavorful dish. Depending on how much Sichuan pepper you add at the end, you will either experience a mild tingly sensation or a full-on mouth assault. Since I love spicy foods, I brashly added 2 heaping teaspoons of pepper to my dish. It felt slightly more like a trip to the dentist than dinner–Sichuan pepper may be one of those things you need to slowly become accustomed to (once again, however, after the numbness was over, I found myself craving more). I made a second batch of Mapo Tofu a few days later using less pepper, and it was perfect. If you love spicy dishes, you won’t want to miss this one. I wonder what new, exciting (and possibly tingly!) Chinese dish I’ll discover next?

Mapo Tofu

3 tbsp peanut oil
6 oz ground pork or beef
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbsp fermented black beans, rinsed and minced
2 1/2 tbsp chili bean paste
1 cup chicken stock or water
2 tsp sugar
2 tsp soy sauce
1 lb soft or medium tofu, drained and cut into cubes
1 tbsp cornstarch mixed with 2 tbsp cold water
4 scallions, thinly sliced
1/2 to 2 tsp ground toasted Sichuan pepper*

Heat a wok over high heat, then add the oil. Brown the pork or beef in the hot oil, breaking it up into small bits. Turn the heat down to medium, add the garlic and black beans, and stir-fry for 30 to 60 seconds. Add the chili bean paste and stir-fry for another 30 to 60 seconds. Stir in the stock or water, sugar and soy sauce. Add the tofu cubes. Mix gently to avoid breaking up the tofu too much. Simmer for a few minutes, then add the cornstarch mixture and cook until the sauce has thickened (this should happen right away). Sprinkle with the scallions and Sichuan pepper, to taste.

Makes 3 to 4 servings

*Sichuan peppercorns are typically toasted before being ground. Heat the peppercorns in a dry wok over medium heat, stirring often, until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Allow to cool, then grind in a spice grinder or using a mortar and pestle.

My family continued our tradition of bouncing around the globe for Christmas Eve dinner. This year, we landed on North Africa! This is a region we’ve never explored which meant experimenting with lots of new spices and flavors. We were inspired in part by Golden Beetle, a new Mediterranean and North African restaurant close to my parents’ house in Ballard. My mom and sister and I actually did some of our menu planning over lunch at Golden Beetle. We sorted out the last details and received some final inspiration while sampling Golden Beetle’s delicious and exotic cuisine.

The evening was kicked off with Pomegranate Bellinis and appetizers. We made several tasty dips which we served with warm pita triangles. The Chevre with Pistachios and Honey was surprisingly delicious given how few ingredients the recipe called for. The Muhammara was the true hit of the evening. Muhammara is a walnut and roasted red pepper dip flavored with cumin and pomegranate molasses. It is fruity and spicy and quite exotic. My mom loves the Muhammara at Golden Beetle. Ours turned out different from theirs but no less delicious. Rounding out the appetizers was a Fava Bean Puree, Marcona Almonds, and Mixed Olives.

The appetizers threatened to steal the show, but the main dinner certainly didn’t disappoint. Our two main courses were Moroccan Spiced Lamb Meatballs with Yogurt-Mint Sauce and Fish Tagine with Preserved Lemons and Olives. The fish turned out excellent, especially considering that we sort of made it up as we went along (ours was loosely based on this recipe from Paula Wolfert). The fish is marinated in a charmoula sauce made from cilantro, parsley, paprika and preserved lemons. After marinating, it is layered in a tagine (or large pan in our case) with sliced carrots, celery, green bell pepper, tomatoes and more charmoula. This is then topped with olives and preserved lemon peel (we actually used fresh lemon slices since they looked prettier) and cooked over low heat until the fish is done and the vegetables are tender. It was a very spicy and flavorful stew which I am looking forward to making again.

Side dishes included Saffron Couscous with Toasted Almonds, a Spinach Salad with Harissa Vinaigrette, and Roasted Cauliflower and Shallots with Chard and Dukkah (recipe courtesy of Seattle’s own The Corson Building). Dukkah is a very interesting Egyptian spice mix made from hazelnuts, sesame seeds, coriander seeds, and cumin seeds, all toasted and finely ground. It was so tasty that I couldn’t stop snacking on it throughout the day. Even my two year-old nephew kept asking for more.

This year’s Christmas Eve feast was somewhat experimental for us, but it turned out fantastic and we came out of it with several new favorite dishes. I plan on making Dukkah on a regular basis (as a topping or possibly just as a snack) and given how much she raved about it, I’m pretty sure my Mom will always have some Muhammara on hand. I’m excited to find out where in the world we will land next Christmas!

Muhammara

1/3 cup walnut pieces, toasted
2 tablespoons bread crumbs
2 large roasted red bell peppers
1 tablespoon freshly-squeezed lemon juice
2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Salt
Pitas, for serving

Add the walnuts and bread crumbs to a food processor and process until the walnuts are finely ground. Add the remaining ingredients and process until smooth. Add salt to taste. Serve with warm pitas.

Makes 4 to 6 servings

After decades of apartment living, one of the things I was most excited about when Robert and I bought our home last year was finally having my own outdoor patio. Although we were heading into winter when we moved in and wouldn’t be able use it right away, I spent all winter and spring imagining myself lounging outside on the patio in the summer with a book and a delicious cocktail. As summer approached, I realized that our patio gets unusually hot. It’s great for morning coffee and perfect for evening cocktails, but step outside in the middle of a warm, sunny day and you’re wilting within minutes. My patio my be too hot for the summertime lounging that I had imagined, but it turned out to be ideal for growing my first crop of tomatoes.

I had never grown tomatoes before so I knew I was going to need some help. Early in the summer, my mom and I headed to the nursery to pick up supplies and tomato starts. I chose three varieties: Sun Gold, Carmello and Matina. Sun Gold was an obvious choice. Everyone in Seattle grows these cherry tomatoes and for good reason. They grow well here and are amazingly sweet with an irresistible tropical flavor. Carmello, a French variety, is a basic red slicing tomato. My last choice, Matina, was perhaps most interesting to me. With its unusual potato-style leaves, the Matina is a small red tomato with a flavor said to rival that of the larger beefsteak. It ripens early and often making it a great choice for our cool Pacific Northwest climate.

I planted the tomatoes on my birthday in mid-June and then sat back and hoped for the best. I can’t say I took great care of them. I learned a little too late about this stuff called “fertilizer” which is supposed to be helpful, and I probably over-watered at times and under-watered at others. My attempts to keep the tomatoes tied to bamboo stakes in an orderly manner were sub par at best. The tomato plants held in there, though. Watching them grow taller and bushier and then sprout beautiful yellow flowers which later turned into tiny pea-sized fruit made me happier than I had anticipated. However, when August started and I still didn’t have any ripe tomatoes, I started to worry. The summer had been cooler and grayer than usual—maybe I wouldn’t have any tomatoes at all!

After so much anticipation, three Sun Golds were finally ready. I brought them inside, gently sliced them into halves and carefully set them on top of a salad. They were the most delectable tomatoes I’ve ever had! Ten days later, I had my first ripe Matina. It was about the size of a golf ball, perfectly round and with a striking red color. I served this in a salad as well. Unlike the Sun Golds, which have their own unique floral flavor, the Matina tasted more like a traditional tomato (a super-delicious traditional tomato). I found that I prefer the smaller size of the Matina compared with a regular tomato—it’s small enough that you can quarter it for salads but still large enough to be sliced for sandwiches. One by one, my tomatoes were finally starting to ripen. Then, we hit a patch of nice weather and things got crazy.

Suddenly we were faced with an overabundance of tomatoes, more than any normal person could handle. We had treated our first few tomatoes like rare, precious jewels. Now we considered throwing them at passing cars for fun. I gave them away to family and co-workers, but that still barely made a dent. Just when I thought I had a grip on things, I’d step outside and see even more tomatoes ripening! Tough life, I know. While the Sun Golds and Matinas were numbering into the hundreds, the Carmellos were a disappointment. I only harvested a few ripe Carmellos and half of those had sun scald. They were also my least favorite tomato flavor-wise. I know lots of people love Carmellos, but they didn’t work out for me this year. Our cooler-than-normal summer really favored tomatoes with a shorter growing season such as the Sun Golds and Matinas.

As for what I have done with all of these tomatoes? What haven’t I done! BLTs, salads, salsas, soups, tomato tarts and broiled tomato sandwiches—we’ve been sneaking tomatoes into everything. At one meal, in very Top Chef fashion, we had tomatoes served “two ways”. One of the best dishes I made was pasta with clams and Sun Golds—with a chilled glass of wine and some simple steamed green beans, it was a perfect summertime meal. I frequently resorted to slow-roasting tomatoes in a low oven, a great way to reduce a lot of tomatoes to a small pile of sweet tomato candy that can be used in a million different ways (we enjoyed it over pasta and on crostini with goat cheese and basil).

Desperate for yet another way to use the tomatoes, I looked to my other favorite pastime: cocktails. Sure enough, the Internet provided plenty of ideas. I tried the Sun Gold Zinger, a gin based drink featuring muddled Sun Golds and lemon juice. Somehow it tasted exactly like fresh-squeezed orange juice. Now that the season is coming to an end, I’m turning my attention to recipes for green tomatoes. I probably have enough unripe tomatoes left to make a few batches of salsa verde and maybe, if I’m feeling adventurous, a green tomato pie. I spent all of last winter imagining myself lounging on the patio during the summer. This winter, I’ll be dreaming about what next summer’s tomato crop will look like!

Sangrita, which means “little blood” in Spanish, is a traditional accompaniment for tequila. With origins dating back to the 1920’s, this non-alcoholic beverage is meant to highlight the flavor of the tequila and alleviate some of the burn from the alcohol. It is traditionally served with blanco tequila but may also be served with reposado. Although some may call it a chaser, it is really meant to be sipped alternately with the tequila, complementing the tequila’s flavor and cleansing the palate between sips. The original version, hailing from the state of Jalisco, was made using Seville oranges and pomegranate juice, with powdered chilies added for heat. Lime juice and savory ingredients such as salt or white onion are sometimes added. Somewhere along the way, people started adding tomato juice to their sangrita, most likely in attempt to mimic the red color of the traditional versions. This modern style is extremely popular in America and many parts of Mexico these days—so much so, that many people insist this version is, in fact, the real sangrita. Whether you prefer authentic recipes or creative new approaches, it seems there is a sangrita out there for everyone.

We first learned about sangrita from Robert’s mom and her husband Mario. They sampled it during a trip to Mexico and started making their own version after returning home. Based on their rough description and a few recipes found online, we decided to give it a try. Our first attempts were less than spectacular. Now, trapped by the sudden rainstorm, we had an opportunity to watch the master at work! For his sangrita, Mario juiced 2 oranges, 1 grapefruit, 2 lemons and a handful of limes. To this, he added the tiniest amount of minced garlic and ginger and a few pinches of red chile powder. He then blended everything to get the chile powder to mix in uniformly. We took a moment to relax and admire the power of the sudden storm while sipping our sangrita and tequila. It was a nice treat. Citrus and chile are always a perfect match for tequila. The garlic and ginger provided the right amount of savory while keeping the sangrita from being too salsa-y. Mario’s sangrita is not complicated or fancy, but it was the perfect pick me up for an otherwise dreary afternoon.

Robert and I decided to give mixing up our own sangrita another try this weekend. We opted for a simplified version of Mario’s sangrita, using only freshly-squeezed lime and orange juice rather than the full citrus spectrum (I don’t have a fancy automatic citrus juicer like Mario does, and my spindly arms can only do so much with a hand-held juicer). We then added powdered red chile and a touch of garlic and ginger as a nod to Mario’s recipe. For an authentic touch, we added a splash of pomegranate juice. It definitely gave the sangrita that deep red color that the name implies. We blended it up and served it alongside Aha Toro reposado. It was delicious! It really highlighted the tequila’s sweet flavor.

Sangrita is one of those things just encourages experimentation. I wouldn’t mind trying a version made with cucumber or jicama. Or, you could use blood oranges for their red color. Robert and I even pondered the possibility of experimenting with beets. They would certainly fill the red requirement, and I’d be curious how their earthy flavor would pair with tequila. If you enjoy sipping tequila and are looking for a new way of serving it this summer, give sangrita a try. It’s a fun way to drink tequila with friends, whether you’re relaxing out in the sunshine or suddenly stuck in a rainstorm.

Living in the city certainly has its advantages—our neighborhood has a couple of great community parks and many of our favorite restaurants are within walking distance. One of the downsides of city life is having limited personal outdoor space. After spending the last decade and a half living in apartments without any deck or balcony whatsoever, Robert and I finally have our very own sliver of outdoor space. It’s not much, but I’m thrilled about it! This summer, I plan on doing many of the things that people with large yards do…just on a much smaller scale. Relaxing outdoors with a book and a margarita—yes! Planting my very own herb and tomato garden—already done! Grilling all manner of delicious foods—absolutely!

Sure, you can “grill” indoors using a grill pan or a broiler, but it’s not the same and usually results in a smoke-filled apartment. It’s difficult to enjoy dinner when you are coughing and fighting with the smoke detector. Now that I finally had my own mini deck, I needed to find a grill to fit it. As much as I’d love to have a big, swanky grill, that just wasn’t realistic. Small and efficient was the goal here. I decided to go with the O-Grill 3000 Portable Gas Barbecue Grill. This grill is great—completely portable, easy to set up and it comes in cute colors too! At 225 square inches, the grilling surface is surprisingly large for a portable grill. The O-Grill turns on in seconds and is fully heated in five to ten minutes. It couldn’t be easier!

I decided to give my new O-Grill a whirl for Robert’s birthday dinner. I chose something I knew would work well—mackerel. Mackerel is a delicious, flavorful fish that works magically on the grill. It is so oily that perfect grill marks are pretty much guaranteed. I threw a couple of fillets on my hot O-Grill, and they immediately started sizzling and smoking furiously. It smelled amazing. A few minutes later, I had some beautifully crisp and moist mackerel fillets. I served them over Sicilian-style pasta with fennel, currants and pine nuts.

Since then, I’ve had success making grilled zucchini (a personal favorite), grilled lemongrass shrimp with Vietnamese rice noodle salad, and beef sliders which we topped with kimchi and fried eggs! For my birthday, Robert and I decided to celebrate by grilling some fresh trout. We kept things simple, filling the fish with lemon slices and a little rosemary (freshly harvested from my very own outdoor space!). We grilled the trout along with some beautiful Alm Hill Garden’s asparagus. The trout ended up being perfectly cooked—moist and tender with grill marks rivaling those of the mackerel. Another perfect birthday meal! The O-grill might not seem like a serious grill, but compromise is another part of city life and so far I am quite happy with the results. I’m looking forward to grilling many things this summer. Corn, pizza, fruit—the possibilities are endless. What’s your favorite thing to grill?

Robert and I have fallen into a pretty steadfast routine of dining out every Friday and Saturday and cooking meals at home Sunday through Wednesday. Thursday has always been our “do your own thing” night. Leftovers, frozen dinners, whatever random collection of edible items you can scrounge together are yours for the taking. As much as I enjoy cooking and dining out, I secretly look forward to Thursdays since it is sort of a night off for me. Since I’m not a fan of frozen dinners and I tend to save leftovers for lunch, I usually still end up doing some cooking. The key is finding meals that can be prepared in 20 minutes or less with minimal effort. My favorite Thursday meal is frozen potato pierogies with a side of sautéed cabbage and onions. It’s healthy-ish and quick to make. I can’t eat this every Thursday so I’m always on the lookout for new quick dinners. Enter Doenjang Jjigae.

Doenjang jjigae is a Korean tofu stew made using fermented bean paste. It may not be as well known in this country as bulgogi and bi bim bap, but doenjang jjigae is a staple everyday dish in many Korean homes. The primary ingredient in doenjang jjigae is doenjang paste, a fermented soybean paste similar to miso although with a much coarser texture. In addition jjigae, doenjang paste is used as a general condiment and to make ssamjang, a sauce for Korean lettuce wraps. It is quite pungent and salty and may not be to everyone’s liking. If you love stinky, fermented foods like I do, you will probably enjoy this. Doenjang paste is sold in plastic tubs in Asian markets.

Few people follow a strict recipe for doenjang jjigae—there are as many different ways to make it as there are cooks. The general procedure is simple. You start by making a broth. Koreans usually make their broth by boiling dried anchovies and kelp in water—a small handful of anchovies should be enough to flavor 2 to 3 cups of water. While the broth is going, portion out a spoonful of doenjang paste into a bowl. Start with a small amount and work your way up—it is quite salty so you don’t want to overdo it. If you like, you can also add a dollop of the spicy red chili paste known as gochujang to the bowl along with the doenjang. After the broth has cooked for 10 minutes or so, strain out the anchovies and kelp. Add a small amount of the hot broth to the bowl and mash the doenjang paste with a fork to break it up. Add that mixture back to the pot along with whatever vegetables and proteins you are using and boil until done!

This is such an easy dish to prepare, and it’s so versatile. Most recipes call for potato, onion, zucchini and tofu, but I use this dish as a way to use up whatever ingredients I have leftover in the fridge that week. Doenjang jjigae can be made with anything from shrimp and corn and jalapeños to beef and shiitake mushrooms. I’ve tried it using a broth made from bonito flakes instead of anchovies—it was good but didn’t have the same pungent aroma (much to Robert’s delight, I’m sure). Doenjang jjigae isn’t meant to be served spicy, but I’ve been known to throw in some cayenne pepper when I’m craving something hot. The one ingredient I do always try to include is the tofu just to keep things somewhat traditional and because tofu is so good for you. For a while now, I’ve been saying that Korean food will be the next big thing. Once people discover doenjang jjigae, it’s only a matter of time. This quick, adaptable, comforting dish is perfect for my Thursday night meals!

Bourbon: My parents gave Robert a bottle of Blanton’s Single Barrel Bourbon for Christmas this year. Blanton’s, which came onto the market in 1984, was the very first single barrel bourbon in the country. Most distillers blend bourbons from different barrels in order to achieve a uniform & reliable whiskey. Blanton’s bourbon is not blended; instead, individual barrels are constantly monitored so that each one can be bottled at the peak of perfection. Because every barrel ages a little bit differently, each bottle of Blanton’s is unique. Blanton’s is not cheap, but it is an exceptional bourbon and worth every penny. If you are on a budget, a great option is Russell’s Reserve. Russell’s Reserve is a 10 year old bourbon distilled by Wild Turkey’s master distiller, Jimmy Russell. It isn’t nearly as rich or full-bodied as Blanton’s but, for the price, it is a surprisingly good sipping bourbon. And because it is relatively inexpensive, you won’t feel bad using it for cocktails. Russell’s has become the go to bourbon in our household. Splurging on a high-end bourbon might not always be possible, but having a bottle Russell’s on hand is a solid alternative.

Scotch: While perusing the scotch offerings at Dinette recently, Robert noticed a scotch that he was unfamiliar with: McCarthy’s by Oregon’s Clear Creek Distillery. Scotch…from Oregon? That’s heresy! OK, so it isn’t really a scotch—no whiskey outside of Scotland is allowed to be called scotch—but it is a single malt made from peat-malted Scottish barley and it does claim to be made in the Islay tradition. That sounds pretty darn close to scotch to me. We couldn’t resist trying it and boy are we glad we did! It was buttery and caramely and incredibly smooth. And like a good Islay scotch, it was heavy on the peat. I couldn’t stop smelling the glass long after the last drop was gone. I picked up a bottle at my local liquor store the very next day. I was prepared to hang my head in shame at the idea of buying this “scotch” from Oregon, but the gentleman behind the counter couldn’t say enough nice things about it. Neither can I. I love to rip on all things Oregon, but they got this one right! Pick up a bottle of McCarthy’s as a surprise for your scotch-loving friends.

Rye: After prohibition, rye whiskey fell out of favor and almost disappeared entirely. It has been experiencing a bit of a revival lately, and new brands of rye are cropping up across the country. It can still be hard to find a good bottle of rye in Washington State so we were surprised to see at least five or six different options on the menu at our neighborhood bar, Liberty. Our bartender had us sample several including Whistlepig Straight Rye, Pappy Van Winkle Rye and High West Rendezvous Rye from Utah State. The High West was our favorite hands down. Utah may not be known for its alcohol, but this rye was lovely—sweet and smooth with a perfect amount of that spicy, dry character rye is known for. This well-balanced whiskey is a great choice for anyone who is new to rye. If you want to try a more rugged rye, I suggest Hudson Manhattan Rye by Tuthilltown Spirits in New York State. This was the first rye whiskey to be made in New York since prohibition. It is strikingly different from anything I’ve had before. Unlike most whiskeys which tend to be sweet up front with slowly emerging bitter flavors, the Hudson Rye hits you with a bitterness right away and then finishes sweeter (though not too sweet…this is rye after all). Hudson Rye’s bold taste might not be for everyone. I’ve enjoyed sipping it neat, but I’m really looking forward to mixing it with some Carpano Antica and one of my homemade maraschino cherries for a truly deluxe Manhattan. In less than a year, I’ve gone from hating the sweetest of bourbons to being able to enjoy an assertive rye whiskey. A new world of rich and delicious drinking has been opened up to me, and I am loving it!

Another Christmas and another fantastic Christmas Eve dinner! In my family, we do things a little bit differently for Christmas. If you’ve read my previous holiday entries, you know that each year we choose a different regional theme for our Christmas Eve feast. Past years have included Scandinavian, Indian, Cajun, and Greek. We’ve been doing this for a long time now and have nearly covered the globe. While it’s fun to choose a brand new locale, every few years we return to Mexico. Everyone in my family loves to eat tamales at Christmas, and we can only go so many years without having them. This year, I had a brilliant idea—instead of doing a generic Mexican meal, we could focus specifically on the foods of the Yucatan! I ate lots of delicious dishes when I visited that region earlier this year so I knew it would be a good choice. It would allow us to explore a new cuisine while still providing a venue for our beloved tamales.

Yucatecan cuisine blends local Mayan flavors with Caribbean, Mexican, European and Middle Eastern influences resulting in what some argue is the world’s first fusion cuisine. It is very distinct from what we typically think of as Mexican food. Perhaps the most famous dish from this region is cochinita pibil, a rich and flavorful pork stew. Robert sampled cochinita pibil in Tulum and loved it. In fact, that dish was the primary reason that I suggested doing a Yucatan feast in the first place. The key to cochinita pibil is recado rojo, a seasoning paste made from annatto seeds (which give it a striking red color) and various spices including cinnamon, allspice and cumin. Recado rojo is a critical component of Mayan cuisine—we used it in at least three of our dishes. To make cochinita pibil, you marinate cubes of pork overnight in the recado and some fresh citrus juice (we did a combination of grapefruit, orange and lime). Then you line a casserole dish with banana leaves and bake the pork until it falls apart. It can be served as a stew over rice or, like we did, as a filling for fresh corn tortillas. Either way, cochinita pibil wouldn’t be complete without the essential garnish of pickled red onions. They provide a bright flavor contrast to the rich stew and are pretty too!

The other major dish this Christmas was, not surprisingly, the tamales! Tamales in the Yucatan are different from tamales in other parts of Mexico. The masa dough in Yucatecan tamales is typically flavored with the all-important recado rojo. Diced tomatoes are usually present, either in the masa or in the filling. Also, the filling is commonly thickened by cooking some of the masa dough in broth (this masa-thickened sauce is called a kol). For our tamales, we simmered chicken with fresh tomato and recado rojo and then shredded it. Next, we thickened the leftover broth with the masa and added the shredded chicken back in. I could have eaten a big bowl of this on its own with a spoon, but it was even better inside tamales. Our masa dough wasn’t too shabby either. We were unable to obtain quality fresh masa so we tried Rick Bayless‘ substitute masa which is made by mixing pulverized corn grits with the powdered masa that you find in big bags in Mexican markets. This is supposed to do a better job of mimicking the masa dough that you typically see in Mexico. It had a more subtle corn taste than what I’m used to, but the texture was light and airy and perfect! Our Christmas Eve tamales came pretty darn close to the wonderful fresh tamales Robert and I ate in Xcalak last winter.

Rounding out the meal was a terrific coconut fish stew made with green plantains, sweet bell pepper and—you guessed it—more recado rojo. We also made black beans with epazote, white rice (pilaf-style, as is the custom in Mexico), and a simple spinach salad topped with oranges and jicama. To drink, we served up a family favorite: sangria. It wasn’t as elaborate as some of our past meals have been, but it was certainly delicious and memorable. In my family, if there are tamales on the table, it is guaranteed to be a slam dunk! Happy holidays!

Almost immediately, I began warming up to the idea. I’m not much of a vodka drinker, but this combination sounded unusual and I could picture myself becoming a convert. Jen whipped up a drink for me using a hefty pour of beet vodka, fresh lemon and lime juice, simple syrup and a splash of raspberry liqueur. It was seriously beety…and absolutely delicious! The sweet raspberry flavor was perfectly offset by the earthiness of the beets. It tasted great and seemed almost healthy. Beets and citrus are supposed to be good for your liver so it makes perfect sense to mix them with alcohol. I started referring to this drink as “The Detox”!

The next morning, my eyes drifted up toward a bottle of vodka that had been gathering dust on top of my fridge for, oh, the last five years or so. It was time to put it to good use. I headed down to the farmers’ market to pick up some fresh red beets for my own beet-infused vodka. Making beet vodka couldn’t be easier. Simply add three or four peeled and quartered beets to a jar, fill with vodka and let sit for three days, stirring occasionally. Strain out the beets and you’re done! Easy and entertaining too. It’s fun to watch the vodka go from a lovely fuchsia color to a deep, rich red. You can pour the vodka into a nice bottle if you wish although it looks quite striking in the the jar—like something you might find in a mad scientist’s kitchen or a biology lab.

Now that my beet-infused vodka was ready, it was time for some experimentation. First up, a beety Manhattan for Robert. For this, I simply replaced the vermouth in my Manhattan recipe with beet vodka. This makes for a pretty serious drink: dry, spicy and earthy with none of the sweetness that vermouth normally provides. Robert likes hearty drinks so he enjoyed it. For myself, I went in a completely different direction. I placed a small rosemary sprig and a few slices of fresh ginger into a cocktail shaker along with beet vodka, lime juice and a touch of simple syrup. I shook it up, strained it into a chilled martini glass and garnished with a rosemary sprig. To intensify the aroma of the rosemary, I quickly ran a lit match along its needles before dropping it in the glass. This isn’t necessary, but it’s a nice touch. The piney fragrance of the rosemary and the heat and spice from the ginger complemented the earthy beets well. With its beautiful ruby red color and enticing pine scent, my beet-rosemary cocktail proved to be a perfect choice for this holiday season!