Last night we braved an actual Seattle rainstorm and dined at Wild Ginger. Contrary to popular (right coast) belief, local residents do not live in a state of persistent denial about their meteorological milieu. Our arrival at Sea-Tac was during a period of liquid sunshine, but our even hosts agreed, as we left for dinner, that it was raining. We parked in the public parking lot at Target, put the hatchling in his all-terrain manually-motivated vehicle, emplaced the liquid sunshine proof plastic bubble, and trudged uphill to dinner. (Note for further exploration: Why is everything in Seattle uphill from wherever you are?)

 Crossing the threshold, we were confronted by an impressive reservations desk personned by two young women who, at the sight of the hatchling, went into instantaneous warm welcome mode. The hatchling was removed from his atmmv, it was wiped down with a dry towel and then parked out of sight. We were escorted through a large, well-designed two story space to a comfortable “boothette” (my description of a table with benches on either side where the benches are shared back to back with neighboring tables). The hatchling was seated at the end of the table in a highchair.  The rest of us sat on the very comfortable padded benches with plenty of room.

 Wild Ginger is a Seattle Asian fusion restaurant – which means I shouldn’t have been surprised by the presentation of an extensive, affordable and interesting wine menu. West coast wines from both California and Oregon, nicely organized by varietal, then vineyard, then year were complemented by interesting Italian and German offerings with enough good French bottles to satisfy even a Europhile. We chose a Raptor Ridge 2010 Pinot Noir which was prominently featured among the evening’s specials. The wine was just as good as I remembered it from our visit to Oregon last August. Cassis and darker fruits predominated, with tannins that moved from slightly sharp when the bottle was first opened to liquid silk as the air did its work.

 The menu is inclined to Chinese and Malay (as opposed to Japanese, Vietnamese, Korean – though some dishes sounded very Korean-inspired) on the Asian side of the fusion. The ingredients include some very non-Asian items – and let this be a gentle warning, peanuts are profoundly present. We shared several small plate appetizers – perfect little oysters wrapped in bacon and satayed (is that the word to describe the use of a small bamboo skewer for cooking?), short ribs also skewered and served with a lemon-based dipping sauce, and a third satay of scallops with a soy and black vinegar dipping sauce. Each of the satays was presented with small rounds of cooked cucumber and carrot shreds – the hatchling loved the roundnesses – and devoured them with a giggle. I think that was all for the initial set of dishes but my aging memory may be failing me. Sadly, our waitress’ much, much younger memory failed – the anticipated potstickers were lost somewhere between our intentions and the table (no harm, and she more than made up for it later). 

 The main courses were, in  a word, WONDERFUL! Wild Ginger makes a fragrant duck unlike any other in the world. Perfect rice buns surround a duck which has been rubbed with star anise and ginger (and, I suspect a bit of cardamom) then roasted and sliced into bun-sized pieces served on a bed greens. The traditional (for Peking duck) bean paste applied with a scallion brush has been foregone for a plum, black vinegar and coarse black salt dipping sauce. The hatchling got his own plate of rice buns, which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy – both as food and demonstrations of gravity at work. Sweet and sour pork was a classic balance playing both sides of my tongue like few dishes have in recent memory. Lamb chops (a special) were spectacular – grilled to medium rare with a ginger and plum glaze, sprinkled with peanuts and sesame seeds. Knives were provided for the fastidious, but talons (or fingers in the case of humans) and teeth were encouraged by the waitress. 

Let’s pause a moment before continuing to dessert. Nothing in the universe can save a bad kitchen, but, as I commented when talking about X20, nothing can kill a great kitchen faster than bad staffing. Our waitress made an outstanding dinner extraordinary. She went to great lengths to make the hatchling’s parents feel that the hatchling’s presence at a serious dinner table (and make no mistake, Wild Ginger is  very serious gastronomy) was completely welcome and natural. Her playful attitude towards his gravitational experiments provoked smiles all the way around – and her attempt to try on his parka after he offered it to her was a classic. Better still, she reviewed our choices both for diversity of flavors and order quantity – making sure we had enough, but fulfilling our intent to taste a wide variety. When one of the hatchling’s parent mentioned a peanut allergy, she made a note to tell the kitchen that peanuts were not to be used in any of the dishes. When the lamb chops arrived sprinkled with peanuts, she went back to the kitchen and returned with a chop prepared peanut-free, and made us feel that it was a pleasure to do so. She was knowledgable, enthusiastic and conscientious. The undelivered potstickers were compensated for by her gracious, unexpected and completely unnecessary offer of dessert on her. 

Dessert is not exactly an Asian food tradition. On the other hand, most of the dishes on the menu have almost nothing to do with mainstream Asian food realities and available ingredients – I think that may be the point of “fusion”. In any case, dishes of mango sorbet, coconut gelato and ginger ice cream completed the meal at our waitress’ suggestion. The mango sorbet was great; nice flavor, perfect texture, soothing to the palate. The ginger ice cream was flecked with shreds of ginger; it provided a sharp edge of flavor that removed any lingering traces of grease from the tongue. The piece de resistance was the coconut gelato – an absolute “must order”. Creamy, real coconut morsels in a rich gelato. It teetered on the edge of overpowering the Tokai suggested as an spiritual companion, but never fell. 

 As Nero Wolfe, my gourmet hero and favorite detective would have said, “Most satisfactory.”