Origin Story

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Moving Up from the Underground

In a tiny Seattle neighborhood, in a tiny neighborhood bistro, stands a tiny bistro kitchen, with walls as orange as the yolk of a pastured hen’s egg…

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A Fair Worth Fighting For

Return to King County’s roots with chicken tractors and baking contests..

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The Logistical Link

Efren Torres plays a small but essential role at Washington State‘s largest hungry relief agency,..

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Fiesty Fried Chicken

Imagine the tallest Japanese woman you’ve ever seen (almost six feet tall in socks)…

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Books

Great barbecue doesn’t just happen. Time and temperature, cut of meat, rubs and sauces—there are a lot of variables to sort through on your way to greatness…

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Urban Foraging: Green Coffee Beans

These days, the word “green” shows up more frequently as shorthand for “environmentally responsible” than it does as one of its other synonyms…

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Urban Foraging: Skagit Fresh Sparkling Juices

There are a lot of products that claim to duplicate the flavor of berries. Almost all of them fall under the “don’t bother” category,..

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Urban Foraging: Après Vin

For a dedicated Puget Sound locavore, oil is an ingredient that presents you with a simple choice: Stick with butter, or sigh, and resign yourself to a permanently less-than-perfect score…

Yakima Valley Grown Goodness

The Yakima Valley has a long history of growing food. Wine grapes were first planted there in 1869, hops in 1872, and fruit orchards in 1887. With nearly constant sunshine (around 300 days per year), rich volcanic soils, and steady water from the Yakima River, the valley currently produces 75 percent of the country’s hops, more than 30 types of wine (from 100 percent varietals to blends), and multiple varieties of more than 50 fruit and vegetable crops…

A Juicy Kind of Love – Melons

When I was a little girl, I briefly wanted to marry a cantaloupe. The love affair began with my father’s silly knock-knock joke involving a kid-friendly punch-line: “I can’t elope tonight, my father took the ladder,” and ever since then I was hooked. My parents gave us kids free rein in the kitchen, and I had the freedom to fry my own bacon, make pudding (thanks My T Fine!) and wield razor-sharp knives to slice cantaloupe, which I ate by the pound. I loved cantaloupe so much that I snubbed honeydew melons when my mom first brought them home. It felt like I was cheating…

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