Fishing With Dynamite - Manhattan Beach

From the shores of Seattle, back to the LA lights. And just in time for Restaurant Week. I love this two-week, twice-a-year tizzy where restauranteurs drive themselves crazy creating theoretically-sound three-course deal-meals, baiting the hook for frugal foodies.

Fishing With Dynamite cast a lure, and they reeled me in so quickly, I made the reservation almost a month in advance. Any item is a steal at $25 there, and their lunch menu looked legit.

The Raw Bar Platter starts things off right with a shellfish trio. The Malpeque Oysters are slightly briny but smooth and light, the Peruvian scallops swim in a pond of lime, and the Jumbo Shrimp are crusty with an ice-cold coat of rock salt.

The Hamachi is seamless, tender spices in creamy avocado and tangy ponzu.

Why choose one crab entree when you can have two? The first one, the Maryland Blue Crab Cake is full of shredded meat with just a dust of crispy crumbs. There is a red, chili-like something on the mix that gives it a some spice. The in-house dill pickles are a welcome break from the heavy remoulade and are among the best pickles I've had.

Same crab, different style. The Softshell Maryland Blue Crab fans its legs over a sprawling bed of red bliss potatoes. The legs are better than the middle, but all the crab is good. Even the salad is minimalistically impressive, perfect potatoes with a cool, refreshing dusting of aioli.

Go crab or go home! But first there is dessert. The Whoopie Ice Cream Pie is a glorified sandwich; no complaints about strawberry ice cream between a couple of cake-like cookies.

Then there was the Key Lime Pie that changed my life. The graham cracker crust is crumbly but firm, cupping a crisp, tart filling topped with the softest peaks of mesmerizing meringue.

I didn't expect such a tiny space for a place that's larger than life. I admired Fishing With Dynamite from afar for so long, and now I'm finally able to sample some simplicity and get a taste of some things truly great. You can rarely rate a restaurant accurately by what they serve during Restaurant Week, but I do like what I'm seeing here.

Canlis - Seattle

I walk in on crisp linens, a complimentary valet who doesn't need a ticket to remember my car, a breathtaking view, and a meticulous staff. Canlis comes highly recommended, declared to be "a restaurant that SHOULD have a Michelin Star." Michelin doesn't go to Seattle, and before I even sit down, I can see that Michelin is the one who's missing out.

Such attention to detail stretches through the kitchen, some of it shining through this teaser of an Amuse Bouche. A crunchy, earthy buckwheat cigar houses a velvety black bean puree in creme fraiche, sprinkled with a subtle matcha sandstorm.

The menu actually looked too good to do the tasting...Wow, that has never happened before.

A silvery Foie Gras melts atop a perfect slip of grainy cornbread, confirming the correctness of my choice, and the corn-pudding-blackberry-compote literally takes my breath away.

Oysters rest on a shivering bed of ice, only to spring to life under a dash of red wine mignonette.

The Steak Tartare is wagyu, a foolproof, fail-proof cut, symbol of a chef who won't risk his career on anything inferior. This wagyu is like no wagyu I've ever had. Beefy savor swells when surrounded by stone ground mustard, and there is a fresh, raw egg yolk that glues it all together.

From raw to cooked, the Filet Mignon is a logical, seamless transition. The medium-medium-rare is cooked to order, and the meat has aged better than an Asian grandma. The sideshow of juicy morel and chanterelle mushrooms in spinach puree could be a dish of its own.

The Dry-Aged Duck is aged like a steak, and those 28 days enhance the flavor 28 thousand times over. The dark breast weighs heavy and gamey, with a bold bang of cellar smoke. It sinks like a rock, a meteoric flavor-feast. The skin is the best part, crispy and chewy with the texture of a dried pork-skin leather. The duck could easily be a standalone dish, but holy moly, what a mole! The sweet beet mole spreads luxuriously and briefly across the tongue, until unexpectedly, a hot flash of spice dances staccato, a cha-cha that frames the flavors from a slightly different angle.

The pleasure was too much, but alas, there was one more course. In a day and age when restaurant owners eschew the tradition of dessert for flashier apps and mains, the Grand Marnier Soufflé stands fluffy as a cumulus cloud; an eggy, melty delight, sweetened by the drizzle of creme anglaise.

To my dismay, my evening ends. But there is parting gift to soften my sadness. A Smoked S'more Macaron smolders with campfire coals, and an Earl Grey Macaron is a light sip of something sweet.

My car is already waiting when I push back my chair for a reluctant departure. As I drive away, I reflect on my experience at Canlis. I think about how this restaurant so perfectly captures the spirit of Seattle and bottles it into one exquisite meal. Seattle is all about vision, and Canlis is the Chihuly of cuisine. The beauty of one man's vision brought to life, the power of a dream on a plate.

Seattle, you are one fantastic city. Until next time, Canlis... because I will make sure I see you again.

Rachel's Ginger Beer - Seattle

I might be the only Asian in the world who doesn't like ginger, but I think part of growing older is learning to tolerate and eventually appreciate the things you can't like; for example, celery... Walmart and all the crazy people who shop there... and the Olsen twins.

But unlike all of the above, Rachel's makes a cool, refreshing swig of sharp, delightfully bitter carbonation on ice. The Mango-Mate Ginger Beer starts with biting ginger, which mixes with earthy mate, and the bitters neutralize each other as a hint of spicy mango makes its mark. A breath of fresh air without being overwhelming, subtle yet hard-hitting, and probably the best drink I've had in Seattle.

I can proudly say that I went to Seattle without ever visiting a single Starbucks. Sure, I walked by the first, and yeah, I snapped a picture or two, but liquid burnt beans are hardly Seattle's finest drink. Rachel's ginger beer, however, is probably pretty high up.

Serious Pie - Seattle

The EMP Museum is quite impressive. So many movie props and quite the guitar collection, and there's even an exhibit dedicated to the Seattle icon Nirvana.

The EMP Museum is probably one of the most interesting I've ever visited, and pop culture is a natural transition to culinary culture...okay, fine, walking around the museum made me hungry.

Then again, considering all the recs I got for Serious Pie, Tom Douglas himself should probably count as a tourist attraction. I mean, the man is no Space Needle, but the height of his fame is pretty close, and his restaurants have left a legacy that put Seattle on the foodies' map.

I took my visit to Serious Pie very seriously, especially given the scrutiny faced by the Capitol Hill location in light of its shared space with Starbucks. I started where all tourists do, with the Mushroom Pizza, also known as the best thing Tyler Florence ever ate. And wow. WOW. There is a reason famous things are famous and attractions are attractive. This perfect thin-crust pie is piled with woodsy, mossy morels and savory, salivating criminis that are so perfectly roasted, they deserve a display case. Alas, the dreaded truffle oil is there, but for once, I don't hate it, not at all. The cheese dilutes the oil and softens the sting, making way for a hint of real truffle to pop through.

I was only going to order one pizza, but I was so blown away I had to have another. Tradition came next, in the form of an infallible Sweet Fennel Sausage pizza, sweeter still with roasted peppers and strings of provolone that pull and stretch as you take big bites. The toppings are a recipe for sure success, but it's the sauce that steals the show. Tangy yet sweet tomato, rich but subtle, just enough to highlight the toppings and showcase the crust.

I'll admit it was pretty unsettling to look for the roped-off area after walking into a ritzy Starbucks, but there is a legit wood-burning oven right behind the bar, and they served some of the best pizza I've had on the west coast. I think most people are put off by this location, but I wouldn't write this one off.