Last Friday, Malcolm, Kellie, Max, and I had a very enjoyable evening at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society tasting event here in Seattle. As I've mentioned before, the Society puts on these tasting events all around the country (around the world, really).

Basically, you pay a flat fee ($95 for members) and then you get a glass. There were two large banquet rooms at The Ranier Club with tables from different whisky makers lining the walls. You walk around to the tables and the staff will pour a taste of whatever they're serving. The collection of whiskies was as broad (if not broader) than the event last year. A nice dinner and a trio of good cigars topped off the evening.

There were many good whiskies and a few duds. I was especially impressed with a few:

• Talisker 175th Anniversary bottling: Hands down, this was my favorite. Moderately peaty, wonderfully balanced and deep. Ethereal. The 18 and 25yo were also lovely.
• Macallan Fine Oak 17: I'm a big fan of the Macallan Fine Oak line, which I first tasted at last year's event. I just recently bought a bottle of the Fine Oak 15 which was incredible and made the 10yo (which I like a lot) seem like crap. The 17 is a new bottling and is even more lip-smacking than the 15. The whole line is uncharacteristic of the deep, sherried Macallan taste. The Fine Oaks are honey colored, lighter, and altogether wonderful.
• Suntory Yamazaki 18yo: I haven't historically liked Japanese whisky; I found them to be like Japanese cars: technically perfect but utterly soulless. The Yamazaki 18yo was the first Japanese whisky I wanted more of. Delish. I think the Japanese guy serving was happy to see another Asian face and to speak Japanese with Malcolm, who, despite being very Scottish, complete with kilt, speaks perfect Japanese.

There was also an Irish peated single malt at the event. I think it was the Clonmel, but I've misplaced my booklet. It was very light and little unusual. I didn't care for it much, but it was Kellie's favorite. I note it here because it was unique.

Anyway, I think they were pouring taller tastings than last year, because I was a wreck. Lots of scotch chased by a cigar always makes for a rough morning. Still, a very fun evening.

Slashfood posted an article about "secret foods" today - the thing every person, no matter how decided a foodie they are will eat when no one else is around.

Me? I love instant noodles. I'm not picky. Cup-o-Noodles, Top Ramen, you name it. Nothing beats a hot bowl of soup noodles, even if it is a styrofoam bowl. Michael (6) has picked this up from me now.

My other secret food is goldfish crackers. I've always loved them, and since the kids were little, we always have them around. Very dangerous. Call me old fashioned, but I still like the cheddar ones best (no, not the cheddar with whole grain or the calcium enriched ones. WTF?)

(I love that Wikipedia has articles on goldfish crackers and instant noodles. The fact they're serious articles is even funnier.)

What's your secret food?

Every so often, I find a blog or site that I think I should have started. Yesterday, I found such a blog: Bacon Unwrapped. This site is an unapologetic love poem to the king of foods. Some recent posts: Subliminal bacon art, bacon brownie recipes, and an article debunking the bacon-causes-cancer alarmism.

I especially love their tagline, "Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon."

Just in case reading the site makes you hungry for bacon, here's a link back to my post on the best way to cook bacon.

Oink, oink.

As I've been working on these posts, I've been sipping on a dram of Glen Breton, Canada's only single malt whisky. The bottle was a gift from Scott from his recent trip to Nova Scotia.

I have to admit, I was a bit hesistant to try it; how good could a Canadian single malt be? As it turns out, it's not bad at all. It's a pretty straightforward whisky, clean and simple, but not bland or boring. It's a pretty easy-to-drink whisky as single malts go, without any smoke or peat flavor to speak of.

I don't think I'll go to crazy lengths to get another bottle, but it's certainly enjoyable. If you're looking for an easy way to get started with single malt, it's a good choice.

After my heavenly first mangosteen experience in Jakarta, I've been dying to find a local source. My blog readers came to the rescue.

Jeff pointed out that he's seen canned mangosteen, so I bought a few cans at the Uwajimaya Asian grocery near us. I was all excited to show my familiy what the fuss was all about. They were pretty good, but the texture was a bit soft and the flavor was very sugary - like the difference between fresh and canned peaches. I liked them, but the family wasn't impressed.

Then, as Yukino commented, mangosteen are available in Canada (I guess if you can't have guns, you need something worth living for...) So, while I was at the Granville Island market in Vancouver, I hunted for mangosteens and was delighted to find fresh mangosteen.

In the hotel, I tore into the mangosteens. These were better than the canned ones, but not as good as the ones in Jakarta. The flesh was a bit soft again; I imagine they were less fresh than on the ones inn Jakarta (or maybe I just bought some bad ones). Again, Michelle was not impressed. I ate them all, but they paled in comparison.

Guess I'll just have to go back to Jakarta to get some more...

I had night in Vancouver, British Columbia before Michelle and the kids showed up. After checking into the Westin Grand Hotel (nice hotel, btw) and, of course, checking my email, I struck out to find dinner.

The last time Michelle was in Vancouver, she found the Blue Water Cafe in Yaletown and loved it. Since my lovely wife is always right, I decided to try it too. It was a short walk to the restaurant.

The place was packed, even though it was relatively early on Thursday night. I bellied up to the bar and was immediately gratified to see a huge wall of Scotch bottles before me. I settled into my old favorite Ardbeg 10 Years Old and started to salivate through the dinner menu. Blue Water has an extensive seafood menu including a good oyster list and an amazing sushi bar. Since I love whisky with oysters and sushi, I was in heaven.

As I chatted with Brad, the bar manager, I learned that Blue Water has over a hundred different single malt whiskies; the owner is apparently a huge whisky fan. Brad knew his stuff too. I had an amazing Ardbeg Uigeadail, which I hadn't seen before (Brad told me the local liquor store had a few bottles left, so I went the next day and bought one). I like it even more than the Ardbeg 10 - smoky and delish. I also did their Highland Park Scotch flight - a tasting each of the Highland Park 12, 18, and 30 year old whiskies. I'm a big Highland Park fan, so it was super to be able to try all three side-by-side. After that, I put myself in Brad's hands, letting him pick. I admit I lost track a bit of what he served, but they were all great...

The oysters and sushi were fantastic as well (of course, a few glasses of whisky makes everything taste good.) I chatted up my neighbors at the bar and met some nice folks including a guy getting ready to start his own restaurant and a couple from California who had just gotten off their chartered power boat after a week in the Canadian Gulf Islands (what a coincidence).

I had a very enjoyable evening at a fantastic restaurant. I'll definitely go back again.

Perhaps the biggest highlight of my trip to Jakarta was that I finally tasted a real mangosteen. The mangosteen is a tropical fruit that I only ever tasted in the form of mangosteen flavored chewing gum (easily the best gum I've ever had). According to the Wikipedia article, mangosteen is illegal to import into the US for fear of fruit flies, so I've never been able to taste the real fruit in the US before.

Anyway, I was in the grocery store in the basement of the Sogo department store in the upscale Plaza Senayen shopping mall. (I like visiting grocery stores in different countries. Interesting to see what they have to offer.) After passing the stinky durian, I noticed a fruit with a sign that said mangis. I wondered if this could be the fabled fruit (I didn't really know what they looked like.) I figured I had nothing to lose by buying two, so I picked them up along with some coffee beans (how can you not buy coffee when you're on the island of Java?) and candy for the boys and went back to the hotel.

I eagerly cut open the first one, revealing the yummy white fruit. Success! It was a mangosteen. The fruit inside the thick red peel is like a white tangerine - a few small sections and one big one containing the pit. The texture of the flesh is kind of like lychee (if that helps) but thicker. The flavor was ethereal - delicately intense like a great pear. Anyway, I quickly wished I'd bought more. I'm not sure when I'll be able to find my next mangosteen, but I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime, I'll have to see if I can find some canned fruit.

Here are some bad photos of my mangosteen.

Hermawan and Risman (above) from the local Microsoft office took me out to a place near the office for a real Indonesian lunch. This little cafe served Padang-style food where the servers bring out a bunch of dishes, and you only pay for the ones you eat. You can see the various plates stacked up in front of us. There was a great chicken curry, another chicken covered in curry and then roasted, some nice shrimp with potatoes, and a good dried beef. Almost everything was very nice.

With some glee, Hermawan put this crispy brown thing on my plate and wanted to see if I'd try it. Risman sat giggling. I asked what it was; Hermawan just said he'd tell me after I ate it. So I did. It tasted kind of like a pork rind, but beefy and a bit grainy. Not bad all in all. It's a dish called nasi padang -- fried beef lung. Well, that was a first for me. I think I earned some cred by eating it without flinching. As we left the table, I finished off the last bite just to show I wasn't scared of it. Somehow, I don't think it's going to ever make it big in the States.

 

We also had a tasty but slightly weird looking dessert. It was a bowl of coconut milk, tapioca noodles (I think), some bright pink fruit (like a cross between passionfruit and a pomegranate), jack fruit (yum), and avocado over ice. Frankly, the ice scared me the most as the water isn't great around here (I've been avoiding ice all week). It was yummy and refreshing, I must admit.

When it came time to tally the meal, the waitress pointed to a few dishes where we only ate part of the dish, like one of the two pieces of chicken; she only charged those as half a dish. A bit scared, I asked my hosts whether they re-served the uneaten food. They both smiled and said "I think you know the answer." As Michelle wrote to me when I told her this, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, ick, ick, ick"

Lack of American-style hygiene aside, it was a good meal. I'm glad to have had at least Indonesian meal outside the hotel ordered by locals in the know. It was very memorable...

(Pardon the poor photo quality; these are camera phone snaps. We left the office in a hurry since we were short on time so I forgot my real camera.)

I love bacon. I mean I really love it. Good American bacon - the crunchy kind, not that flabby stuff you get in other countries. At the risk of offending entire religions and regions, I think much of the unrest in the world is because too many people don't know the joy of bacon. Almost no one who has tasted bacon would willingly blow themselves up or start shooting at someone else. Bacon is worth living for.

But, it can be a real challenge to cook bacon well. Frying it is a mess. Microwaving has inconsistent results. Plus, neither scales well to the large amounts of bacon needed for a big brunch (or just me on a Sunday morning.) The secret is to bake the bacon in the oven.

1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F (220 degrees C or gasmark 7)
2. Take a large cookie sheet with a lip and cover it in aluminum foil. I like the wide heavy duty stuff that can cover the tray with a single piece.
3. Arrange the bacon on the sheet without overlapping.
4. Bake for six minutes.
5. Turn the cookie sheet around 180 degrees.
6. Bake for another 4-7 minutes depending on your oven and how crispy you like your bacon.
7. Lift the bacon out with tongs and set on a plate covered in paper towels. I dab the tops with another paper towel too.

Result: piles of perfectly cooked bacon for your dining pleasure.

Here are the cool bits about this recipe:

• All of the bacon grease is in the pan on top of the foil. Once it cools down you can lift out the foil and throw it all away. No mess. Better still, you can spoon out the fat to scramble eggs in (because what goes better with hot bacon than eggs scrambled in bacon fat?) Beet greens or spinach stir fried in bacon fat with crumbled bacon on top is delicious too.
• The turning around part is the magic move. Most ovens don't heat evenly. By turning the tray around, you ensure all the bacon cooks evenly. It's really amazing to me how evident the heat variation is when you see the bacon.
• If you want more bacon (and who doesn't), stick more cookie sheets in the oven at the same time. You can do tons at once this way with no additional time and minimal additional effort.

I've read a variation of this recipe that recommends putting a wire rack in the cookie sheet to keep the bacon out of the fat. I tried it. The results aren't any better, the bacon sticks to the rack, and the rack is a mess to clean up. Stick to the simple solution above.

While I'm at it, I'll put in a plug for Niman Ranch bacon. This is the real deal. Thick cut, smoky, and meaty, this stuff is made from happy, pesticide-free, free range pigs that lead productive, satisfying lives and died in the prime of their tastiness for you and me. Oh man, this stuff is good as is everything from Niman Ranch. Go get some today (Trader Joe's carries the stuff as do other good stores.)

Mmm, salty, rich, crunchy, and meaty. What's not to love?

After finishing the Seattle-to-Portland (STP) bike ride last weekend, our merry band wanted to celebrate. We started out at the Heathman Hotel bar (where we were staying). Clint and I got an early start, befriending Grant, our talented bar tender. I had intended to have just one drink, but the Heathman specializes in classic cocktails and Grant was doing a great job; I put myself in Grant's capable hands and enjoyed several delicious and unique cocktails. The consensus favorite was the classic Old Fashioned whisky cocktail. I then perused their good whisky collection and spotted a rare whisky from a favorite distillery - the Ardbeg Provence. This lovely bottling is a 1974 vintage and goes for $589 for a bottle online. I had to splurge and have a glass for $75 - an affordable extravagance (more on those later). OMFG. It was complex and peaty without being overwhelming; really really stunning. It was especially lovely with the plate of oysters I ordered.

I shared the glass and oysters with Clint and my new friend Karl Zenk, the Chef de Cuisine at the Heathman Restaurant, who was sitting at the bar for a beer before he left for the day. We chatted about food, restaurants, and other stuff for a while. NIce guy.

After everyone joined us for a drink, we headed off to Fenouil in the Pearl. This is a swish French place in the Pearl, a cool gentrified neighborhood in downtown Portland. Michelle had discovered this place recently and highly recommended it. The restaurant was beautiful with big garage doors that opened up the restaurant to the lovely evening air. We sat just inside the doors and really enjoyed breeze. We started out with one of my favorite Champagnes, the Billecart Salmon Brut Rose. One of our party winced when they heard me order a rose, but everyone loved it.

Then, the endless progression of food started. First a round of starters - duck confit (the hands-down favorite), a Kobe steak tartare (also fab), a crab and avocado thing (lovely - but the drinks started setting in here, so I start to get a little hazy on the details) and maybe one other yummy. For our main courses, we had a good selection including more Kobe beef, some lovely lamb, and some nicely grill duck. While these were quite good (not uniformly spectacular though), the real highlights were the sides of frites doused in truffle oil (simply to die for - we ordered more) and a plate of beans (fava or lima?) tossed in some rich butter sauce (these were my favorite dish of the evening). All of this was washed down with a few bottles of decent Chateauneuf du Pape (a good all around food wine, imho).

Honestly, I can't recall what the desserts were at this point (some flan and something chocolately?) but they were good too. (I should blog about this stuff sooner. I'm clearly in no danger of becoming a real food writer like my friend Hillel.) The service was very good to boot; our very French waiter was attentive and helpful without being overbearing.

We did have one funny point in the evening where I asked him what fenouil means. He replied "fennel" in a heavy French accent, which, as it turns out, sounds a lot like a French person saying "fenouil". So I asked him again, "No, what does fenouil mean?" More firmly, he replied, "fennel" in that same heavy accent. This went on a for maddening few rounds before the light clicked on for me, and I finally got what he was saying. Just then, I saw the huge fennel bulb drawing on the menu cover. Doh.

Anyway, back to the Heathman Bar for a drink with Grant and a very nice round of tawny port on the house (stunning pale color, but not sure what it was) and a raid on Bruce and Theresa's minibar in their suite capped off the evening.

The next morning, Clint, Kellie, Chase, and I had a great breakfast at the Heathman Restaurant. We ran into Karl (the Chef de Cuisine there) and said hello. He generously sent out a nice fruit plate for us. I was also introduced to the joys of sriracha (the infamous Rooster Sauce, although the waiter confessed they called it something else amongst themselves. Think of a word that begins with "c" that can mean rooster). I've had Sriracha before, of course, but never on eggs. Spicy and sweet, this was an epiphany, perfect in every way. I may never eat eggs without sriracha again.

After all that, I think I gained about five pounds on the trip despite having ridden 200 miles. A man has to have his priorities.