Piroshky Piroshky UPDATE - Seattle, WA

When I think of my Seattle trip all those years ago, PIroshky always comes to mind.  It was a whirlwind of Russian rolls, both savory and sweet, with such perfect pastry crusts and wrappers.

I jumped at the chance to pick them up from a Playa parking lot last week, hoping to revisit Seattle in my stomach. The nostalgia didn't disappoint, but the pies themselves sure did. The packing job was poor, some a little squished from the weight of the ice packs, flimsy paper bags failing covering pies getting soggy with melting condensation. 

They do heat up well enough, but the oven temp and time they give you leaves the center cold. It's a battle to calibrate, and I only have so many pies to mess with. 

My favorite is the seasonal Swedish Meatball. It has big, tender meatballs in every bite, and every bite is awesome. 

Smoked Salmon Pate was smoky, a flaky fish with a balanced cream cheese to stick it together, but not so much that it's cheesy.  

The Moscow Roll is unusual, in the best possible way. Cream of wheat adds texture and dilutes the bavarian cream. Makes it a little more interesting. 

Apple Cinnamon is one you'd recognize. A run-of-the-mill roll with Granny Smiths sticking out. I like the tart twist, and it's a lovely classic.

Beef & Cheese is a dense one, a savory starter if you're looking for a meal. It's a brick of ground beef, heavy on the onion. I like it, but not everybody would agree.

The Cinnamon Cardamom Braid tastes as pretty as it looks. Cardamom adds an earthy aroma and spices up the citrus. 

Chocolate Cream Hazelnut is so delicious, buttery-sweet like a pudding in solid form. 

I'm still a sucker for their Rhubarb. Sweet and tart like strawberry, it's hand pie with extra crust. 

Nothing is better than getting your piroshky hot and fresh, and delivery, especially the way they pack it, puts a real damper on these delicious things. I still love this place because I've seen what they can do under the right condition, but next time I get Piroshky, I'll do it in Seattle.

Sushi Kashiba - Seattle

Avoided all the raw fish while at sea, and for that my stomach thanks me. But I landed with a sushi craving that makes addiction look mild, and Sushi Kashiba is just the kitchen to feed my fancy.

After a whole day of exploring Seattle, my appetite hits The Peak, a point higher than the Space Needle by the time we arrive at Sushi Kashiba. The line for the bar is too long, so I settle for that prix fixe Peak dinner and a table on the patio.

Everything went south from here. I couldn't quite catch the name of my first appetizer no matter many times my server repeated it. It sounded something like O-toshi and tasted just as confusing. Freshwater eel on a date? Ummm... What??? Both are sweet, but the sweet-sweet overpowers the savory-sweet, and the combination is sickening. 

The kitchen's version of Ceviche is an even bigger fail, a plate of what looks like the scraps they cut off the sushi fish, pieces that are no longer fresh enough to serve. Each piece was crudely hacked, and several tasted unnaturally fishy, like tuna in a can. I usually love ceviche, but this one felt so wrong.

I was relieved when the sushi arrived, but disappointment was imminent as my teeth sank into the Flounder. This one is expectedly pure and smooth, but not much of a stand-out.

The Madai, or Sea Bream is softer and sweeter, with a fine, flaky edge that falls a little flat.

Toro spreads it's sticky granules of fat luxuriously across the tongue. The texture and flavor of this piece are infallible, but still, I've had better.

By the fourth piece, I'm realizing that the problem is the rice. The vinegar is barely detectable, and this lackluster Bincho, (Albacore Tuna) needs all the boost it can get.

The Akami brings on the bold sophistication of Lean Tuna, a denser, fleshy, meaty piece that pops... a little.

The Maguro Zuke, or the Marinated Tuna is similarly sophisticated with a salty, hard edge of soy.

The King Salmon slides down, sweet and smooth. It's hard to mess up a good cut of salmon, and this one is A-ok.

The Hamachi is another A-ok. The texture is in soft, blended shreds, comfortably confident.

The Scallop is cool and sweet as it breaks apart with minimal chews. Standard and generic.

The Amebi is as sweet as its name would claim, a solid yet slightly viscous texture that teases the tongue as it lingers, dragging all the flavor down. The deep fried head is the best part, crunchy and brainy, with a taste like a stronger roe.

Aburi Toro. Toro. Tingly, tantalizing, so melty it tastes sexy TORO. A repeat from the first plate but one I'd gladly have over and over, again and again. Except this one is seared. COOKED. WHY??? I want to cry as the solid, a waste of soft, scintillating belly, gives way to the magnificent middle.

Then there are two pieces of roll, squished together like woe, exiled to the corner of the plate. A side tangent, a thoughtless filler, two pieces of rice encasing fish that I can't even taste.

The Uni. Finally, the uni. I saved the best for last. I've waiting so long for it... Only to have it served in a sloppy pile on an inconveniently-shaped spoon, collapsing under the weight of so much wasabi. I had to scrape off most of the green stuff for fear of burning my mouth.

At least the Tamago and Miso Soup took the edge off at the end. The egg is perfect and shrimpy-sweet, and the soup is an emolliating digestif. At least they still know how to cook an egg.

It's been a while since I've had good sushi, so when I heard that Shiro, student of Jiro set up shop in Seattle, I just had to go. So much anticipation, such a set-up. But what? What is this? This lackluster, impersonal plate of higher-end, cranked-off-a-conveyer-belt sushi? I don't know who made my sushi that night, but I sure hope it wasn't Shiro.

Piroshky Piroshky - Seattle

Off the cruise ship and onto the streets of Seattle. Not traditionally a food capital, but definitely rising in the ranks.

The food adventure begins at Pike Place Market because the first thing I want is something that isn't processed, mashed, or made into compote in a corporate, cruise-ship kitchen.

I would kill for a Fresh Rhubarb pie, and I can smell the dough baking from 20 feet away. No bloodshed required, but the line will try your patience at the ever-popular Piroshky Piroshky. The golden, baked-this-morning, hand-pie crusts are a sight for sore cruise-eyes, and this square of fresh rhubarb is to-die-for, with a filling of sweet cream accented by a pulpy tang.

Steam is still rising from the Potato and Cheese as I claw it open. The potato is soft and salty, a baked potato in a half-moon pastry; firm cheddar topped with a fresh breath of dill.

The best-selling Beef and Cheese is a baked bowl of salt n' pepper ground beef sprinkled with more yellow-melt. It's basically a beefaroni-cheeseburger, Russian style.

The Smoked Salmon Pate is oblong with a mid-line suture and a whimsical fishtail that barely holds back the ample belly of finely-chopped salmon flakes. The blend of woodsy smoked salmon with a modest cream cheese paste enriches the smoldering flavor and turns the flaky texture luxurious.

Piroshky Piroshky, small pies small pies, with crusts that leave a lingering impression and fillings that are hard to forget. So what if I didn't see Russia from anyone's Alaskan house; at least I got to taste Russia from Pike Place.