14 // COASTWEEKEND.COM
Coast Weekend’s local
restaurant review
Treating yourself is possible when on a sugar detox
Review and photos by
MOUTH OF THE COLUMBIA
MOUTH@COASTWEEKEND.COM
The gleaming yellow pound
cake. Crackers and cheese. That
errant piece of candy I discovered
in a jacket pocket. A burger and a
beer on Friday afternoon.
All of them, hectoring me.
Pleading. Forbidden.
For I was abstaining from sugar
— not only sweets, but anything
processed or high on the glycemic
scale (see: potatoes, corn, bread,
etc.). The regimen, dubbed the 10
Day Sugar Detox Challenge, was
developed by Seaside’s Jennifer
Visser. It was presented through her
business, the Healthy Hub, as a free,
community-wide event. It would
help to detox together, she suggest-
ed, because it wouldn’t be easy.
And indeed, when you tear
your body from the jackknifi ng
sugar cycles it’s accustomed to, the
withdrawals are real. You get sore,
physically and mentally. After a
few days you’re supposed to break
through, feeling more energetic,
lean, sleeping better and so on.
Besides trimming one’s waistline
— which, as the Mouth, I was long
overdue for — the detox has a way
of recalibrating one’s tastebuds.
They seem to become heightened.
Natural fl avors become more
rewarding.
I appreciate the detox’s effects
because I participated last year.
That fi rst time was a true revelation,
one that would forever change my
eating habits. I replaced loads of
empty starches with nutrient-rich
veggies. But for whatever reason,
my second go at the detox was
more turbulent. Sugar’s fangs were
again lodged deeper than I imag-
ined. For the better part of those
days I was a achy, listless grump.
Eventually I sought to offset
that crankiness — not to mention
all the extra time I was spending in
the kitchen — by eating out. And
to be sure: There’s not a whole lot
on local menus that meet the detox
criteria at face value. (In short,
A beautifully cooked fi let mignon at
the Stephanie Inn put the Mouth on
cloud nine.
At Silver Salmon, the Mouth ordered the Alder Planked Salmon Dungeness
with double veggies on the side.
it’s meat and veggies.) Dining out
within the guidelines, I imagine, is
similar to dealing with other dietary
restrictions.
My fi rst trip out was to The
Stand in Seaside. It was recom-
mended by Visser, the detox cham-
pion, who relayed her go-to sug-
ar-free order there: a Spicy Veggie
burrito, sans tortilla, add meat and
avocado. As part of my laundry list
of substitutions, I also had to make
sure there was no rice or beans, and
it made me feel a little sheepish,
self-conscious of my fi nicky order.
(It’s something I hoped to overcome
as there’s no shame in ordering
what you really want or need.)
Only momentarily bashful, I was
overcome with joy when handed
the dish. After stressing over every
detail of every meal at home, being
cooked for was an enormous relief.
What lay before me was akin to a
big, steaming taco salad (but with
no taco). Zucchini spears were the
foundation. Along with celery, they
were ingredients I was surprised
to fi nd at a burrito shop. With faint
black grill marks, the veggies —
including onions and a few slices of
bell pepper — were faintly sea-
soned. While I expected something
from a simmered marinade, the
I WAS STILL IN
SEARCH OF A
MEAL THAT MIGHT
TRANSCEND THE
RESTRICTIONS
WHILE AT THE
SAME TIME REMAIN
WITHIN THEM.
chicken was plain and rather dry. As
I fi lled up, my contentment dimin-
ished; this basic sauté too closely
resembled what I’d been making at
home. No shots at The Stand, but I
thought to myself: There’s a way to
ascend here; it must be possible to
treat one’s self while adhering to a
restrictive diet.
A few nights later I slid into a
booth at Astoria’s Silver Salmon
Grille. The ethos there seemed to
fi t the bill: Upscale dining boasting
health. The menu makes a point
of working within dietary needs.
I chose the Alder Planked Salmon
Dungeness ($33), seafood that
seemed to require the least modi-
fi cation. The fi sh is broiled on an
alder plank “Native American style”
and crowned with crab. I had to get
the rosemary beurre blanc on the
side, which was a shame. I tasted a
dab — it was rich, lovely, creamy
and delicious. Some of what I’d
been missing. Instead of potatoes or
rice I got double veggies. Prepared
simply in oil, it was mostly baby
carrots with caramelized onions and
a few blackened bell pepper slivers.
The alder plank didn’t instill in the
salmon any new fl avor but did grant
a lovely, delicate outer crust and a
supple center. The dusting of crab
elevated the meal above rote diet or
training food — I mean, after all,
we are talking salmon and veg-
gies. (Thank goodness the veggies
weren’t steamed.) And while I
was satisfi ed, even smiling for the
moment, a couple hours later I was
hungry again, dipping into the cup-
boards and fi ring up the stove.
As the detox came to an end I
was still in search of a meal that
might transcend the restrictions
while at the same time remain with-
in them. I made a reservation at the
Stephanie Inn. On the second fl oor
of the Cannon Beach hotel, it is
one of the most opulent, classi-
cally fine dining options around,
if not the zenith. This was, after
all, to be a celebration, a toast to
the detox’s completion.
I explained the situation to my
server, and as luck would have
it she had detoxed a few years
prior. With the Filet Mignon
($50), she knew to leave out the
potatoes and the sauce (a deep,
elegantly refined Oregon truffle
reduction). Again, alas, I was
doing double veggies. If you look
at the plate — and, to be sure, the
snaps from my old iPhone don’t
do it justice — it looks pretty
basic. But these veggies — from
outstanding regional farms King-
fisher and Island’s End — were a
cut above.
And the filet was from another
stratosphere.
It came from Washington
Beef, a ranch in our neighbor
state’s northwestern corner. (The
Stephanie maintains a wildly
impressive pantry from purveyors
mostly within a radius of a few
hundred miles.) Before being
sliced into two almost-coffee-cup
footprint, inch-thick medal-
lions, the Angus filet was aged,
seared to form an wholly-seal-
ing-yet-delicately-thin crust, then
finished in the oven. In the cen-
ter, a tender pink sun emanated,
glowing forth form a nearly raw
center, dissipating with uncom-
mon evenness toward the crust.
There are no visible traces of fat
or tissue — the marbling has to-
tally rendered, locked within, os-
mosis; tissue, meanwhile, would
be as likely found on a Stephanie
Inn plate as unicorn.
Such a quality of steak would
be of significant difficulty to
source at retail in the area. It is
then coupled with an execution
every bit as extraordinary. Whilst
chewing that luscious filet, it’s
as if God is smiling down upon
you. No matter what’s happening
— sugar detox, personal, polit-
ical, etc. — it whisks you to the
moment, swaddling in the lap of
luxury. All concern — actual and
existential — seem to melt away.
The Stephanie Inn’s beef made
me not only wholly present, but
it left a long tail of gratitude.
That effervesce permeated the
remainder of my evening. I was
on cloud nine until my head hit
the pillow. Wishing, hoping to
dream: but for if every night I
could only afford to eat so well;
I could stay on the sugar detox
forever.