Things I will be making this week: Part 2, Pork Asado

As most folks know, I have a love/hate relationship with pork. While I do enjoy bacon (not floppy) and some snausage products, I am still a ways away from finding a love affair with pork roasts and ribs. But I am getting there.

After falling for a pulled pork sandwich at Minimus/Maximus downtown, we decided to try our own pulled pork this summer. While I wouldn't say our experiment failed, I would say that we definitely will need to try again. First, we rushed the meat. It needed to rest a lot longer than we gave it. But we had a hungry and antsy guest. After shredding a forearm high pile of hot and slippery porcine grease, I could barely eat the stuff. I was stabbed and burnt and though the bbq sauce was delicious, I simply had no appetite for it.

When I found this recipe, I knew the pork could have some redemption.

This recipe comes from the Homesick Texan Blog and is adapted from Mark Flowers and can be found here. The story is worth reading because all of us who have had an "Its A Small World" moment can relate to the joy in finding folks out there that share something random with us. Also Mark Flowers' instructions on how to make a cooking "disco" (big pan) are pretty funny.

Some notes on my experience...Since the ill fated pork roast, I continue to be more comfortable with pork loin than any other sort of pork meat. And I used it and it was delicious so if you are concerned about using a leaner cut, for me, it was delicious. Served with simple queso fresco and cilantro on warm tortillas I couldn't have asked for more. They are messy. And fantastic. We made a simple vinegar, cilantro, carrot, cumin, and cabbage slaw for alongside which was a good foil to the richness of the sauce.

Things I will be making this week: Part 1, Drunken Noodles

Since we've just discussed how I don't like to write about things that I have just cooked, lets preview some of my favorite items that I will be making again this week with my copious spare vacation time. As many folks know, I have never met a noodle that I don't like. So since I have little hope as a low-carber, I embrace a noodle-full lifestyle. My friend W once mentioned that I would make an excellent Chinese person since I like noodles so much. (She is Chinese and now takes me for noodles whenever it is humanly possible.) I don't have a vast pasta repertoire -- some lasagna and homemade noodles here and there, and my grandmother's red sauce. (See my post on meatballs -- we aren't Italian, just hungry.)

So when I found this recipe I was both intrigued and skeptical. Drunken Noodles consist of an Italian/French fusion of flavors. Using thin pasta such as Angel Hair and a bottle of cheap white, you can have a simply amazing dinner. I had read about this technique before seeing Rachel Ray use the technique with red wine last holiday on Iron Chef. I immediately dismissed it for several reasons.


First, we had recently tried pink soba noodles from the Asian grocery and as cute as they were, they looked undeniably like intestines and I figured red wine would cause the same sort of pallor. Secondly, I couldn't imagine that the wine diluted in that much water would taste like anything. And lastly, I felt that the technique was likely a disgraceful waste of wine, but I cannot tell you how glad I am that I changed my mind. As Ms. Saretsky explains in here original recipe article, you can use just about any kind of wine for the pasta -- but white works so well and is a wonderful compliment to the leeks.

Drunken Noodles Adapted from Kerry Saretsky @ Serious Eats. Original here.

Ingredients
3 medium leeks or 2 large leeks, sliced into julienne and rinsed 2 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup water (you might need extra)
1 bottle of white wine (I like Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc), 1/2 to 3/4 cup reserved (Don't use cooking wine like Sherry or Marsala)
1 pound angel hair or capellini or some other thin pasta.
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup grated Parmesan or Grana Padano
1 tablespoon parsley, chopped Kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper

Notes and Steps (these are a redux, please see the original for more detail):

1. Make sure to slice the leeks as thin as possible. Otherwise, they take a long time to sweat out. Make sure your cuts are clean and to separate them before they go into the sweating pan or you will just have a mass of onion, not strands.

2. Using a wide sauce pan, sweat the leeks until they are soft and spaghetti-like in texture. The original recipe calls for about 20 minutes. I use an old magnalite with a lid, adding butter/water as needed. Your leeks will likely be seasonally wetter or drier and you simply must adjust...

3. Reserve 1/2 to 3/4 cup of wine, then add the rest to a pot of water with a generous amount of kosher salt. Cook pasta until al dente.

4. Once the leeks are soft, add 1/4 to 1/2 cup of wine, and allow to reduce slightly. Then add the cream. Make sure you are stirring and separating those leeks. Add a little pasta water and the rest of the reserved wine. Then toss with the pasta, Parmesan, and parsley. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

I like some well seasoned boneless chicken breasts with this particular recipe. I have enjoyed cooking them in the cast iron skillet of late which allows a fantastic crust for such a pedestrian protein.

This technique is simple, fast, and worth trying for the extra flavor. The first time I tried this recipe, I added some scallions that needed to be used. Don't do this. Ick. The texture and flavor of sweated leeks and scallions are very different and should be kept separate. Make sure you rinse your leeks really well -- the way they grow makes them prone to be very sandy which is bad for teeth. Enjoy!

Slackers and Brunch

A couple of weeks ago, I was chatting with my Mama (aka my grandmother) who nonchalantly mentioned that she had been on my blog. She said something like, " Um, you really need to put something else on there. I mean I know you like tomatoes, but come on!" Now as one of my staunchest supporters in life etc, I know that when I start getting sh*t from my own mother I should probably fix the issue.

As a once aspiring writer, I can admit that a stream of consciousness about what I eat, sleep, drink, think, do, etc is constantly running through my mind. The problem, of course, is getting it from inside to somewhere external -- anywhere external at this point.

While I can explain fairly coherently why I hesitate to put poetry down anymore, reflections on cooking is a little harder to defend. And here is the grand admission: I am lazy and moody. Take this morning, for instance. I like Brunch. I like it as a concept, but I am an instant gratification sort of person. And brunch takes....For. Ever. This morning, I decided to make onion quiche -- a laborious process whereupon four onions are sacrificed, caramelized for a half hour (above) then added to a crust of one's choosing. My crust, also laborious, was a potato crust mixed with Parmesan and flour, pre-baked (as pictured on the left) for a half hour.

Now the quiche wasn't bad, it just wasn't knock-your-socks off delicious which after 2 hours of vacation time in the kitchen one feels somewhat jilted by. And after scrubbing the cast iron skillet and secreting away the remains of my disappointingly short quiche, I don't sit down and write about it. I pout.

And while I excel at pouting (just ask said Mama or perhaps Chef Beef), it isn't a very good use of one's vacation time either. Onion Pie (quiche) recipe here. Potato crust recipe here. The small vessels behind the pie are small oven-proof stoneware that I use for overflow in such cases -- here it was extra potato crust and custard.

Which I shall continue to be underwhelmed with for breakfast for the rest of the week. (Snicker.) But seriously, if you decide to recreate some onion pie for yourself, I recommend a metal, not glass pie tin and would stay away from the potato crust, or at least spend some time drying the potatoes beforehand as the extra moisture did impact the height of the quiche once it cooled. And some herb addition -- maybe some thyme or basil -- might have been welcome as well.

The Great Tomato Experiment.

Tomatoes are one of my favorite foods. Last fall, I had the grand idea to grow them. The main challenge in this pursuit is that I live in Seattle where there is not really very much sun. And sun is really what makes tomatoes flourish. This, however, was the hottest summer in Seattle on record, so one might think that I had a significant upper hand. However, my timing was a bit off and the overall crop was small. However, I learned several things of which I'll share with you...

1. Seed early: I grew my tomatoes from seed. I seeded 5 types ordered online in an organic compostable seeding kit from Lowes. You can't put tomatoes outside as early in Seattle because of the rain, but starting them a few weeks earlier indoors would have helped me beat the return of the rainy season in August. I made my tomatoes a little sprouting space near the heating vent, the window, and supplemented them with a growing light that I stole from my sewing area. The plastic, protective sheeting that came with the kit helped keep moisture in, but we had to be careful of seedling killing mold as well. It was a delicate balance to combat underside mold and still keep them well watered. Eventually, though, they did seed and I took a picture of my very first green seedling.

2. Time to transplant: I planted 50 seeds, of which about 75% sprouted. I kept 25 initially but only 11 ended up being healthy enough to transplant. Then came time to transplant the seedings. After several false starts trying to harden them off in the front and back yards, they were finally strong enough to withstand a little sunburn and wind trauma. I selected 5 pots and planted 2 in each pot and three in the last pot.
In Japan, where container gardening is common and necessary, they feel that plants like tomatoes can share pots because it makes the tomatoes work harder and therefore be better fruit. I also bought the tomatoes some geraniums for friends because they are supposed to help repel some of the pests who love tomatoes. I also bought them wire cages, though I couldn't imagine that they'd ever get tall enough to need them.

3. Panic. Then they started growing. A lot. I gave my tomatoes 2 canfuls of water every single day at the same time, avoiding their leaves. If tomatoes aren't watered regularly, they can split and crack. I also gave them fertilizer during the first potting and they started to grow very large. Tomatoes don't have large root systems, but they don't like to touch eachother either.

So, I decided to take my 5 pot system and turn it into a ten pot system. At this point I also added some basil to the mix as well as some thyme to attract bees to the tomato flowers for pollination. The second replanting set my plants back about a week. I replanted on a cool day and gave them fertilizer, but still I was afraid that I would lose some because of my poor initial planning. But I shouldn't have worried. Twelve days later I had flowers.

4. And Bugs. I had bugs. Whiteflies. I read in horror about how they would suck the life from my carefully pruned and watered plants. So I marched myself down to the giant plant center down the street and bought ladybugs. Ladybugs are kept in the fridge of your favorite garden center and as soon as they come out of the fridge, they go crazy. Thus, its a careful ruse you must concoct to convince the ladybugs to stay. First, under the cloak of darkness, you must give your plants a drink to share with the ladies. Then, you take them from the fridge to the plants as quickly as possible so that they are still asleep and when they wake up, you have finished sprinkling 1000 of them onto your front patio. When they no longer have anything to eat, they fly away to find something else to snack on -- a pretty perfect pest control if I do say so. My ladybugs stayed about a week and then were off to greener pastures. They did their job admirably. The flies came back later in the season, but first we had TOMATOES! This tomato was from the black pear variety -- the first tomato to come in. These plants were not repotted -- I let them share a pot to see what would happen -- and were the first to mature and the largest. Not repotting them might have caused quicker soil nutrient depletion and fewer fruit, but the fruit from these plants were in general larger than their friends and neighbors.


And the tomatoes grew with regular watering but right as the time came for them to begin turning red, the weather cooled. Contrary to popular belief, its the temperature not the sun that changes your tomatoes by the production of some manner of ethelyne gas (also produced by apples). Rain and wind interrupts that process and so unfortunately my tomatoes have been slow to change. As we had a frost threat last week, i harvested all the greens and have them stored away for the fall. My small but precious collection of tomatoes has made me very proud and I plan to do it again next year, despite all the pitfalls I might face.

5. Finally we have tomatoes. And they are good. And we can eat a whole meal of tomatoes...

Cookies

Here is an example of an original -- my own chocolate chip cookie recipe that I developed over time starting from something from an old chip bag from the 80s. There is nothing wrong with this recipe and most folks seem to like them. They look like this:

Today was the culmination of an experiment whereupon I used the New York Times cookie recipe from last fall which takes about a day and a half. They look like this:

While both have aesthetically pleasing elements, there are only a couple of fundamental differences. First, NYT uses butter which is more sensitive to temperature and humidity than shortening seems to be. Secondly, NYT uses chilling to bond flour, develop gluten, and develop flavor (in this case brown sugar + butter = toffee). 36 hours of waiting seems to make one desire a cookie more than usual.

The NYT article can be found here. My first batch (pictured) was a little flat while the second two batches came out tall and fluffy. This was either due to an ill heated oven, too cold dough, or perhaps I overworked the first batch while molding into shape. Regardless, I think the texture is improved but I am still not sold on butter over shortening. Next iteration, I believe I will chill my original recipe to see if any improvement in texture or flavor development can be found...

Sushi Class

A week or three before all of my hospital/dome food drama, we set about to have some fun with C & J.  See, a while ago, C and I embarked upon an Italian cooking class at a smaller establishment and had a great time mainlining cheap white wine and trying to show off knife skills (me, ahem) and generally being the only people in the class with personality and a desire to learn (that was all C -- I was too busy with the wine). 

Anywho, we decided to try and add boys to the mix and since we all love sushi, why not take a sushi cooking class!?

As J was quick to point out, very little cooking was involved in the sushi course. As in none. It was really a sushi rolling course where we learned about how to cook rice, but didn't really participate. We also learned how to cut fish, how many colors should be a part of your sushi roll, and that if you want good seasonings for  your rice, you'd better find yourself a Japanese grandmother or you are SOL. 

While the more studious among us made the most beautiful wares (C's spicy tuna rolls above left), and Chef Beef was busy trying to entertain the obviously overwhelmed and alone girl at the end of our bench. I was basking in an earful of snark from the class pet, J "The Engineer" Sushimaker (seen above contemplating that hand roll with serious distrust). Seriously, it was probably more fun than any sober cooking class had a right to be but we were all tired little tunas when it was all over.  Tired little tunas lugging home two pounds of leftover sushi...

I think what we all can agree on is that sushi costs a lot and thats O.K. because its ridiculously hard work and requires a skill set and patience that is not really possessed by our little tuna posse. But we were glad we tried it.

The Little Muffin Under The Dome

You know what has fallen out of fashion in dining? Domes. You know why? They make your food all sweaty if they aren't taken off right away. And who really has time to polish all that silver. Well, I found a place that has solved at least the second problem. Its called the Hospital and its on my top ten places of 2009 "Where NOT To Eat" (complete list to be published in November or something). 

Ahhh, the Hospital where beeping, crying, and gagging are all the background ambiance you might need. Trying to finish that sandwich? They are going to need that arm to take your blood pressure so you can just forget it. Wanting to eat? Naaah. Testing of blood comes first, that is if you can even get enough sleep so that you aren't too nauseous 

to eat in the first place. 

Then someone comes to nag you about whether or not you've ordered breakfast yet. Miss 2 meals? Meet your nutritionist!

Now hospital food has come a long way. My hospital had  a menu....A MENU! They said it really helped them to eliminate waste because folks could just order what they wanted like room service. And while its an improvement (I think) over how things used to be, the food was still not fantastic. And part of the issue was the domes.

Now these domes were plastic. And these domes seemed to always cover A. a bread product or B. the "warm thing" (often those two were the same). Since nausea was a big part of my life at L'Hospital, I centered my meals on things like toast and cereal and tuna melts... though I did sadly venture into a taco salad one evening. But I digress. Does whole wheat toast really need a dome? It didn't keep the toast warm, instead made it chewy enough to be barely ingestible. And the muffin... the muffin came the morning I was due to be let go. Chef Beef and I got a big laugh out of the little muffin under the dome. 

Seriously, most of the people at the hospital were very nice and I wouldn't want them to feel bad about the food. Except for the nurse who teased me about eating tuna melts. And the evil phlebotomist. But thats another blog post for another blog....

Pinxtos and Pointe Shoes

Not last Friday but the Friday before, I asked C to go to the ballet with me. The Pacific Northwest Ballet was nearing the end of their run of Swan Lake and so off we flew to see swans in formation and daring duels. The ballet was good -- certainly not their best performance, but entertaining nonetheless.

Our deal was that C was to take care of dinner beforehand (though really I made her sit through a stodgy ballet AND made her pay for dinner, so really who got the better end of that deal?). She suggested Andaluca for their small plates (pinxtos/tapas). Tapas is really a perfect pre-show option since its no fun being full in a theater. There are pinxtos/tapas joints sprining up all over Seattle, but Andaluca has been around for a while. (The last time I had tapas, I was in San Francisco with Mrs. Mikey at the legendary Cha Cha Cha and what I mostly remember is not ordering shark but having a lot of fun. About a year later, I was back home in Montana and the horse shoer was talking about visiting San Francisco and going to Cha Cha Cha -- I would never have guessed he had it in him!)

It was quiet at Andaluca early on a Friday night (later we learned that evil road construction was most likely to blame). I had studied the menu intently beforehand and peppered C with my selections which she graciously agreed to. Our first two courses were really interesting and savory. The first, a potato croquette, was light and well seasoned with a crisp outside and not too oily. The second was a lamb meatball which was actually an egg coated with lamb mixture. The egg was perfectly cooked and served sliced in half beautifully. The meat was enhanced by the richness of the egg yolk, but since we each got half, it wasn't overwhelming.

Our second round (courses 3 and 4) were both quite yellow (and unfortunately my photography of that course was a little blurry despite only having 2 glasses of Cedar Green Sauvignon Blanc under my belt...thats C's delicious Granacha in the first picture.) During the second course, I first tried a heavily spiced chicken skewer with Marcona almonds which was tender and salty. The second bite was a small serving of the paella alongside a fat prawn. Each of us thought both the chicken and the paella were salty, but since we ate them in the reverse order, neither of us felt the same about the second thing we ate. Saffron and Tumeric were wealthy in the second round and though wonderful, I would say that round was probably our least favorite.

The last 3 dishes came out together and included dolmas, a paquette filled with guava and creamy cheese, and a cauliflower gratin. The dolmas were delicious, though I have never liked dolmas as much as I would like to and this time was no exception. The paquette, however, was a revelation -- rich, salty, and sweet inside a nice crunchy phyllo pastry. The gratin was the surprise of the night. I had been reading about a cauliflower gratin somewhere else that week and thought to myself, "wow, what a waste of ingredients just to eat cauliflower" but seeing it again on the menu made me think that maybe folks were onto something. It was amazing -- perfectly spiced and creamy served with crunchy bread.

Though we ran out of time for dessert, I am sure it would have been fabulous. I am totally sold on the pinxtos way of grazing through a menu and will definitely visit Andaluca again soon.

Chicken Pie

When I saw this recipe for Moroccan Chicken Pie, I thought I was in heaven. But it seems that Moroccan food might be best left up to the Moraccans. While the pie turned out beautifully, its seems that either recipe or implementation was flawed because it was like being hit in the snoot with salt and spices. At best I would call it over-wraught. At worst, near inedible.

I am the sort of person who can read a list of ingredients and 80% of the time will know if a recipe is going to work for me. The two instances where my instinct routinely fails are Casseroles and ethinic foods whose spices I am not familiar with.

I LOVE Moroccan food. When Chef Beef and I started dating, one of our first vacations was to Calgary, Alberta. We took a beautiful drive up for Labor Day and wended our way about the city. One night, we decided to take advantage of the local casino, located in the Olympic Village. While he opted for the craps tables, I took out a few dollars and played the slots. I happen to be pretty damned lucky at slots and ended up winning about $200. So we decided to go to dinner. How we selected the Sultan's Tent is still a bit fuzzy, but to this day it is still one of the best meals of my life. Since dinner had become essentially free, thanks to my winnings, we opted for a 7 course "Sultan's Feast" featuring everything from Tagines to Briouts (pastries filled with savory filling). It might be time to head back to Canada...

Things I didn't know about Eggs

I took this picture while making deviled eggs for a party back in January (are we a little backed up on blog posts? nah...).There are things I didn't know about deviled eggs then that I do now. Let me share those.

• Use old eggs. New eggs are harder to peel. In this picture, the white egg is old and the brown eggs are new. The white egg was the only one that was easy to peel.
• Anne Burrell's technique of letting the eggs boil for 1 minute, then sit for 13 minutes exactly, then shocking them in cold water DID result in perfectly cooked eggs; BUT
• Deviled egg recipes do not scale up 1 to 1. Say if you are supposed to use a half a cup of mayo for 6 eggs, that doesn't mean you should use an entire cup for 12. Yours truly didn't know that and for her party had runny icky mayo eggs. And I LIKE mayo. Deviled eggs are just one of those things you have to taste the whole way through adding and adjusting because otherwise, they just aren't worth the work.
  

I don't have a picture of the finished eggs because they were that bad. The beginning picture is much better to remember them by.

Asparagus Season

Here in Washington State (and countless other places of course) it is asparagus season. When I was young, my mom and I used to cook up some hard boiled eggs and sizzlean then jump into the car with Bunny the mastiff and drive down to the banks of the river. There we looked for asparagus. It was hard to find with all the other reedy plants around. We stopped to play in the water and even carved our names into a tree. Those days with my mom are still some of my fondest memories (I had a silver coat! Rad!) and I think of her every time I eat asparagus. Which is admittedly a lot.

I found some big fat asparagus at the store this week. Chef Beef and I were in the mood for a quick dinner so I found some lean top loin steak and assigned him to the grill. (That is his fire roasted garlic butter on the steaks -- its a secret process I know nothing about)

I cut the asparagus (2 bunches) on the bias and sauteed it in about 1TB of olive oil for about 4 minutes. I then added minced garlic (4 cloves) and steamed for another 2 minutes, then added pine nuts (1/4 cup) for another 2 minutes browning everything off. Here's how it all turned out. Fast and supremely good.

California Junk Salad and Baby Showers

In March, I flew down to California to throw my friend A's baby shower. I spent a day making food to freeze for her first week home from the hospital -- a gesture that she appreciated but one that her husband was pretty unsure about. As for the shower itself, I decided to have that catered -- both because I was tired of cooking but because I also lack the ability to make tea sandwiches.

See, the last baby shower I went to prior to this one was also in California. I was recruited to help set up and I did so gladly. But sometimes being in other people's homes with other people's tools and other people's rules turns out badly. I actually got fired from making tea sandwiches because they weren't uniform enough. The kicker is, I know how to cook...but I am sure I left a lasting impression otherwise.

The Brownstone Cafe in Fullerton catered A's baby shower and it was very nice. My co-host must have been eating tea sandwiches for a week afterwards, though.

Anyhow, while I was working away in A's kitchen creating frozen lasagna, meatballs and sauce, and enchiladas, I sat down for lunch with a cold Starbucks iced mocha and had a junk salad. For me, junk salads are simply those that contain what I want to eat and nothing else. This one contained heirloom tomatoes, avocado, and cucumber -- in March! Gotta love California.

Chez Lounge

When I was very little, I was afraid of sleeping alone. My grandparents had a wonderful piece of furniture in their room that I was allowed to sleep on...a cream and green chaise lounge. Naturally, though I don't own one today, it remains one of my favorite pieces of furniture. That is why when we bounced our Friday heels up the stairs to the third floor of the corner Pike Place Market Building...above the butcher and the ice cream shop and several vegetable vendors...I had high hopes for such a cleverly named cafe.

Chez Lounge is a pun based derivative of Chez Shea, a longtime market venue previously only available for dinner. In a time when most restaurants are cutting back hours, its nice to see more choices available. C suggested that we take advantage of one of the Thirty for Thirty promotions. G and J met up with us over a raggedy half hour where we sat sipping wine and overlooking the painted pigs on the roof of the main market building. Gradually the intimate space filled up, and though small, the tables aren't particularly crammed together and the high ceilings did not amplify noise as I thought they might. We wereprobably the loudest people there.

For $15 (not much of a splurge before wine -- which we all had), Chez Lounge offered a 3 course prix fixe menu that catered to meaters and veggies alike. G and I started with a wonderful butter lettuce salad with perfectly candied and slightly salty walnuts (so often nuts are candied to the point of being painful to eat). J tried the creamy broccoli rabe soup and C started with the salmon mousse. The mousse was a tad salmony to be honest, but we helped C finish it anyways, and really that was probably the only low point of the meal. For the second course, we all had something different. I tried the artichoke gratin, G braved the boulliabase, J went for the burger, while C tried the grilled three cheese sandwich with greens. The boulliabase looked delicious, but I just have issues with sea shells in my soup (say that 10 times fast). I parceled out pieces of gratin and tried a hunk of C's delicious cheese sandwich. I think on the right day with a steaming bowl of tomato soup, it would be just the ticket.


But much like a fairy tale princess, I had to suddenly abandon the pursuit of the third course and high tail it back to the office for a meeting that was suddenly just 10 minutes away. I stuck C with my bill and scurried down the street as fast as my little heels would carry me. Breathlessly I sat down three minutes early onlly to be told that I was late as they wanted to start 5 minutes early....Ahh, the best laid plans. In short, Chez Lounge was delicious and a wonderful space. The service was pleasant, but not overbearing...with just enough eyebrow wagging to keep one in line, but not enough to feel intimidated. This is the way French food -- European lunches, should feel. I may have been late, but as I ran down the street feeling warm and relaxed, I thought to myself, "It was worth it."

The Sugar Shack

Today is a day off so I took myself for breakfast at one of my usual spots. Normally we just go on the weekends to see our favorite (and only) waitress Annie. The place is always packed as they have just 8 or 9 tables. The service can be spotty since Annie, who has a dry sense of humor, handles everything from dishes to waiting tables. But its all a part of the atmosphere and patrons traditionally take turns serving coffee to everyone if Annie gets held up. They don't take credit cards, just cash or check and they are very close to our house. In traditional diner style, there are records hung everywhere and in the winter, space heaters near the large window seats. Adults are encouraged to color. Its charming in a divey sort of way and it always makes me happy to decorate with catsup. This is my ham and cheese omelette with hash browns and and an english muffin.