Alaska: The Food and Drink (subtitle 'We Ate The Hell Out of Everything')

I'm going to attempt to write five separate entries to cover the entire Alaska/Pacific Northwest experience. There's just so much. I will start with what is nearest and dearest to my heart, the food.


Back home after an epic vacation, and I'm sitting here in my bathrobe thinking sadly there will be no early morning 'first breakfast' fetched by Timmeh from the Horizon Court buffet on the cruise ship. This usually consisted of coffee (of course), and some kind of high fat pastry. My favorite became the croissant dough square filled with a dab of chocolate pastry cream and topped with sliced almonds.

Were there other offerings? Yes. Plenty of fresh fruit, oatmeal, dry cereal, granola and even congee with toppings, among many other things. There were really no excuses to not eat healthfully on the ship morning noon and night. You could also eat ridiculously morning noon and night (food was available on the buffet from 6am to midnight, and room service could probably fill in those remaining 6 hours). The choice is yours. We opted for some of both.

One of our favorite things to bring back to our cabin was the salmon lox. We got piles of that (sprinkled with slightly too salty capers) over the course of the week. There was usually some kind of smoked fish available, too. Smoked trout or mackerel appeared several mornings. Grilled or baked tomatoes along with baked beans (probably to satisfy the UK passengers) were some of the items on the hot line that we usually don't see.

Of course we saw the usual scrambled eggs, bacon, and greasy sausage links too. To satisfy the many overweight white tennis-shoe and blue jean wearing Americans we saw loading up on that stuff.

Looking back at the week before, we ate pretty damned well on the land portion of vacation, too. All three of our bed and breakfasts were really good to us.  Larry and Allen at Wildflower Inn in Anchorage laid out a feast of reindeer sausage, creamy scrambled eggs, rosemary roasted potatoes and a fruit platter. Marcella at Cozy Cove made us a frittata one morning and waffles the next. Plus the smoked salmon she and her teenage son (a young man of few words, to say the least) had made that summer. We got to try birch syrup on our waffles. Definitely different (a little like molasses) but super local. Havenwood was a refreshingly simple self-serve cereal deal, but we found a triple berry coffee cake baked by Karen outside our door the first morning, and she provided eggs. And we had the smoked salmon we bought from the market on the corner of Seward Highway and Herman Leirer Road.

A visual parade of only some of what disappeared down our gullets in Alaska:

Buffalo chili and clam chowder with afternoon pick-me-up coffee at Sunrise Inn near Cooper's Landing.

Yes, there were oysters in those shells minutes before the pic was taken. Briny, ice-cold Kachemak Bay raw oysters to be exact. Enjoyed in front of an open window at Captain Pattie's in Homer with a cool breeze blowing in from the same bay. And per our dentist's emphatic instructions (he lived in Alaska for a few years), we had a beer (Alaskan Brewing Amber) or two in the Salty Dawg Saloon  across the street while waiting for our table.

Tomato soup and a salmon burger at Maura's Café in Homer. We were gratified by the sight of a steady stream of locals inside, and picking up lunches to go. Not pictured due to the darkness of the interior was the dinner we enjoyed at Cafe Cups. Our innkeeper recommended Captain Pattie's for seafood with a simple preparation. For imaginative sauces and creativity, Café Cups was the place to go. This was corroborated by Colleen at Bear Creek Winery, who plied us with pours beyond count (including rhubarb wine, which she had us try to guess what it was). The fresh nectarine pico de gallo with beurre blanc on top of my halibut filet conjured an unexpected and delicious peaches-and-cream thing.

China Poot Porter at Homer Brewing Company

It nearly makes me weep to think of when the next time may be that we lay our hands on more of these smoked salmon strips. If we had known how good this was, and how we were not going to see anything like this again in our travels, we would have bought three or four more packages. 'Keep Refrigerated' be damned. We would have found a way. We stopped at the Tustumena Smokehouse retail store on a whim between Soldotna and Homer and bought one package. We put it in the fridge at Cozy Cove B and B, and didn't open it until days later, at which point there was no going back to buy more. The ingredients: salmon and sea salt. That's it, with smoke and air drying time. No long list of nitrites and other crap like we saw in everything else in our search for more. It was like meaty salmon bacon, slicked with delicious orange oil. That glacial blue-gray in the pic background is the rushing Kenai river. We sat in the car in the Cooper Creek campground on our rainy trip from Seward back to Anchorage and had a dashboard picnic of our Café Cups leftovers and this. I think we ate more salmon in two weeks than we do in two years.

Triple berry coffee cake, coffee, Midnight Sun Brewing Arctic Rhino stout, and smoked salmon

No pics of this, but we did do some of our own cooking along the way.  Tim's brother Tom and his wife Josie (our favorite fellow hikers and Grand Canyon raft trip companions) decided to take a last-minute three-week trip to Alaska and use up vacation time that was going to expire. We overlapped by ONE DAY. At Havenwood B and B in Seward, we used our full kitchen and gas grill to put out a simple meal of grilled salmon and halibut, locally grown kale (we introduced them to kale chips), sweet onion, tomatoes and  roasted blue potatoes. We were looking for more of these pink cranberry potatoes we'd seen at the Homer Farmers' market, but none to be found there. A simple, tasty and very late dinner was enjoyed after our Exit Glacier hike. We were dragging ass, but said goodbye and happy trails to them at 11pm.

Now for the cruise:

"So I called up the captain,  'please bring me my wine..."

The leftover wine from our dinner the previous night in the International dining room (which they store for you in one of the galleys and fetch upon request), plus a random smorgasboard of stuff from the buffet line. Incidentally, the dress code for the dining rooms is more or less thrown out the window the first night because not everyone will have had their luggage delivered to their rooms. So I took a bit of perverse pride in wearing my Exit Glacier mud-smeared hiking boots in the International Dining room. While eating prime rib.

Bear Creek Winery (Alaska's ONLY winery) Black Currant wine

 

They had sushi in the buffet the on Glacier Bay day. Not the best we've had, but still... Plus seafood paella. And the salmon lox, which we never failed to take. We loaded up several times throughout the course of a very visually overstimulating day, and scurried back to our balcony. Which was worth every penny we paid for it.

My halibut burger and fries at Klondike Rib and Salmon BBQ in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory (which was going to close for the season the in a week or so). A bit of a drive from Skagway for lunch (2 hours) but worth being able to outrun the obnoxious and diesel fume-reeking tour busses. And to be able to say we've been in Whitehorse, Canada. It was one of the best fish sandwiches I've ever had in my life. Not pictured is Tim's delicious halibut chowder. Big chunks of potatoes and carrots. We actually ate chowder/bisques quite a few times, including a smackdown between Seward Brewing Company and Ray's Waterfront in Seward. Seward Brewing won hands down. Fragrant with dill and loaded with chunks of multiple fishes.

 

Tracy's Crab Shack in Juneau. We didn't feel like fighting with crab legs, so we opted for bowls of creamy crab bisque and hot crab cakes. Perfect on a chilly, rainy afternoon following our whale-watching outing.

 

 

My 'I never drink things like this but I'm aboard a big-ass, luxurious ship off the coast of Alaska so what the hell' indulgence. It's called an Alaska Mudslide, and I don't remember how much it cost, or what all was in it, but it was like a delicious chocolate shake, and prompted a passer-by to ask about it. I didn't think it had any booze in it until I was going up the stairs about a half hour later.

Yes, a blurry shot, but this is a tian of poached seafoods. That little pile of golden caviar to the right was some of the best I've ever had. Not that I've had that much, but I still had this idea that I don't like it. I DO SO like it.

Not pictured is the pasta arrabiata we had on 'Italian night' in the Pacific Moon dining room. We ended up sitting right next to where a dining room host (Phillipo?) was making it. I watched him pour copious amounts of hot pepper flakes into a skillet swimming with hot olive oil, then toss in the pasta and tomato sauce. I asked for a smallish bowl of it to try before the main course and was brought a big honking bowl. Like the small taste of short rib entree I requested one other night and was brought enough to feed a family of four. Phillipo apparently appreciated us telling him that our sinuses were now completely cleared, and that I wanted some more of it for breakfast. He gave us brimming second shot glasses of  limoncello as we were leaving the dining room.

Tim's birthday dinner of Beef Wellington and spinach souffle'.

We ended up getting three of these over the course of the week. The best dessert on the entire ship in our opinion, and that of the cruise-savvy Belgian Vancouverite couple we sat next to in the Vivaldi dining room. All the waiters sing 'Happy Birthday' or 'Happy Anniversary' to you, as appropriate. It's a layered chocolate cake coated in chocolate. The leftovers of the third made a hasty breakfast the morning of debarkation in Vancouver.

                                  *very heavy Italian accent* 'I call this Lobster Margarita'

To our delighted shock, we got selected for the Chef's Table Thursday night. Per our Cruise Critic.com research, Tim dialed the 'Dine Line' immediately upon reaching our cabin and put in our names. We don't know what criteria they use or how much profiling is done, but Tuesday afternoon we discovered a letter placed on our bed by the cabin steward with an invitation, and instructions to fill out a health questionnaire, wear freshly laundered clothing, closed-toe footwear and how to correctly wash your hands. We were to meet the Maitre d'Hôtel Francisco Patricio in the atrium along with seven other lucky people and begin with appetizers in one of the galleys (the one off the Santa Fe dining room).  The Sapphire Princess' executive chef Antonin Costantini strolled in, and away we went on a whirlwind festival of decadent indulgences.

Foie gras on brioche toasts

Mini quiches of Alaskan crab and black truffle

Duck prosciutto and bittersweet chocolate on crunchy bread sticks

Lobster and mushroom risotto

 

The palate cleanser: Sicilian orange sorbet. After they set it before us, the waiters poured VODKA into the top. We'd seen (and smelled) a girl squeezing a mountain of oranges in the kitchen while having our appetizers. That was all for us.

This had us all crying 'Uncle!' As for myself I was amused by the slightly pervy name: Double Impact Surf and Turf.  A rack of lamb, filet mignon, lobster AND scallops. As delicious as it was, it was just too much. In spite of warnings/prior knowledge to eat as little as possible ALL DAY. The tableside prep had everyone else in the dining room staring and wondering what the hell was going on. The chef repeatedly flambéed the meats, which were hanging on racks with aromatics and cherry tomatoes with cognac and drippings.

I naturally immediately forgot her name, but this lovely woman from Florida cracked me right up. She amused us with tales of their fishing trip that day, and how their fishing guide calmed down flailing halibut by petting their bellies and stroking their lateral line ('What are you, the Halibut Whisperer??!') Does she look old enough to be a grandmother? Well, yes she is, and I complimented her thusly. She was getting quite slap-happy by the cheese course (as if every one of us at the table wasn't just as slap-happy). That baked camembert with pine nuts on a pastry/biscuit base with port reduction was discussed as something easily replicated at home.

 

 

 

Dessert was something straight off the Cooking Channel or Food Network. A bowl made of sugar, with pulled sugar sculptures stuck into the amaretto parfait. The coiled sugar actually bounced like a spring. It all but begged you to play with it.  A dessert wine was poured to accompany this (liberal amounts of champagne and wine had been poured to accompany every single other course, too). It is no shocker that by this point we were all shrieking with delighted laughter like a table full of best friends. We must have provided quite a show for the all the other diners in the room. We'll never know, since they were all long gone by the time we cleared out. The evening ended with much applause to the chef and maître d', and all the servers. We got signed cookbooks, and all the ladies got a rose. The rose I sadly had to leave in the cabin two days later or else risk a severe hand-slapping from Canadian customs.

 

 

This wasn't my favorite beer of the trip (actually that would have been the Mother's Milk Irish Stout or the Coffee Porter at St. Elias Brewing Company in Soldotna), but you have to be amused by the name. And we kept trying the desserts on the buffet line.  We continually were surprised that the flavor did not quite live up to the appearance. Most were very pretty, but a little bland. We kept trying anyway.

My burrata appetizer in the surcharge restaurant Sabatini's. As I was messing around with my camera, a host sidled up beside me and jokingly said 'So, someone wants to start their own restaurant?' He then went on to ask how we enjoyed the chef's table 'How did you know we were there?' I asked.  'I know everything, madame.' was his coy answer (how many times does a woman get called 'madame' during a 7-day cruise??). He probably was there (these servers turned up all over the ship on various shifts), but hey, after six or seven toasts ('Salute!') Santa Claus could have strolled in and I might not have noticed or remembered.

Tim's shrimp, white bean and fennel salad. Not pictured is the paper cone of tender, perfectly crispy, non-greasy fried calamari. Something we never normally order, but were surprised how good it was.

Also not pictured is the Spaghetti e Olio. Again, the pasta. Maybe it was because the executive chef for the whole cruise line is Italian and that's what they do well, or it's just that Italian food is so damned good. Or I was pasta-deprived. It was fragrant with olive oil and garlic, spicy with red pepper flakes. And perfectly, correctly cooked. So much so that I noticed how incorrectly I've been making it at home. I mean, like 'Al dente' in neon lights. Surprisingly, it was the simple (and Italian) things I kept daydreaming about, like that pasta arrabiata. Or the cracker-thin bubbly, crispy pizza from one of the pizza stations (Alfredo's or Prego, I can't remember which one I visited) near the indoor pool. And I thought I didn't like thin pizza.

We are so going to do this at home with some sort of local fish. Whole sea bass baked in a salt-flour-egg white crust. Waiter Ronald (go ahead, do your worst with the Ron jokes, Bryan) cracked it open and fileted it tableside. This production was followed by a rousing cheer from his fellow servers and much applause from the room. When we later told him how delicious and moist it was, despite finding a couple small pinbones, he said, 'You find bones? I give you double dessert!'

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo.....!!'

And so it was we were presented with another Princess chocolate cake with a lit candle and Tim got 'Happy Birthday' sung to him for the second time in a week. In Filipino.

A Napoleon of praline and I forget what kind of creamy fillings

Tim's lemon tart. He really didn't have room for any of it, but ate everything but the crust.

Post cruise, the local seafood eating continued. We sought out the restaurant we stumbled on 12 years ago in Anacortes, Rockfish Grill. It was there we remember having our eyes and tastebuds opened to the idea of watermelon and feta cheese together in a salad, and mussel salad with a dressing made with ale. This time we had a salmon salad, a house salad, and swimming plate o' local clams and mussels with white beans and chorizo. And Anacortes Brewing Oatmeal Stout. We enjoyed the blinding sunshine and walked around the historic old town in search of Nanaimo bars. No luck. One girl had never even heard of them. Maybe we were too far from Vancouver/Nanaimo. I resolved to make them later this fall at home. We did find a luscious marionberry scone which ended up being nearly battered to oblivion by the end of the flight and drive home. We walked a few blocks to the farmers' market and bought some fantastically floral maple flower honey. And those insanely voluptuous Pacific Northwest blackberries. We ate the pint as we drove down the length of Whidbey Island, and stopped by an overgrown roadside to pick more from the rampant canes. A lot of them were past their prime. We wished we could have loaded up with more stuff including local hazelnuts, but we knew we were already close to our luggage weight limit.

Not pictured was the one delicious local ice cream bar  we bought at Three Sisters Market on Whidbey Island. It was soooo peanut buttery. Many other flavors, including local lavender could have been tried. Again, we had to stick to a visual-only admiration the local baked goods and offerings.

And the final meal was, believe it or not, at SeaTac airport. There is an Ivar's and an Anthony's among other chain eateries beyond security that blow away the usual fast food crap. Our waiter told us this is a trend that is going to continue in other airports. We heartily approve. We chose Anthony's because it had lots of seats, and we tucked ourselves in the back near the window away from all the airport commotion. We had a couple hours to kill before our 2330 flight. I would have loved to find something downtown near the Pike Street Market, but this meal was all the more relaxing because this way our rental car was turned in, we were checked in, and our luggage was repacked and squeaking under the weight limit. One each of a salmon and halibut taco and a salmon salad, with local Washington peach salsa. And local beer (Mack and Jack's Black Cat Porter). And a peach slump a la mode.

We had noted, admiring a sunset-lit Mt. Ranier in the distance, as we had been driving southward to the airport that it was 12 years ago to the day we had had our minds blown at a 6-hour dining extravaganza at The Herb Farm, just a few miles away. Exact same kind of weather, but a whole different world. 9/11 happened 4 days later, and turned air travel upside down forever. But it didn't change our appreciation of top-notch, locally sourced food or diminish the desire to seek it out everywhere we go.