Christina Waters

At the very strategic corner of First Avenue & Union, next door to the Seattle Art Museum and hanging over Pike Place market, Union is a very smart island of low-key sophistication. Chef Ethan Stowell, whose sibling restaurants include the popular Tavolata and How to Cook a Wolf (cf. MFK Fisher), does simple, elegant, non-fussy things with regional ingredients.

I loved a squid salad (pictured here) luscious in a light tomato broth, tossed with olives, fennel, (more…)

Here’s my story, even if it isn’t what you expected.

I never made it to Israel. I got as far as Newark, when root canal complications got the best of me.

Swelling, pain, fever – the full Cleveland. And flying to the East Coast the day after major root canal work was probably, in retrospect, a bad idea. In a diagnostic epiphany, my prescient physician B. Hilberman pronounced it a case of “bad mazel.”

So I cancelled my flight to Tel Aviv. Cancelled my original return flight to SFO, and – after paying handsomely for the privilege – made a new return flight reservation.
Then I killed time by 1) seeing the Francis Bacon exhibit at the Met, 2) consuming pizza at Otto in the Village, and 3) mega-dosing ibuprofen, Cipro and lying flat on my back.

In the meantime, I got to know the lounge staff at the Hilton Newark Airport (Cobb salad dinner, left), and the labyrinthean off-ramps of the New Jersey Turnpike. Heavy skies, leaden humidity, the look of perpetual acid rain — the northeast reminded me all over again just why I live in California.

So, I have no tips for great dining in Jerusalem. Alas. But I can reveal that a subtle and delicate balance of anti-inflammatory pain killers, high powered antibiotics and steady doses of red wine can indeed help win the fight against pain and mid-career disappointment.

Onward!

Back from Vegas, I’m still trying to sort out the declining playground of Frank Sinatra & friends. More posts in the following days. . . .
For now, let’s just say that in addition to a tremendous meal at Mario Batali’s new Carnevino, we discovered an eco-haven (with a Platinum LEED ranking) in the Springs Preserve. Here we lunched - twice - at Wolfgang Puck’s all-organic, utterly delightful cafe (here’s the house salad).

Stay tuned.

Nope. Not Jean Genet. It’s restaurateur Paul Cocking (Gabriella Cafe) eating his way through Paris last month, one eponymous restaurant at a time. Blown away by what he tasted, Cocking and his traveling companion Jeannine Bonstelle sampled freely along the Left Bank, the Right Bank and everything in between.

The Ile St-Louis provided this gorgeous dish at a place called Mon Vieil Ami, 69 rue St-Louis-en-l’Ile, 4th. Culinary researcher Bonstelle found the place in Clothilde’s Edible Adventures in Paris. The bistro showcases the cooking of Alsace’s Antoine Westermann - including this gossamer salad of lightly steamed vegetables in broth.

Here’s another reason why I love to visit the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The museum’s restaurant invariably offers gorgeous lunch dishes for excellent prices.
This salmon tartare, served on a bed of transparent zucchini ribbons and topped with shaved fennel and a long wedge of house-made sesame cracker, was a knock-out with a glass of bubbly.

Our late September art walk through Rome included lodgings at the very old Palazzo Cardinal Cesi, a 15th century papal residence. Housed a few feet - literally - from St. Peter’s, we were able to stroll to a lifetime’s worth of great artwork, every day. (That’s me in the palazzo’s breakfast room, complete with barrel vaulting.) Just down the street and across the Tiber, we re-visited the Baroque masterworks by Borromini and Brunelleschi — the gold and marble interiors — and mannerist exteriors —that defined the 16th century during this gilded age.

After a long meditation inside the 2000-year-old Pantheon, it was time for a Campari — which, along with Fernet Branca, is our cocktail of choice this fall. Food, artwork, architecture, and the visually-dazzling tendency of Italians to be just that much more fashionable than anyone else - a remarkable trip. Our taxi drivers looked like they’d just stepped out of a Hugo Boss showroom. Waiters invariably resembled Caravaggios. Just too delicious.

Which brings me to the picture perfect bresaola appetizer at La Campana, in Rome’s medieval district. The marriage of cured beef and shaved grana is almost matchless.

But don’t take my word for it. Look down a few posts.

Worth a 13-hour flight, and then some.

The last day of September, we ended our trip in Florence, with dinner across the Arno at Mama Gina’s. Fresh porcinis were all over the menu, so we didn’t resist.

This beautiful plate of thinly-sliced, grilled beef was arranged across a bed of peppery arugula, topped with sautéed porcinis and fruity olive oil that seemed to find their way into so many of our dishes in Tuscany. It was possibly the finest layering of flavors I’ve ever eaten. So fine, that it obviously deserves another trip next year.

Entrees at la Campana followed an amazing salad of that curious wild celeryesque vegetable, puntarelle, bathed in an addictive anchovy sauce.