Belltown Bent

His spirit in our place

Ron Bunnell makes wine. He classifies them as either Vins de l'esprit (wines of the creative spirit), or Vins de l'endroit (wines of a place). When Ron dropped by the Bent on Friday, and, smiling, asked if we'd like to taste a few, we said, yes (oui) and yes (oui, oui).

After a decade-and-a-half making wine and paying dues in California, including a stints at Beringer and as director of Kendall-Jackson's Syrah program, Ron took on the task of guiding Chateau Ste. Michelle's red wine program in 1999. Today he is flying his own flag, and is introducing the first releases from Bunnell Family Cellars.

The focus is on Syrah and other Rhone varietals, but there is room in his cellar, and imagination, to explore other varieties which have been introduced to Washington. We focused on one of three vineyard-specific Syrahs, the luscious 2004 Horse Heaven Hills (what a place), and the provocative 2004 "Vif", a proprietary blend of Rhone varietals (creative, spirited, yummy).

At the Bent, we do the tasting and leave the tasting notes to others. But, take note of this - in the spirit of supply-and-demand, you can only get Bunnell Family Cellars wines from their place. It's going fast.

Destination dining

When two guys are this happy, while working hard delivering a great dining experience to a comfortably buzzing full-house on a Saturday night, you know something good is going on.

The Bent blew out of Belltown on the 5:35 to Bainbridge Island for a 6:30 reso at madoka, the new offering from co-owners chef Alvin Binuya and manager José Gonzales. Just a few minutes and one left turn after docking, we were sipping our cocktails and gazing longingly at every item on Binuya's pan-Pacific menu, wondering how many we could possibly sample before catching the 8:55 back to Pier 52.

Alvin, whose culinary skills are highly regarded in Belltown and beyond, and José, long respected for his front-of-the-house mastery, go way back. One year ago they decided to partner up and launch madoka, Japanese for "perfect circle", and they've been making people happy ever since. We're happy to have found the perfect circle route to fine food. See you on the ferry.

Mending the food chain

Balancing is required when he works his salmon net in the Elliott Bay fishery. Balancing the time spent at and away from the net. And, balancing as he leans out over his launch to mend the net.  The net torn by the sea lion from California.

While mending the net, he opportunistically harvests newly arrived fish. The sea lion waits for him to leave, hungry from having spent much of the summer mating (with up to 16 females) - not to mention fasting - down in the warm waters of Baja, California.

Of course, this is the fisherman's livelihood, and the sea lion is "biting" into his take. But he's cool with that. "After all," he said when asked about the feasting visitor, "they're his salmon, too."

Hitting the tribal buffet

While they don't actually drink (they get their water from their food), California sea lions are certainly opportunistic eaters. This guy ranges up each fall, probably from southern California, to dine on Puget Sound's finest. Today's special is Chinook salmon, passing through Elliott Bay in their attempt to spawn.

This week's opportunity is a gill net strung from the sea wall just north of Pier 70. The Muckleshoot tribe member who tends the net is exercising his right to fish his ancestral grounds, granted in 1854 by Washington's first governor, Isaac Stevens, and reaffirmed by U.S. District Judge George Boldt's decision in 1974.

By the end of each day, the fisherman and the sea lion split the catch, their shares based on the luck of the salmon and the timing of their visits.

 

Not your father's B.L.T.

No, this is a Flying Fish B.L.T. Make that a C.A.B.L.T. Crab, avocado, bacon, lettuce and tomato, perfectly blended and ready to spread on freshly baked brioche toast points.

This is the dish I chose for lunch at Flying Fish. Of course this meant I wasn't going to be eating all the other unique, delectable offerings. But my sacrifices were quickly forgotten with every, increasingly smaller, bite. Each followed by a sip a Patricia Green's '04 crisp, fresh gooseberry and grass infused Sauvignon Blanc, confidently endorsed by a busy Brian Huse, manager and wine director.

But then again, maybe your father has had lunch in Belltown.

Paradise on a patio

Ray's Boathouse Cafe is surely a little slice of heaven. Scrumptious food, generous beverages, blissed out guests, and a panoramic view of an active Puget Sound, backed by the dramatic horizon of the Olympic Mountains.

Soaring eagles, curious harbor seals, and a never ending procession of working and pleasure boats all compete with conversation and cuisine for attention. Really, I couldn't make this up.

This entry could easily be categorized as "Travel" - it's only 5.6 miles away, but we always feel like we're on vacation when we go there. Or, it could have been "Periphery" because, even though we all share a Seattle address, it's Ballard that deserves bragging rights for Ray's, not Belltown.