Just when I think it might be nice to gnaw on a simple roast and gaze contentedly out the frost-paned window whilst puffing on a pipe wearing a sweater with elbow patches, THE DARK SIDE CREEPETH FORTH. The Dark Side has a voice and it sounds suspiciously like James Earl Jones. I’m at the butcher shop, fingers fondling an enticing slab of chuck, and The Dark Side says, “How the hell are you going to modernize a roast, Salty? You have a reputation to uphold- go buy some sustainable Ahi tuna and update Ahi Poke. It’s so tired with those boring wontons and gloppy salsa. Make it new, fresh and hip or I will chase you down the street with the giant roast you’re clutching and I’ll throw it at your head and it will land on your face and you’ll hereto forth be known as Roast Face rather than Salty Seattle.  Do you really think Roast Face would be a good name for a blog? I didn’t think so. Now take off that nubbly sweater and those hideous rain boots, put on your big girl panties and a pair of stilettos, and feed me something clever.” Read more

*This is a post for consideration in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice recipe competition. If you like to get all crazy El Bulli-style, you should check out both the contest and the book HERE.

If necessity is the mother of invention, luxury must be the father of reinvention, no? There is the argument- why mess with a good thing? But I say, why not when there is the possibility to create a truly great thing. French fries and ketchup are good. Poutine is great. Your first time was good, your 50th time (complete with curled toes) was great. Passable Eggs Benedict are good. Even really, really good. But these Eggs Benedict are as stratospheric as that time you did it in the hot springs with the guy who was really into Kamasutra. Isn’t that the kind of greatness we should aspire to in the kitchen? Read more

Being the West coast wild child that I am, chicken and waffles wasn’t exactly a staple of my youth. Because of that, I had no qualms about eviscerating it to its very core and recreating it Salty Seattle-style.  If you are some kind of Roscoe’s purist, or your mama makes the best chicken and waffles this side of the great divide, you may not want to read about my bastardization. (There- full disclosure)

The first time I had chicken and waffles was on a recent trip to Detroit. It was served in what I assume was a traditional fashion- fried chicken with waffles and maple syrup. It was good, don’t get me wrong. However it could have been SO much better. My ruminations and research began that day, and I’ve finally come up with a more-than-passable update on an old classic. Read more