On Edible Art, an Introduction, Part the Second
by The Phantom
For example, on Saturday last, as the morning sun approached its vertex in the crisp blue sky to the south, a soupçon lower than it had peaked the day prior, indicating to those who pay attention to the signs that the summer season is slipping inexorably toward autumn, the Phantom decided that it was a fine day to enjoy a perambulation into town.
Winding block to block, this way then that, observing the turning of the leaves and sampling the sweetness of the blackberries in hedgerows and Italian plums and pears and apples that offered themselves to passersby from their branches, the Phantom arrived in due course at that harsh, barren landscape of Brutalist soviet architecture the East Plaza of the Capitol Campus. Yet even here, in this wasteland, the Phantom was pleased to find life: flowers still in bloom, children at play, adolescent rabbits busily scurrying about. The Phantom recalled fondly attending performances, presented right there in the heart of that stark monument to statist functionality, selected works of the great Bard himself.
From there, moving down the hill toward the village, the Phantom first encountered our lovely new-ish Cuban café, the sunny and musical Mi Luna. Next, it took a measure of will to resist entering Wagner’s European Bakery, where cases full of colorful pastries threaten to overpower all resistance.
On the next block the Phantom peered briefly through the windows of the tidy Streets of Singapore. Having not sampled their offerings but having heard very good reports, the Phantom made a silent vow to return. Future down the hill came the clever Bus Stop (“The Modern Way to Travel”), and the enticing adobo aromas wafting from the doors of Don de la Colombiana.
The next block, from 5th Avenue to Legion Way, is the chock-o’-block block at the heart of Olympia’s restaurant scene. Restaurant Row. The Phantom was delighted to find there, offering warm greetings to all as he so ofter does, the always exuberant David Huynh. He stood in front of his wonder bánh mì store, the Nom Nom Deli, home of both wonderful Vietnamese sandwiches as well as blue-ribbon winner of every best motto contest (“I got this belly at the Nom Nom Deli!”) On that same block is the quietly elegant and excellent Italian Basillico, the energetic Uptown Grill with its creative menu items, and Pizzeria La Gitana, where that simple workman’s staple, the Neapolitan pizza, is elevated to an experience approaching fine dining.
Two blocks further is an entire building, the 222 Market, utterly occupied by culinary creatives, anchored by two eminences of Olympia restaurants: The Bread Peddler and Chelsea Farms Oyster Bar. Of these establishments the Phantom has much to say, but it must wait, because we have not reached our destination for the day.
At the foot of Capitol Way sits, of course, the Olympia Farmers Market. Setting aside the wonderful dining establishments we passed, and others throughout the area, where guests are immersed in a sensory totality of the culinary experience, we find here in the market a veritable artists colony of food product creators. Their products are available to the public, offered for mere pennies. Hundreds of pennies, perhaps, but pennies nonetheless.
Within the marché, we begin, as human history perhaps does, with bread. (Or was it beer?) At the center of the market the visitor finds a stall of the jewel in the crown of the upper Eastside, the San Franciso Street Bakery. Nearby is the venerable hearth of the Westside, the healthy Blue Heron. A short walk away are the selected offerings of the aforementioned Bread Peddler, home of perhaps the finest and most authentic baguettes in the region. Wagner’s brings a selection of its pastries to tempt those who stroll by. Also to be found, while not a baked good per se, are the lovely creations of Kawaii Donut House. There is even a baker who caters exclusively to our canine friends, the Crossed Paws Bakery.
Wandering among the stalls, we find alchemists of the mysterious art of fermentation, such as the Olympia Pickling Company, offering pickles and relishes found nowhere else, as well as Wild Hearth Sipping Vinegars. The Phantom must note, with fondness, that OlyKraut is no longer but is remembered and hoped to return.
In other corners of the market there are makers of jams and jellies, like Burnt Ridge Nursery and Orchards, and Johnson’s Berry Farm, where, in addition to seasonal crops of same-day fresh berries, the mad genius Jim Johnson has created upwards of a hundred varieties of jams, jellies and syrups. (The Phantom confesses a weakness for the Raspberry Lemon Tart Jam.)
And then we are blessed to have the cheesemakers among us, as well as, it must be noted, makers of all manner of dairy products. Among these we have the excellent products of TUNaWERTH Creamery, of Oakville, and Domina Dairy, of Onalaska.
There is of course much more in this cornucopia of culinary art to be found at the farmers market, as there is throughout the area. We have not even scratched the surface on this short stroll of barely a mile along a single road. There is much more to see, to hear, to smell, to taste.
The Phantom will leave you here, dear reader, and we shall continue our explorations when next we meet. When we do, we shall bring our examination on much, much closer to the object of our interest. Until then, dear reader, enjoy every bite. Every day is a holiday.