Monthly Archives: October 2013

Drinks, Restaurant

Brunch at RockCreek and a Tip on Vif

I’ve never been a big brunch-goer. Some might argue that I’m anti-social, but the big issue is that I don’t like to wait in line for batter-based dishes that I can easily make at home.

So the first thing that makes the new RockCreek restaurant pretty rock solid is the current lack of wait-time for brunch. Quick seating may be due to newness or location or both, but who’s complaining? During a recent Sunday prime hour, my group got a table immediately, and the dining room only got emptier as the brunch hours wore on. This will likely change as the word gets out.

I also recommend RockCreek for the quality of the brunch dishes. Eric Donnelly departed Toulouse Petit to open a restaurant that features global, sustainable seafood. The current dinner menu includes dishes with the likes of razor clams, sand dabs, and sardines. The brunch menu isn’t quite as diverse as I’d like—there are mostly egg dishes on offer, along with oyster stew and shrimp and grits in the “also” section (the other two “also” items are like sides, and could move to starters), and pancakes that seem out of place in the “starter” section. But there are a fair number of seafood dishes that suit the restaurant’s “seafood & spirits” slogan, and I was pleased with the plates I tried.

Root vegetable and beet hash, with poached hen eggs and broken beet vinaigrette (pictured above) was perhaps my favorite dish. It’s an unconventional choice for me, as it doesn’t contain any meat, but the earthy flavors were fine and I enjoyed the beet-flavored vinaigrette that pulled the dish together.

I also enjoyed the Dungeness crab chili relleno with bright tomatillo salsa, cool radish, herb salad, and soft scrambled egg. The relleno has the right level of heat, enough to challenge a chili pepper novice, and there is a decent amount of Dungeness crab. At the highest price point on the brunch menu ($18), the dish was a fulfilling fusion of northwest and southwest.

Also from the seafood department came the bacon and oyster benedict with brioche and fingerling potatoes. The oysters are deep fried and delicious. Bacon adds its fatty goodness, and the brioche soaks up all the creamy Hollandaise sauce.

For dessert, you can’t go wrong with an order of caramelized apple and ricotta beignets with vanilla bean anglaise and caramel. Dusted with powdered sugar, it a perfect plate to share. Then again, this is listed as a starter, so your dilemma might be whether to wait on this for dessert, or to order as a sweet start to your meal.

RockCreek’s location makes for an opportunity to linger longer in Fremont. Across the street is Vif, situated in the former Herfy’s space. The cafe is a bit fishbowl-like with its glass walls, but that means it’s bright and airy inside. Your decision-making here is coffee or wine; depending on the time of day (or your mood), you can enjoy either, or, hey, stay for both. (You can also buy bottled wine to go.) Start with a pour-over from Olympia Coffee Roasting Company, done right in a Kalita Wave cone, or try the house-made chai, with an option of almond milk and a little date sweetener. Then move on to one of the carefully curated wines. Should you still be hungry, there are baked goods, including an apricot rugelach based on a recipe from the baker’s mother.

Rock Creek is open everyday at 4, except for Saturday and Sunday brunch when brunch starts at 9.

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Arts & Entertainment, Music

Mandolin Maestro Chris Thile Celebrates Bach at UW

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Chris Thile (Photo: Brantley Gutierrez)

Chris Thile was born to play the mandolin. The 32-year-old musician, composer, and arranger grew up steeped in bluegrass and American folk traditions, beginning his career with acclaimed trio Nickel Creek at the tender age of eight. Since then, Thile has brought the mandolin’s gentle twang to musical projects that crisscross genres, connecting his bluegrass roots with jazz, rock, and most recently, the classical music of J.S. Bach. On his bold new recording, Bach: Sonatas and Partitas, Vol. 1, Thile tackles the composer’s most challenging repertoire for solo violin, re-imagining the time-honored works on the mandolin.

On Tuesday, Thile kicked off the album tour for Sonatas and Partitas with a solo recital hosted by the UW World Series, bringing a unique mix of Bach, bluegrass, and original compositions to the stage at the UW’s Meany Hall. A consummate entertainer with a laid-back, goofy stage presence, Thile easily charmed the crowd of college students, bluegrass fans, and classical music buffs that filled the auditorium. “Welcome to the first night of Bach-toberfest!” he exclaimed with a smile before tucking into an elegant rendition of the Adagio movement from Bach’s Violin Sonata No. 1 in G minor. When played on the mandolin, the slow and graceful work showcases the instrument’s capacity for light, airy tones reminiscent of a lute.

The last notes of the Adagio barely had time to fade before Thile blasted off into the country music realm, jumping straight into the brash vocal introduction for the Louvin Brothers’ “Broad Minded.” The abrupt transition set the tone for the rest of the program, which interspersed movements from Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas with folk songs, original compositions, and even a Fiona Apple cover. Though all this genre-jumping might give purists pause, Tuesday’s audience embraced the fun, diverse program, singing along to bluegrass favorite “Rabbit on a Log” but also showering Thile with well-deserved cheers after his performance of the complete Partita No. 1 in B minor.

For a musician with strong roots in bluegrass, embarking on an exploration of Bach is a courageous, challenging move. Though Thile’s approach to Bach is far from traditional, his interpretations are convincing and filled with reverence for Bach’s genius as both a composer and improviser. “This record to me is not about this iconic violin music played on the mandolin — like, ‘Oh boy, what fun, he’s playing a weird instrument!'” Thile said. “It’s about Bach being one of the greatest musicians of all time, the solo violin music being some of his best work, and the mandolin having the potential to cast it in a new and hopefully interesting light.”

In a way, Thile and Bach have much in common. A skilled composer and improviser in his own right, it’s easy to see how Thile draws inspiration from Bach’s writing, especially when he’s tearing into rapid-fire passages in a Bach Corrente movement with the same joyful abandon that he tackles a blazing bluegrass solo. Other parallels began to emerge over the course of Tuesday’s concert, particularly shared connections to dance traditions. Movements from Bach’s Partitas follow the strict form and structure of the minuet, sarabande, gigue, and other popular social dances of the day. Similarly, bluegrass and country songs often go hand in hand with dancing.

Though lively movements like the Tempo di Borea from Partita No. 1 virtually danced out of Thile’s mandolin, some of Bach’s slower movements didn’t hold up as well during the translation from violin. Partita No. 1’s Allemanda movement felt plodding at times, weighed down by passage upon passage of plucked eighth notes. However, awkward moments like these were far outnumbered and outweighed by sparkling gems that shone in a new light when played on the mandolin. In particular, Thile’s performance of the fugue movement from the Sonata No. 1 in G Minor held the audience spellbound with a combination of eloquent musical storytelling and breathtaking technical mastery.

If Tuesday’s performance is any indication, Thile is well on his way to expanding our perspectives on Bach while also pushing the boundaries of the mandolin. No matter what he’s playing, Thile makes the instrument sing, his nimble fingers plucking out impossibly complex patterns while his wiry frame grooves along with the music. On Tuesday, it was a joy to watch him explore the potential of the mandolin through such a huge variety of repertoire. Though Bach-toberfest is ostensibly about Thile’s relationship with Bach, it also tells an parallel tale of his love for his instrument.

Encore! For more like this, connect with us on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Cheers.

Arts & Entertainment, Film & TV

Halloween Starts Early at the Grand Illusion This Weekend

It’s October, the month when even dilettantes and fair-weather fiends dip their sensitive tootsies into the well of horror. But if you’ve got the guts (literally and metaphorically), the Grand Illusion Cinema begins their headlong, month-long march to Halloween with a bloody bang tomorrow night.

Seattle’s most venerable indie theater turns into the seediest grindhouse this side of 42nd Street with The Portland Grindhouse Film Festival’s Night of Exploitation Mayhem, hosted by Dan Halligan, programmer and mastermind at Portland’s Hollywood Theatre. Halligan’s more than earned his stripes as a preacher on the schlock cinema pulpit: He’s unspooled horror and exploitation movies of every stripe at the Hollywood for years, and his previous Grindhouse Trailer Spectacular screenings have broiled brains here and in Portland for the last half-decade. Given Halligan’s rep, this latest Grindhouse Trailer Spectacular should be astonishing.

The promos on display will draw from the 1970s and ‘80s, a wild and woolly time when trash-film merchants pushed the envelope ‘til it split. Back then, the boundaries of good taste took an extended backseat to psychotic hillbillies, monsters, pimps, vengeful cops, raw action, cannibals, kung fu battles royale, lurid sex, stomach-lurching violence, and overbaked insanity. The best coming-attractions trailers of the era were speedballs of sensationalism that rivaled a ride on the most rickety and dangerous rollercoaster, so expect one heck of a trip.

The 65-minute trailer loop should provide an effective warm-up for The Gates of Hell, the 1980 shocker that follows. Gates begins with a priest committing suicide in the town of Dunwich, opening up a portal to (you guessed it) Hell. That act provides a springboard for all manner of mayhem, including but not restricted to death by power drill and skull-splitting, scabby-faced zombies, and a scene in which the phrase “Irritable Bowel Syndrome” takes on penultimate meaning.

Italian splatter auteur Lucio Fulci built an enduring cult with horror movies that combined spooky atmosphere, wild-eyed absurdity and over-the-top gore. Like most of Fulci’s output, The Gates of Hell’s liabilities — stilted dubbed dialogue, lapses in logic, an utter dearth of restraint — wind up being warped strengths that add to the nightmarish quality of the end product. It’s the crude horror-movie equivalent of a straight shot of industrial-strength bootleg moonshine. If you can endure it, most modern fright flicks will seem like foofy designer cocktails in comparison.

Arts & Entertainment, Theatre

Solid Performance, Predictable Story: Broke-ology at Seattle Public Theatre

Photo by Paul Bestock

Ever since the economic decline (you know, the one that’s going for so long that we’re kind of numb to it except we realize that we have to buy the value pack of chicken ramen instead of real chicken), theaters have been pushing the financial sufferings of families. Insert something clever about having to pay $60 for tickets to see a play about economic hardships here. The commonality between these shows — aside from the theme of a family that suffers together sticks together — has been the sheer dominance of the white, middle class family, economic struggle seemingly erasing any POC experience from our stages. Broke-ology by Nathan Louis Jackson at Seattle Public Theatre (through October 20; tickets) at least shakes up our theatrical routine by showing a family of color, though there’s nothing new added to the already persistent economic family hardship storyline.

Expertly directed by (oh-my-god-I-have-such-a-crush-on-you-even-though-I-know-you’re-way-out-of-my-league) Valerie Curtis Newton, Broke-ology centers on the King family. An aging, sickly patriarch (Troy Allen Johnson) steers us through grief, senility, and a house that no one wanted to stay in forever. While the themes may be more in line with economic failure, the meat of the play is what to do with a forgetful, dying father. Though this storyline shows some promise, from there we walk the well-trod path of a solid, though predictable, production.

As any true disappointment knows, in practically every family (especially in dramatic representation) there’s a college kid (“good” son), and a not bad, but not as well off “troubled” son.  In this case our troubled son, Ennis (Corey Spruill), is working a crappy food service job and has a baby on the way. Also typical of this storyline, the “good” son, Malcolm (Tyler Trerise)  has a choice afforded to him because he graduated college, while the troubled kid is stuck. Broke-ology tries to flip this idea by making the argument that Malcolm is stuck too, but in reality we know that having choices, no matter how difficult, is not the same as having none. At the epicenter is a dying father the brothers are trying to keep alive while knowing neither can afford to act as caretaker for him.

The cast is solid, with Spruill at the helm keeping the energy and pace up (scenes he’s not in tend to drag). And Johnson has some truly wonderful moments as he contemplates his own future in the home he’s made. However, what hurts the pace of this production more than anything is the writing of a character we neither need, nor that serves the story — Sonia King, the dead wife and mother, played by Amber Wolfe Wollam. Though I hate advocating the deletion of a female character, and Wollam plays her well, there is no need to have the mother “haunt” Allen physically. Her presence only seems an attempt to force more of an emotional bond with the family — an unnecessary bond  to form, since there is never any question about the love the sons have for each other and their father.

Further, as the play progresses, she becomes only a symbol of Allen’s decaying mind, rather than a character of substance actually required to tell the story. (Though problematic and unnecessary, the beautifully staged time transition from before any children are born to the much later time post-mother’s death communicates in an instant the loss of a parent and loved one. Credit due to Wollam, Johnson, and Newton on that lovely bit of storytelling.)

So what do we have? It’s another solid play about family economics, but one that has yet to actually provide new information about the struggle to carry on through difficulty. This isn’t just a problem with Broke-ology, it’s a problem with all the plays written during and post-economic collapse that try to humanize and characterize our day-to-day difficulty but fail to say anything other than we’re still floating; we’ll carry on. Great. But can the next play Seattle produces about this topic have more bite, especially when you have stellar cast and director?

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News

Westland Distillery Takes Single Malt Whiskey to a New Level

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Westland Distillery officially opens October 27, where they will debut their flagship label Westland American Single Malt Whiskey. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Westland's Steve Hawley standing in what is now the largest distillery west of the Mississippi. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Deacon Seat: The single malt whiskey that started it all for Westland, and the label being tasted through October. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

The lobby at Westland Distillery. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

The tasting wheel. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Co-founder and head distiller Matt Hofmann. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

10,000 liter silos fermenting the wash. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Where grain coverts into sugars, clarifying the liquid to extract flavor. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Into the belly of the yeast. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Co-founder Emerson Lamb explains the process in the still room. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Pot stills hail from the last manufacturer of large copper pot stills, Vendome Copper and Brass Works Inc. from Louisville, KY. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Baby Blue, The Spirit Sage, and Big Red. Somewhere Willy Wonka is drooling. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

Most of Westland's casks are from the home of Buffalo Trace Bourbon, but also used are Spanish cherry casks, of which 100-150 are imported per year. "We know where our casks come from." Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

The still room where tastes are tempered via The Spirit Sage and pot stills. Photos via Curtis Simpson IV.

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When you think single malt whiskey, you might first think of something to the tune of tartan kilts, or whiskey the way the Scots make it. But give Seattle native Westland Distillery‘s aged and local whiskey a few swills, allow it the space to round out its appreciating flavors, and pretty soon you’ll be singing the praises of American single malt. Westland has been operating for the past three years in South Park, but their new location in SoDo — complete with a sleek, wood-paneled tasting room that officially opens in three weeks — is not only ostensibly the largest distillery west of the Mississippi, it also makes sipping that whiskey absolutely bitching.

With drinks in tow and catering by City Catering Company, the owners of Westland took The SunBreak through the 13,000 square foot SoDo location and the entire distillation process Tuesday night. Brace yourselves, whiskey lovers, Westland knows brown liquor.

Unlike in Scotland, in America there aren’t specific laws that dictate the regulations of distilling single malt whiskey. (Scottish regulations mean that it must be 100 percent malted barley, distilled in a pot still, and aged 3 years in oaken casks.) However, Westland appears to be adhering exactly to those Scottish regulations of traditional distilling, while giving it a modern American twist by aging in new oak casks — which is how bourbon is aged. From a maturation standpoint, it not only develops differently, it’s totally new world, according to co-founder Emerson Lamb.

Like bourbon, this whiskey has a big, big personality. It’s has all the traditionality of a complex and developing scotch where you get spice and yeast on the first nose; it goes down smooth, but then burns with flavor and lingers on your hard palate as it continues to speak. But the new oak casks make it fully American, and cause you to take a second sniff because what is that? vanilla? orange marmalade?

Head distiller and co-founder Matt Hofmann says that the Brewer’s yeast (fruit-ifying) and the five different types of malted barley they use (Munich, extra special, brown, pale chocolate, and Washington select) bring out the complexity, but the maturation brings out the sweetness. In fact, he says that after about 15 minutes, the notes of waffle cone start to come out.

Flavors are tweaked and raised in a hot, sticky room that could only be described as a Willy Wonka drunken miracle. Two enormous and very pear-shaped copper pots — named Big Red and Baby Blue — sit on either side of a machine called The Spirit Sage, an op board where the distiller gets a chance to practice his “science and art,” according to Lamb. It’s here that they sequester the bad scents (which are then sold as cleaning agents) through the pots that come from the last manufacturers of large copper pot stills in the world, Vendome Copper and Brass Works Inc., from Louisville, KY.

Right now, Westland is serving and selling Deacon Seat, their 3-year-old American single malt whiskey made from 100% malted barley, which they will continue to sell alone until they release their flagship label: Westland American Single Malt Whiskey. And, with 90% of their barley hailing from Washington, it’s local too. “We wanted to do this in a place that was 55 degrees and raining,” Lamb says.

Westland is giving out tours and tastes until Oct 27 by reservation, and everything else you need to know can be found on their website.

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Arts & Entertainment, Music

Burger Records Goes to Seattle with a Rocking Burgerama

together PANGEA.
together PANGEA.
Gap Dream.
Gap Dream.
Cosmonauts.
Cosmonauts.
The Growlers.
The Growlers.

Shana Cleveland and Abbey Blackwell of La Luz. (Photo: Tony Kay)

(Photo: Tony Kay)

together PANGEA: Sorta batshit crazy, in a good way. (Photo: Tony Kay)

Danny Bengston of together PANGEA. (Photo: Tony Kay)

Just another psychedelic prog rock band with a laptop backbeat: Gap Dream at Neumos. (Photo: Tony Kay)

(Photo: Tony Kay)

Cosmonauts, on a dark and swirly trip. (Photo: Tony Kay)

Cosmonauts at Neumos. (Photo: Tony Kay)

The Growers kick back at Neumos. (Photo: Tony Kay)

Brooks Nielsen of The Growlers. (Photo: Tony Kay)

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All-Ages shows always inspire equal parts discomfort and inspiration in me.

For anyone over the age of 30 (or, God forbid, over the age of 40 and graying at the temples to boot), being surrounded at a music venue by youngsters years away from their first legal beer can’t help but make you feel like an alien, surrounded by a lot of curious (and frequently suspicious) onlookers.

Then again, seeing said kids throwing themselves into an evening of rip-roaring garage-rock energy has a way of warming one’s heart. Such was the case with Burger Records‘ Burgerama Caravan of Stars tour, which buzzed into Neumos the week before last.

A stacked bill of no less than seven bands, all currently or formerly flying the Burger flag, played. Each act drew from retro elements — neo-psychedelia, garage rock, snotty punk, twangy surf — then spit those influences out with the ragged, anti-hipster energy that only youth can bestow.

I missed openers Colleen Green and The Memories (a guy’s gotta eat, y’know), making it in just in time to see Seattle quartet La Luz blast off. Their swaggering, drop-dead cool mix of girl-group harmonizing and stinging surf guitars blew me away during their August 2013 Doe Bay Fest set, and big surprise, they once again ruled. In just the last two months they’ve grown in confidence, with guitarist/lead singer Shana Cleveland firing off Duane-Eddy-worthy licks with playful toughness.

Such composure knew no place in the world of together PANGEA, a California band who bashed out a set so energetic it bordered on spastic. Frontman/guitarist/songwriter William Keegan emerged muttering and yelping from an obsessive place somewhere between scraping lo-fi garage rock and restlessly twitchy punk, frequently splitting the air with screams that put his sanity into question. Bassist Danny Bengston, guitarist Cory Hanson, and drummer Erik Jiminez pushed Keegan’s funny and hooky songs along with ferocious abandon. If you’re looking for an exhilarating schoolyard brawl between The Black Lips, The Ramones, and Violent Femmes, look no further.

I’m not sure what to make of Gap Dream, but whatever they were, they sounded good. The three-piece sported a combination of sounds that shouldn’t have worked together, but did. Almost prog-rock keyboards, spacy guitars, primitive pop melodies, and laptop-generated percussion swirled together to create a style that was alternately rinky-dink, epic, and strangely catchy as all get out.

Orange County combo Cosmonauts followed up with a throbbing, guitar-driven drone that came from a darker corner, with a heavy, pile-driving backbeat and songs that spattered like the Jesus and Mary Chain on one doozy of an acid trip. Costa Mesa band The Growlers, meantime, finished out the night with a set of surf-tinged tunes that loped along with a stoner’s easygoing affability. Singer Brooks Nielsen made a funny, self-deprecating frontman (“We totally butchered that song, and you didn’t even notice,” he said with bemused amusement after the band kicked through their opening number), and while his band didn’t quite launch me into the stratosphere, their ambling and deceptively upbeat tunes sent the all-ages crowd into a bouncing, dancing frenzy. Ah, youth.