BlatherMunch10: we ate the whole thing

Whew. We just lay there for a while as the waitstaff hauled off the rubble. I remember the old custom -- the dictate almost -- from old novels and 1940's movies of sharing a cigarette with your lover after sex. And some of us did it back then despite we didn't actually smoke. Similarly, I craved a cigarette after this romp; we looked shyly at each other 'round the table as if we'd just shared something passionate, and physically intimate, which, of course, we had.

Monday last, after staving off the pangs all day with bitter tea, and Altoids, The World's Tiniest Architect and I hastened to First Hill's Lark.

It was the 2008 Whole Beast Dinner, Lark's third annual celebration of butter and pork blood. While there were actually three beasts (a pig, and 2 lambs) there were parts of the whole we never got to eat -- we must say, we didn't miss them, and might, actually have eaten some parts that were left unidentified. "What you don't know, won't hurt you," I said later to the Architect. "Where were those testicles and eyebrows I wondered -- in the meat balls?"

The dinner is served family-style to tables of eight, and we found ourselves sat 'cross from DJ Riz' Rollins, (KEXP Wednesdays, Thursdays, 9p-1a; Sundays 9p-12a) and his boyfriend, Rob, a nurse. I've known Riz since the early '90's when we both wrote for The Stranger, and did spoken word around town in another world from politics and media. He was in The Stranger considerably more than me -- a columnist, in fact; after all, he is ultimately cool and me ... not so much. He's been writing about music, and DJ'ing in clubs and on the radie-yo since cassette tapes, and writing food since the primeval dawning of the Age of Seared Ahi.

(photo: DJ Riz)

As we were meeting our other table mates: a happy pediatrician named Eric, a courts social worker named Laura, and husband, Jon, plates of coppa and salami from Fra'Mani and Salumi arrived; this is thin-sliced, cured pork, from which is derived, but bearing only faint resemblance to the baloney some of us chomped in the sack lunches of our pre-salad days. Then came the Tuscan lardo with mostarda on little toast squares. Lardo is pig fat taken from just under the skin and cured, and adds an intense meaty lusciousness, and about 4 million calories to anything lucky enough to be wrapped in it. The latter is a grape chutney with mustard. There were Marcona almonds, and home marinated olives laying around; then came fat dates stuffed with Gorgonzola and wrapped with thin, crisp Guanciale, bacon made from the yummy jowls of Signor Pig.

The courses were served by "wave;" that was the first, with three more even bigger ones to come -- and dessert!

(Could I do it? Was I we up to the task? Is my belly big enough to stuff it all in? Was the pre-starving sufficient? Was this the day I keel over á table, fork in hand, napkin stuffed in my tight collar, smile on my face, and the words, "are there more?..." on my lips? Happily, the answer to these questions, were yes, yes, yes, and no).

We were breathing through our mouths as the 2nd wave hit.

The warm pork pate, was the country kind ground coarse like meatloaf. Yowza! meat loaf, ubiquitous to the cuisines of the world is great anywhere, anytime, especially in a pastry crust with dabs of rhubarb, grain mustard, and logan berry honey. Then came squid on a little brochette with little rounds of chorizo, the tender squidly arms waving; their little bodies stuffed with olive, tomato confit, and grilled radicchio from Treviso. There were white prawns wrapped in lardo roasted with rosemary. A stand-out was salad of slivered pigs ears with cress, green papaya, crispy shallot fragments and pickled chiles. Pig's ears have little flavor, but give a satisfying chewy crunch not unlike the raw geoduck in a sushi joint.

(The squid was done by Chef David Hawksworth, late of Vancouver's West Restaurant who's abuilding an eponymous joint in the upcoming renewal of The Hotel Georgia. He and Susan Vanderbeek, (who just sold the famed Oystercatcher at Coupeville) were helping Lark's superstar chefJohnathan Sundstrom  who thought up this feasting).

We're at the halfway point, some put on running shoes, and sprinted to Ballard and back; I just sat there like Jabba the Hut staring at the butter for the bread we hadn't touched and let the half-naked swatting teams keep the flies away from my moist, white skin.

Then the 3rd wave swooped in like the Marines hitting Omaha Beach. We were ready.

Lamb crepinettes, those little spiced poached sausages fell all around us in their beds of paper-thin sliced pears and fennel; then a bombardment of savory lamb's tongues (the tastiest tongue we know, with the possible exception of the L'il Architect's) in a salad with barely cooked cauliflower and shrapnel of toasted almonds. Plates of pork cheeks exploded with a little heat from their coriander broth, and first-of-the-year ramps and fresh pineapple picked right off the tree in the restaurant's backyard. Pan fried pork kidney's fell with a thud at our table -- the curry mustard, the asparagus and dill; the Basmati rice couldn't cover the barnyard-y bouquet that is an acquired taste acquired by few these days.

A retreat to the spa and the vomitoria for a short R&R, and some sensate pampering by the half-naked eunuchs hired from nearby Seattle University, and then, revived... á table!

The 4th wave was a little like the 4th dimension, and as we'd have to really strain to make such a dimensional analogy, we're tired, and it's late, so we won't.

We were glad, finally to get something substantial: like the lamb sweetbreads ravioli with fresh English peas (flown in from Bolivia, presumably) on a pile of stewed fava beans, and fresh mint. The dough was a little tough, but the flavors: the inimitable sweetbreadiness alongside the low-brow bean was perfect. (Despite the pairing of glands and fava beans, which invoked the "Silence of the Lambs.") Then came pork tongues dolce forte (sweet strong) a sweet/sour blast of balsamic, and prunes. An ancient recipe which often contains chocolate (this did not), it was surprising and gave the pork tongue plenty of flavor. (it's the least tasty of all the tongues we know). And then: another continent heard from -- Africa -- with grilled lamb kofta, those spicy, little meatballs rained down with spiced carrot slivers, Mustapha's olives from Morocco, and couscous .

Gratefully, dessert was simple -- crackling chocolate cookies (no, the crackling was a sugar deal, not pig skin) made by the Chef Johnathon's wife, JM (who couldn't attend) and warm Meyer lemon madeleines with a custard sauce to dip them in.

I'm never sure if John recognizes me as the reviewer who wrote one of the few less-than-slavish reviews of his jumping off restaurant: Earth & Ocean in the W Hotel when he was there. The review, for the P-I, was slavish enough, but then it wasn't the puff piece that this is.

John Sundstrom. winner of the 2007 James Beard Award as the "Best Chef in the Northwest," is an important chef; and Lark is an important restaurant, as is his second place, Licorous, which is next door, serving small plates and large wines. Being out of corporate restaurants suits him, apparently, and his restaurant will always be regular stops for such as we.

~

Comments

[sparky]

Holy crap...some of that sounds magnificent..but I think I draw the line at internal organs and tongues.

You didn't mention any wine...or did you stick with ice water?

[wta]

Hi Sparky,
Wine was BYOB and shared at the table. There were quite a few bottles of red to taste. You could purchase wine or cocktails from Lark as well.
Lamb tongue was very good, pork tongue was a bit much. Kidneys...a little went a long way. Sweetbreads, in small quantities are pretty tasty.

[mommaomomma]

boy this web site is a gang buster...6-8 regular people on here....

[mercifurious]

Lark. Mara and I went for our first date. A better place I could not have chosen. We've been back, and will be back.

[Lynn C.]

What a disgusting display of rich yuppies eating the flesh of their fellow sentient beings. I'm reminded of primitives pulling steaming organs out of living animals and stuffing them in their fat mouths. Surely the elites of this society can be more conscious! For shame.

[Loris]

Yeah, Michael, how much did they charge you to eat all the stuff we used to feed to the dogs when we slaughtered?

[chucks]

Oh no poor Lynn C.
The more variety of meat, the better. That is why animals were invented and why we get to be at the top of the food chain. What a great evening you must have had. Mmmmmm.

[sparky]

Quality over quantity, mommao..until the little trolls show up. But, one has never been able to pick their neighbors, dontcha know.

And Lynn,,I dont know too many people who wish THEY could eat brains and kidneys...

[Lynn C]

Oh come on. It's a little irresponsible, isn't it? These fatcats just eat this stuff to show off. They don't even like it. I have heard them bragging about all the weird animal flesh they've eaten. It's just macho, and killing for ego.

[sparky]

If they were eating animals not usually mass produced for consumption, then I would probably agree with you. But any of the aforementioned food items can be bought at specialty grocery stores. I wouldn't eat most of it, but if someone wants to pay $$$ to do so...

I would rather you focus your unhappiness toward Food Network that shows food eating contests that show people gorging down food until they throw up. Now THAT is disgusting.

[Lynn C]

Its just another form of radical chic. Rich people who say they're liberals and humanitarian but support the killing and eating of animals for no mbetter reason than to be seen doing it. It is corrupt.

[howie in seattle]

Who knew, that you knew, DJ Riz? I met him "back in the day" when he worked in that record store on Broadway onn
Capitol Hill.He did a guest dj thing for my daughter's pre-school. I gave him a joint, as a tip. I was a lot hipper then.

[Maggie]

No matter what you're writing about, even pig's kidney, you write so well, Michael. I find myself looking forward to these Sunday food journeys even though I am usually here to find out what a jerk Dori Monson is.

[joanie hussein for obama]

I'm on the fence . . . Lynn, we need to give up meat and save the planet! But, for those who like it, bon appetit.

Michael, this is one rich piece of writing.

And everyone has to remember that chucks is . . . just a salesman. He regards himself as being at the top of the food chain. That chain includes poor people as well. He eats them for breakfast.

[DT]

Good review! I don't care for exotic cuts of meat, like tongue, but other than that, it was good to see a review of a local restaurant on this blog!

[joanie hussein for obama]

A lot of older Americans would be surprised that tongue is an exotic meat.

I've seen lots of tongues boiled on the top of my mom's stove in my time. Our agri-ancestors knew what to do with tongues.

One of my earliest memories is visiting a friend's farm in the Skagit Valley and seeing a freshly slaughtered cow with her poor tongue fully protruded. Not a sight one easily forgets even though I was probably five or six at the time.

Never would eat tongue. Never will.

[PugetSound]

Eating Tongue. A little too exotic for me.
Tasting something that is tasting you.

[Ben]

I don't eat faces.

[lukobe]

organs are great. read Nina Planck's "Real Food."

[JaimeRobertson]

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