It’s a sunny evening and I walk off the street to enter a vintage store in NE Portland. I make new acquaintances over a meal thoughtfully prepared by Heather and Remy. I seek them out because they are professionals. They create a memorable experience and a meal with a concept. Tonight’s is a Victorian Feast, incorporating posh food from the manor and street food from the urban working class.

The meringue dessert is pictured above, with rose cream, a citrus chip, and rose hip conserve. Also included in the dish is rice pudding with condensed and evaporated milks, bay, rum raisins, lime and basil syrup, banana powder, and wild plum.

The venue has character: Palace of Industry, a vintage store in NE Portland named after a Victorian textile mill (Kenton neighborhood, 5426 N. Gay).

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Planetary Supper by Special Snowflake Supper Club & Din Din Supper Club

One summer evening a group of 75 people convene inside Versailles Gardens and Pomarius Nursery in industrial Northwest for a six-course meal crafted by chef Courtney Sproule. Through the grill’s billow of smoke and lit by the setting sun, Courtney orchestrates her cooks and servers to execute a French inspired menu, and the dishes are whisked away to awaiting diners.

I first learned about your supper club a year ago, and tonight’s supper was packed and busy. How have things changed in the last year? Is its current state what you imagined when you started?

Din Din grew out of parties I used to host for friends.  I learned the beauty of dining later in life and started throwing food-centric parties frequently as a way to teach myself to cook and host.  At one point, I decided to challenge myself (and to heed my budget!) by offering dinners to the public in public settings.  I did this monthly for a year as a side project, and then took on Din Din as a full time gig.  It totally took me by surprise that cooking, something I never gave a thought to until I was about 20 years old, would come to be my main pursuit.  I’ve been incredibly lucky to have such loyal, open guests and such a talented, generous staff bring us to this point!

What’s next? Are you trying to increase the size of the suppers, or hold the clubs in more sensational locales?

We always try to be better and better cooks and more welcoming and creative hosts.  Right now we’re working on ways to host our public suppers more often.  We’ll announce an early fall lineup soon!

How did you create your recipe for tonight? Did you use any particularly unusual purveyors?

I was totally endeared to this menu as I wrote it while staying in a friend’s medieval guest home in château country in France.  It demanded an elegant protein, so I knew to get Reister lamb from Jake Reister in Washougal.  He finishes his lamb with peas, so it has a subtle, sweet deliciousness and is so incredibly tender that we joke when fabricating it about the risk of it sliding right off the bone (still raw!).

Uncommon to us, but very traditional to the region I was staying in in France, is a trick taught to me by Robert Reynolds of the Chef Studio where you dump fresh strawberries into your leftover red wine for dessert (in this region, it’s Chinon).  We has a stellar Chinon that happened to marry perfectly with raspberries, which was the only berry to be had that week from Polar Farms, which my friend Kristen Murray (an incredible pastry chef Portland is so lucky to have) introduced me to.  That worked wonderfully!

One fun thing that happened was that I forgot my cooking brandy.  This cooking brandy is Germain Robin, which is nothing to dismiss, as you’d be lucky to finish any meal with it.  But in its absence I livened up the tomatoes on the zucchini cake by borrowing from the aperitif we offered our guests upon arrival– this fun modern French liqueur called M.P. Roux, which lended a welcome complexity to this season’s tomatoes.  It was a good mistake!

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Planetary Sculpture – A Supper Club

I’m in Astoria with Uriah Hulsey. He owns the Columbian Cafe and has served dishes made from locally caught seafood and fresh produce for the last 30 years. He was born in Georgia and spent his childhood in Louisiana, so most creations at the Columbian Cafe have a strong creole influence.

The cafe is an old diner complete with red vinyl booth cushions and a bar lined with round metal stool. Framed artwork and family photos adorn the walls and the shelves are filled with figurines and empty bottles, a healthy horror vacui (think Pix Patisserie or Por Que No in Portland) which gives genuine character to the space. Behind the bar, Uriah mans the grill and banters with locals and first-timers. He affectionately shouts to his staff when he needs ingredients or when a dish is ready.

I choose the “Chef’s Seafood Mercy” for both my dinner and breakfast visits, giving the chef a chance to create a unique dish that features the day’s freshest catch and produce from the latest market, even before the menu can reflect the newly-acquired ingredients. Dinner at the cafe always beings with bread accompanied by house-made garlic, jalapeno, and red pepper jellies. My main course is a filet of salmon stuffed with stalky asparagus over a bed or rice, all spicy and smoky from cayenne.

The next day I see Uriah at the Astoria Sunday Market. He pulls behind him a red wagon as he visits each vendor. Slowly the wagon fills up with produce. ”We try to get 80 percent of the vegetables we use from the Sunday market,” says Uriah, “over the years we’ve had a pretty good relationship with the farmers.”

Back at the cafe, Uriah unloads the wagon. “We’ve got some zucchini blossoms which I’d probably stuff with a crab. These cherries are Royal Anns, and then bok choy and a different kind of choy. Then we have spinach, yellow bush beans, and in the bag are English peas, which are a pain in the ass to shuck but the woman shucked them for me, which is great.”

It’s a colorful assortment which the cafe immediately utilizes. I order the Seafood Mercy and Marco stuffs a zucchini blossom with cheese and grills dark red cherries in with medallions of salmon. Marco is the chef during mornings and when Uriah is out of town. “I use to work all the night shifts,” says Uriah, “but I bought a house in New Orleans this year so Marco has been working more.”

See also:

Planetary Sculpture – A Supper Club & Food and Drink

I follow Bryon Rudd of Gorilla Meats Co. up a flight of winding stairs and down a long hallway down into a corner room filled with long wooden tables set for Planetary Sculpture, a supper club created by Zackery Denfeld and Cathrine Kramer of The Center for Genomic Gastronomy.

Below us, cars drive along the back ways that encircle this SE industrial warehouse, but the diners are above it all and sit down to a meal that explores how we as humans sculpt the diversity, abundance, and distribution of plant and animal life on our planet by choosing what we eat. Zackery and Cathrine of The Center for Genomic Gastronomy put it this way: ”Every time a food-secure eater chooses to eat one kind of food over another they make a small, downstream, but not insignificant selection pressure that privileges certain genomes to propagate on the planet.”

Bryon and Michael Malone, owners of Gorilla Meats Co., crafted a plate of three sausages for the main dish. Each sausage was made with genomes that would have been available before or after Columbian exchange, giving diners the chance to taste the increase in diversity of flavors that the exchange allowed.

Heather Julius of Special Snowflake Supperclub is the head chef for the night, and I speak with her about the considerations taken for each dish:

“The tomato dish is a vegetarian bouillabaisse. Genomic Gastronomy want to draw attention to the ‘search for the fish tomato,’ a tomato genetically engineered with fish genes in an effort to resist frost. This idea made them think ‘fish plus tomato equals bouillabaisse’, and that it would be a fun and interesting challenge to make a vegetarian bouillabaisse to underscore the tomato theme. It was a challenge to give it depth and flavor without any fish or seafood and that’s why I worked really hard on the finishing ingredients.”

What are the ingredients?

“The broth is all traditional bouillabaisse foundation: tomato, saffron, white wine, onion, celery, carrot, fennel, leeks.  Instead of the traditional sauce rouille that accompanies bouillabaisse, I wanted to do something lighter and also linked thematically to the rest of the menu, so I decided to make a lemony aioli whisked by hand using Wag eggs and put that on a pa amb tomaquet with smoky spanish paprika. I was making an overture to the later Old/New World course of Gorilla Meats Co. sausages and polenta that I made. So I was thinking about Spain and cultural collisions. Spanish but a resistant subculture to the dominant Castilian power: Catalan. So pa amb tomaquet is a traditional Catalan dish, so simple, of toasted bread, scraped with a clove of garlic, rubbed with a cut tomato half and then drizzled with olive oil. The pimenton again is a nod to Christopher Columbus and exploration, as it is reported that Christopher Columbus brought pimenton to Spain after his second voyage. The smoky paprika also gives some depth of flavor to the tomato dish.”

The next dish looked fit for an underwater banquet, and was topped with a medicinal-looking pill. Heather elaborates:

“It’s tofu and pickled seaweed with Sichuan pepper salt, scallion oil, and a capsule of toasted rice powder with lemongrass and wild lime leaves. Genomic Gastronomy asked me to do a ‘superfoods’ course based on their research into Utopian & Intentional cuisines. We talked about soy, rice and algae/seaweed as superfoods. So from that challenge I started with a tofu base, and then it was fun to think about a rice powder instead of a mound of cooked rice. As an omnivore I was thinking about how to make tofu interesting and also aesthetically appealing. The green of the scallion oil is nice against the paleness of the pressed tofu. Pressed tofu is good to work with, it’s kind of like a steak. I liked the idea of making something lively for the tofu, so I toasted Sichuan peppercorns in a cast iron skillet and then ground the pepercorns with sea salt, which makes the tongue tingle.”

And the pill?

“The pill idea also comes from a Genomic Gastronomy prompt, as they thought superfoods may be presented as an all-in-one meal delivery system in the future, so we thought it would be fun to put the toasted rice powder in the pill capsule. There was a certain junkie pleasure that we had in stuffing the capsules, and then thinking of passing that along to our diners as we asked them to open the capsule and sprinkle the contents on their tofu; the opening of the capsule is also releasing the aroma of wild lime leaves and lemongrass, so there’s a sensory pleasure aspect of the opening of the capsule that wouldn’t happen if the diners simply swallowed the pills. Let’s hope we never lose that aspect of pleasure and the senses, whatever the future may bring.”

What’s next for the Special Snowflake Supperclub?

“Our next dinner is planned for the end of August; it will be ‘Lamb on Fire.’ Two lambs suspended from cast iron crosses, cooked over live flames for 6 hours. Flatbreads and side dishes from lamb-centric cultures, including the Arab and Israeli nations, Italy, Greece, the UK. There’s talk of bottarga, a tartare of lamb heart, and who knows what we’ll do if we can get brains, kidneys, and tongues.”

“We are also in talks with a vintage store in NE Portland about a Victorian rich/poor dinner, manor food and street urchin food; we are also in talks with a 100K Sq ft shared workspace in SE for architects and designers, about doing something thematic and conceptual based on member projects; we are also talking about doing a ‘pop up cafe’ there.”

From Zackery and Cathrine at Genomic Gastronomy: For the rest of 2011 The Center for Genomic Gastronomy will be in Bangalore, India. There we will be hosting the second Planetary Sculpture Supper Club, and be doing field research on agricultural biodiversity of eggplants, seed saving, space food (Like China’s Valentines’ Day Space Potato) and learning more about the Cuisine of Karnataka and South India in general.

See Also:

Gorilla Meats Co. & The Able One-Cup Coffee Filter

Bryon Rudd is driving down the Columbia Gorge at 80 mph as he looks out the window and says “Look, there’s an Osprey nest”. We’re headed towards Hood River to visit a heritage pig farm owned by Jim Aamodt, uncle to one of Bryon’s college friends. The recent incorporation of Gorilla Meats Company means Bryon is in the market for  hazelnut-finished pigs to make into Guanciale and pork prosciutto. “I want to see where the pigs grow up and what they are fed, and I want to return today with some meat to hang.”

I met Bryon at Coffee House Northwest. He was wearing a white fur hat that sparked our conversation. “I slaughtered an Alpaca overseas. We used most of the animal and I made this hat from the hide.” Then he mentioned his future charcuterie business. At the time he was busing tables at Jake’s Grill but he invited me to join him on a trip to scope out heritage pigs.

A few weeks later we’re on this pilgrimage to Hood River. Since I saw him last he has quit his job, created packaging for his products, and incorporated the business. While we’re driving he gets a phone call from a friend and launches into a discussion about packaging his product, he asks his friend, “You have one of those industrial vacuum sealers, don’t you?” This is the stage of his business’s frantic acceleration, between his leap-of-faith decision to focus on charcuterie full time and the moment the business can sustain itself.

The farm’s pig steward is Bray. He started cleaning animals when he was 17 and now he’s our guide for the day. We put on muck boots and climb onto a small structure that overlooks the valley, and Bryon and Bray begin discuss the family of pigs that play in the mud below. “We don’t put a ring on their nose. We let them dig and do what they want and be happy. We finish them with hazelnuts and chestnuts.”

We return to the house and Bray brings out a garlicky prosciutto to slice for samples. Bryon follows him back into the garage and they pick out a leg from the freezer for Bryon to take home and hang for prosciutto. “You’ll want to poke a hole in between the bone to get a sturdy hold to hang the rope,” Bray shows Bryon the exact spot with his fingers. Then we go inside the house.

Jim Aamodt is waiting for us inside. His home is a Western-inspired perch with a 360 degree view of the valley around him. Bryon and Jim lock in conversation about recipes from The Whole Beast and the history of his farm. Jim walks over to the wall and points to a picture of the hill his farm sits on. “This part of the farm is called the ‘slide’ and we’re considering fencing it all off for the pigs. The pigs have bred more than we expected so we have a lot of them, and they will soon need more room.”

Jim surprises us, “Two gentleman are coming to kill and slaughter a pig for their Christmas feast, do you two want to stay and watch?” An hour later Bray changes clothes, loads his pistol, and we all crowd onto a structure that towers over the field. Bryon and I watch as Bray stalks around through the mud trying to line up a shot behind the pig’s head. Twenty tedious minutes pass, the pigs know something so they scatter, and the two gentleman herd the pigs back up the hill toward us. Then a pig runs into the structure we’re standing on, Bray follows, and the pistol discharges below our feet. A second shot as the pig runs out of the structure, and it dies as muscle memory pushes its head into the mud and runs the feet for several minutes. They pull the pig through the mud and hose it off.

Bray works quickly and accurately to clean and slaughter the 450 pound animal.  He shows Bryon the techniques along the way. I witness Bryon’s passion at this point. He absorbs each detail in how to remove the various pieces of the pig, and I see his unabashedness in asking every question and in pursuing every curiosity. The two gentleman give Bryon the left jowl, tail, and the five pound liver, and we pack it all into the car and drive off before dusk. On the way back Bryon raves about the pâté he plans for the liver.

Bryon and Gorilla Meats Co. are taking orders: brhinoinspace at gmail dot com

“I have duck prosciutto going to food carts but I also have lomo, coppa, Guanciale, bacon, pancetta, and a bunch of fresh sausage as well as pâté, terrines, and I just started salumi. My next big step is a wild boar and black truffle salami for $12 a piece.”

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Food & Drink

Portland Street Style & Tanner Goods Portland Ore. & Reveille Portland

When I pull into the Fire Mountain Brewery tasting room I am greeted by three sweet dogs on the driveway. In the brew house, Henry Gorgas the brew master and Ken Venezuela of Carlton’s Filling Station Deli are locked in jovial conversation. Ken explains that Henry worked for Lackheed Martin and that the brew house was  Henry’s workshop for experimental aircraft in the 90′s. The attention to detail required in manufacturing sheet-metal carries over well to brew making. Henry shows me the custom horizontal fermented he designed for his own style of brewing, and Ken notes the precise construction of two enormous hanger-like doors to the refrigerator unit.

My first impression of the beer is that Henry does not skimp on ingredients: his beers are rich. The Steam Stout is roasty with hints of creamy chocolate. The Bad Henry IPA is a big surprise. It’s well hopped but not overly bitter, and has strong fruit loop note.

Despite its quality, a micro brew beer may be sought out  simply for its obscurity. Fire Mountain Brewery is both obscure and excellent, which makes it worth seeking out at your beer shop (John’s Marketplace in Multnomah Village or a Portland-area New Seasons).  But I recommend you make the a pilgrimage to the Fire Mountain tasting room, twenty minutes west of Carlton, OR; past Oregon’s wine country and down Panther Creek Road, a full hour and twenty minutes from Portland but most definitely worth the trek. (10800 NW Rex Brown Road, PO Box 692, Carlton OR 97111, 503-852-7378)

I love the corner booth; you can watch everything. I see the brick wall behind the bar, natural wood planks along the seating, and spotlights on the wall that point up into the tall rafters. I see tables running along the long wall filled with talkative morning-risers. “How does it feel to be turning 3o tomorrow?”, the gentleman next to me asks his friend, and receives a shrug response.

For those who love their food served separately, this is a paradise. I order the La Santé. The soft boiled egg towers above the other food on a pedestal, the avocado slices have their own bowl to lay in, and the prosciutto climbs up on itself. The avocado is a gradient of bright greens and the prosciutto is moist: everything is freshly sliced.

The waitress is lovely, with bare shoulders and a dark floral print skirt that could have been picked up at the Barefoot Contessa on Commercial Drive.

I crack my egg with a silver spoon and enjoy my day’s start. 556 Beatty Street, Crosstown Vancouver 2009

The Salt Tasting Room in Gastown serves local charcuterie and cheeses. The chalkboard in the back lists choices to make into a tasting plate. Choose three meats or three cheeses, and then three sides to accompany those choices. We were treated to some cherries from the owner’s orchard, and the general manager Mike picked out some great local wines for us to try.

We arrived when they opened, so Mike Mitchell was able to recommend some of the other best food spots in Gastown. There’s a food revival going on, and among the new stars are The Irish Heather on Carrall Street, Boneta on West Cordova, and China Town’s Bao Bei.

Salt can be found in Trounce Alley along Blood Alley Square, between Water Street and Cordova Street. It’s next to Judas Goat Taberna.

Capitol Hill seemed like a good place to be during the World Cup. After unfruitful reconnaissance uncovered several coarse locations (beware of flip flops), it was refreshing to receive a recommendation from a brother of a friend: “go to Café Presse”. Forty-five minutes before Uruguay vs Netherlands, I scooped up the last seat at the bar and put my elbows alongside a lovely group of folks.

The “Œufs plats, jambon, fromage” for $7.50 was the second lovely surprise: a simple breakfast so far from any American egg scramble. Everything in the hot plate worked together without excessive grease or salt. I was not expecting those three ingredients could taste so light and satisfying. The servers were entirely Capitol Hill fare, with thick rimmed glasses and well-fitting trousers. Diners are surrounded less by décor than by natural wood, brick, and wonderfully bright sky light.

“I’m meeting a friend, she’s a Holland fan”, said the gentleman to my side as we talked until his friend arrived. Meeting friends and watching European sports is probably exactly what owners Jim Drohman and Joanne Herron had in mind when they opened Café Presse. They are French lifestyle enthusiasts, and after establishing themselves with the fine dining Le Pichet (Downtown near Pike Place Market) they opened the more casual Café Presse in order to cover some of the less weighty French habits. Picking up a magazine and spending the afternoon over a few light imported beers seems like a fine habit to encourage, and so I will afford you the address: 1117 12th Ave Seattle, WA 98122.