Seattle Looks Like Graham Baba

I'm going to kill about 18 birds in one stone with this one.

I could spend time curating dozens of the most current, hip, hospitality joints near my house - or we could simply talk about Graham Baba Architects.*** These are the craftsmen/women who make them the artistic, gritty, and chic places they are. Their aesthetic taste is responsible for entirely too many of my choices - where to spend my money, my time, and my hunger.

I've written about many of these spots in the past, and it's high time to say "thank you" to the architects for giving me somewhere creative, intriguing, and excellent to sit.

Thank you for the Kolstrand Building. And all the oysters, bikes, and cocktails within. (Walrus & the Carpenter, Staple & Fancy)

Thank you for the Melrose Market (in conjunction with Dunn + Hobbes).

Thank you for Rain Shadow Meats.

Thank you for Marigold & Mint.

Thank you for the Piston & Ring Building (La Spiga, Plum Bistro)

Thank you for iron railings, gritty gears, and sanded wooden beams.

Thank you for reusing railway ties.

Thank you for making "wood-firing" at Eltana Bagels possible, and for Skillet Diner. Thank you for the Terry Ave Building (now Cuoco and Brave Horse Tavern). Thank you for Revel & Quoin.

THANK YOU GRAHAM BABA!

***Frank Bruni of The New York Times describes their work eloquently: "a palpable conviviality that so many restaurants aim for but so few achieve. That kind of warmth and vibrancy often boil down to luck: to the animation of the crowd that gathers, the pitch of people's voices."

Urban Woodsman: Since when did cool guys grow heirloom legumes and butcher pigs?

I have this gem of a book. My friend, Blake Lown, gave it to me a few years back when we were sure the world was coming quickly to an end - or maybe it was just the last semester of college. Anyway, it was called:

It really did tell you everything you'd ever need to know:

how to buy a horse, build a fence, attract hummingbirds, build a stone wall, and raise chickens.

Which brings me to last night:

Two bartenders were arguing last night over the real way to make a traditional Old Fashioned for my date, the Non-Scotsman. Funny that perhaps one of the newest spots on Capitol Hill, Artusi, was up in arms over how to make something the oldest way.

All that to say I read this article in GQ today that made me literally laugh out loud. The author, Mary H.K. Choi, is wondering why, for the past four years, "city-bound American men have been eating like yeoman farmers and dressing like Wild West oil prospectors." Basically, why is everyone wanting to go back in time so badly?

(Photo compliments of New York Magazine)

As quoted in GQ: "[…]

In fact, everyone on the cutting edge of culture seems to be yearning for simpler times that we’re too young to feel nostalgia for. If we aren’t subconsciously battening down the hatches for Armageddon, why are college-educated men learning to raise and butcher pigs? What’s up with techy guys cultivating rooftop gardens because heirloom legumes are cool? Men who live in Brooklyn, both Portlands, and Austin are studying the arts of pickling, canning, and skeet shooting. We’ve got grown-ass men with jobs learning how to make candles, for (C*#%$) sakes. Goodnight, moon.

[…]"

Choi doesn't specifically reference Seattle in her article, but all she really needs to do is walk down 1/18 of Ballard Avenue (think: Bastille's rooftop garden) or on Cap Hill between Pike & Pine (enter bearded bartenders at Tavern Law, butchers next door to pickle-topped Sitka & Spruce).

Damn, I love this city!

Your Mint Is Making Me Jealous

What happens when a girl tries to grow a charming herb garden in a 425 sq./ft. condo with no patio and a sole window that opens itself to morning dump-truck exhaust and late night Capitol Hill revelers?

Anxious, dying plants, that's what!

This is my mint plant; it reminds me of one of those "This is your brain on drugs" posters:

(RIP Mint Plant: May 2010 - July 2010)

This frustration has led me to a love-hate relationship with my charming neighbors who run the floral shop at The Melrose Market.

(The Melrose Project Design)

First, I guess I hate this whole place only because it is so divine I wish I built it, lived in it, lived above it, or lived under it. Dunn & Hobbes did a ridiculous job renovating the triangular block of historic automotive buildings. Grease is exchanged for exposed beams, concrete, brick and food. They created an environment happier than dark chocolate on a Fran's Sea Salt Caramel.

(Fran's - strategically headquartered 4 blocks from my house)

Anyways, back to mint.

If anyone can keep mint alive, it's this floral shop: Marigold and Mint: the organic floral and food vendor who entices The Non-Scotsman into buying me bunches of fresh flowers.

(Marigold & Mint)

No wonder he's enticed: with herbs & flowers that look like this!:

The rest of the Market is pretty spectacular, too, and I don't know if I can really say I have a favorite:

Rain Shadow Meats with their stained butcher blocks and cases of marbled cow? (Pigs head in window included).

The Calf & Kid? Perhaps the favorite, simply because their name is darling and they know well enough to get breads from wheaty Macrina Bakery to compliment their cheeses.

Last night's favorite was Bar Ferd'nand, where The Non-Scotsman and I sat nibbling on marcona almonds and musing over the fact that Jay Kuehner, the chemist from Sambar, is tending this bar on his own home-hill.

But ... drum roll, please... I'm still waiting for the Big Kahuna: a first visit to Sitka & Spruce. I don't know why I'm waiting, because it looks like heaven and I've heard tastes better than...better than that.

I'm already jealous of myself for getting to go.