Here, Eat This! The Adventures of Kiki Maraschino

Jonathan, a close friend of ours (and best man at our wedding), recommended breakfast at “Lula’s.” I suddenly realized he meant Lola’s. another Tom Douglas restaurant I had visited on more than one occasion. He insisted we try “Tom’s Favorite Breakfast.” It was a bit steep for breakfast at almost $20, but Jonathan knows his food. Tom’s favorite breakfast consists of: mediterranean octopus, sugar snap peas, spring onion, potatoes, bacon, green garlic yogurt, poached egg, and toast.

Bob had to say it was the best breakfast he had ever eaten. I tried a bit of the tender charred octopus, but went with my Seattle staple, a morels omelette. Sometimes I will even add fiddlehead ferns if I’m feeling crazy. Their smashed potatoes are whole new potatoes bashed with a cast iron frying pan and sprinkled with kosher salt.

Lolas with the Pancake sisters

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You simply can’t visit Seattle without making a stop at Top Pot Donuts. Sadly, they no longer make their famous peanut donuts, but we will carry on somehow.

Top Pot opened in 2002 on Capitol Hill in 2002. The name came from an old Chinese restaurant sign the co-founders bought that said TOPSPOT. When they had the sign taken to be restored, the “S” fell off. Hence we have Top Pot Donuts.

The founders loved the retro sign and it fit their dream of creating a cozy donut spot that wasn’t full of buzzing fluorescent lights. They began with a recipe for their handmade donuts from the 1920s, and created wood counters, glass display cases and a 2-story bookcase to make Top Pot as far away from a fast food donut shop as possible.

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This is Hendrix’s original grave in the humble family plot before his memorial was built. It seems a little sad and neglected in this picture, but this Seattle cemetary is actually lush with grass. The only reason for the dirt is because the constant stream of visitors created a well-worn path that didn’t allow the grass to grow.

On November 26, 2002 Hendrix’s body was exhumed and reburied under a much more fitting marble dome memorial in another section of the same cemetary, Greenwood Memorial Park. If you are in the area and would like to pay your respects, you can find the location at findagrave.com.

Golden rose, the color of the dream I had
Not too long ago
A misty blue and the lilac too
A never to grow old.

There you were under the tree of song
Sleeping so peacefully
In your hand a flower played

waiting there for me.

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We took a day to just wander the cool Pioneer Square gentrified neighborhood in progress. Lots of coffee joints and bookstores, but also little homeless encampments. “In fact, The Pioneer Square-Skid Road Historic District, a historic district including that plaza and several surrounding blocks, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.”

Seattle’s first settlers built a town here. After it burned down, they rebuilt it adding some Roman embellishments to the Victorian style. They decided to build the new city at a higher level, so they built the new city right on top of the remains of the old. You can take an underground tour and see the old storefronts, but it’s an hour and a half of walking on creaky old steps underground and that’s just too much of a commitment for me.

My favorite feature of the area is the iron and glass pergola built in the early 1900s. Sadly, on January 15, 2001 an eighteen-wheeler semi crashed into the pergola, destroying the original. It has since been restored.

Another great thing about Pioneer Square is Salumi, the best sandwich shop in the world. They cure their own meats and sausages. They are Mario Batali’s relatives, if that helps. We ordered an Italian sausage with peppers sandwich and one with porschetta, which is mind-blowing.

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Sure, it’s not a Jersey ripper or a Chicago dayglo relish dog, but the Seattle dog has gained a reputation of its own. It’s one of those drunk foods that you eat from a cart at 2am outside of your favorite bar. The strange creation consists of a grilled dog, brown mustard, maybe some sauerkraut, maybe some jalapenos, and then its special ingredient — cream cheese, which warms and softens when it hits the heat of the sausage.

We had gone to Neumo’s when Bob was on tour last time, so we headed over there with Anne, and I jumped out of the car to buy one from the vendor. Nobody else even wanted a bite! It wasn’t so weird, and I love cream cheese.

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I never did finish posting my Seattle trip. It’s hard having 2 blogs. One always suffers. But before my next trip, I figure I’d better write a little something about my last trip.

Bob flew in and met me at our airport hotel on Sunday. Anne Pancake, my best friend since forever, picked us up with her daughter, Zola. When Karen and I got back into her car after our dog rescue misadventure, Karen asked me, “If you had been able to take that dog away from that guy, what the hell were you going to do with it?”

Without skipping a beat, I replied, “Give it to my friend Anne. She loves animals. True to form, when I told her the story Anne said, “Oh, I would have loved to have a little Jack Russell!”

We went to Serious Pie for lunch, part of Tom Douglas’ empire. Their wood-fired pizzas are just so damn good. It is always one of my first stops. We shared the Soft Egg, Prosciutto and Arugula Pizza, and one with morels and asparagus. Amazing.

 Tom Douglas’ Magnolia bakery next door is famous for their triple coconut cream pies. Luckily, Serious Pie has added it to their menu.

Anne’s whole family, her, husband, Ed, and daughter Zola are all massage therapists. We went over to their place for a spa day. Anne has a big warm pool she uses for Watsu. It’s a trip. She puts a float behind your neck and under your feet, then gets behind you and hooks he arms in your arms and slowly swishes you back and forth, then does a bunch of other movies that made me kind of feel like a mermaid and kind of like a baby. It’s very relaxing and a nice low-impact treatment for people with pain, bad joints, disabilities, and probably the elderly.

Then it was Bob’s turn in the pool and Ed gave me a relaxing massage. The whole time he talked about my health and the benefits of what he was doing, and I have no idea what he said. Bob came out of the pool early. Anne said he is so flexible she was too rough on him. But later Bob told me, “Her hands were on my shoulders, and all of a sudden I felt a third hand! I didn’t know if Ed or Zola had gotten in the water and it freaked me out.”

I asked him if the third hand was in the small of his back. He nodded and I laughed, “That was her foot!” She did the same maneuver on me. She dropped us off at our new little hotel that was closer to downtown. Old and cozy, in a neighborhood half gentrified and half the stomping grounds for the homeless.

Bob’s Clawhammer bandmate, Rob and his wife Lisa happened to be in town. They invited us to Anthony’s Pier 66 or dinner. The view was gorgeous. Since they were treating, we let them pick some dishes to share. We enjoyed a strawberry salad, a poke dish, scallops, and a seafood pasta.

We walked home along the water. It was a beautiful night.

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Saturday after the workshop, Karen, who had never been to Seattle, asked me to take her somewhere that was not a place to eat. Since museums would be closing soon, the only thing I could think of was Pike Place. Luckily, she loves shopping and I still found places to eat.

I love Lowell’s and took a break in the second floor bar for their clam chowder. Unfortunately 13 Coins has ruined all clam chowders for me. Theirs is so good, Lowell’s pales by comparison. Although I do love anything in a bread bowl.

I have been debating whether or not to tell this story, since it kind of makes me look like a reckless idiot and will terrify my mother. But this is the adventures of Kiki Maraschino, right? And it was kind of an adventure.

After we visited Pike Place, we were driving back along Alaskan way. It was made even more desolate near the sports arena by ongoing construction. On the first block with restaurants and people we were stopped when we saw a young homeless couple waiting for the light with a beagle dog. The dog was barking and the man was screaming at it to shut up. He then lifted the dog up by its choke chain, letting it strangle. Karen, a serious dog lover, and I were both freaking out. When he let it down the dog tried to run, and he yanked it back hard, letting it get scraped along the pavement as its legs went out under it. We were so incensed and confused, we had no idea what to do.

Then the man did something I have never seen before and hope to never see again. He reached down and started punching the dog in the face. I said, “Fuck it. Pull over. I’m going to kill that guy.” When our light turned green, Karen zoomed into the right lane and pulled over in the driveway of a restaurant. I flew out of the car and flew at the couple, who were crossing the 8-lane boulevard. I shouted, “You can’t treat a dog that way. It is against the law. You are going to go to jail. Now give me that dog.” I reached for the leash and the guy pulled out a knife. He didn’t hold it up; he held it at his waist to show it to me. I didn’t think about getting hurt. I thought, “Oh my God, I bet that thing is filthy. God knows what kind of diseases I would get from it.”

During our confrontation the light changed again and cars pulled up to the crosswalk. A large truck stopped 2 feet from me, honking and revving its engine. Frustrated but not seeing an alternative, I walked back to the car. Unbeknownst to me Karen had run across the street to head them off at the pass and was having her own verbal altercation with the woman, who told her, “It’s my dog. I can treat it any way I want.”

Karen returned, also unsure of what to do about this poor dog. She said, “Of course we’re in a rental. If we were in my car I have pepper spray and a taser.” We found a policeman a block away and sent him back to look for the couple.

Karen looked at me, curious, “You tried to take his dog away.”

“Yeah.”

“What were you going to do with it?”

“Give it to me friend Anne. She loves animals.”

True to her kind nature, Anne would later lament, “Ohh, I would have loved to have a beagle.”

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I don’t usually make it to The Crumpet Shop in Pike’s Place before they close, but I still managed to get my crumpets on this trip. During the lunch break from Saturday’s workshop, Karen and I just kind of wandered around and ended up at the Queen Bee.

The eponymous Queen Bee is Colleen Clark, the owner’s late mother. She symbolizes all hard-working and nurturing mothers. She raised her son in the kitchen, who became somewhat fixated on the traditional English crumpet.

The little eatery has the elaborate espresso machine that is de rigeur in all Seattle establishments. But the star of the show is the crumpet. Not only can you enjoy the traditional lemon curd or preserves and Devonshire cream, but they have crumpwiches!

I tried the Three Kings with mortadella, genoa salami and pancetta with roasted pepper aioli and olive tapenade. I am not a fan of tapenade and left it out. Karen enjoyed a croque madame that was not battered or fried, but she really liked the jelly on it. The crumpwich is kind of gimmicky, and I probably wouldn’t try one again.

I am sorry I didn’t notice the savory topped crumpets. The Duck Confit with crispy shallots, rosemary and whole grain mustard sounds fantastic, as does the one with Beecher’s cheddar cheese, blackberry jam and fresh berries.

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I flew up to Seattle last weekend with an interpreter friend for a workshop. She had chosen a hotel that was serendipitously right next to a highly-recommended 24-hour steakhouse. 13 Coins opened in 1967, and walking into the restaurant was like going back in time — oversized swivel seats like Captain Kirk’s in place of barstools, and enormous leather panels reaching up to the sky to separate the booths. There was trippy Barbarella lighting and a full bar ready to mix cocktails old and new.

Karen and I arrived in Seattle on Friday afternoon. We wandered over to 16 Coins. Wow. It was an adventure. The soup d’jour was clam chowder, as is often the case on Fridays. It was so thick and rich, full of cream and butter. It was even better than the King’s Head in Santa Monica, which is no mean feat. The shrimp cocktail was cold and flavorful.

After the workshop Friday night, we returned to 13 Coins for the daily special — prime rib. They were all out. Boo. I made do with a big plate of steak and eggs. They really do know how to cook the hell out of a steak. Karen ordered fried zucchini, which were al dente rather than being greasy and soggy, and were served stacked like a little log house. We sat at the counter and were amused by the lively banter of the cooks and the impressive fire of each flambé.

Saturday the workshop started early, so we just stopped at a coffee drive thru that looked like a tiny house. They had 20 different flavors of sugar-free syrup and 40 regular syrups. Who wants a peanut butter latte?

Saturday night we were right back at 13 Coins for the prime rib, and this time they still had it! I have to admit the meat was not that flavorful, and about halfway through it started to feel like a job. Karen ordered fried ravioli, which were excellent, and meatballs that were OK. Since I ordered a dinner we were presented with an old-fashioned relish tray.

 Sunday morning I insisted on returning to 13 Coins one more time to try their salmon benedict. The salmon was not the expected lox, but big chunks of meaty smoked salmon. I can’t complain about anything we were served, or about the service, which was very friendly and on the ball. We especially liked Clay and recommend you sit in his section if you are ever in the neighborhood.

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