It was supposed to be a simple night of bar food at the nicest restaurant in town: Canlis. It's made of stone and glass, and is perched high on a hill above Lake Union. I met up with my foodie friend and writer, Julien, and former coworker MaryBeth, in the bar. Sunlight sparkled through the glass, and I could see the snow-capped peaks of the Cascades. A young piano man's fingers danced across the keys as the foreign bartender shook fancy cocktails. We were going to order the lamb sliders and truffle fries off the bar menu, until the chef himself came out.
He regaled us with a story about a woman in Greek mythology, who ate pomegranate seeds to keep herself young, or something like that. Every drink had a story. Not only was this man a libation artist, he was a storyteller with a beautiful accent. Long after I'd slurped this margarita down, I told him to make me something with bourbon, and he came up with a smoking ice castle.
The food came next. The incredible, heart-breakingly beautiful food. Every bite was like heaven, the service impeccable. We started with a droplet of rubarb soup, then watermelon ceviche.
Waiters bustled around us like worker bees to their hive. Smiles, soft voices, quick hands that whisked away napkins and wiped the table down. At one point four waiters surrounded us as they regaled us with the ingredients to these masterpieces. First, yellowfish tuna with a gelatin sauce.
Then, salmon with fingerling potatoes.
Black cod wrapped in squash blossom.
Lamb loin with fried squash, and pepperoni.
The flavors blended so beautifully I thought I was in heaven. Even the owner himself, Mark Canlis, came over to introduce himself to my famous food writing friend. He has a lot to be proud of. Just when I thought the tasting menu was over, the waiters put another delectible treat in front of us. Sumac meringue crumbles and fresh strawberries topped with strawberry sorbet. This was the precurser to dessert.
THE PRECURSOR! It was a slice of heaven, tangy, yet sweet, smooth and soft, crumbly and moist. The best summer dessert. Then came the big cajones. It looked like a little purple bunny rabbit with wings, frolicking in the Garden of Eden.
In reality, it was sweet corn panacotta with blueberry sorbet, corn kernels and blueberry slices. (Thanks Julien, for writing all this down.)
It was an amazing experience, albeit spendy. I think MaryBeth put it the best.
"It's a party in my mouth, for my tastebuds."
Yes, it was. Thank God for fine dining.
(Again, Julien is an incredible food photographer!)
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