To be this unobservant in my own neighborhood is shameful. So close to home- how could I have missed this place? The exterior is wood shingled, I see white curtains in the windows, a sign planted out front. Walking in, I am welcomed by Chef Dustin Ronspies and another gentleman seated in the kitchen, who turns out to be a wine merchant. Dustin is tall, taller than me anyway (I’m 5’11-6’0). A bandanna pushes his curly brown hair away from his face, he’s dressed casually in a blue “Swinery” T-shirt, rolled pants and tennis shoes…no chef jacket- just an apron.

Read More

I live a heartbreaking 800 miles away from Bounty Hunter, my favorite barbecue joint. The place is stellar…as well as not so conveniently located in Napa, CA. I love it, long for it and even though I live far away- I think of it regularly. Anybody and everybody that resides even remotely close to that goldmine needs to have a visit- believe me, it is brilliant through and through. A post on it will happen…just not yet. First, I wanted to address a more recent and local discovery. I bring the Bounty Hunter up only because when I think of incredible barbecue it is the first place my head goes…oh so vivid are the glorious memories of sticky ribs, pulled pork and countless black & tan’s.

Read More

A tractor ride is one sure way into this girl’s heart…I swoon every damn time. It really is embarrassing- me weak at the knees over a piece of farm equipment. Jubilee Farm, is in this right, quite the Casanova…literally and figuratively sweeping me off my feet within the first 5 minutes of stepping onto the property. Its another oddly warm summer day in the Northwest, I get to the farm and begin to wander the grounds in search of Wendy or Erick Haakenson, the owners. I don’t get far before hearing a low, deep rumble and turn in time to witness a yellow tractor materialize from behind a very large barn. It gradually trudges toward me as I shield my eyes from the bright sun light…I’m trying to make out a face, identify the person a top the machine. All I see is a straw hat initially…then the tractor is practically on me, the engine cut.

Read More

Random weeknight, dinner down, the sun is in quick retreat. We leash the pup and set out for Fainting Goat in Wallingford. Organic and local gelato has finally come to Seattle…I am drawn like a kitten to milk. I love gelato…more than plain ol’ ice cream, more than chocolate cake or sugar donuts. It is the one and only sweet I crave on a regular basis. Being discriminate about food sources, at times, renders me shit out of luck. If I wanted ice cream I could go to Molly Moon’s, if I wanted pastry there are a number of options around town but if I wanted gelato that was just too damn bad. One can imagine my hysterical delight at finding that my dream of quality gelato had at last come true…bonus being that the place is a short walking distance from my home.

Read More

Allow me to begin by saying that I have never been a fan of Mercer Island. Admittedly, I have little ground on which to pass judgment…I have biases based solely on preconceived notions- some I have found to be true, others very much false. Its a wealthy area- there is no shortage of luxury cars or designer handbags, the lawns resemble golf courses and the homes boast the square footage of shopping malls. I have always firmly believed that there is nothing for me here… I don’t care for these things, these lifestyles seem excessive. Personally, I like the grit, the scale, and most of all the diversity of Seattle. That being said..I will grudgingly admit that I have had a little bit of a change of heart. I will return to Mercer Island- regularly even (writing that is unreal) because one thing Mercer Island does have is spectacular food. Namely, it has Bennetts Pure Food Bistro.

Read More

Brad Gillis is young. Both him and his business partner Ben Friedman are a fresh faced 23 years old. “Business partner” and “23 years old” are rarely found in a sentence I would recognize, mind you. When I was 23 I’m pretty sure I was traveling like a hobo and drinking too much- my goals sat along the lines of remembering who’s bed I was waking up in on any given morning. Ah…those were the days. Well, while I enjoyed a lovely mix of alcohol, adventure and loose women- Brad and Ben opted to set about using their energy in a more productive manner. Together, they created a well sourced sandwich shop that satiates not only a hungry belly but also inspires positive change in food.

Read More

Eat Local caters to folks that don’t want to cook (whether that be out of laziness or inability). Here you can buy pre-made meals prepared with wholesome local ingredients. Its like having a personal chef that scours the farmers markets during the week then loads up your freezer with delicious ready to heat and eat entrees. Really, its absolute convenience without a hint of compromise- no concessions are made on quality ingredients nor on the spectacular dishes that contain them.

Read More

Passionate and proactive, Dylan and Heidi Stockman’s energy radiates and ricochets about the small storefront that is Green Go Food. This little haven of fantastically sourced foods, however, was not their original plan. Nope. They wanted a taco truck- get it? “Green Go”- green food to go? Alas, that was not in the cards. As fate would have it, the hand they were dealt included a sedentary location- a storefront. Patty Pans owner was ready to move into a larger kitchen and well…the Stockman’s needed a kitchen. So it goes, Patty Pan moved out, Green Go moved on in. At that point the couple was selling their delicious organic burgers etc. at local farmers markets but now with an actual location they had a restaurant on their hands. And a damn fine little restaurant it is.

Read More

There were large communal meals and long days outdoors. We worked shoulder to shoulder, lost in conversation or silent, heavily focused on the task at hand. The evenings were collaborative efforts food-wise, the tiny farmhouse kitchen crowded- dirt stained hands all contributing to a lofty meal…the smell of garlic, peanut butter, tamari, the sizzle of freshly plucked vegetables hitting a hot pan. Music, a solo guitar perhaps joined by a fiddle or two- an impromptu lullaby to lull the sun further below the horizon. All of us up to our wrists in dinner, forks or utensils never having been part of the equation to begin with. My skin was tanned under a dense layer of filth, my hands gnarly, my muscles strong and most importantly- my head was so, so quiet.

Read More

“I just don’t want to screw this up.” We were walking a dirt road on the outskirts of the property, slowly making our way to Tom’s favorite apple tree when he said this. I recognize that moment as the point in my visit where my perception was reset. This man wasn’t just a simple farmer, this was someone acting on a desire to make things right-to be the change we all want to see more of. Instead of making excuses and talking the talk, here was Tom indeed living the dream. Taking in the astounding beauty that is (and surrounds) Woolley Farms I understand his desire to protect it and how waking up to this view everyday is motivation enough to do so.

Read More