Special K

Ah! "While we were at it . . ." Right up there with "This will be a very simple renovation when you get right down to it." I was really lucky; the folks we bought this place from had just done the remodel (exactly as I would have done just about everything) before deciding to sell. I've seen "before" photos! Guess I'm lucky I am right-handed -- I'd hate to have to rip the left-handed faucet out of the granite!!

I have heard the rumor that wine does come in other colors, but I've never felt the need to stray from red!

Just a random note about kitchen sink faucet placement - I noticed that in your sketch you have the faucet in the center over the sink, where it usually ends up. In my current kitchen the faucet (a Grohe Eurodeck single-lever with a retractable sprayer) is mounted (thanks the the house's previous owner) on the right hand corner, instead. Being right-handed myself, I find this much more comfortable, just as I'm sure a lefty would greatly appreciate having it over on the left side. I never would have thought of it myself, but it really is much more user-friendly than working from the center. I have just the one large, deep sink, which I'm very happy with, but I don't think it would make a difference if you did this on a double sink. Of course, if one of you is right-handed, and the other is left-handed, I guess centered would be the way to go Maybe that's why it's the default position.

Alas, we may now invite Emile Peynaud to this party (died last Sunday at the age of 92). I know, not a chef, but if you want to learn about wine, he's your man. K

OK, here's the Ponti report, as promised. Please let me know if this is too long. First, a caveat. We were with old friends whom we hadn't seen in a while, so I wasn't quite as aware of my surroundings as I might have been. I did look around and notice that the decor doesn't seem to have changed at all since we were last there, two-plus years ago. We started out with the Dungeness crab spring rolls with red curry aioli and cilantro. I seem to remember these used to be encased in thin, translucent skins in the days of yore, and now they have a thicker, crispy skin - just as yummy. Every bit of the aioli was licked. . . er, mopped up with the excellent bread. My companions, Special J, Special B, and Special D, also enjoyed the grilled marinated calimari with picholine olives, tomatoes, garlic, watercress and gremolata (I didn't get to it fast enough). Special J ordered the house smoked Alaskan black cod with lemon caper risotto, sauteed kale and red pepper coulis. It was a very large portion, and she pronounced it very good (and didn't share). Her husband, Special B, had the rosemary braised Australian lamb shank with wild rice pilaf, sauteed spinich and dried fruit compote (he only ate the lamb, not bein' a vegetable-eatin' kinda guy). It, too, was a big portion, and he usta liked it, because it, too, disappeared completely. Special D had the heirloom tomato salad (which he did share - but he has to - he's my husband and them's the rules) - ah, real tomato taste!! He also had the Thai curre penne with grilled Alaskan weathervane scallops, Dungeness crab and tomato-ginger chutney (which he was happy not to have to share, because by then I was fully occupied with my own dinner ). I had - for the first time in my life - the softshell crab, and I just want to say, right here, right now, that I am seriously pi**ed at everyone on the planet who knew about this delicious goodness all these years and didn't INSIST that I try it before now!! (The leftovers were just as delicious at brunch this morning on a po' boy with a nice dollop of Alligator Soul chipotle mayo). Oh, yes, the wine. We shared a bottle of 2002 L'Ecole Syrah (Walla Walla). Perfect. When we asked the waiter for the wine list again, he saw us pointing to the bottle and heard "again" through the din (it was a very busy night - temperatures reached 96 degrees here in Seattle yesterday, and everybody in town apparently decided to let somebody else do the cooking -- even when we got there at nine it was still very hot outside, but inside the restaurant it was very comfortable). So anyway, instead of the wine list he brought us another bottle of the Syrah, which was just fine with us. For dessert I didn't see anything dark and chocolaty on the menu, so I ordered the Key lime pie. Turns out they were out, but our waiter (he said he did it) put together a nice cornmeal shortcake/mixed berry concoction that was just fine. Special D and I enjoyed that while Specials J and B raved over their cheese plate - they expecially liked the nice reduced Balsamic vinegar dressing. All told, we left the place happy. Special D grumbled a little bit later about the slow service, but I defended the poor waiter, who'd had to contend with a treacherous fellow wait-person who stole our calimari appetizer, a couple of large, rowdy tables, and one extremely persnickety couple (yes, I did come up for air after my first crab to have a look around). Now, LEdlund, I'd be interested in hearing your experience (I was afraid to ask before we went!). K

Alas, now we can invite Emile Paynaud to the party. Not a chef, but if we want to learn about wine, he's the go-to guy. K

Thank you. I'll take notes and report back. K

Haven't been in a couple of years; taking out-of-town guests who have fond memories of the place there tonight. Any recommendations? Thanks K

Hello all - newbie here. A thread about cooking scars and lessons learned somehow seems like just the right opportunity to jump in. First major burn: Frying bacon, got "popped" on the wrist, jerked reflexively, ended up with contents of pan on back of hand. Result: Nice dark patch (kinda looks like a birthmark), still visible 25 years later. Lesson: Cook bacon in the oven. First major cut: Tried to remove the pit from an avocado by holding in one hand (no towel) and popping my chef's knife into the pit to twist it out. Unfortunately, I missed the pit altogether and instead sliced down into the space between my first two fingers. Me: Excuse me, I've cut my hand and I need stitches. Nurse: Is it spurting? Me: No, it's not spurting, but I can see bone. Does that count? Nurse: That counts. Come on down, I'll fit you in. Result: Inch-long scar, slight residual numbness after about seven years. Lesson: Protect that hand with a towel. Some people are able to learn from others' mistakes. Some of us need to learn these things first-hand! K