Musings from a Seattle personal chef
Archive for the 'Train to Eat' Category
This coming Saturday my darling and I will embark on our longest training run — a full 26.2 miles — in preparation for the Marathon du Medoc. We’ll start at our home near Greenlake, wind north through the neighborhood and down to Golden Gardens, head along Shilshole to the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks, cross over to Commodore Park, head south along the train tracks to Myrtle Edwards, continue along the waterfront to Jackson where we’ll head east to Lake Washington Blvd. We’ll continue along the boulevard, hopefully catching glimpses of the Blue Angels. We’ll then head up Madison to the arboretum, then over to UW, where we’ll pick up the Burke-Gilman trail. Cut through Cowen Park, then make our way back to Greenlake. Run around the north end, then stumble our way back home.
So, WHY is this relevant to a food blog? Well, I determined over a month ago what we’ll enjoy for our victory lunch: lobster rolls! The one problem — you can’t find traditional New England-style rolls here on the west coast. They’re the ones that are split at the top, with flat sides for grilling. But fortunately a quick call to Mom and Dad rectified the situation, and here’s what landed on my doorstep yesterday:
I’ll be sure to let you know how they turned out!
Ever since our Thanksgiving in Whistler my darling has been jonesing for ski time. An avid skier since he was a toddler, he revels in pirouetting down the slopes — the steeper the better. But lest you think him a ski prima donna, he skis on the oldest, crappiest equipment he can find (although he did have to replace his $3 yard sale Caper boots he bought in 1987 as they finally bit the dust, er, snow, in Whistler. He’s still debating whether to replace his 20+ year-old Spalding skis. Yes, Spalding. You know, the manufacturer of basketballs, baseballs, soccer balls and volleyballs).
While I’m quick to wrangle him for a run — the longer the better — when it comes to skiing I’m a wuss. I learned to ski late in life, so I never developed a true love for the sport. Besides, the last time I was at Whistler I was dragged off the mountain with a broken ankle (sliding head-first down the slopes on a ski patrol sled is not an experience I care to revisit). Broken limbs = loss of income; NOT a good way to start off the New Year.
Today was my first real attempt at open water swimming in preparation for my first triathlon. I survived, but it’s obvious I need more practice if I’m to swim a 1/2 mile by September 10.
The smartest thing I did: I signed up for the open water clinic through Mary Meyer Life Fitness.
The dumbest thing I did: I waited until today — the culmination of SEAFAIR — to take the clinic.
On this last weekend of SEAFAIR, the Blue Angels perform aeronautic acrobatical feats while the hydroplanes attempt not to (frequently without success). Both are cheered on by drunken boating enthusiasts who choke up Lake Washington with exhaust and ribaldry. Our clinic was smack dab in the middle of these festivities, so any hope of smooth, calm swimming was quickly dashed. Our coaches kept stressing that if we could swim in THOSE conditions, our race day swimming experience would be gravy. I certainly hope so, as I need to be able to swim THREE TIMES the distance I did today.
On a bright note, I’ve discovered that sushi — lots and lots of it — is the perfect post-swim meal.