May 11 - Gastropub, overnight museum snacks

This is what I started my day with. That could've killed someone. It almost killed that poor sandwich board sign. Danger!

Normally this would be a sprite, but at a
gastropub it's a homemade-mint-cucumber-muddled-soda.

Anyway. After hitting the Emerald City Comicon, a few friends and I headed up to Capitol Hill to check out Quinn's - one of those fancy new gastropubs. So, kind of high-concept, gourmet pub grub.

Hee hee. Grub.

Because my friend Diane is a sucker for overfed goose liver, we started off with the fois gras. Mmmm. . . gras. . .

That is some phat liver.

So. . . I honestly don't remember much about the fois gras. The bite I had was tasty, and that picture sure makes it seem like there was a lot of it. Hmm. It was perched atop some kind of fluffy pancake thing? With some. . . mango. . . stuff. . .

Okay. I was honestly far more fixated on the roasted bone marrow. My culinary anti-hero, Anthony Bourdain, has named it as his ideal last meal on earth. I'd never had it, but imagine my excitement when I discovered Quinn's serves it as a small plate. Score!


So they set before me a lovely presentation of animal bones, roasted for my pleasure. I scooped some of the business from the bone and spread it on the toast, topped it with some sea salt, and went to town. My first reaction was, jeebus this is oniony! That's all I taste!

Well. . . turns out I was doing it wrong. The marrow is inside the bone. Quinn's just chooses to top it with a sweet and pungent onion goo that I mistook for the marrow. How am I supposed to know what marrow looks like?? Once I got a taste of the actual bone goo, I was a little disappointed. It was pretty overpowered by the onion. There has to be more to this dish. I'll make it someday and review it for real.

While I was struggling with dem bones, my dinner buddies tore into some rabbit pot pie. Seems like I've been eating a lot of rabbit lately. . .

They served the bunny pie with carrots. how cute.

Despite making me feel sad inside for the adorable fuzzies that got murdelized for this dish, I did guiltily enjoy the pot pie. Actually, I think more things should be served under a buttery pastry. I was going to try to think of something that would be awful and make a joke by saying I wanted to eat it under a flaky crust, but I honestly can't think of anything. Pot pie is the perfect serving method.


Being in a pub, we felt that a cheeseburger and fries would suit the mood of the evening. I'm trying to remember something to say about them, but I'm coming up zeros here. Umm. . . check out that little cow on top of the burger. That's neat!


Back to the weird food. The special of the day was slow-cooked beef tongue. I felt I needed to get it. When can I pass up tongue? It's like eating tasting.

Yeah, I couldn't really get a good angle on the tongue.

The flavor of the tongue wasn't super impressive (irony!) but it was remarkably tender. It practically fell apart under my fork. That sauce was pretty good too, though I can't remember what was in it. It sure was yellow.

One of their desserts of the day was a chocolate financier. We had a dinner-long argument about what a financier was before ordering it to resolve the conflict. We thought it might be like a napoleon. Or perhaps like an eclaire. Or maybe like a sugar daddy. Turns out it's just a cake. What a disappointment.

It was fennel on top. Not celery, like we originally thought.

Less of a disappointment was the other dessert we ordered - a rhubarb crisp topped with a little flavored creme fraiche. That was some tasty edible root of a toxic plant.

No, really. The leaves are toxic. Srsly.

Also that weekend, the Seattle Art Museum was open for 35 hours straight to give people ample opportunity to get bored by the Roman art exhibit on loan from the Louvre. While I'm really not a fan of the Roman art (boring. boring!) I never pass up an opportunity to be in an art museum at 3 in the morning. Awesome.

I would have more pictures of that, but apparently you're not supposed to take pictures in a museum. So I got yelled at. And now I have illegal pictures of art on my computer. If I ever get arrested in a computer raid, you'll know why.

Even the salt is artsy!

Man, all that appreciating art can sure work up an appetite. Lucky for us, TASTE, the art museum's restaurant, was also open all night. Sweet!

They were running their happy hour menu from 10 until breakfast, so our options were limited to some small plates, fried things, and a giant ice cream sandwich. Since it was freezing outside we decided to keep to the first two categories.

In the small plates category was a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup shot. A winning combination, to be sure, but I did wish we had the option to upgrade from a shot to a cup. A bowl even. That stuff was delicious.

We didn't take the shot in one shot. That would have been silly.

In the fried food category, we ordered rosemary frites with remoulade. Or, in non fancy pants terms, seasoned fries with tartar sauce. Since when do we need to make french fries sexy? You don't need to trick me into ordering them, TASTE, I would have anyway. I love french fries. Everybody does.

Frites: fries in disguise.

Maybe the best part about the Roman art exhibit was the message on the marquee across the street. At the nudie bar. Yikes! That Lusty Lady - so clever. So topical.

Get it? It's a double entendre!

Since this post started out so awful (falling streetlights! excercising!), I'll end it with some cuddly critters. Goats! That you can rent by the day! And an adorable puppy! Gah!

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