Whatever you love, you are

부모님 가시기 전날 Mount Rainier 까지의 길을 학습하기 위해 길을 나섰다. (꾸불꾸불 산길을 오르느라 손에 힘 꽉 주고 핸들 잡았다.) 길만 한번 익히면 혼자서도 가벼운 산책/등산 겸으로 찾을 수 있을까 하는 희망을 가졌었다.

입구까지는 잘 통과했으나 조금 더 올라가려니 저 얼음길은 절대 혼자서 또는 이 차로 오를만한 길이 아님을 깨닫고 얌전히 다시 출구로...

입구와 가장 가까운 트레일입구, Kautz Trail.

언제쯤이면 나도 이 차로 운전/날씨 걱정 않고 레이니어산을 오를 수 있을런지.

레이니어산/공원에서 나온지 30분 정도 후, Bellevue 를 향해 북동쪽으로 향하는 도중 찾은 scenic view:

You could call mezcal the new tequila, except it's not tequila, and it's not new (not to mention that if you did, you'd be one of those people who calls this the new that). While tequila is a kind of mezcal, the opposite is not true, and people in Oaxaca have been making it approximately forever. The bar at Queen Anne's Mezcaleria Oaxaca—the new sibling to Ballard's very-much-loved La Carta de Oaxaca—has every mezcal available in Washington State. Mezcal is probably a bit of an acquired taste, though if you always wanted your tequila to have both its own head-rush high note of alcoholic strength and a woody, smoky element like certain Scotch, you're going to love it. Good mezcal, like good Scotch, is eminently sippable; if you want to do shots of either, well, it's your life.

The bartender at Mezcaleria Oaxaca will also make you a mezcalerita ($9), a margarita made with mezcal (which is really best alone; this tastes like a margarita with a dash of Liquid Smoke). He is very busy shaking these and the house margaritas (a pint glass of Sauza Silver, lots of lime, not too much triple sec, $8) in the glow of the bar, which is right where you walk in, all warm and welcoming. (He will not make you anything blended. They do not have a blender.) There is so much stuff on the walls—millions of gorgeous photos of Oaxaca by local photographer Spike Mafford (the cowboy is exceptionally wonderful), mirrors, machetes, glass-front cabinets, metal funnels, an ex-voto painting (sadly, too high to read). Up above, there's an intimidatingly large taxidermied turkey. It's busy and bright, and music with lots of horns plays; the second you step inside, you're automatically having a good night.

If you've been to La Carta, you're not going to be surprised by how good the food is here, except maybe the goat. The barbacoa de cabrito ($13) is marinated in chili-magic, then roasted slowly in a shiny metal roaster in the corner of the back room. (You'll find the pico de gallo and two more salsas in the opposite corner; it's festive to sit back there, though it's lit more like you're operating on your food than eating it.) Over two dinners at Mezcaleria Oaxaca, the goat was the only thing I wished was bigger in portion—not that it's small, but you just want the entire goat. It's smoky but not too smoky, spicy but not too hot, with the right amount of orange grease; it pulls apart in tender, salty strands, with gold mines of melty fat here and there. Put some in a fresh tortilla (you can see the lady making them at the end of the open-kitchen counter, just beyond the bar) with a little onion and a squeeze of lime, and you have one of the world's best tacos in your hand.

The goat also comes with buttery crumbles of corn masa instead of rice, topped with a very hot sauce—for this excellent substitution, you may thank Gloria Perez, the head chef of both Mezcaleria Oaxaca and La Carta de Oaxaca. You might see her in the kitchen, slowly filling tortillas with ground pork with raisins, rolling them up to be fried and become dorados—her gravity is as reassuring as anything has ever been. Her son Roberto Dominguez runs both restaurants; his brother Jesus works at them, too.

But let's back up to when you are first seated. Your server (brusque but kind, possibly wearing a T-shirt that says "Casually moral" in cursive) will say "Chips and guacamole" ($5) in a way that's not really a question, because there is only one answer. The chips are of the shattering-thin, warm-and-salted variety; the guacamole is not too limey, not too chunky, nothing fancy, just right. Everybody ignores the option of refried beans as dip, but get those, too—it's worth the three bucks, for they are perfect.

Sometimes drinks take a little while, but meanwhile, it's bustlingly clear that things are happening. Mezcaleria Oaxaca is, in essence, an especially lovely, especially delicious Mexican diner. The best seats are (1) the ones along the kitchen counter, where you can watch flames bursting out of pans and pineapple dripping down onto a spit of meat (why didn't you order that?!), or (2) the tiny two-tops across the aisle, romantic in the way your own little island in a storm of busyness can be. (One of these has a lit-up curio cabinet with silver charms and crucifixes and a spoon that says "MEXICAN BORDER 1916," with stars and a sentry; this was right around when US tourism started, as American drug prohibition sent people across the border in search of their fancy. Nearby, there's the world's loneliest backlit photo of an abandoned airplane.)

If you've been to La Carta, you know that the food is much, much fresher and subtler than your average family Mexican spot. Instead of a congealing lake of goo, there's a sprinkling of crumbly Oaxaqueño cheese; instead of a blob of sour cream, there's a touch of crema Mexicana. The usually inundated, pedestrian dishes, like enchiladas, are different creatures under Perez's care. The waiter says the enchiladas verdes con pollo ($10) are his favorite menu item, and the green tomatillo sauce is bright and sparing and tart and hot, while the chicken inside is identifiably, flavorfully chicken, not just shreds of protein. Moreover, the corn tortillas taste like corn, which, in context, is kind of amazing. The sides are not afterthoughts. The rice is pale yellow and chickeny-savory; the pinto beans are quietly spiced and probably full of lard, plain and great.

Even the gigantic bowl of spicy-hot seafood soup ($13) isn't heavy, though if you eat the whole thing, you'll be sloshing home. It's a rich orange-red, and it tastes pristine instead of fishy; the broth is rife with specks of red chili, and very tiny mirrors of grease are scattered across the surface. It comes with a crab cracker for the leg of crab you'll find submerged in there along with un-overcooked shrimp and skin-on, spinal cross-sections of an unspecified white fish that falls off its bone like softened butter. The spice level is at the upper edge of what a normal person can enjoy—it wakes you up without making you cry.

In less spectacular but still very good eating, a bistec en salsa de tomate($11) is a much-improved version of the thin-sliced beefsteak you've probably ordered elsewhere, notably not tough. And a tamale with Oaxaqueño mole ($8) is made with soft and fresh masa, with the mole on the sweeter/less nutty side, and it is enormous—too much for one person, unless you really, really love a mole enchilada, but nice to share.

Look up when you're walking around inside Mezcaleria Oaxaca—if you don't, you might miss a hidden shrine or, where you're expecting a skylight, a secret golden photograph. And at the bar, don't overlook the sotol—"a pleasant, earthy cousin of tequila and mezcal," the menu says. It comes in a little footed goblet with a chili-dipped lime; the añejo ($8) is smooth and vegetal. If mezcal's not your thing, this may be more like it.


(Sources: facebook, thestranger)

시카고에서 연말연휴를 같이 보내러 온 시누이 시애틀 구경시켜 주기 위해 부모님과 함께 또 한번 나갔다. 이 날도 어김없이 비. (시누이가 온 이후 며칠동안 아직 해 구경을 못함, 그리고 난 쏟아지는 비 속에서 운전연수 단단히 하고 있음. ㅜㅡ)

주차장에서부터 파이크플레이스마켓까지 (Pike Place Market) ..

스타벅스 1호점 앞에서 사진 찍고 (줄이 길어 들어서지도 못함) 점심을 먹으러 가는 아빠의 발걸음이 힘차다.

더말할나위 없이 씨. 푸. 드.
(엄마가 주문한 커피soda 가 참 괜찮았음.)
그리고는 디저트거리로 치즈케잌 집에서 Seattle's New York Cheesecake 을 픽업. 시애틀의 뉴욕치즈케잌이라...

크리스마스 장식 구경도 좀 더 하고. 내일은 또 뉴욕행이니 뒤늦게 크리스마스 데코 구경은 왕창 하겠구나.

시애틀의 동쪽편에 매우 잘 나가는 도시 Bellevue 가 있다. 그래서 우리 동네에서는 구경도 못한 크리스마스 장식을 조금이나마 구경하기 위해 향함.

도착하자마자 "도시 거리를 좀 걸어보자" 하는 아빠의 마음을 달래기 위해 다운타운공원에서부터 출발.

(시동생과 나는 모자도 없이 비를 맞으며 걷는 동안 아빠는 모자, 파카로 무장 다하고, "아, 덥지 않게 걷기 딱 좋은 날씨네!!" -_-.. 시동생이 고생 좀 했다.)


그러고는 "맛있는 레스토랑에서 점심을 먹자" 하는 엄마를 달래기 위해 이탈리안 씨푸드 집에서...

그리고 빗속에나마 "귀한" 크리스마스 장식 앞에서 한 컷.

오는 한해에 좋은 가이드로 이용할 수 있을만한 시애틀 안내 기사:



In June 2010, food, travel, and lifestyle journalist Charyn Pfeuffer swapped her BlackBerry for a backpack to volunteer with 12 community projects in 12 countries over 12 months. After volunteering more than 900 hours for her Global Citizen Project, she’s back home in Seattle, Washington, to share all things food, travel, and volunteering. In another Wednesday edition of I Heart My City, read Charyn’s insider tips to Seattle, then tell us what you love about the Emerald City in the comments section below.

Seattle Is My City

The first place I take a visitor from out of town is Ray’s Boathouse, a restaurant in Ballard. The views of seals playing, Puget Sound, and snow-capped Olympic Mountains from the upstairs deck are pretty spectacular. Plus, you see working fishing boats returning to Salmon Bay with their catch, so the seafood is about as fresh as it gets.

When I crave a Bloody Mary I always go to Matt’s In the Market. This second-story restaurant and bar right across from the throngs of tourists at Pike Place Market epitomizes Pacific Northwest cuisine and sensibilities. Its Bloody Mary pays homage to the region’s Scandinavian heritage by subbing Aquavit for vodka. I love that it comes with a snit of Miller High Life.

If I want a nature fix, I go to the Cascade Mountains. Mount Si is a decent six-mile hike, which takes folks through multiple ecosystems to its 4,167-foot peak. It scores extra points for being dog-friendly.

For complete quiet, I can hide away at Fremont Peak Park. This postage-stamp-size community park on a residential stretch is a quick dog walk from my house and offers panoramic views of Ballard, the bridge, and Salmon Bay. It’s one of my favorite places to watch the sun set.

Pike Place Market (Photo: John Drew/My Shot)

If you come to my city, get your picture taken with Rachel, the bronze piggy bank at Pike Place Market. The word on the street is that since 1986, she’s collected roughly $7,000 in currency from around the world.

If you have to order one thing off the menu from Marination Mobile (voted America’s Best Food Truck by Good Morning America), it has to be the kalbi beef tacos. The nunya sauce really makes these three-bite delights, and I’m grateful that my go-to Wednesday food truck has finally bottled the stuff for sale. (The truck moves from neighborhood to neighborhood throughout the week.)

Ballard Farmers Market is my one-stop shop for great produce, fish, meat, eggs, bread – you name it. If it’s local/in season, this well-attended market will have it. It’s held every Sunday from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. My dog, Gus, makes a beeline for Wilson Fish for salmon skins, where fishmongers will tell you exactly when the salmon and halibut were pulled from the water.

Locals know to skip Starbucks and check out Lighthouse Roasters instead. This tiny neighborhood coffee shop has been roasting beans in vintage machines since 1995 and makes the best mocha I’ve had in Seattle. I brew it with a French press at home daily but regularly visit the shop for its perfect foam and unpretentious baristas.

When I’m feeling cash-strapped I take advantage of Seattle’s twice-daily happy hours. There’s absolutely no reason to not eat and drink well in Emerald City. Early happy hour is pretty standard across the board, typically with deep discounts on food and booze. Late-night happy hour usually lures imbibers with cheap food deals.

In my city, an active day outdoors involves renting a canoe or rowboat from the Waterfront Activities Center (WAC) at University of Washington and paddling around Lake Washington. It’s a cheap afternoon– rentals are only $8.50 an hour.

Museum of History & Industry (Photo courtesy of MOHAI)

My city’s best museum is the Museum of History & Industry. It’s hardly a cutting-edge facility, nor the flashiest venue in town, but I’m a nerd for time and place facts, and this museum chronicles 150 years of Seattle’s history. If I had to rate a favorite museum based on its gift shop, Seattle Art Museum (SAM) takes the retail win, hands down. The pottery, jewelry, and knit goods in that place are well worth maxxing out your credit card.

My favorite jogging/walking route is around Greenlake. I do in-line skating, walk my dogs, or dish with my girlfriends on its 2.8-mile loop. During the summer, you can swim in the lake (dogs, too!). In cooler months, I grab a pre-stroll Mexican hot chocolate at Chocolati Café near Stroud Avenue North.

Tavolàta is the spot for late-night eats. Belying Belltown’s meathead stereotype, this is where food-obsessed locals hang out late at night and where chefs eat on their night off. Chef/owner Ethan Stowell’s (Food & Wine Best New Chef 2008) delicate, handmade pastas are dream- and drool-inducing carbs. (He grinds his own wheat for the pasta.)

To find out what’s going on at night and on the weekends, read the Stranger, one of our two alternative weekly newspapers.

You can tell if someone is from my city if the skin is translucent. Vitamin D deficiency is a real issue in Seattle during its gloomy winter months.

For a great breakfast joint try the Dish. The Slacker Especial, a fancy version of migas, will fix any hangover. There’s almost always a wait, but there’s self-serve coffee on the sidewalk to keep the hungry masses warm and caffeinated.

Just outside my city, you can visit Whidbey Island. It’s a quick ferry trip from Mukilteo, and the island is the perfect day-trip getaway with wineries (Whidbey Island Winery is quite good), local Penn Cove mussels (in Coupeville), and Deception Pass State Park (35 miles of trails). Remarkable bridges make me weak in the knees, and the arched version at Deception Pass is a suspended, two-lane stunner.

The most random thing about my city is the statue of Lenin in the Fremont neighborhood.

For a night of dancing, go to Century Ballroom in Capitol Hill. Evening classes and sessions rotate between salsa, tango, and swing. Or, for live music, check out the Tractor in Ballard. This intimate neighborhood venue serves tallboys of PBR while acts like Jonathan Richman and Dave McGraw take the stage.

San Juan Islands, Washington (Photo: Ashley Sullivan/My Shot)

In the winter you should go the San Juan Islands. Sure, the off-season weather may be moody and gray, but tourists have gone home, hotel rates drop, restaurant reservations are a snap to secure, and wildlife is more abundant. On my winter “to do” list: Book a cabin at Doe Bay Resort on Orcas Island, and finally make it to French Laundry alum Lisa Nakamura’s restaurant, Allium.

In the late-spring you should visit the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks. Almost always referred to by its more informal name– Ballard Locks– this complex water shifting system links salty Puget Sound with the fresh waters of Salmon Bay, Lake Union, Portage Bay, and Lake Washington.

In the summer you should go to Discovery Park and pick wild blackberries. My pantry is filled with blackberry jam made from summer walks turned impromptu picking fests.

A hidden gem in my city is Schmitz Preserve Park in West Seattle. It’s a slice of old-growth wooded heaven in the midst of a residential neighborhood. On occasion, you can hear coyotes howling from the park’s ravines.

When I think about my city, the song that comes to mind is anything by Pearl Jam or Nirvana. When I get in my car and switch on the radio, I play a little game to prove I can’t scroll through one rotation of stations without hearing a song by one of these artists.

Viadoom could only happen in my city.

My city should be featured on your cover or website because it cannot seem to escape its so-called rain stereotype. Yes, it’s gray and gloomy for months on end, but it’s also one of the most beautiful, lush, vibrant cities in the country. Poor Seattle suffers from an inferiority complex and is highly underrated. Some people say that the myth of continuous rainfall in Seattle was actually invented by the locals in the early 1960s to try to keep people from moving into the state.


(Source: nationalgeographic)

집에 있는 재료로 만든 걸쭉한 치즈 샌드위치로 하루를 시작한다면, (grilled cheddar cheese)
 

마무리는 거창한 해산물 platter로.

이른 아침부터 특별한 계획 없이 Pike Place Market 에 구경 나갔다가 이미 사람들로 북적거리는 clam chowder 집들은 모두 지나치고 아주 한적한 피자집엘 앉았다. (K는 차우더를 그렇게 좋아하지 않고, 나는 배가 무척 고팠다.)

느긋하게 bar에 앉아 하루의 첫 피자 pie 굽는 것과 파스타 소스 만드는 것을 구경하며 난 10인치짜리 샌드위치를 down 하고
(이탈리안 소세지에 파인애플의 조화가 interesting.)