tr\u00e8s haute-cuisine dinner <\/strong>free of charge\u2014save for the tip, which, after all, is only civilized.<\/p>\nTucked away next to an alley in Seattle\u2019s Belltown district, Mistral is unassuming to the eye: a long, narrow, simply decorated space with pale walls and a tall ceiling. The restaurant was opened in January 2000 by chef William Belickis, who turns out decadent, largely French-influenced fare with an emphasis on local ingredients.<\/p>\n
We began with a Champagne whose name I\u2014falling down on the job\u2014neglected to note, and then the feast proceeded as follows:<\/p>\n
– Kusshi oyster with grapefruit slices and celery foam for the other three\u2014and for oyster-fearing me, a square filet of Arctic char on shaved white asparagus<\/strong> with some sort of green-colored and green-tasting pur\u00e9e splattered around, crunchy salt and crispy skin on top<\/p>\n– An enormous diver sea scallop (beautifully seared to a burnished brown, again with crunchy nuggets of salt; very meaty and sweet) in a smooth brown-butter and parsnip soup<\/strong> with drizzle of basil oil and spoonful of carrot foam (minerally, earthy, but I\u2019m indifferent to this foam thing) \n2002 Mason Sauvignon Blanc \n <\/em><\/p>\n– Wild Atlantic skate (a bit too salty, unfortunately) on a bed of silky cubed eggplant, thinly sliced turnips, and pearl onions, with a translucent green lettuce-and-Madras-curry sauce<\/strong>, drizzle of basil oil \n2003 Forman Napa Valley Chardonnay \n <\/em><\/p>\n– Seared Sonoma artisanal foie gras* (crowned with ubiquitous crunchy salt<\/strong>; the whole melting instantly on the tongue) on a comice pear pur\u00e9e with a passionfruit and Tahitian vanilla bean reduction, with Granny Smith apple chips. \n1988 Tokaji<\/em> (from Hungary, amber brown, sweet but clean, not cloying, raisin-y)<\/p>\n– Moulard duck or Oregon lamb chop (two of each for the table, both beautifully rare) on fingerling potato pur\u00e9e (too sweet; very odd) with Swiss chard, \u201cThumbelina\u201d carrots, chive oil, red wine reduction, and zatar-infused olive oil \n2000 Arcadian Monterey Pinot Noir<\/em><\/p>\n– Slivers of five cheeses: Pav\u00e9 de Jadis (creamy, mild goat), semi-soft Pecorino, Agour (Spanish sheep\u2019s milk), Persil de Beaujolais (cow\u2019s milk blue), Brillat Savarin (triple-cr\u00e8me cow) \nRed wine I neglected to write down, being in mid-story (Cabernet?) \n <\/em><\/p>\n– Two of each for the table: a round of genoise-ish cake topped with a quenelle of cr\u00e8me fra\u00eeche ice cream<\/strong>, with tapioca and pomegranate seeds scattered all around; and a small pot of ice cream (vanilla and something unidentifiable), a shot of hot chocolate, and two vanilla sugar cookies<\/p>\nVery inventive and absolutely exemplary all around, minus the few quibbles as noted. Thank you, L.L., for a very glamorous and delicious evening. I\u2019m a more than willing partner anytime. Another scallop, please! \n<\/em> \nBut<\/em> I have to admit (and not without some shame) that I don’t think I’m cut out for “fine dining.” I put my elbows on the table; I feel silly swirling my wine glass; and I’m worthless if you’re looking to suss out the herbs and spices in a dish. This does not bode well for a career in food writing. I need more educating, or maybe more audacity. Then again, while there is much to be said for the expert balancing of flavors that a four-star chef can achieve, satisfaction is a fine roasted chicken and a slab of ridiculously rich chocolate cake<\/strong>, honey.<\/p>\n*Although I hesitated when the head waiter asked if we were all willing to eat foie gras, I decided to nod my agreement, choosing on this occasion to overlook my ethical concerns for the sake of my palate\u2019s education. Forgive me; it was delicious, so smooth and so warm<\/strong>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Inspired by Kate\u2014who was inspired by someone else I can\u2019t remember\u2014I present the good, the very good, and the wonderful of the past week, all lumped together and in no particular order, which sort of defeats the purpose: 1. Veteran\u2019s Day afternoon with Kate: being unstylish, unshowered, and happy on a sunny day and walking arm in arm along the piers and down to Myrtle Edwards Park, after which we split a spectacularly buttery brioche (her very first!) from Le Panier, bought some deep green crinkly dinosaur kale from flirtatious vendors at the market, and talked chamois creme. 2. Meeting a real, live (ex-)break dancer. Bonus points for recent thumb injuries incurred while break dancing at parties. Yeow. 3. A…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
The good, the very good, and the wonderful | Orangette<\/title>\n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n\t \n\t \n\t \n