Monday, July 11, 2005
Eater on "fried ducks eggs"
[Originally published May 22, 2005.]
Hate eating all that white part of fried eggs? Try fried duck's egg.
The fried duck's egg sat atop the grilled asparagus, its massive yellow yolks straining and gleaming. Panic, it seemed to say, as if it might burst at first fork-prick and gush across the plate, over the edge and onto the table cloth in an adhesive mess.
Sufficed to say the grilled asparagus, tiny and bundled, was delicious, and the egg?
Tasted like chicken.
Found on the menu at Union , in Seattle. Also worth noting: the servers aren't mutes, they just walk that way. And the one we had looked to be an actor paying the bills, with an accent that hinted of Ireland and mannerisms that one might expect in a book about a restaurant. Also, as far as the standard cheese/pasta combo that restaurants endlessly turn out for children tired of chicken nuggets, Union's was one of the best two found in the region of late (Fife in NE Portland also represents). The secret? They put peas in with their (forgot the kind of) noodles. Yum, said the boy, age 9.
Obligatory note: dinner cost a small fortune. The beef was chief, and dessert? Caramel apples from a place up the street in downtown Seattle, and then a gallon of beer at the SeaMonster Lounge in Seattle's Wallingford neighborhood.
Hate eating all that white part of fried eggs? Try fried duck's egg.
The fried duck's egg sat atop the grilled asparagus, its massive yellow yolks straining and gleaming. Panic, it seemed to say, as if it might burst at first fork-prick and gush across the plate, over the edge and onto the table cloth in an adhesive mess.
Sufficed to say the grilled asparagus, tiny and bundled, was delicious, and the egg?
Tasted like chicken.
Found on the menu at Union , in Seattle. Also worth noting: the servers aren't mutes, they just walk that way. And the one we had looked to be an actor paying the bills, with an accent that hinted of Ireland and mannerisms that one might expect in a book about a restaurant. Also, as far as the standard cheese/pasta combo that restaurants endlessly turn out for children tired of chicken nuggets, Union's was one of the best two found in the region of late (Fife in NE Portland also represents). The secret? They put peas in with their (forgot the kind of) noodles. Yum, said the boy, age 9.
Obligatory note: dinner cost a small fortune. The beef was chief, and dessert? Caramel apples from a place up the street in downtown Seattle, and then a gallon of beer at the SeaMonster Lounge in Seattle's Wallingford neighborhood.
