Welcome to Day # 3 of no writing, pixel-peeping or blog posts. Or anything vaguely taxing. I almost can’t believe I made it this far without starting to twitch, or post things on Facebook to make sure I was still alive. My therapist is so proud. I am still surprised.
As luck would have it, the weekend I chose to go AWOL from life-as-I’ve-known-it-for-the-last-2½-years was one of the weekends that Mother Nature decided to shower Seattle with deep blue skies uncluttered with clouds, and round-the-clock heat alerts. Think Savannah in mid-Summer without the humidity. Think incredibly beautiful. Think happy hormones racing through every vein.
Having recognised that if I didn’t stop my world from turning for a while I’d feel compelled to act out my very own version of Thelma & Louise, I hollered at Mini-Me and The Hubs to see if they wanted to join me over a leisurely brunch. Always charming, always entertaining, always lovely – those two make
any every meal better.
A splendidly sparkly day, we headed to Eastlake. I got there early and went for a jaunt down by Lake Union – the boats and the sunlight bobbing playfully on the shimmering blue water. I can’t get within striking distance of a lake and not go gaze at it from as close as I can get. I think the houseboat dwellers on Lake Union must have woken up thinking they live in paradise lately. Seattle is glorious when the sun shines. Every time Mother Nature brings the good stuff to the top left-hand corner, I vow I will never live anywhere else. This was one of those days.
I cannot think of a better way to spend 3 hours of my life than brunching in the sunshine on the terrace at Serafina with two of my favorite people. It’s my new favorite weekend brunch spot. The whole affair was entirely blissful.
The food was taste-bud-explodingly spectacular, the service brilliant. We all agreed that our server was one of the most beautiful women we had ever seen. Not to mention that she had the poise and presence of a Paris fashion model. It was hard not to stare.
30 minutes into our mid-morning reverie a violinist – think Lady Gaga meets Paganini – showed up and serenaded us for the next 2 hours. The cherry on top of our perfect Sunday brunch. I wish I’d paid attention to who he was. I could do with recreating that atmosphere on my own deck. Thank goodness for The Internet.
Prosciutto con Fichi – Prosciutto di Parma with Black Mission figs, shaved endive, arugula and goat cheese; drizzled with aged balsamic – $10.95
Uova Strapazzate con Salmone – House smoked King salmon scramble with crème fraîche and chives; served with farmhouse roasted potatoes, which I subbed out for salad – $14.95
Maiale Brasato – Fennel braised pork with crispy hash browns, sautéed spinach, pork sugo and poached eggs – $15.95
Panino con Pomodori e Uove – Open faced panino on brioche with mozzarella, heirloom tomato jam, basil, and sunny side up eggs; served with a mixed green salad – $13.95
And then…then there was dessert. Sublime Hazelnut Ice Cream. Yes, I really did use the word “sublime” with someone else’s ice cream.
The Hubs could barely control himself when his cake showed up. That Cassis Sorbet was like supping on a frozen shot.
And the filling of this tart had the most extraordinary texture. Completely swoon-worthy – and all those other things I am not supposed to say when writing about food. It made me close my eyes and let out a deep sigh of delight. Is that better?
If you’re going to eat inSANE* desserts, make sure they’re extraordinary. These most definitely were. We’re still reeling.
We are utterly *in love* with Serafina. Why the place wasn’t full to bursting point with giddy, ravenous, food lovers we will likely never know. We’d line up for a chair at one of their tables anytime.
Since I was in Eastlake, I simply had to swing by Honore Bakery for macarons. Well, it’s so close to Eastlake, isn’t it. Relatively speaking :-).
Then it was nap time on the blanket on the lawn with the “kids”, in the still sparkling sunshine. Avec les macarons.
A good book, or two. Some gentle music. Sipping ice-cold Cherry Coke. Slumbering on the couch with a pile of snoozing kitties. Letting happy thoughts drift in and out like gentle waves lapping the edges of a golden shore.
An entirely beautiful day. Worth missing any amount of doing for.
Sometimes you gotta just be.