If any dish captures the essence of summer it’s the gorgeous one pictured above. As the opening number on The Herbfarm’s July menu, “Nine Songs of Summer,” it set just the right tone for the five-hour feast that followed. Read more about dinner at The Herbfarm in today’s three-star review, the first of a…More
Topic: Nancy Leson
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Seattle Times restaurant critic Providence Cicero, food writer Nancy Leson and food editor Kathleen Triesch Saul chatted with readers Wednesday about restaurants we all love. Read the questions and comments below. This is to whet your appetite for Thursday night’s big Seattle Public Library event at Town Hall, where Nancy chats it up with a panel…More
What’s hot? Oh, let’s not! Instead, join Seattle Times food writer Nancy Leson Thursday, Nov. 14 at Town Hall when the Seattle Times, in partnership with the Seattle Public Library, hosts a panel of chefs and restaurateurs who’ve been around long enough to know that being great trumps being new. How do they keep it real?…More
I adore figs. But (so far, anyway) I can’t grow them. Good thing, then, that I’ve befriended Seattle’s fig king, Bill Farhat, a retired Arabic professor who’s been growing figs in his backyard in Seattle’s Lake City neighborhood for decades. I met him though his daughter, Sally, and when she told me her dad grew an astonishing amount of figs and I had to see it to believe it, she wasn’t kidding.
Bill was raised in Lebanon, where he grew up eating figs as if they were candy. (Aren’t they?) He shared a lot of information with me about growing up in the Middle East, about raising a family in the Pacific Northwest and about growing sweet figs (among other fruits, including loquats and green Persian plums) in the terraced yard he’s carefully built and tended over the years. He also told me about this great website, Figs 4 Fun, offering a wider world of info and insight for those of you who want to grow your own.
Perhaps you read about Bill in my recent Pacific Northwest profile. (If not, what are you waiting for?) But I also wanted to show you what he showed me when we took a tour of his garden in June, before his figs were ripe enough to eat. Here’s a video trio show-and-tell.
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I’ve written plenty about restaurant service. A dozen years ago, when I was still writing restaurant criticism — and fielding frantic calls from restaurateurs crying “Good help is hard to find!” — I penned this very personal column. In 2004, I discussed what happens when service goes south. Readers responded in droves (read
I was living la vida Gidget in a surfing town in Puerto Rico the first time I took part in a pig roast. There on the Rincon beach, a local dude dug a trough in the sand and cooked a pig in the covered pit. There was rum. And cerveza. And a roar from the crowd that drowned out the crashing waves when — 10 hours after its burial — el puerco was devoured on the spot.
So begins my latest Taste column, in which I tell the tale of a neighborhood pig roast. The one where, in a backyard bacchanal disguised as a birthday party, I join forces with family and friends to procure, brine, roast and eat a whole pig. Read the story here. And if you’ve ever wondered what it takes to pull-off a neighborhood pig roast, I’ve got the step-by-step visuals.
I don’t have to do much to get my husband all misty-eyed. Say “Door County” and away he goes, waxing nostalgic about boyhood summers spent on Baileys Harbor in Door County, Wisconsin. There, far from the urban center that was his Chicago home, he fished Lake Michigan with his favorite aunts, picked the county’s famous sour Montmorency cherries and slept, sunburned and freckle-faced, on a cot in a screened-in porch.
Which is why, 16 years ago, he insisted we plant a pair of dwarf cherry trees in our backyard: edible nostalgia.
As I explained to my radio partner Dick Stein this week on Food for Thought (listen in here), this year I bore the brunt of the picking and pitting, though Mac took to the task for the last of them and — necessity being the mother of invention — shared with me for the first time his mother’s secret for pitting cherries: use a hairpin!
When he asked if I had a bobby pin, I was skeptical, but when I rustled up the only hairpin I had, he showed me how it’s done. “No way!” I said, pulling out my iPhone camera so he could show you:More
In the latest installment of my Taste column, I shared my simple recipe for grilled quail, which you may have eaten in a restaurant but never considered making at home. Big mistake! I grill quail year-round. It’s great dinner-party fare and if you’re concerned that guests won’t go for it (I promise, they will),…More
Good morning, fans of all things food. Beginning this week, you’ll notice that All You Can Eat is expanding to bring you more news, tips and talk about our favorite subject. Now, the entire Seattle Times “food group” will be serving you. Rebekah Denn will continue to be our host, setting the communal table and…More