We don’t have a heck of a lot of fast food in Seattle. Most folks around here snub their noses at McDonald’s, Burger King and Arby’s (all for good reason, although I admit I occasionally indulge in the King’s chicken sangwich from time to time when I’m traveling). If we do have a signature “fast food” though, it’s surely teriyaki. Teriyaki joints in the Big Rainy are almost as frequent as coffee shops. I’ve yet to find one that’s spectacular, but most are passable and can provide you with a quick, somewhat healthy lunch. It’s cheap, filling, and satisfying.

But as is the case with most takeout, you can make it better at home. In fact, you can make great chicken teriyaki, and it’s easier than you think.

Start with boneless, skinless chicken thighs. You’ll get the best flavor from the organic, free-range variety. Since this is a very simple dish, the quality of chicken you buy really matters. Grab your favorite teriyaki sauce (I like Yoshida’s Original Gourmet Sauce—stay far away from Kikkoman), and a few cloves of garlic.

Mince the garlic. I like my handy dandy garlic twist. All you do is stick the naked cloves in…

…give it a twirl and your garlic is perfectly minced. Plus, no smelly garlic hands.

Stir the garlic in with the teriyaki sauce.

Rinse and pat dry your chicken thighs, then place them in a large Ziploc bag. Pour in the teriyaki marinade. Refrigerate for at least 6 hours, or up to 24.

When you’re ready to eat, grill the chicken for 3-4 minutes per side over medium heat. I always use thighs when I’m going to grill chicken—the higher fat content means they won’t dry out like breasts do.

Slice. Serve. Savor.

It’s your favorite takeout, but at home. With much more flavor. And probably cheaper. No need to visit that Teriyaki joint at the strip mall again.

-RDG

Chicken Teriyaki  printable yaki

The key to this simple dish is quality chicken and good teriyaki sauce. Buy organic, free-range chicken if you can. Serves 3-4 as a main course. 

Prep Time: 5 minutes       Marinating Time: at least 6 hours     Cook Time: 8 minutes

• 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken thighs
• 2-3 cloves garlic
• 3/4 c teriyaki sauce

So when it came time to host our rehearsal dinner the night before our wedding, we all knew where my vote went. We took our nearest and dearest and out-of-town-est to this cool taco joint on the water for simple eats and yummy margaritas.

Now, a few years later and plus one toddler, we still come here a lot. It’s cute, brightly painted…

…and has a fantastic view of the lake. They also rent kayaks down below, which makes for a perfect weekend date.

But why we really come here isn’t the atmosphere or the boats. It’s the food. And starting with one trip to the salsa bar before your meal, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Everything tastes so remarkably fresh.

Husband orders the Bagre: grilled catfish splashed with salsa and creamy avocado sauce. The fish is tender and flavorful and the sauces are a perfect compliment.

Brother and I order the BBQ pork, which is shredded, slathered in sweet, spicy BBQ sauce and served atop crunchy slaw and soft tortillas.

Dad goes for the Camarones: fresh sauteed shrimp topped with pico and a creamy, sweet curried sauce. I love eating with my family. I get to try bites of everything.

They’ve also got incredible vegetarian options and an entire menu outside of the taco column, if I were ever to stray from my usual and branch out. I’ve also have heard it through the grapevine that their little outside window serves up killer breakfast burritos in the morning.

So now go, Seattlites. Eat tacos. And prosper. It’s just occurred to me that I’ve gotten in the habit of recommending restaurants on mondays. If it’s cool with you, it’s cool with me.

-RDG

P.S. You can check out Agua Verde right here.

Aside: Could we make cars that run strictly off of Mexican food? Seattle hippies, get on it. Obama? Give them money, please. Watch for me next year on Time’s 100 Most Influential People list. Rainy Day Gal, the woman who founded the movement for clean-burning enchiladas.

I am so freaking smart sometimes that I blow my own mind.

This is one of said favorite joints, or it is now. Being the Mexican food junkie that I am, it may surprise many of you that I had never visited here before. According to Mexican food savants, It’s pretty much the end-all, be-all of Seattle’s Mexican food scene.

Deep in the heart of Ballard, surrounded by a slew of bars, pubs, restaurants and shops, Carta (as locals call it) can get crazy-busy—it’s in a happenin ‘hood. But unlike the number of establishments that stay in business around here because of frat boys and friday nights, it’s here for exactly what it promises: southern Mexican cuisine. And it does a damn good job at it.

I didn’t intend to order the halibut tacos when I dreamed up a trip to this place. In fact, it’s really the last thing that I would order to judge a Mexican restaurant. But when I read the little blurb on the menu that described tender grilled fish topped with fresh pico and a sweet, spicy chipotle sauce, I knew they had to be mine.

The halibut itself was truly the highlight—incredibly fresh and not over-seasoned, not fried and not disguised in a tartar-esque sauce. Simply grilled, served on fresh tortillas with a sweet, tangy sauce. This is how fish tacos should always be. Always. Do we need another movement here? I will call this one, “The Movement for Delicious, Non-Fried Fish Tacos.”

My brother, who works in the area and was able to join us for lunch, went with the Molotes: a sausage and potato blend wrapped in tortilla and fried, topped with house made mole, hot sauce and guac. I’m not usually one for two starches in one dish (potato plus tortilla, in this case), but I thought that the filling was nicely complimented by the fresh corn taste of the tortilla breading. And the mole sauce? Oh my. It was richer and more intensely flavored than any other mole I have ever tried. I could actually taste the chocolate and it gave the sauce a beautifully rounded flavor, as opposed to chain restaurant mole that tastes more like watered down beans mixed with cocoa powder.

Let the “Movement for Exceptional Mole Sauce and Riddance of Bean-Flavored Mole Impostors” begin. Sign my petition at the bottom of the page.

Husband chose the Tacos Enchilados: mini chicken enchiladas fried and topped with that gorgeous mole sauce and queso fresco. Very tasty and not overly-stuffed. Light, crisp, and covered in that addictive spicy chocolate sauce.

I’m all out of creative movement names. Just eat these dang things. It will change your life.

And little bear? She happily noshed on little bites of everything we were having, plus one of mom’s makeup brushes swiped from a bathroom drawer at home. She’s so damn cute she won’t ever need that makeup stuff.

But in the spirit of full disclosure, I’ll tell ya that she dropped my favorite makeup brush in a pile of cigarette butts as we were walking down the street after lunch. I considered replacing it, remembered that it cost $30, and then promptly soaked it in a bath of shampoo and disinfectant once we returned home. But I’ll never put on my blush without thinking of where that dang brush has been ever again.

Oh, is that two makeup brushes you see in her hands? Yep. One is a freebie Clinique, a.k.a. “Lucy’s brush” from now on. The other is clean, de-contaminated, and under lock and key in my makeup drawer.

Brush debacles aside, I’m pleased to say that I’ve found a new fill-up station for when my tank starts to run low. Do you think a body could run on mole sauce alone? It’s worth a shot, right?

And Jamie Oliver, watch out. There’s a new revolutionary in town, and I’m taking this movement guerilla-style.

-RDG

If you live in the Emerald City area, you’ve undoubtedly heard of The Essential Baking Company. Their loaves are in stores seemingly everywhere.

But did you know that the Baking Company is actually a company? Like with a storefront and a real live bakery that you can eat in?

I did. And I had been there before. But my pal Jen had not, so when we embarked on our now infamous mini-food tour of Seattle, we needed to stop here.

Their Wallingford shop is completely cute—brick, craftstman-style woodwork, wrought iron here and there. Very Seattle.

Inside, as my friend so aptly put it, “it looks like a bakery should look.” It’s bright but rustic, and smells completely and totally and insanely good.

So. The breads. You can buy a loaf in nearly any local Seattle grocery store. Yes, they’re good. But the bread is not what we came for.

We unfortunately didn’t come either for the three-cheese pizza tucked neatly into little individual paper sacks…

…or the single-serving quiches. Which looked and smelled divine and were cute to boot.

No, my friends, we came for goods of the sugar variety. And variety is what we had to choose from. There was an array of assorted pie/tart/cake concoctions….

…that I wanted to shove in my mouth without breathing. Fortunately, a thick layer of glass prevented me from doing so.

They weren’t so careful with the cookies, however. They left them right out in the open, dangerously close to RDG’s little paws. But which one to choose?

This one would do nicely: a double chocolate cookie. The gal behind the counter informed me that they tasted like a brownie. And before she could finish her sentence I screamed out something resembling “I’ll taaaaakeee one now please thanks WOO HOO I got a cookie!”

I reached out my hand to receive it but she graciously put it on a plate for me. All my manners go out the window when baked goods are involved.

So how was it? Dense, a bit on the chewy side, but moist and very rich. It certainly crumbled like a brownie. And tasted like one. And fit nicely into one corner of my belly, just like all good brownies should.

My pal Jen was taken aback by this cuter-than-all-get-out mini lemon meringue pie.

She needed it. And at Essential Baking company, they do this miraculous thing: you give them money and they give you sugary treats. It’s like a reward system for knowing how to locate your wallet.

She completely swooned over this little guy. I may have snuck a taste or two. And lemme tell ya, this was one heck of a tart. The crust was crisp but not hard, the lemon curd tasted fresh and light, and the meringue was as velvety and satisfying as whipped cream. De-flippin-licious.

Thanks, EBC, for the mid-afternoon pick-me-up. You are essentially delicious. You may now send me a variety pack of delicious treats on a weekly basis. Thanks bunches:)

Sincerely,

-RDG

Last week, my friend Jen and I embarked on a mini food tour of Seattle. Just our favorite spots, or ones we needed to try. Paseo Caribbean Restaurant falls into the favorite spot category, a.k.a. one of the few restaurants I can’t live without. I need Paseo like I need to breathe. And you do too.

This unassuming little shop with no signage out front lies in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood. There’s always a line out the door, unless you hit them up at at a rare lull. A second location in Ballard is rumored to be less crowded, but it’s farther out of the way for little ‘ol me.

If the line down the block doesn’t clue you in, the stickers on the door certainly let you know that this place has been discovered.

But it’s not all hype in a hand basket (yes, I’m making up phrases now, because it’s tuesday and I have honey in my hair…don’t ask). Whatever wait you have to endure, cash you need to procure from an atm (no plastic accepted here), or crowds of hungry Emerald City folk you have to elbow through, it’s all worth it in the end.

So, what exactly will you get in the end? What are you and scores of other Seattlites making this journey for?

This. A Cuban Roast. Tender roasted pork on a toasted Macrina roll slathered in garlic mayo, cilantro, crispy romaine, jalapeños and sauteed onions.

Not to mention the garlicy, buttery piece of corn that comes alongside.

This sandwich must contain a small amount of crack/cocaine because I keep going back for it again and again like some kind of junkie. Maybe that’s their secret. It’s Like Water for Chocolate meets a Cuban sandwich shop.

And oh, the corn. The CORN! There must be about 10 cloves of minced garlic and a pound of butter slathering each piece. I save mine for last. And then I tell myself that it’s okay that I just ate a foot-long pork sandwich because now I’m eating my vegetables. My slathered-in-butter vegetables.

The other thing I love about this restaurant, and yet another reason why I keep coming back, is that they’re exceedingly nice. Except for this sign. Which I need to tack up on my house.

Okay, they don’t look particularly nice here either. But they are—I promise. After I snapped this photo this lady smiled and laughed at me. Which is what people normally do when I’m taking pictures in their restaurants. Either that or look at me like I’m two tacos short of a combination plate.

But here’s the thing about niceness: I feel that sometimes when Seattle restaurants get as much positive press as this place has, they get a little snarky attitude. A little holier-than-thou. But not here. At Paseo, they’re here to feed you with a smile that will be contagious.

I had to post this photo because this guy looks like he’s running to squelch the fire a-brewin in the back. When in reality, he’s just rushing to get an order ready and smiling/laughing-at-me lady is manning the saute pan full of delicious fire-tinged onions. Paseo folk, as a breed, are not afraid of fire.

I mean, really? It’s so freaking delicious that it shouldn’t even be allowed.

I should also mention that they’ve got a full menu to sample for those of you who aren’t pork eatin’ types. And another tip from me to you: sometimes in the evening they run out of bread (usually after 5pm-ish), in which case I default to the West Caribbean Bowl or the Cuban Roast Plate. Go there for a lunch or early dinner if you want to score one of these delicious sammies. And they’re closed mondays. Which is why I didn’t post this yesterday.

Happy tuesday! I’m off to wash my hair…

-RDG