Gastrolust

The International District’s Bush Garden, approaching its sixtieth birthday, has a storied past that includes celebrity visits and sukiyaki dinners. Unfortunately, the restaurant is in decline, bolstered by karaoke nights and liquor sales more than its cuisine–which is nothing to write home about. Still, settle into a tatami room with a group of friends, and you can almost feel what the good old days must have been like.

The menu boasts “traditional and nouveau Japanese cuisine,” but after all these years, there’s nothing really nouveau unless you’ve come out of a cave and count a couple of sushi rolls or the Hershey’s chocolate sundae. What you can find are comforting favorites like chicken karaage, gyoza, donburi rice bowls, and a couple of teriyaki-flavored preparations. One is ebi bacon maki: skewered prawns wrapped in bacon and grilled with teriyaki sauce.

So what does Bush Garden’s ebi bacon maki teach us about sex?

It’s all about the dilemma of keeping kosher.

As it’s just prior to Passover, I can tell you that there’s actually a book called Kosher Sex, authored by Shmuley Boteach. Boteach is a rabbi who more recently wrote Kosher Sutra and Kosher Adultery, which is subtitled “Seduce and Sin with Your Spouse.” The guy’s no prude. Kosher Adultery, for example, encourages couples to integrate principles of adultery into their bedrooms to spice up their sex lives. For example, wives can become their husbands’ private webcam girls, while husbands can lay lustful eyes on their wives-turned-mistresses. I don’t agree with all of the philosophy, though I do like the notion of helping committed couples reignite the flame of forgotten passion.

Sadly, though, Boteach’s sex-positive approach pertains only to married, heterosexual couples.

There’s even a kosher sex toys website with a stated mission to “provide married adults with products that can help enhance their intimate moments without involving crude or indecent pictures or text.” There are no models or even mannequins wearing lingerie (actually, the lingerie link only shows pictures of stiletto boots and spike heel sandals), as the owners “believe that only two people belong in the bedroom-and bringing pictures of others in can only harm a marriage.” The site defines kosher sex as “the promotion of meaningful sexual acts that mold two people into one spiritual flesh.”

Sex and spirituality can certainly be connected, but I believe we all choose how “orthodox” we want to be. When I worked for Planned Parenthood, I did an informal survey and found that the vast majority of the workers were Catholic. (Jews were second.) These women–I was about the only man–embraced their Catholicism, but rejected what they considered regressive policies related to gender and sexual rights.

As for keeping kosher, I think about a bottle of Baconlube that the guys from J&D’s (local makers of Bacon Salt and Baconnaise) sent me. The bad news: Despite sharing in our society’s bacon-loving frenzy, I find the smell and texture too off-putting for the bedroom. The good news: For those interested, there is no actual pork in any of the J&D’s products. With Baconlube, you can have a certifiably kosher sexual experience.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 5, 2012.

Dish: Drunken Mushrooms
Place: Araya’s Vegetarian Place, University District
Price: $13.95

On the plate: Per the menu: “Classic Thai spicy wide rice noodles stir-fried in garlic & chili with veggies beef, Portabello and other mushrooms.” The other mushrooms are shiitake and white button mushrooms, and there’s also red and green bell pepper, asparagus, and fried Thai basil.

Supporting cast/What to do: You’ll be asked how spicy you want the dish, but the dishes are less spicy than promised. This surprised me, since Araya’s was features on Food Network’s Heat Seekers as a “Thai restaurant with dishes that bring all comers to their knees.” Be prepared, then, to request the special plate with spoons of spices so that you can raise the roof on the heat.

Noodling around: Drunken mushrooms features one of my favorite noodles: wide rice noodles. They’re fresh and essentially flash-cooked in the wok to warm them through, with their wideness keeping them a prominent part of the dish. Their size enables them to absorb flavors and carry the sauce–and they still have the chew that sometimes gets lost in thinner noodles.

In this preparation, mushrooms are a key to the flavor. As Araya’s is a vegetarian restaurant, recipes are non-dairy, non-egg, and non-fish sauce. Mushroom sauce substitutes for fish sauce, though this dish also uses sweet soy sauce to impart flavor. Fried Thai basil is nice touch, adding both flavor and texture. And it’s nicely plated, with asparagus artfully arranged.

I was told that “veggies beef” is, as you may have guessed, “fake veggie meat.” I’ve never been a big fan of just throwing this in a dish, but understand if it’s a protein source and an alternative texture.

My only disappointment, as mentioned above, was the spice level. “Mortar-and-pestled” chili peppers (and garlic) should have provided powerful heat, as shown in the Heat Seekers segment. I much prefer to have the chilis cooked into the dish than having to add it in myself–especially if I’ve requested a high spice level.

If you want more: There are many appetizers, but especially if you have company, I recommend the avocado curry ($13.95). I cook a lot of Thai curry, but this is the first time I’ve had it with avocado–and I was pleasantly surprised how well it worked in the dish. This is a green curry, in which you’ll find both soft and fried tofu, more of that veggie beef, bell peppers, Thai basil, and something called “bean composition,” which is apparently made from variations of soy bean.

Be aware/beware: I ended up here after trying to get into OK Noodles, which was surprisingly closed on a Friday night. (Many others encountered a closed restaurant recently, but it’s reopened with new owners, and I featured it in last week’s Mein Man.) So, for those wondering, this is how I found myself in a vegetarian restaurant. I was skeptical at first, but ultimately pleased with the quality and creativity. Araya’s has a way with cooking vegetables. Now, if they’d just boost those spice levels…

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 2, 2012.

As we finish the month of March, I’m finishing my series of sexy small treats, which has turned out to be quite international. Recall that Sexy Feast sampled dill scones from Macrina Bakery, sponge cake from Dim Sum King, and sakura mochi from Umai Do. Now I turn to a classic treat: the croissant. As mentioned last column, I was lucky to travel to Paris last year where I did a tour of patisseries for comparative croissant tasting. Most were amazing; Ble Sucre’s was my favorite.

With that experience in mind and a new point of comparison, I’ve been eager to revisit some of my favorite bakeries in Seattle to see how croissants here stack up to their Parisian brethren. More on that in the coming weeks, but for now I bring you La Rêve Bakery’s croissant in Queen Anne. While not quite the quality I experienced in Paris, it was still a joy to eat.

So what does La Rêve’s croissant teach us about sex?

It’s all about how the French enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

In America (and elsewhere in the world), we tend to “doctor up” our croissants, filling them with ham and cheese, a la sandwiches, or serving them with spreads of butter, jam or Nutella. But when croissants are as good as they are in France (and the occasional Seattle bakery), you don’t need to add anything. Just enjoy the croissant for what it is–a bite into the crisp, golden, flaky crust revealing a soft, layered interior filled with delicious buttery flavor you want to experience on its own. The croissant is pleasure in and of itself.

It’s the same with sex. The French enjoy it, relish in it. Hey…they’re the ones who elevated the kiss to its own national brand.

The French are not as uptight about sex as Americans are. For example, French leaders can be unmarried, and the married ones can have mistresses without much fuss. (Okay, maybe French society is still a little too chauvinistic, as the allegations against former IMF director Dominique Strauss-Kahn demonstrated.)

But there’s much to envy about France’s more relaxed attitude about sex. The French stay active longer, acknowledging that sex is a life-long pursuit that’s not reserved just for the young and the beautiful.

And they’re more willing to study sex than we are. Forget about funding for major studies here. There’s too much religious and political opposition to allow that to happen. Whereas across the Atlantic, France’s National Research Agency on AIDS (???) just released a national “Study of Sexuality in France.” The study revealed that both men and women are enjoying more varied and frequent sex–with an increased number of partners over the lifetime. Interestingly, women are closing the gap on men in terms of number of partners, age of first intercourse, and variety of sexual acts.

Simply put, in France, sex is a pleasure as simple as a plain croissant.

(This isn’t to say that the French don’t like to dress things up. Think lingerie. One study showed that French women spend twenty percent of their clothing budget on it. But doesn’t that reinforce the inherent sense of joy the French feel about sex?)

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 29, 2012.

Dish: Boat Noodle Soup
Place: OK Noodles, University District
Price: $6.78

In the bowl: Per the menu: “Small rice noodles, bean sprouts, spinach.” “Small” is written in because “Wide” is crossed out. Beef is the logical choice with boat noodle soup, so I went with that, though chicken, soy chicken, soy beef, and tofu are available for the same price, while shrimp and soy shrimp raise the price to $7.89.

Supporting cast/What to do: This soup comes spicy, but as always, you can ask for extra heat in the way of Sriracha or chili flakes/oil. Stir to mix the ingredients and chili, then eat with a cooling beverage at the ready.

Noodling around: I’ve been looking for authentic boat noodles in Seattle, most recently at Thai Palms. Their version was bland. As I’d heard good things about OK Noodles, I had high expectations that this would be the place. Sadly, high expectations often lead to great disappointment.

While this version had good spice level for heat hounds like me, the soup was simply too sour, as if they squeezed too much lime juice into the bowl. The noodles themselves were okay (I prefer wider ones), and although bean sprouts aren’t normally my thing, they did contribute crunch and cooling effect.

Another problem was the meat, which was one-note. Where’s my tripe and tendon and shank and liver? And where’s the blood? The soup suffered without the pork and beef blood that typically adds a mineral taste that I enjoy.

I remain adrift in a boat noodle-less sea in Seattle. My last chance appears to be Noodle Boat in Issaquah, which I included in our just-released Voracious Dining Guide of favorite restaurants for 2012. They have boat noodles on their menu, but again without sign of meat diversity. If Noodle Boat won’t do a special order, I’ll simply have to go back to Sapp Coffee Shop in Los Angeles for their delicious version.

By the way, my dining companion got the White River Noodle, described as “rice (”egg” was crossed out) noodles, hot & sour soup with coconut milk, mushroom, white onion, lemon grass, lime leaves, and cilantro.” This tasted like thick, sweetened coconut milk with the “hot” there, but the “sour” missing. Maybe OK’s cook squeezed my companion’s limes into my bowl by mistake? Or maybe not. Both bowls were unbalanced, consistent with other bad reports I’ve heard of late.

If you want more: For the name alone, you have to go for the “Diet Soft Rolls” ($5.67, standard for all the appetizers–and do you see the theme of sequential, numerical pricing?). A healthy contrast to crisp rolls, these contain “Soy prawn & tofu, rice noodles, lettuce, carrot, basil, cilantro, and green leave” and are “Served with a sweet & spicy sauce.” Did I lose you at “crisp”? If so, one below on the menu is a crispy onion ring which is “deep fired.”

Be aware/beware: This is a funky place with deep red colors and menus stuck inside of album covers–you know, the old vinyl kind. Mine was A Chorus Line. There’s also kitschy art on the walls made from dried noodles. Dry humor, I suppose.

Many people have reported that OK Noodles never seems to be open. I was a victim of this myself. The story, it seems, is that the previous owners recently sold and moved to Olympia where they’re operating another restaurant. The new owners have kept the original menu and are settling in. Slowly.

There were no real servers during my visit, so when the restaurant got slammed, the couple was struggling to keep things moving–cooking and carrying out bowls and plates as quickly as they could prepare them. I expect a few bumps in the road before things smooth out, and will be interested to see what changes they make to OK Noodles, if any. This includes the quest to raise the quality to what I’m told it was before the turnover.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 26, 2012.

There’s been a recent profileration of Japanese pastries and confectionaries in the Seattle area. Fuji Bakery and Café de Lion are garnering rave reviews, with Fresh Flours, Fumie’s Gold, Setsuko Pastry, and Hiroki among others worth exploring. In contrast to Western cakes and candies and such, Japanese varieties are less sweet. And they’re made with incredible care and detail–which is partly why I saw so many Japanese sous chefs working in Parisian bakeries during my trip to France last year.

Umai Do is a new Japanese confectionary shop in the Central District which sells a small selection of tea-accompanying sweets. Last time in, I spotted dorayaki and manj? in the showcase. Much to my surprise, there was also sakura mochi. Especially timely for this cherry blossom season, these are mochi filled with anko (sweet red bean paste) and wrapped in a brined sakura (cherry blossom) leaf. I’ve had much better, as Umai Do’s are small (the sakura leaf shouldn’t completely cover the mochi), short on anko, and a bit gummy, but they’re fun to try and a treat to find.

So what does Umai Do’s sakura mochi teach us about sex?

It’s all about knowing how to handle the first time.

It’s not a stretch to see sakura mochi as metaphor for a female virgin. It’s understandable not to know what to expect or do during the first experience. Will it feel good? How do you handle it? Will anything bleed out?

With sakura mochi, you can peel back the protective leaf, but then you’re missing out on an important part of the experience. First bring the mochi to your noise and enjoy its distinct perfume–very fragrant. Now bring it to your lips, then bite it, gently, and enjoy the salty brininess. Now you’re into the pink–vulnerable, ready, and anticipatory. Once you plunge further in, be prepared for the dark red flow from inside. There’s nothing to be afraid of; on the contrary, this should be a pleasurable experience.

The same with having sexual intercourse for the first time. The woman may be nervous and concerned, so it’s important to take things slowly. She and her partner should be attentive to her pleasure, making sure she’s aroused and therefore lubricating. Prior to penetration, use additional lubrication as necessary. Find a position that’s comfortable. Turn foreplay–kissing, caressing, etc.–into during-play so that it’s not strictly about penetration. For penile-vaginal intercourse, some women find spooning to be the best position.

Whatever you do, breathe, smile, make eye contact, and speak out with your hopes, needs, fears, and desires. Feedback is an important part of the process; good communication shows consideration. Relax as much as possible to enjoy the experience.

Then, as with good sakura mochi, have another.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 22, 2012.

Seattle is teriyaki town, according to a colleague of mine. Teriyaki joints are ubiquitous in this city. Most are Korean-owned, though we can probably attribute the honor of launching the local teriyaki craze to Toshihiro Kasahara. Toshi’s Teriyaki took off, though he retired from the business—until recently.

More on that another time, after I get to Toshi’s new place. Instead, I’m here to report on the surprise cuisine featured at Joy Teriyaki in Lake City. While other teriyaki joints feature Chinese dishes, Korean dishes, and/or sushi rolls on the side, Joy Teriyaki is a unique place to get Mongolian food.

I’m not talking the omnipresent Mongolian beef—though that’s actually on the menu. Nor am I talking Mongolian BBQ. Instead, it’s about real Mongolian cuisine, with ties to both Chinese and Russian cuisine.

Don’t expect spice, as this is far from Sichuanese cuisine. There are no bright red chili peppers floating in the food; in fact, the flavors tend to be pretty bland and the colors quite neutral. When a friend asked if the food is spicy, the cook laughed and said “not at all…we just use some black pepper.” That had me reaching for the Sriracha—after enjoying the dishes with their original intent.

The workers are nice, and eager to educate about Mongolia’s food. Note that the food takes time to prepare, evidence that everything is made-to-order. This is carbo-heavy cuisine, utilizing animal meats and fats, along with dairy. Dumplings and noodles are rather rustic. And you might find some surprises, such as the salty and buttery milk tea.

Oh…you’ll also find sushi rolls (even a bento box), Chinese dishes, and of course teriyaki on the menu. If you try any of those, let me know how they are. For me, the main draw is the Mongolian food—perhaps the only place you’ll find it in the Seattle area.

Buuz ($8.00): Steamed beef dumplings that look like xiao long bao, but don’t have soup inside.

Banshtai tsai ($8.30): A bowl of beef dumplings, smaller than the buuz, cooked in milk tea that’s salty and buttery.

Tsuivan ($8.50): Stew made with simple, hand-shaved noodles and a sprinkling of vegetables.

Khuushuur ($1.80 each): Beef-filled dumplings that look like “fried pancakes”–quite tasty.

Sample of the signs to help you navigate the Mongolian menu. (Pricing and spelling can vary!)

A look at the Mongolian menu.

Dish: Tsuivan
Place: Joy Teriyaki, Lake City
Price: $8.50

On the plate: Per the menu: “Steamed flour noodle dish with beef and veggies.” Or, per the photo in the front window: “Stewing Beef, Salt, Flour Noodles, Garlic Onion, and Black Pepper. MSG and Sugar Free.” Those vegetables include yellow and orange bell peppers, broccoli, and cabbage.

Supporting cast/What to do: Nothing. But by the counter you’ll find Maggi sauce, Sriracha, and other condiments. Keep those in mind for potential use.

Noodling around: It gets cold in Mongolia. Animal meat and fats, along with dairy, are a primary part of Mongolian cuisine. So when I learned that Joy Teriyaki is perhaps the only place in the Seattle area to find Mongolian food, I knew I was in for rustic food featuring lots of carbohydrates and fat.

The tsuivan is a stew made with simple, hand-shaved noodles. For someone who likes long, thick noodles, these are unfortunately in small pieces, perhaps broken during the cooking process. There’s a sprinkling of vegetables included, and beef substitutes for the mutton that you usually find in Mongolian dishes.

The seasoning is very mild, typical of Northern cuisine. It wasn’t long before I started eyeing the condiment cart and squirting Sriracha on the noodles. I can’t say that I loved the tsuivan. They were just so-so, but the workers were nice and also proud of their food, and I do love that there’s the option of Mongolian food in Seattle.

If you want more: Staying with the Mongolian menu, you might get the buuz ($8.00), which will be a plate of ten steamed beef dumplings. They look like xiao long bao, but don’t have soup inside. If you’re more adventurous, order the banshtai tsai ($8.30). This will net you a bowl of beef dumplings, smaller than the buuz, cooked in traditional milk tea. The milk tea, also available from the beverage section of the menu, is salty and buttery and worth a try if you’ve never had it.

Be aware/beware: I arrived right at the Saturday noon opening time, but had to call at 12:15 to get someone to open the door. Even then, the worker asked for fifteen more minutes for preparation. At that point, we just wanted in from the cold rain.

If you order any of the dumplings or the khuushuur (beef-filled dumplings that look like “fried pancakes”), you’ll be told how long they take to prepare. Take that as a good sign that the food is made-to-order.

The menu also includes sushi rolls (even a bento box), Chinese dishes, and of course teriyaki, but the main draw should be the Mongolian food.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 19, 2012.

It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of the Seattle dim sum scene. Quality here pales in comparison to what you’ll find north of the border in Richmond. Going out for dim sum here seems like throwing away good money.

So when I saw the low prices at the International District’s Dim Sum King, I had to do a reconnaissance mission. That was easy, as they’re open daily from seven to seven. With various baked buns at sixty cents, and steamed dumplings and shumai (and chicken feet) at fifty cents, I figured this might be a fair price for ma-ma (so-so) dim sum. As I was about to buy up a couple of egg tarts for afternoon tea, I spotted some sponge cake. I got a massive amount for just one dollar. The cake was light and airy, and like many Asian desserts, not overly sweet.

So what does Dim Sum King’s sponge cake teach us about sex?

It’s about the right to affordable and accessible sponges (and other pleasure-enabling devices).

When the Today contraceptive sponge was pulled off the market in 1994, women in America (including the fictional Elaine Benes in Seinfeld) stocked up on remaining supplies, in many cases hoarding them obsessively. Oh, if that was our only birth control crisis today.

I find it fascinating that so much of the recent political debate has focused on contraception. Look at all the hoopla. Congressman Darrell Issa took us back fifty years, holding a hearing with an all-male panel, lamenting that insurance companies must provide contraceptive coverage. He disallowed even one woman, Georgetown Law Center student Sandra Fluke, from testifying.

When Nancy Pelosi held a separate hearing to give Fluke her opportunity, Rush Limbaugh chastised Fluke as a “slut” and a “prostitute,” adding, “So, Ms. Fluke and the rest of you feminazis, here’s the deal. If we are going to pay for your contraceptives, and thus pay for you to have sex, we want something for it. And I’ll tell you what it is. We want you to post the videos online so we can all watch.” Limbaugh, famous for a Viagra scandal, has been married four times and has no children, prompting comments that he has no problem using birth control–or is sterile or impotent.

The Republican presidential candidates refused to speak out again Limbaugh, reinforcing their anti-birth control stances. Recall that Rick Santorum’s sugar daddy, Foster Friess, suggested that women just put an aspirin between their knees. Meanwhile, Santorum is on record saying that birth control shouldn’t be legal–even for married couples.

These people see sex as for procreation, not recreation. The battle over birth control–including abortion–has always been about something deeper. It’s about sex, and about controlling women’s lives.

How to make these men understand their role in the war on women’s health? Some women are proposing legislation to regulate men’s health. Earlier this week, Ohio state Senator Nita Turner introduced a bill requiring men seeking Viagra or other erectile dysfunction drugs to see a sex therapist, receive a cardiac stress test, and get a notarized affidavit signed by a sexual partner affirming impotency.

But why stop there? If men say sex is for procreation only, I suggest that women simply stop having sex with them. I have a feeling a lot of men will change their minds about this issue quickly.

Like the old saying goes, if men could get pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament. And, I’d add, birth control would come free in cereal boxes.

The simple fact is that birth control saves taxpayers money. Birth control should be affordable and accessible. Protected, we can enjoy the sexual pleasure most of us desire and deserve. We are all sponge-worthy.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 15, 2012.

Dish: Pad Thai
Place: Thai Palms, Rainier Valley
Price: $6.99

On the plate: Per the menu: “Thai noodles mixed with ground peanuts, onion and bean sprouts.” There’s also lots of shredded carrot and purple cabbage, and my meat choice of pork.

Supporting cast/What to do: No supporting cast, and some of the main characters are quite AWOL. You might want to beg for what’s missing, as described below.

Noodling around: Since previous Seattle Weekly restaurant reviewer Jonathan Kauffman tempted me with his review of Thai Palms in 2009, I’ve had it on my to-do list, and only recently I had a chance to try.

I was excited to see boat noodles ($6.99) on the menu, as they’re virtually impossible to find in Seattle. (I’ve had delicious boat noodles in L.A., but here I’ve had to settle for Vietnamese “relative” bun bo hue.) Thai Palms’ menu describes the dish as “Noodles with gently steamed beef, beef ball, tendon and beef tripe in a spicy dark soup.” When the bowl came to table, I immediately knew it was wrong. This was just beef balls and beef chunks in a fairly plain beef soup flavored with fish sauce. Not dark, and certainly not spicy. No tendon. No tripe. No apology. I twice asked the server about the tendon and tripe (he seemed to forget about my first inquiry), and he eventually said that they were simply taken out of the dish.

So…no review of boat noodles this time (there’s another potential place in my sights), so I settled for the pad thai, as the menu screamed “A must try!” and the server said it’s the most popular item at the restaurant. He also promised there was no ketchup used in the preparation.

Turns out there’s also no tamarind, which I don’t understand. Also no salted radish strips or dried shrimp. No tofu. There’s egg, but not the typical omelet strips. Bean sprouts–but cooked in, and not raw. There are some green onions, but very little, and no cilantro or chives for herbal notes. No chilis for heat, and no lime for acidity and sourness. (Isn’t Thai food about the balance of sweet, sour, salty, and spicy?) To top it off, the pork texture was tough. On the positive side, the rice noodles were cooked well, and the cabbage and carrot were colorful.

If you want more: We asked for high spice level on a variety of dishes, but only the papaya salad ($7.99, with “duplicate?” indicated in the online menu) delivered the desired heat. It’s not nearly the best version I’ve had of this dish (the promised dried shrimp were missing), but in contrast to the other dishes we tried, we appreciated its spiciness. Besides, a salad like this, with its crunchiness, is a nice contrast to noodles.

Be aware/beware: …of everything I mentioned above.

The restaurant’s website continues to tout Kauffman’s review, its front page reading: “For delicious Lao dishes, seek out the secret menu at Thai Palms.” I sought it out, and am sad to report that the secret menu no longer exists. The server said the demand wasn’t there, the ingredients wasted, and most of the dishes scrapped–with just a few integrated into the regular menu. What’s left is the hyperbole of pad thai being a “must try” and misinformation about dishes like the boat noodles. Bottom line: a facepalm at Thai Palms.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 12, 2012.

Following January’s four week pizza spotlight, I found it fortuitous to be in New Haven, Connecticut, as it’s famous for its apizza restaurants in the Little Italy section of town. (It truly is “little.”)

Most famous is Frank Pepe Pizzeria Napoletana. Frank Pepe is the original pizza restaurant in New Haven, open since 1925. I believe it is one of the most important/iconic pizza places to visit in the United States. That list would also include Di Fara Pizza in Brooklyn (my favorite), Pizzeria Bianco in Phoenix, and the original Pizzeria Uno (or whatever it’s called these days; the name changes aren’t helping its status) in Chicago. The James Beard Foundation named Frank Pepe an “American Classic” in 1999.

Apizza is thin-crust, similar to Neapolitan but, as Frank Pepe claims, that crust is both crisp and chewy. While most of us are familiar with pies topped with tomato sauce and mozzarella, apizza has grated pecorino romano, but mozzarella is a requested topping—called a “mootz” pie.

I hadn’t been to Frank Pepe in about fifteen years, and was happy to slide into one of the hallmark wooden booths. And I was anxious to see my pizza slide into a white-tiled, coal-fired brick oven. But what to order? Dining solo, I was pleased to know I could customize a small pie, getting half “mootz” and half the infamous white clam.

Frank Pepe used to sell shucked clams outside the restaurant. Clams made their way to the pizza, but that white clam pizza is only available when the clams are fresh. Note that the clams are unshelled, but still fairly moist, and that the only other ingredients are olive oil, grated cheese, oregano, and garlic—LOTS of garlic. Have a toothbrush handy!

The pizza is indeed thin, more cracker-like than my preferred New York style and lacking the same cheesy chewiness, but still delicious with less bubbles and more charring. Eight slices were filling, but I still enjoyed a generous salad on the side. And locally-made Foxon Park soda still in a glass bottle. I’ve sampled birch, cream, and more, and this time went with Gassosa—natural lemon flavor.

Locally, I understand that Tutta Bella just started selling a clam pie (the clams are still in their shells), perhaps an homage to Frank Pepe’s version. While we don’t seem to have an exact New Haven style here in Seattle, I recommend pies at places like Delancey, Via Tribunali, Flying Squirrel, Serious Pie, and Queen Margherita, to name a few. And stay tuned, as soon I’ll be exploring some pizza by the slice to add to my list of suggestions.

A sign of good pizza ahead

The kitchen

Working in the kitchen (note the huge peels and paddles!)

My salad and Foxon Park soda

Finally, there’s the pizza again: half white clam, and half “mootz”