After a pleasant first meeting with Punki (every bit
as charming in person as on the board) and her employee
Brendan or Brandon, whom she had come to the airport
to fetch, I was off to Spokane.

As with Oakland, "there's no there there" in the
words of Gertrude Stein. Nonetheless, it might be
a good location for a FT gathering: it really is
a pretty little city; the natives are friendly
(and inordinately proud of their home), and the
lack of distraction might focus things and make
it a very cohesive party.

There is a Spokane wine tour, which people
might be interested in - I went to Caterina,
which is right near Riverfront Park and
easily accessible by foot or 25c shuttle trolley.
The Chardonnay I'd tried before: quite fruity
and rather gently oaked. Concentrated on their
three reds: the 1997 Cab, which despite a touch
of that cedar austerity was a quite accessible
drink. Surprisingly the Merlot of that year was
a big wine, not yet ready to drink: good fruit
and a lot of acid promised a few years' good
aging potential, though. The Rosso (about half
and half Cab and Merlot) is a really big, rather
dumb wine, nowhere near ready but with a lot of
potential - ready in three to five, I'd say.
The late-harvest Riesling was a disappointment -
flowery and with that pineapple-Rieslingy taste
but not very high in concentration and with only
7.something percent residual sugar. I told the
young woman behind the counter that I thought it
borderline for a dessert wine, and she allowed
that most customers bought it as a sweet table
wine (cf. Rhine Garten, for those of you above
forty or so). The tasting room doubles as a
foodie boutique, so you can get high-end
specialty foods and stuff at fairly high-end
prices: some good merchandise - Sharon O'Connor's
cookbook-classical CD combos and the excellent
Stonewall Kitchens jams and preserves among them.

A report on the front-runners in Spokane.

Clinkerdagger's, 621 W Mallon, in the Flour Mill
complex. A pleasant restaurant in the yuppie trough
vein - wood and plants and a solarium overlooking
the falls. Good staff, friendly, efficient, not too
hard on the sell. I had the applewood-smoked coriander
crusted pork loin - two sizable chops, one on the
bone, not very smoky, thoroughly cooked but still
juicy. They came with flavorful creamy redskin smashed
potatoes and a molasses-currant sauce (I think that
the menu mentioned a game demi-glaze, but that was
undetectable). A tangle of slivers of lemon zest
complicated the flavors a bit much, I thought, but
it was pretty good food nonetheless. The Jacob's
Creek Merlot (1998 I think) accompanied unobtrusively.
For afters: the special pecan pie, which was good
but not in any way special ($5.95 a moderate-size
slice); perhaps the signature "burnt cream" would
have been a better choice.


Longhorn Barbecue, 7611 W Sunset Hwy. Good staff,
friendly, fairly efficient, not too hard on the sell.
Setting is your stereotypical good ole chow hall, hard
chairs, lighting that manages to be harsh and somehow
not quite adequate at the same time. Beers the usual
dreck with a few ringers (Alaska Amber, Northern Lights
Amber), 10 oz $1.75, 23 oz $3, 34 oz $4.50, and so on.
Go for a couple 23 ozers. The food is wholesome but not
on the whole exceptional. German sausage was fatty and
a bit pasty, the texture more bangerlike than I would
have hoped. Ribs although with a smoked taste reminded
me of Chinese restaurant ribs with their sweet glaze.
The BBQ sauce here, by the way, is way sweet. The chili,
described on the menu with the oxymoronic juxtaposition
"Texas recipe" and "beans," was surprisingly Texas-like,
the beans not mushily cooked into the stew but folded
in later in the cooking. Mostly chuck beef (some gristly
bits, which I like) and decent chili powder with some
heat. I'd have gone for cooking onions in, but at least
they offer the option of chopped onions for on top. Odd
things: the men's room has old Sunday comics tacked up
on the wall; the sign out front reads "barbecue," but
when the neon lights up, the neon reads "barbeque."

[My colleague C. reported vaguely that she'd had an
exceptional kung pao chicken at a restaurant in
Airways Heights "called La La or Lu Lu or something."
A quick check of the phone directory yielded
"Lai Lai, 13008 W Sunset Hwy" ... I didn't have the
time or inclination to verify her report, though.]