September 17, 2020 … Thursday night (The base of this post was originally written October 15, 2014 when I was a blog writer for Whidbey Life Magazine … 2014-2016)
I had an anxious day. Anxious because we are still in covid-stages of reopening and our restaurants are not yet open here on the island … and the thought of facing (and cooking) another dinner solo/that I myself had to put together was upsetting. I know – first world problems. But, you need to know something. I like to eat.
Each of us has our own gift, that thing we are good at without too much effort: baking the perfect pie, writing the perfect song, painting the perfect picture. You get the idea.
My gift is eating. Yes, I am an eater.
It’s not to say I don’t excel in other things. I make a mean box of Kraft dinner, I can cut-in a beautiful ceiling/wall line, I can tie my shoelaces without them getting undone. But one of the top things I excel at is, well…eating.F
I’m not a food critic. I am not a gourmet nor am I a gourmand. I don’t cook like Julia (though wouldn’t that be something?!). I just like to eat. And, more than anything, I like to eat something that I don’t have to make myself.
Which brings me to this anxiety I have over dinner. I’m tired of making stuff. I want to go OUT. I want to go somewhere and have someone WAIT ON ME. I want someone to bring me a glass of wine and something yummy to eat and I don’t want to have to think about it, cook it, or clean up after I’m finished. That sounds glorious.
So, tonight while I was thinking about dinner … I was inputting my writing portfolio (still) into my computer and came upon this blog post – about food on the island. It was a nice little jaunt down memory lane and while reading, I figured out I had enough leftovers to make a tasty fajita. So, dinner solved but oh, how I miss eating out!
Usually by the time I realize I should eat something, I want food NOW. As in right this minute. Immediately. Do not pass GO. If I had to pull out a cookbook and look up a recipe, I’d end up eating the book. And, on occasion, I have been known to eyeball the dog’s dish. So, yeah … I don’t take the time to pull out my Dutch oven and whip up something yummy (though on occasion that does happen). I simply throw together something easy, on-hand and quasi-tasty and call it good. Or, at least, I call it dinner.
That is why when I venture out, I want it to be FABULOUS. I want the trifecta of dining experiences. The establishment must have some sort of notable ambiance—cute, classy or charming—but always clean. The wait staff has to be personable and know their food and want to be in the service industry. And, lastly, the food should be tasty, attractive, and sufficient.
In other words, I don’t want to be served a dot of lemon-basil cream next to one seared scallop with an accompaniment of foam by a snotty waiter while sitting next to the back door. I want to be pampered and I want it to be pleasant and attractive. And, I want to EAT.
In other words, I’m kind of picky.
Someone once said, “Il cibo si mangia prima con gli occhi.” Or if you don’t know Italian, “Eat first with your eyes.” That is so true, and I am such a visual person, that the plating and presentation and eatery surroundings are almost as important to my experience as is the food. I don’t want to be seated next to the bathroom or the kitchen or any wait station. If the place has a window, put me there. If it’s got a fireplace, I am practically sitting on the hearth. If it’s tiny and noisy, put me smack dab in the middle of it all and let me dine on the noise and the aromas and the atmosphere—along with the food.
I’ve been here now over six years … and a lot of things have changed since those early days. Oddly, all of my favorite eateries have gone bust. Gone. Closed. Too bad because I could really go for dinner at any one of them about now! What we have left is pricey and mediocre and not worth my time, money, or risk of a public outing. But, pre-Covid and when I wrote this post, I’d only lived on the island for three months and somewhere along my new path I had decided to eat my way around the island. I had a long tasty road ahead, and had many meals at these favorites places.
Plentiful Penn Cove Mussels from the Knead and Feed in Coupeville (photo by Sam McCarthy)
Knead and Feed in Coupeville (up island from me about 40 minutes) was a hidden gem. It was lovely! My daughter and I would have missed it had we not stopped in the bakery along the main street (for a sniff and a cookie) and were told about the restaurant around the corner and down the stairs. The place was very tiny (seating 34) and reminiscent of an old-time schoolhouse: white walls, heavy wood, thick mouldings and a wall of windows that opened to the Passage. We sat at our rustic wooden table looking out onto that beautiful waterscape. Sam enjoyed every mouthful of the succulent Penn Cove mussels that arrived piping hot to our table. Again, I’m not a food critic but the mussels were enormous (and from the waters on the other side of our window), the serving was huge (47 … we counted!) and they were served in a large bowl with a fragrant wine broth and a side of French baguettes. I am not a mussels fan, so I opted for the Reuben sandwich which was really so good. The rye bread was chewy and toasted perfectly with a good amount of lean corned beef and a palatable ratio of sauce to kraut. It was simply divine and a lovely, charming place for a tasty and inexpensive lunch or dinner.
(Knead and Feed has since changed hands. I’ll give them a try once the cafes are open again.)
Café Langley in Langley was soothing and wonderful. I don’t know if it was the window seating, the music, the well-dressed and pleasant wait staff or the Mediterranean cuisine (or perhaps all of those things), but I had dined there a few times and oh, how I wish I could go back again.The place was along main street in town and was another small cafe. Maybe 12 tables. It was “old world charm” in the Village by the Sea. It was cozy and welcoming and always a good meal. It had tables and booths tucked into the window alcoves and was just perfectly snug and charming and the food was simply delicious. The first time there I dined with my son and daughter and let’s just say all conversation ceased when we started in on the mussels (again, Penn Cove natives) in the garlic and saffron infused wine broth and the pasta with the chicken, mushrooms, artichokes and caramelized onions in an aromatic white cream sauce. The only sounds emanating from our table were mmm’s and ohh’s. It was quite embarrassing (and so tasty).
CL was owned by brothers and sadly one became ill and passed away. The restaurant changed hands but went downhill immediately and closed soon after. I really miss that place! It has since reopened as a seafood restaurant/bar … but they fall into the very pricey and not very good categories. Disappointing as we need a good place in town.
Whidbey Pies and Cafe in Greenbank was like eating lunch at Grandma’s. Known mostly for their pies, this cute little place was settled on the oldest Loganberry farm in the country – until the farm changed into a dog park. Some of the farm buildings remained and WP was housed in one of them next to the pond and gardens. Again, out with my daughter, we shared the huckleberry, glazed pecan and Gorgonzola salad (with warm huckleberry vinaigrette) and the turkey panini with cranberry chutney, Havarti and baby greens. It was like eating Thanksgiving – in a sandwich – in October. The salad and sandwich were equally fabulous. It was a wonderful split. The wait staff was always friendly and welcoming. The café was always so darling and farmy-charming with small wooden tables and some outside for garden seating. We ate there several times … and sadly, usually not remembering to leave room for PIE!
WP Cafe is under new ownership, a new name and is in transition. When reopened we’ll see what they will be serving. The place is just so cute, I hope to be back!
And then there was the Glass Alley Cafe in Freeland (up island about 12 minutes). This establishment had it all. I loved this place and it was definitely my favorite place to go. The name was deceiving (better fit for a stained glass studio) but it was the cutest, small Italian bistro. It was simple, it was cozy, it was fresh. If I wasn’t going to go there and heartily enjoy their bruschetta, lasagna, fettuccine alfredo, Caesar salad, complimentary breads, tomato bisque, or cheesecakes, I’d go just to sit and have a glass of wine and a small plate because there was a fireplace, walls of windows and a little seating area that was off to the side and private. Just so nice. But I’d go for the food because it was (for lack of better words) to die for! And, Andrew (think Johnny Weir without the ice skates) – the maitre d’, was nothing less than exceptional in his position—he got it. He treated diners like royalty and made each of our visits more than special.
Sadly, this place closed all too soon after I found it. The owner became ill and had to move and the space was taken over by a real estate office. So sad.
I miss those places. I’m not really fond of anywhere else on this island (other than the pizza place in town). Call me weird, but I’m not too keen on forking over a lot of moolah for a ho-hum dinner. Pricey and mediocre we are known for. I prefer some place special.
And that is what dining out should be—special. It should be that trifecta of goodness: ambient, pampering and oh-so-yummy. And that same dining experience should leave not only your stomach full but also your soul.