Food & Drink

I should have listened when my mother told me not to judge a restaurant from the sidewalk. But I didn't. Instead, I learn these lessons at my own expense. The most recent discrimination cost me countless lunches at an award-winning cafe. Readers of yours truly, The Source Weekly, voted Cross Creek Cafe “Redmond's best lunch spot” two years in a row.
But based on a few passing glances at 20 miles per hour … er … the posted speed limit, Cross Creek Cafe looked like an ordinary deli serving, likely, the same 'ole sandwiches. Boy, was I wrong.

I should have listened when my mother told me not to judge a restaurant from the sidewalk. But I didn't. Instead, I learn these lessons at my own expense. The most recent discrimination cost me countless lunches at an award-winning cafe. Readers of yours truly, The Source Weekly, voted Cross Creek Cafe “Redmond's best lunch spot” two years in a row.
But based on a few passing glances at 20 miles per hour … er … the posted speed limit, Cross Creek Cafe looked like an ordinary deli serving, likely, the same 'ole sandwiches. Boy, was I wrong.

Every spring, right around daylight savings, my anxiety over cooking winter's hearty greens reaches its apex. I'm eager for asparagus, morels, English peas, tomatoes and corn. Roughly 25 dinners separate winter and springtime in my kitchen. Stores have artichokes from far-flung locales tempting me with spring flavors at designer prices. But if I can make the most of winter's bounty, you can too.

Every spring, right around daylight savings, my anxiety over cooking winter's hearty greens reaches its apex. I'm eager for asparagus, morels, English peas, tomatoes and corn. Roughly 25 dinners separate winter and springtime in my kitchen. Stores have artichokes from far-flung locales tempting me with spring flavors at designer prices. But if I can make the most of winter's bounty, you can too.

As teenagers, my friends and I became known by name at the Chinese Buffet in our upstate New York town. There, we followed a ritualistic fortune cookie reading in which we'd tack on “in bed” to the end of our fortunes, making each experience a memorable one, and the buffet rotation felt almost like a school cafeteria. Whether it was the sleep-inducing buzz from MSG or our raging teenage hormones that led to the tagline, a reprise of “in bed,” fortunes echoed at Red Dragon Chinese Restaurant this week.
For many foodies, Americanized Chinese food isn't a regular stop with more authentic Asian options like Japanese and Thai food available, but several of my friends, devout fast-foodies, as I've come to call them, enjoy nothing more than heaping portions of General Tso's (an American invention) at Red Dragon. We arrived at this south-end spot and settled in with good intentions and were greeted by a giant gold Buddha in the entryway and the familiar sounds of trickling water and soft music. The space was well lit and decorated with porcelain vases.

As teenagers, my friends and I became known by name at the Chinese Buffet in our upstate New York town. There, we followed a ritualistic fortune cookie reading in which we'd tack on “in bed” to the end of our fortunes, making each experience a memorable one, and the buffet rotation felt almost like a school cafeteria. Whether it was the sleep-inducing buzz from MSG or our raging teenage hormones that led to the tagline, a reprise of “in bed,” fortunes echoed at Red Dragon Chinese Restaurant this week.
For many foodies, Americanized Chinese food isn't a regular stop with more authentic Asian options like Japanese and Thai food available, but several of my friends, devout fast-foodies, as I've come to call them, enjoy nothing more than heaping portions of General Tso's (an American invention) at Red Dragon. We arrived at this south-end spot and settled in with good intentions and were greeted by a giant gold Buddha in the entryway and the familiar sounds of trickling water and soft music. The space was well lit and decorated with porcelain vases.