Results tagged “thefrench”

We’ve watched every Super Bowl since XXII.

Spokane's Wooly Pigs is on a mission to bring sustainably-grown Euro-style bacon (and other cuts) to American tables -- and more importantly for us, to Seattle plates.

No question about it: there's too much Bordeaux on the market. The answer: find new ways to sell it. Howard Goldberg, who once wrote for the NewYork Times, thinks the answer is for Bordeaux estates to sell shrink-wrapped, powdered wine, which could be reconstituted (with designer water, to be sure) into vino. Great idea, Howard; we'll get back to you.

For once, it was actually nice weather at the Gorge for Sasquatch. Last year was all sturm und drang and the year previous was approximately the temperature of the sun, but the gods smiled down on all gathered in George, Washington yesterday afternoon, as it was a pleasant 80 degrees under partly cloudy skies.

We’ve already sung the praises of the $3.00 meal at Saigon Vietnam Deli, which has also been our favorite place for banh mi sandwiches—specifically the banh mi thit nuong, or barbecued pork. So when we heard rave reviews of said sandwiches at a heretofore overlooked alternative (or HOA, not to be confused with the Chinese Vietnamese "Hoa"), we raced to Spring Roll House Deli to check them out.

The French Kicks are a band we listened to several years ago, when we consumed with authority anything that remotely reminded us of Tortoise, but we entered Neumo's Tuesday night predisposed to absolutely hate them and anyone who was at the show. Pitchfork has turned on The French Kicks bigtime, and since we're kind of a follower we swallowed every word of it.

A: A night in Seattle, having some drinks, and listening to live music that doesn't blow ass.

Brits call them chips, we 'Merkins call them fries, those potato sticks cooked in oil. Cooked twice, in fact. They used to be called French fries, until three years ago, when the perfidious, cheese-eating French surrender monkeys refused to line up for our scrimmage against Saddam, the much-derided "Coalition of the Willing." The French honorific was purged, Stalin-style, from the cafeteria menu at the House of Representatives and the potatoes rechristened Freedom Fries. Orwell himself could not have imagined a better outcome.

Taittinger Champagne toasts this week in the Spanish Ballroom of the Fairmont Olympic. The French ambassador, His Excellency Jean-David Levitte, was in town to attend the 20th anniversary gala of the French-American Chamber of Commerce and used the occasion to describe the state of French American relations after two centuries: Lafayette, Pershing, Normandy, Iraq.