I got condiments in low places

So, last week, I was fortunate enough to dine at a fine Renton establishment called Jimmy Mac's Roadhouse. Steaks, beer (not that we indulged; it was a WORK lunch), and peanuts on the floor. I enjoy these restaurants -- I usually know exactly what I'm going to get and they have the foresight to provide one of the greatest additions to the bar and grill experience: the condiment six-pack. You know what I'm talking about -- they take a beer six-pack holder and toss in green and red tabasco sauces, ketchup (natch), mustard, and whatever else might be the appropriate escort of your food. Malt vinegar in fish and chips place. And Heinz 57 in the case of Jimmy Mac's. But they had a condiment I had yet to taste: spicy Heinz 57 which leads me to one of my conclusions of the week: Spicy is the New Black. Everything has a new spicy version these days (except the Spice Girls. R.I.P Ladies). Sometimes the spicy moniker is deceiving; it appears they just added some reddish tomatoey flavor and called it "hot." Well, you can try and sex up Clay Aiken that way, but that dog just don't hunt. This spicy Heinz had a bit of kick and livened up my steak considerably.

Then today, I had to be up in the land of wealth, shallowness and scary fake tans known as Bellevue, so I visited a place I had been eyeing on the Internet for months: Porcella Urban Market. There was a very encouraging review in the Seattle P-I awhile back and it sounded like the place of my dreams: homemade meats, fancy schmancy salads and lots and lots of high-end condiments for sale.

Now, as Mr. Mustard will be the first to point out to anyone who asks, I spend entirely too much money on condiments. I will willingly dish out $7-$8 for jars of some of my favorite staples. But this Urban Market stretched even my spendthriftiness - $17 for a tiny tin of Fennel salt? And they didn't even have that much selection. Lots of strange condiments that befuddled but did not beguile. Grape must with pumpkin? No description of possible uses, no decent copy. Just...."grape must with pumpkin?" What the hell? Now, I know that you, my devoted readers, know that balsamic vinegar is made from grape must, but I don't believe your average Bellevue-ian would know something like that.

I got a very good chicken sandwich, with subtle rosemary accents and a crunchy bad of homemade chips accompanied it, but there was something hollow in the entire experience.

I needed to drown my sorrows in a corn syrup loaded six-pack of low rent condiments. Thank the goddess for Heinz.

Yours in eternal spiciness,

Condiment Grrl