Sauced Closes Its Doors

The last patrons of the bar left, the glasses were washed, the plates dried, and the doors locked for the night. Mike and Charlotte sat in the back seat of the patrol car together for one last time. Val locked the doors with her keys, vowed to take a few days off from the business and never hire another blonde again. Saul smoked a few cigarettes as he stood on the platform, waiting for the Chicago bound train, the Ephemera vial safe in his valise. The stories had been told, the files closed, and the broken hearts laid to rest.

Another successful venture complete, Nordo tucked away Murray’s recipes for a later day. His first foray into the world of alcohol and intrigue had been a complete success. Now, winter hovered on the horizon, and it seemed appropriate to hibernate and contemplate the next great venture. The future is a wide open palette of possibilities. Maybe he will return to New York and take the city by storm, perhaps Chicago needs another three star establishment, or maybe, just maybe, he’ll settle down in Seattle for a while. Who knows?

I believe the bar will be back and maybe sooner than later. The style, the music, and the drinks seemed to touch the heart of Seattle. The Northwest likes to drink fine cocktails while being swept into an era of mystery with shocks of sexual tension. Seems like a fantastic combination to me. I will never forget the beautiful women belting on stage as the audience swooned in the dim lighting of the lounge. Another world had opened up, and those who made it in the doors fell in, swallowed by nostalgia and intrigue. The world was not a better place then than now. But we can always dream. It was like peaking into a speakeasy of the day. If life could always be like that maybe we’d all feel a bit grander. Or, at least, drunker. Let’s all romanticize the darker side of life, shall we?

Nordo feels proud of this one. He feels that he and his crew captured the essence of what it is to drink, to be in the bar of bars, to stay late into the night and stumble home, to fall for the woman at the next table, to throw caution to the wind, and forget the troubles of home, to watch the stars reel overhead, to feel high, and rich, and larger than life. It’s all in the love of alcohol.

That’s how life goes sometimes, you can either sip it or shoot it.

Peeking Into the Kitchen

The test kitchens have been wonderful, tipsy, stumble down the road affairs. Our guests have left with bright smiles and bleary eyes. The cocktails are that good. And the food, well, it’s been luxurious re-imagined bar food that pares with the history of the cocktail. Chef Nordo has outdone himself. But, he is not satisfied. He's been lumbering about, grumbling under his breath, turning in tight circles in the kitchen since a person or two mentioned the heat of the stuffed pepper and the extreme tartness of the preserved lemon. “Can’t these people take an adventure?” “What do they want, Applebees?” And so on and so forth. He never quite stops.

Today we take a peek into the menu.

We begin with a nut dish. The tumeric lime glaze sparks and then blends with the tart sweetness of the champagne cocktail called “The Slippage”. And this begins all the trouble for the evening.

Our second stop lands us in the land of botanicals and alchemy. Alcohol has been a medicine for humans since time immemorial. In the pursuit of purity, it was the Arabs who thought to distill wine and in the process discover alcohol itself. Known as “Aqua Vitae” a tablespoon a day was thought to give long life. It was the cure all. And in that spirit we serve The Secret Kiss, a combination of gin and yellow chartreuse. The aromatic concoction buoys the flavors of the Pickled Plate. Beets, cucumbers, quail eggs, and olives rest in a dill custard as an homage to all things preserved and fermented. The guests have been pleasantly surprised.

Next, we come to the American cocktail. This great invention of our country has inspired two centuries of tastes and sordid moments. We have reveled in our love of spirits, discovered the joy of ice, brought vermouth into the vocabulary, and finally arrived at the classic cocktail in the 1870’s with the Manhattan, the Sazarac, and the Martiniz. In this tradition we serve up a quiet ember of a drink- A Box of Nails- and pare it with the challenging Fried Food Platter. The two bite and soothe, bite and soothe.

We end the evening in a dream. Our final drink, The Violet Hour, pays tribute to the soft edges of time and color that is the cocktail hour, and when combined with the Raspberry Cloud meringue we hover in a final few moments of bliss. Enough said.

And that is our evening. A few more tweaks and few more twists, and this case is closed.

The Violet Hour

The violet hour, when the sun sets on the outside world and shadows lengthen with mystery, when a laugh can last a lifetime, and affections glow brightly. There’s the bar buzz at your back, and anybody who walks through the door could be somebody you want to know. It’s the cocktail hour. Time stands still.

Today Americans drink approximately 1/2 oz of distilled spirits a day per man, woman, and child. But back then, when the cocktail was born, it was 2 oz of liquor per day. The country was full of jitterbugs. It was drank at breakfast, as a medicine, at lunch break, and after dinner. Rum was the gold of the New World and the taxes on it’s production caused more furor and trouble than any pitiful English Tea. Alcohol. It made fortunes and bought votes.

The cocktail was the first American export around the world. Before we were known for our authors, our art, our steel, our textiles, or what have you, we were known for our drinks. It was something we were great at.

And what makes a good cocktail and not just some swill covered in syrup or water? The key is balance. Balance of mood. Of setting. Of ingredients. The soul of the spirit must be soothed before it can easily glide down the throat and coat the brain. It’s in the mixing, and in that there is something, magical.

Once inside the violet hour, the world outside may be an illusion and all of us here larger than life.

Looking for the American Bar

What does it take to follow the illustrious Chef Nordo around in search of the perfect cocktail, the perfect bartender, and the perfect bar food? First, you have to resign yourself to lost evenings and foggy, thunderous hangovers. Then, you have to accept the nacho plate, the jalapeno poppers, the atomic chicken wings, the chili dusted nuts, the fried oysters, the deviled egg, the pickled... and so on and so on. Who knows where you may wake up and what dribble of sordid ranch dressing may cling to your chin. I believe that Chef Nordo has a wooden leg. Or two.

Do not worry though. You do not have to follow in these footsteps. Your experience will be of the finest quality using only the best spirits, the finest ingredients, and the re-imagined essence of what bar food should be. Nordo will not stoop to hack pop-art. As always he will strive to provide the highest level of satiation and satisfaction. If you leave a little pickled and wake up in the arms of a co-worker, well, that is your decision and hopefully a nice addition to a wonderful dining experience.

What lurks in the laboratory besides a mess of cookbooks, food magazines, and scraps of paper with crudely drawn renditions of food? Well, in honor of our brothers in Siberia who have given us such wonderful foods that accompany alcohol, we labor on a pickled plate in the zaruski fashion. We begin with a home made cream cheese. (Note: Do not mistake half and half for buttermilk. Once the half and half is in you must add the buttermilk, and well, this is not low fat cream cheese.) Why most of us just buy such things like cream cheese once you endeavor to make your own is beyond us. Learn your food we say. What else are doing with your time?

Now, the roasted beets. Florescent pink and full of juice, hands are stained red with the blood of vegetables. Some are thrown on the stove with vinegar, salt, and sugar to create a pickling concoction while others are sliced into long rectangular spears. Up next is the darling quail egg. Very difficult to peel, we need tiny elf fingers, they are pickled in a beet bath until these little fuschia gems literally glow on the plate. Now, remove the pickled salmon from the fridge and slice thin sheafs of flesh. Almost all the ingredients are on hand.

But there is the coup de grace- a carrot saffron sheet. Here shines the genius of the modern kitchen. Imagination and experimentation collide. Once the juice of the carrot is boiled and slowly whisked with gelatin and agar agar it is poured over an acetate sheet. With small shifts of the sheet the substance pools outward into a thin (1/16") puddle. Chilled for no less than 15 min. this sheet can then be pulled free, and like delicious gummy rubber that tastes like the essence of carrot, it can be sliced, rolled and wrapped about a pickled beet slathered in cream cheese. Perfection. It is carrot incarnate.

Next, the salmon wraps a barely pickled cucumber. The quail eggs are stood on end. And over the entire setting a dill and lemon sauce is applied for dipping. Toss some fresh dill, a few fried capers, and voila. I think we have stumbled upon something here. Something clear but potent, standing tall beside a cocktail, and intriguing to eat. We have a winner in the lab.

We cannot wait until this mixture of vegetable tartness can mingle with a dry gin cocktail.

Next up: Why is we drink and what is the magic of a proper bar?

Cafe Nordo Returns to Seattle!

Apparently Mr. Nordo Lefesczki loves Seattle. He's returning this fall with another grand premiere. Maybe the rest of the country just doesn't get how cool this guy is. Regardless, he's back, and we're happy to say he's got yet another new idea under his hat. This guy never stays with the same format. He's always out to impress. This time his restaurant becomes a bar, his imagination is tackling the world of bar food, and he's wrangled a master of cocktails to work with him. And, by the press release you'll see below, he's obviously got a wacky story of intrigue to accompany his inventions.

Stay tuned for more salacious details. As we get behind-the-scenes information on the food and the production you know we'll pass them along. We just love the Cafe Nordo dirt here at this blog.

In a secret gin-joint within Theo Chocolate Factory the incomparable Chef Nordo Lefesczki teams up with “America’s Best Bartender” Murray Stenson to bring Seattle an evening of sizzling entertainment, creative food, amazing cocktails, and smokin’ music that harkens back to another era.

This fall, Café Nordo returns to Fremont with “Sauced”, one part historical tour of mixology, one part film noir style thriller, shaken and served up with a dash of surreal. Fedoras nod to the beat of original jazz tunes performed live, as four of the top performers in Seattle deliver salty one-liners and perfectly poured classic cocktails to an intimate audience. Paired with each cocktail is Chef Nordo Lefesczki’s interpretation of bar food, deconstructed, reconstructed, and then deconstructed again. As per the laws of Café Nordo, only the finest local, sustainable ingredients are served, and local craft distilleries provide the booze.

With Billie Wildrick (most recently seen in Candide and On The Town at the 5^th Avenue Theatre) as the bombshell lounge singer, Mark Siano (“One of Seattle’s top cabaret acts” – Seattle Gay Scene) as the washed up bar owner, and Opal Peachey as the cocktail waitress on the edge, and Ray Tagavilla (Seattle Magazine Spotlight Award Winner) as the bartender with a secret, Sauced delves into the sexy, dirty, soul-baring darkness of humanity under the influence. Under the “beguiling” (Seattle Times) spell of Annastasia Workman’s original jazz score, performed live by the Café Nordo House Band, audiences sip and taste as a story of mystery and betrayal unfolds all around them.

Seattle’s own Sultan of the Sauce, Murray Stenson, lends his expertise by designing the evening’s flight of cocktails. In July, Stenson won the highest award for mixology in the US, “The Best Bartender in America,” voted by his peers at the 2010 Tales of the Cocktail festivities in New Orleans. Currently at the Zig Zag Café, and formerly at Il Bistro, Stenson’s blend of historical knowledge, originality, and craftsmanship garnered him national recognition in The New York Times, Playboy Magazine, and Salon.com.

After two acclaimed five-course dining experiences, Café Nordo tipples towards its third Seattle installment, changing the form but not the experience. The first, The Modern American Chicken, won Café Nordo a Seattle Times Footlight Award for Excellence in Local Theater, and introduced audiences to Café Nordo: “A fricassee of satire, zany antics and enlightened food consciousness, ‘Café Nordo has a unique spin on dining, wine-ing and watching…with kinky sincerity, the show spoofs chef-cult madness but sincerely honors the consumption of a well-cooked meal” (Seattle Times). The second, Bounty! An Epic Adventure in Seafood (“Fun filled and action packed” – Northwest Wining and Dining) treated audiences to “preternaturally fresh” (Seattle Times) seafood along with the science and folklore of the Salish Sea. Through sizzling entertainment, creative food, amazing cocktails, and smokin’ music, Sauced harkens back to a different era. A much cooler era.

For more information visit www.cafenordo.com

USS Nordo Docks at Port

The sails are furled, the deck swabbed, and the food stores emptied. Bounty! An Epic Adventure in Seafood has come to an end. It was another success for Chef Nordo and his production crew. From the decks of a 1896 sailing vessel cruising the Salish Sea to the dystopia of the Kodiak Island Resort audiences were enthralled with the food and the stories of our delightful oceans.

Once again Chef Nordo impressed with his unique vision of food. His relentless passion to serve quality foods both local and sustainable while simultaneously exposing the importance of food in our lives gave us another menu that shocked and satisfied. Here are a few pictures of the delicacies served at Cafe Nordo's Bounty!.

Perhaps, if we consciously choose our seafood each and every time we sit down to eat and remember that our sea life cannot be taken for granted, we will ensure an abundance of magic and food for generations to come. For all of those who came, Thank You, and for those of you who missed it, well, I'd like to say there will be something else like it in the future, but Bounty! proved to be a experience unlike anything else Seattle has seen.

Keep an eye out for more Cafe Nordo culinary adventures in the fall. And as the next story develops we will chronicle it here at the Carnal Food blog.

And Chef Nordo has been heard mumbling something about a one time event/fundraiser for the whole community to enjoy- Roast a Critic!!! We can only dream.

The USS Nordo Sets Sail

We are at the mid-point of our voyage. Only 9 shows remain.

My lord, it’s been too long since the last entry. Oh the things that have gone on here at Cafe Nordo. In that time the incredibly absurd voyages of the USS Nordo have set sail entertaining Seattle audiences with the ocean's delights. The voyage is just now half done with 9 trips left. Each night a new group of adventurous souls travels with us through the wonders of the Salish Sea to arrive at the most hip apocalyptic beach resort yet conceived- Hotel Kodiak. I won’t give away any endings but you should know that our party hosts (despite their peculiar physical condition) serve up a wicked rum shot with dessert, can do a mean marimba, and have plenty of SPF 190 on hand to fend off those scorching rays of our new sun.

Check out this review from the Seattle Times and enjoy the following production shots that give just a hint of what's hidden inside Cafe Nordo.

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/thearts/2011949663_cafenordo26.html

And look out for the continuing adventures of our Chef. What is the next diabolical plan?

The Siren's Tale

Once upon a time there was a sea, a sea that swallowed sailors, and their cries echoed between the waves and the sun like all the forlorn cries of gulls fighting for a bit of dead fish. Between its waves, waves towering like the gaping maw of cliff sides, the sailors cried their pitiful cries and disappeared, sunk to the bottom like so many rocks, with no more in their eyes than rocks, until they touched the sandy bottom and became the roots of kelp. Sailors love the sea and seas love to swallow sailors.

Isabella sees them all. She watches them from her undersea garden. They find more waves, and more rocks, and more kelp to sleep in. They find more to name and more to net and they never cease. They are a hoard.

The gulls who swim in the sky urge us into the waves. They chide us to charge on, swim on. They are the jokesters laughing at us. And we fly wild into the sea no longer made of water, into the waves that tear us apart into strips of wind, into the rocks bare and parched in this new sun’s heat. Along the dark horizon, where the ships sit like tiny toys on the dry seabed and the great nets unravel, the bodies of all the sailors will be revealed and their water soaked souls will sing. These laments are the songs of love and loss on the Salish Sea.

Nordo In the Beginning

Nordo In the Beginning 1

(Manuscript founds under an old fryer in the Haight district of San Francisco. Fryer was used for fries as well as falafel. The pages were in such poor condition and stuck together in a mass that it took 4 scientists 10 years to transcribe it.)

1 In the beginning God created the stomach and the kitchen.

2 Now the refrigerator was formless and empty, the crisper and cupboards were bare, and a great hunger roiled in the depths.

3 And God said, "Let there be fat," and there was fat. 4 God saw that the fat was good, and he placed the fat in a skillet on high heat, whisked, adding butter and a small portion of cornstarch. 5 God called the fat “gravy”. And how the combination of animal juices and butter created a substance to love. And there was mashed potatoes and gravy—the first meal.

6 And God said, "Let there be fermentation in the yeasts and separate the liquid from the solid." 7 So God made the wheat ferment as it lay in the sun and caused the sugars of the liquid to differ from the sugars of the solid. And it was so. 8 God called the solid “bread”, and he called the liquid “beer”. And there was a pint of ale and a bowl of pretzels—the second meal.

9 And God said, "Let the times of the day separate, let the day be divided into three meals and a few snacks between, so that a variety of tastes may be consumed." And it was so. 10 God called the first "breakfast," and the second he called "lunch," and the third he called “dinner.” He allowed the times between to be filled with every array of chip and cookie, every precut carrot and celery stalk, and as an added bonus he made another time, after dinner, in which sweets would taste good and this he called “dessert.” And God saw that it was good.

11 Then God said, "Let the land produce vegetation so that the bowels may be regular and the vegetarian may annoy the omnivore: let seed-bearing plants and trees that bear fruit grow, according to their various kinds." And it was so. 12 The land produced corn, wheat, arugula, spinach, grapefruits, brussel sprouts, collards, squash, and all other amazing varieties of edible plants. And God saw that it was good. 13 And though all these wonders existed, there was an iceberg lettuce salad dotted with cherry tomatoes and strings of grated carrot—the third meal.

14 And God said, "Let the water teem with fish to hook and net." 15 So God created the salmon, the bass, and the cod, the great tuna and the farmed tilapia- all the great creatures of the sea and every living and moving thing with which the water teems, according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. 16 God blessed them and said, "Be fruitful and increase in number the many ways of being prepared each to its own kind whether in a can with oil, or rolled with sticky rice, or slightly braised with a dash of lemon and a sprig of rosemary.” And God, in his infinite wisdom slathered the flesh of a cod in batter and dropped it into the boiling oil. Vinegar was the finishing touch. 17 And God saw it was good, and there was fish and chips—the fourth meal.

18 And God said, "Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: livestock, that move slowly along the ground, each one easy to round up and herd, with little brains and even littler desire to flee, each according to its kind." And it was so. 19 God made the wild animals into the livestock according to their kinds, and so the lumbering cow, truly a package of meat waiting to be eaten if ever these was one. And the cow was kept in a pen, fed, and culled, skinned and packaged between Styrofoam and plastic wrap so that all the men and women of the earth may eat the top sirloin. And God saw it was good. And He said, “Let the process be so simple that all that man requires is a grill and a bag of self lighting coals.” And it was so. And there was the fifth meal- steak off the grill.

20 And God said, "Let there be different culinary styles with variable ingredients and methods to separate the Mexican from the Italian, and the Indian from the Chinese, and let them be served as traditions to mark restaurants, 21 and let them be revered and give the earth a great variety of flavors." And it was so. 22 God made many great traditions —the great Mexican to govern the taco and the great Italian to govern the pizza, the great Indian to govern the tandori, and the great Chinese to govern the dim sum. He also made the perogis, the spatzens, the Denver omelettes and the tapas. 23 God set them along the avenues of the Midwest, 24 to satisfy during both the day and the night, and to separate full stomachs from hunger. And God saw that it was good. 25 And there was the ethnic restaurant—the sixth meal.

26 Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them hook the fish of the sea and shoot the birds of the air, let them lord over the livestock at their mechanized troughs and determine which of all the creatures of the earth are worth consuming and which are only for show. Let them lord over all the grills and ovens of the earth, let them know the use of the spatula and make good with the Quisinart- TM."

27 So God created man in his own image, male and female he created them. And so man, a little hairier than needed with a paunch and dirty fingernails, in his greasy white apron and floppy hat, stood in the kitchen of a diner with a cigarette dangling from his lips, and he burped. And knowing that this one could never do the job well, He created the lady and put her in something pink and above the knee, gave her a husky voice and an order ticket, and she smiled a weary smile.

28 God blessed them and said to them, "Be numerous and roam the earth in search of something fried; fill the diner booths of the world and drink too much cheap, black coffee."

29 Then God said, "I give you every slice of bacon and every serving of hash browns, every hamburger patty and every sausage link and every shred of meat unusable for that patty and that sausage link ground up and made into a hot dog. I give you the chicken breast fried and covered with gravy, the grayish lima beans and fruit cocktail in the can. They will be yours for food. 30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds of the air and all the creatures that move on the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give corn for food whether or not that animal is suited to it." And it was so.

31 God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was the diner for every other meal.

Nordo In the Beginning 2

1 Thus the stomach and the kitchen were completed in all their vast array.

2 By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he sat down in front of the television with a plate of water crackers and sharp cheddar cheese, and he rested ^[a^] from all his work. 3 And God drank a six-pack of light beer on the seventh day and became drunk, and so he slept well and snored after all the drinking that he had done.

On the Deck of USS Nordo

“Damn it, man, can’t you pull with your back. Use your body not just your pinky. We haven’t left the harbor yet and you’re proving yourself worthless.

“What’s gotten into you? You lost the will to live, son? Why, I’ve seen overweight Midwestern children with more heart. You’re not going to last long on this ship.

Captain Nordo barks orders at us, his lackeys. The intensity of his gaze makes up for the bone chilling breeze on this March day on the Salish Seas. We have come far, beyond the San Juans and after a couple days of hard sailing we near the warmer waters of Desolation Sound. Here, where the tidal waters of Puget Sound and the Stait of Georgia collect and become trapped amongst the numerous inland islands we hope to find the answer of all our questions. Captain Nordo drives us in his need to know. He’s heard the rumors of a place Jacques Cousteau called one of the best places on planet Earth to dive and explore the wonders of the underwater world. It’s known as God’s Pocket.

God's Pocket hides within the reaches of Desolation Sound. How appropriate is this? Is there a clearer example of poetic justice? How do we create such obvious examples of our human condition? I digress into idle threads of thought, but the air is so clear and the waters so endless how can I not let my thoughts reach for an ending, a shore that demarks the end of a grand journey?

“Stop your worthless daydreams and pay attention.”

Will he ever relent?

“Bring her about and into the wind. Get ready to jibe. We’re setting course for that small rock of an island as a place to anchor.”

A frigid spray off the waves soaks the clothing upon my back. We bound up and through and slap down in the troughs with such force that we all nearly topple over. The sea has turned turbulent as we’ve neared our destination. As our captain frets and pounds the deck with the soles of his boots, cursing our incompetence and the weather in a single breath, he seems to have asked for a challenge from the invisible forces that surround us. And he would like it no other way. Without a challenge can there be a victory? Without a falling though time and space can there be a dream? Without the specter of an ocean system strangled under our hands can there be joy in finding a truly pristine seas?

“This is the spot. Heave to.”

The ropes are pulled and coiled. The sails are reefed. The tiller tied taught.

Why can’t we spend our lives searching for the best food on the planet? Why not spend our energies on finding the best ways in which to eat and therefore live?

The breeze passes by kissing our checks with lips of ice. I shiver but there’s no discomfort that could ruin this moment. The sun fights to break through the clouds.

“For god’s sake will do something besides staring up at the sky like a damn idiot? We’ve got work to do. You think these people can eat daydreams?”

Experiment #4- The Island and the Carnage

We cruise the Asian market. Sea cucumber, clams from around the Sound, oysters, mussels, whole rock fish with the wild look of death in their eyes, the large suckers on the amorphous body of an octopus (local), squid clean and white.

We jump to the third course and have no desires to work on the Big Bang. Tonight’s deal: Mollusk Island. The Siege of Land by the Sea Creatures. Clams will scale the ocean floor. Squid will wrap their tentacles about the foliage of the land.

Gibberish crowds our heads. Seafood, Sailors, and Sea Monsters in the Salish Seas. Sea Monsters Ravage the Salish Seas. Seafood and Sailors: The Evolution of Sea Monsters. When will the answer appear, perhaps in a message wrapped in the Styrofoam packing of an Asian delicacy.

Back at the laboratory we dequill the squid and debeard the mussels. Debearding kills the little guy. They fight back a bit and everyone once in a while the tongue extrudes from the shell with the tug at the beard. Brutal. Polenta sits aside waiting to be the sand of the island.

Butter in the pot. Shallots (whole medium) and onions (whole small) swim in the butter. 3 small leaks are added. A fennel bulb follows. We’re going for it. This will be the broth of the sea, a light green that will become the Sargasso seas. 2/3 a cup of white wine gives it a kick. The root vegetables will be the vegetables of the sea, the seaweed landscape hugging the contours of the island. 3 cups of fish stock. One package of squid ink. Ohh. Maybe not so good. A bit grey for an ocean.

Once boiling the squid, the mussels, and the clams are thrown in. Covered. And just like that it’s done. The bivalves are cooked. Seafood is the test for cooking just the right amount of time. Good seafood is all about perfect timing needing just a bit of love on the stove and nothing more.

Now for the staging (plating). The island is placed in a large bowl. The bivalves are beautiful with root vegetables clinging to them. The bivalves and squid bodies are piled around the island, the veritable creatures of the sea crowding the land under the seaweed bed of onions, shallots, and fennel.

We’re not overwhelmed. Again, our attempts at telling the perfect story give only minimal successes in the culinary realm. First, too much squid ink, we don’t need a black/ grey sea, and it was so beautiful before adding the ink. Maybe we’re trying to be too cute. Two, squid bodies are a bit tough. This will take study. The clams and mussels do well, and the polenta is a good island, but somehow the whole thing is unappetizing and just not interesting enough in flavor. And here we run into a tough question. How do we improve upon the fruit of the sea?

We are happy in concept and lacking in execution, but that is the name of the game here in the laboratory, and so we move on to another experiment that proves to be a challenge.

We go for opening a sea urchin. But, there’s a slight problem that brings the whole world of life into focus. It’s alive and still moving. The spines slowly rotate and twitch. It’s trying to live, and yet, we are hoping to cut it in half. We know it can’t scream, but… This is very difficult. We look longingly at each other.

Yvette starts sharpening the knife and we send good will to the urchin. May he go to sea urchin heaven so that we can eat its gonads. This is all very carnal.

A lot of crunching is involved. It crunches. The spines still move. We bisect it and pour out the juices. There’s a lot of strange organs in here. We see the delicious tongues of meat. Oh my god. It smells a bit like a sewer line. This is very surreal. The first thing we pull out looks like the mouth, the extruded stomach inverted into the body. This is all a bit harrowing. Yvette has a concerned look on her face. A killing has occurred.

But oh, it’s delicious. The five loaves of meat are buttery and smooth. A treat. This is the crux of understanding life.

Experiment #3- The Invertebrate Salad

Tossed amongst the waves, carried by the currents of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, pushed west and east, north and south, a clear bottle with a small note made its way into the Puget Sound. It washed up on the shore of Alki Beach where the pioneers of Seattle first landed. The cork had done its job; the note within was pristine and dry.

The USS Nordo has set sail. A heartfelt meal of the sea is being prepared. Keep the lookouts on patrol. She will drop anchor in Seattle in early May. Nordo willing.

The laboratory is cooking. Tonight’s experiments promise a breakthrough in the science of oceanic evolution. We descend below the surface, pop open a bottle of dry, white Spanish wine (my personal favorite) and begin our work. On tonight’s menu:

The Invertebrate Salad

The Big Bang (once again)

We tackle the salad- our second course in the evolution of the seas, an homage to the greenery and the spineless of the seas. First, blanch seaweed in salty, as salty as the sea, water. What was once brown becomes a deep, pine forest green. Cucumbers are thinly sliced and pickled in rice wine vinegar (8 oz.), 1/2 cup salt, 1/4 sugar, and thinly sliced ginger. Placed in the fridge for a few hours, it waits while we get our second experiment underway.

We go for another attempt at the Big Bang. If God had this many failed attempts at his Big Bang Amuse Bouche then what grotesque mistakes must be floating about in the matrix of alternative universes. (Shudder) We abandon the previous theories (see experiments #1 and #2) and go for a gelatin. A stock is made from mussels. 1lb scrubbed and bearded. 3 garlic gloves peeled and smashed. 1 large peeled shallot. 4 sprigs of thyme. 3 small bay leaves. 1 1/2 cups of dry white wine. Once boiled (covered) remove the mussels as they open. Strain, add an equal amount of blanching liquid from the seaweed (see above) and 4 grams of squid ink, and bring to a boil. This may be the concoction of the cosmos.

Place in a shot glass half full and cool in an ice bath to set the gelatin. Place remainder of liquid into fridge for now.

Once shot glass gelatin is half set add roe and top with remaining squid ink mixture from the fridge to cover the roe. Cool in fridge. Let sit for some time. We will wait 20-30 minutes before checking. 6:30pm. if this works a thickened substance of the sea will hold the roe in suspension as a surprise.

Back to the Invertebrate Salad. Plant life clings to the ocean floor. Transparen breathe in and out, propelling themselves through the ocean, and the sea cucumber pulls itself along the ocean floor sucking at the detritus. Sound appetizing? I think so.

The salad dressing will be as such- 1/2 cup of rice wine vinegar. 1/4 cup of soy. 1/2 teaspoon of peeled and minced ginger. Cat hair (optional). 1/2 cup of sesame oil. The mixture is placed on 1lb. of seaweed and marinated. On second thought, perhaps the marinade is a bad idea as the seaweed may lose all texture. Too late. It's doused.

Yvette lays out a school of pickled-cucumber-jellyfish upon the plate. A small mound of seaweed is spread atop the jellyfish cucumbers and finally, a sea urchin gonad is laid on top of the mound. The soft orange of the urchin contrasts well with the varying greens of the plate. We sit to taste.

The salad is amazing. The green hues are vibrant in both look and taste, full of bite and tang, while the silky and delicate tongue of the sea urchin provides richness to the whole ordeal. Perhaps the tang of the seaweed (the vinegar) is too strong for the urchin and the two should be separated, but the melting meat with the cucumbers is a match made in heaven. The sesame is a good touch but the vinegar needs to be pulled back. That may be the only adjustment. The first Invertebrate Salad is a wonderful experience- sharp, strong, rich, sexual, full of vitamins. We toast our first success of the wonders of the ocean. The sea urchin is the foi gras of the sea, a smooth tongue of deliciousness.

We end our evening's experiments with The Shot. The Big Bang. The Primordial Ooze. After nearly 3 hours we sit down to sample. The shot glass is briefly warmed in a bowl of nearly boiling water so that the gelatin does not grip the glass. Turned upside down, the two layers separate and one glob of black gelatin falls, then a few roe, then the second layer follows, and it splatters out upon the plate. The squid ink has coagulated and floats about in the gelatin like a Rorschach test, all stringy and randomly coagulated. The roe barely glow. And we taste. The sea. The salt. The sea. The salt. And not so good. We’ve made progress and almost attained the consistency of what we all know to be primordial ooze, but the flavor cannot be just fish. No. We need the flavor of life itself exploding in the mouth, the flavor of innovation and triumph, the flavor of champagne perhaps. We need a surprise so that the trepidation at throwing back a shot of black, gelatinous ooze rewards with a glorious, clean, exhilarating blast of life. We will discover the right flavor and come the time of the show, we will present a great neon menagerie of amino acids and DNA, and we will giggle, and we will prance across the palette. Wait and see. Fingers crossed.

Experiment #2- In Search of the Primordial Ooze

We channel Jacques Cousteau, part the Salish Seas, and search for that from which all life sprang. We wish to create a dish that says, “I am the beginning of life,” and from this point evolution may take its course.

We attempt a sabayon of the savory variety. This may be the consistency we want for the ooze- creamy, with body, but melting in the mouth. Typically, a sabayon is wine (either white or port), sugar, and egg yolks heated and whipped so that air can enter and increase its size up to 4 times. Used for desserts it is akin to a sweet custard, at least once the French got a hold of it, but originally the sabayon was a foamy way to serve wine and such spices as cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg could be added. But, with a savory version flavored and colored with squid ink, we will create an ooze with a garnish of fluorescent salmon roe for that otherworldly quality of the cosmos. The first step is the milking of the squid for ink. As before the head is separated from the tube with a gentle tug, and the quill extracted to expose the pearly sac of ink we need. Next the beaks are removed and the body cut into sections.

These squid are full of guts. They are a bit gross. Note: 1/2 lb of squid is sufficient for ink.

We contemplate on how to make what is usually a sweet dish into something savory. Do we remove the sugar from the process? Will that kill the rising of the sabayon? Do we add lemon and salt to complement the ocean flavor of the squid? These are the questions.

Quick work. The squids have been milked.

Having never made a sabayon before I attempt to record the chaotic system of Yvette. First we harvest the ink from the sacs using hot water. A sabayon is equal volumes of sugar and yolks adding wine at any time during the process. According to the patron saint of cooking, McGee, it is the lack of moisture that prevents the yolks from rising. It does NOT say that sugar is needed for it to rise, and if anyone would include that in his instructions it would be McGee.

So, in our first experiment: 3 eggs is 1/4 cup. So normally a 1/4 cup of sugar would be used. We will try a 1/8 cup of sugar with a 1/2 cup of wine. We cook it in a glass bowl within a pot- for equal cooking surface. And wow. It’s foamy immediately. Bananas. And after a few seconds a smidgen of squid ink is added saving some in case the experiment is a bust. Color is not taking. We need 100% squid ink perhaps. We need uncut squid ink. And it’s too sweet and salty. Too much sugar for sure. Another egg is added to solidify the mixture. So, we need less sugar and uncut squid ink. Also, the roe needs to float, as of now it sinks, and then maybe we have it, but that is many steps away from now.

A moment to ponder: Will our food glow under a black light? We need to experiment with this after some substance abuse. Another night.

We taste the savory sabayon with salmon roe. Noses wrinkle. The tongue squirms. It wants to flee. A big, “No”. Failure. With the roe it is confusing and feels just wrong. No one puts sweet foamy wine mixture with roe. Damn.

We will try it w/ no sugar. Wine, salt, yolks, ink. And nothing else. If this is going to work we need to have no sweetness, and it must be denser. And then perhaps other flavors such as salt, lemon, or ginger. Or perhaps we add soy; it’s dark, it’s salty, it goes with seafood.

1/4 cup yolks. 1/4 cup wine. No sugar. Dashes of soy sauce. Note: heating the squid ink and water does not work as the ink separates into tiny globules in suspension.

Remember this is compacting the Big Bang into a champagne glass meant to be spooned. Isn’t that ridiculous.

We taste the second attempt. The texture and density are what we are looking for, but too bad it tastes like shit. So close, in a way. Wine and soy sauce do not mix. It sticks to the tongue like it has hair on it. How do we do this? What do we want to enrobe our roe in? A fish ooze. Perhaps, it should have no wine but instead fish oil or a fish stock or a clam juice. Could it be an herbal mixture? Would that work?

These are questions that only the inquisitive light of the Calypso can answer. The beginning is always the hardest. Isn’t it? To soothe our damaged egos we listen to some John Denver. Some other day we will journey further on into the world’s darkest mysteries and attempt to illuminate what only the bravest palettes have discovered. Good night.

A post note: We drift off into sampling sea tangle, salsify, and other not so relevant items found at Oujimaya. Sake meant to be warmed, meaning not very refined, can only be found in magnums. Is this a problem? Sake: the silent buzzer.