At the risk of starting some kind of coast-vs-coast blogbath, I’ve got to say that the West Coast rules. The weather is great, the produce is perfection, and I’ve heard that we have girls in bikinis. Big celebrities like Jerry Cantrell and Yanni don’t live here for nothing.

However, the West Coast has a big problem: they don’t sell Pepperidge Farm bread here. Pepperidge Farm bread is basically Wonder Bread, but available in more textures and varieties, such as the mighty Toasting White. Cook’s Illustrated is always calling for Toasting White, with no substitution given. Pampered Boston socialites.

When we lived in New York, we used to buy something even better than Toasting White: Pepperidge Farm Cinnamon Swirl bread. Lots of companies make cinnamon swirl bread, but the key here is that it contained no raisins. Cinnamon raisin bread is okay, but without raisins it’s really something special. I just looked on the P.F. web site, and apparently the slogan for the swirl bread is “Everything Else is Toast”™. Belligerent, perhaps, but so true.

Yesterday I was at QFC and noticed that they shelve certain flavored breads near the English muffins. Among these I saw something that shocked and delighted me: Franz Bainbridge Island Cinnamon Swirl bread. With no raisins. (Many Franz breads are named after places in the Northwest, such as San Juan Island, Cannon Beach, and Hanford Nuclear Waste Cleanup Facility.) It also has a light streusel topping, which can’t hurt.

I brought home the loaf, of course, and we have about four slices left. As I recall, this always happened with the Pepperidge Farm, too. The Franz is just as good. Now the West Coast is back on top, so if you’ve got a beef, let’s settle it Bainbridge Island style, by busting rhymes and flinging slices of toast at each other.

Damn. I wish people actually did that.

I’m at Dilettante prepping for an interview I’m doing this afternoon. Last time I was here I complained about the glass teacups. Today when I ordered my tea, the barista held up a glass mug in one hand and a ceramic mug in the other and gave me the “which do you want?” look. I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t want to be ejected from Dilettante, so I tossed a buck into the tip jar instead. It almost made me feel bad about smuggling in a Mrs. Fields cookie from upstairs.

Hey, do you know why Mrs. Fields cookies are so moist and chewy? I do, because I saw a label stuck on their refrigerator. They’re baked at 260°F for 22 minutes.

What it is about mall food courts? I find them so repulsive and so irresistible at the same time. Actually, it’s just the Westlake Center food court, since I haven’t been to another mall food court in years. Westlake is in downtown Seattle, but it has all the usual things you’d expect at the mall: the steak sandwich place, the steam-table Indian and Thai places, Sbarro, Hot Dog on a Stick, McDonald’s and so on. The McDonald’s always has the longest line. I did see a sign for a banh mi stand coming soon, so I guess some things do change.

Oh, the steak sandwich place reminds me that when I was going to high school in downtown Portland, my friend Brian and I used to have lunch sometimes at the food court at Pioneer Place, Portland’s version of Westlake Center. One day we went to the steak sandwich place (which I think was called The Steak Escape) and they were having a contest to name their new chicken sandwich. Brian submitted an entry: “The 12-inch Pecker.” They ended up calling it “The Grandest Chicken.” There is no justice.

I end up at Westlake more often than I’d like to admit, even though there’s a good falafel place across the street. Partly it’s because they have a Dairy Queen. I was a little nervous when the DQ opened, but I haven’t gone as often as I’d feared. That’s because I’m usually full by the time I finish my plate of noodles from Noodle Zone.

Unlike most of the other places in the food court, Noodle Zone cooks everything to order. Mostly they serve Thai noodle stir-fries and soups, but the place used to be a location of local chain Pasta Ya Gotcha, and the menu still retains an imprint of that unfortunately named restaurant’s menu, in the form of dishes like Penne Taco Sauce. Some of the cooks at Noodle Zone are Thai and some Mexican, and last time I was there I heard a manager calling out things like, “I need a pad see ew para llevar.”

I always get the same thing at Noodle Zone, the daily special. There are only two daily specials, as far as I know (only one is available on any given day). One is stir-fried wide rice noodles with chicken, vegetables, and chile paste. The other is stir-fried wide rice noodles with chicken, vegetables, pineapple, green curry paste, and coconut milk. They’re both good, spicier than you’d expect from the mall, and $6 including tax. I also get a little condiment cup of *prik nam pla*, sliced Thai chiles in fish sauce.

Then I grab a seat by the window, overlooking Westlake Park, and try to pretend I’m not hanging at the mall.

**Noodle Zone**
Westlake Center
(206) 652-9731

Sitting on the standalone cabinet that we affectionately call the root cellar were two ingredients: a bag of Kroger dried egg noodles and a box of Diamond Crystal kosher salt. Each has a recipe on the back.

The egg noodles have a recipe for Chicken Noodle Dinner. It has seven ingredients and takes about 45 minutes.

The kosher salt has a recipe for Beet-Cured Gravlax Ravioli Stuffed with Avocado Mousse. It has eleven ingredients and takes three days.

I guess this is what you get when you tell the recipe team to come up with something that will use half a box of salt.

Sorry for the lapse. I’m working on a big post about noodles. In the meantime…

We’re almost out of canola oil.

The better I get at cooking, the longer it takes me to go through a bottle of canola oil. It’s not because I’m cooking light: it’s because when I reach for an oil or fat, I’m more likely to choose something with flavor. I keep the canola in the fridge so it doesn’t go rancid before I’ve used all 32 ounces.

Sometimes a flavorless cooking oil is exactly what you want, although nothing besides brownie mix is coming to mind. Most often, though, I’ll reach for olive oil when I’m cooking Italian; peanut oil for Chinese and Thai; lard for frying potatoes and many other things; and butter for everything else.

Has anyone else noticed this? Also, sometimes I hear people talk about the flavor differences between supposedly flavorless oils like canola, corn, sunflower, and soybean. To me, however, the refined versions of these oils that you find in the supermarket really are indistinguishable. I buy canola not because it’s rich in monounsaturated fat, but because that’s what Ming Tsai used to use on _East Meets West_.