The Orchard House: Comfort and Contentment
The Culinary Club (aka the Foodies) consist of three flavor-lovers.
I'm beginning to see my role in the configuration. I want to write about
the food, of course, but from me you'll always get the storybook
version. What leads up to it, thoughts and feelings while there, and
what's lingered after the fact.
I'm the touchy-feely, warm fuzzy one...
I can accept that.
The three of us met in a Nampa parking lot, piling into my Jeep for a
ride through the snow, ice and (O joy!) thick fog. I chose to take the
scenic route down my beloved Lakeshore Drive, just off Highway 45. The
home I'd moved (from out by Boise Towne Square) and planted on seven
acres, remodeled and re-constructed with my former husband was on
Lakeshore Drive. The area is embedded in me, and I hope to return one
very triumphant day. We'll see how that goes.
I played tour guide, pointing out the friends' house that held annual
Christmas tree burns in March every year, with flames jumping higher
than their rooftop when teenagers piled on ten trees at once. In the
fog, we could barely make out an outline of the house on the corner.
I told
Sarah and
Deb about
the closed-down cafe, where Lakeshore legend had it that a cougar once
crashed through the big front window, alarming cafe customers. The
legend has never been confirmed, and I don't recall now where I first
heard it, but it's fun to tell.
I motioned to the house that had the dog that battled with our dog. The
owners and I had words, then months later laughed about it over a plate
of cookies. They gave away their dog, our dog died, and we remained
friends.
My heart beat faster as we approached our old property. The trees I'd
planted, the gazebo my then-husband had built for me, the exterior paint
I'd exasperated over, finally deciding on 'Sunny Beach', the kids'
fort... I'd loved that place, and I always will, but it was shrouded in
fog and we couldn't see a thing.
"There it is," I told my friends, then quickly realized I was pointing to the neighbor's house, not ours. Fog factor.
Memories all the way around the lake as I remembered early morning bike
rides out to Walker Lake or Riverside roads, summers of smelling the
freshwater air, and a much slower-paced life than the one I'm living
nowadays. There were days I'd avoided taking this very route for just
such reasons, when the emotions were too poignant to take, but the thick
white mist and always-intriguing conversation of Deb and Sarah
distracted me just enough to be delighted versus slightly depressed.
We drove past
Ste. Chapelle winery,
where I'd spent many contemplative moments overlooking the Marsing
valley below and planning my life and/or praying for guidance. Although
not a drinker of wine, this is my favorite spot for those activities.
Due to low visibility, we almost missed our destination,
the Orchard House.
Once again, nostalgia hit me when I remembered my friend Lisa and I
sitting over a bowl of soup and a heart-to-heart chat at this same
dwelling when it was 'Cooky's Famous Potato House' years ago. Now I was
there with new friends, new restaurant owners, and really, a very
different and new life. The thought stuck and encouraged me. I was cold
from the damp, hungry, and ready for what I hoped would be an amazing
brunch. According to one Sunset Magazine article featuring the place,
we were in for a treat.
Combine the wooden paneled walls, tin stamped ceiling, white sparkling
lights, and vintage-y country decor, and you'll come up with one word:
relax...and yet, there was something more. I didn't put my finger on it
until just now when I looked up the healing properties of wood. This is
what I found:
The element of
wood is closely linked to new beginnings and renewal.
How fitting that we should have a brunch so close to the beginning of
the year...here, surrounded by wood, and having just passed my old home
with its many connections. Perhaps the day, the occasion and the element
were assuring me it is now time to move on into future happinesses.
I expected down-home cooking from the Orchard House, but got something
else. It was down-home, home-made, and comfort-style, all right, but
with a twist. Within my Portabello scramble were eggs, an earthy
spinach, and the delightful depth of asiago cheese. I wouldn't have been
surprised if it had been infused with a rich consomme of some sort,
and/or possibly white cooking wine. (It all cooks out, right?) At any
rate, it was freaking delicious.
Sarah chose an omelette (also tasty when she offered me a sample) and
Deb stuck with the traditional bacon, eggs, toast and hash browns,
explaining that the day seemed to call for that. Could there be anything
more homey than being surrounded by a Grandma's cabin-feel, people all
around us talking, laughing, eating, and our table filled with plates of
culinary comfort? I think not.
My scramble was flanked by four hearty sun-dried tomato and herb slices
of bread, toasted to perfection and glowing with just the right amount
of butter, as well as colorful slices of tomato. I chose an
herbal tea
that (reminiscing, once again) was the same tea I'd had at my sister's
on a cold rainy day in Seattle. Combined with my dear Foodie friends,
the Orchard House atmosphere, and the warming mug of licorice spice tea,
I was fast entering contentment zone.
A constant plus for our CClub meals is the conversation. Sarah,Deb, and I
are never at a loss for things to say. Each from differing backgrounds,
the diversity and open communication enhance every single shared meal.
Some bonuses during our visit: My friend and salon owner
Talie Elordi and
her family were there having brunch, also a cheerful-looking woman who
sat nearby dining alone grinning, clearly enjoying each splendid bite as
she leisurely paged through the local paper. Many times I'll frequent a
place with my only companions being a journal and a book, so I observed
with the happiness only a part-time solitude junkie could. Orchard
House owner Sherri McCoy approached, chatting for a bit with the opener,
"I see you three taking pictures, are there any questions I can answer
for you?"
Sherri is among the few restauranteurs that have thus far paid us any
mind, but then again we were pretty obvious with the picture-taking. I
think it's safe to say we prefer to remain fairly anonymous foodie
bloggers, but her joining the conversation was a definite plus. What she
shared was entertaining and real; we enjoyed her comments immensely.
When asked if Sunset Magazine's article put them right into stardom, her
reply was, 'Not really.' Same with 'Diners, Drive-In's, and Dives'.
Some notoriety where every now and then a diner mentioned that they're
checking it off their D,D and D list, but for the most part, their
lifeblood was from locals and the neighboring orchards' fruit-seekers.
It has become tradition to visit Marsing orchards, and then the Orchard
House. The Orchard House chef, Rubio Izaguirre had no prior restaurant
experience. This is one of the things I suspect makes his work so
amazing. Low on ego, high on talent, and an obvious love for his art.
The perfect storm for satisfaction was created last Saturday. Old and
new, past and present, damp and fog, comfort and cheer and contentment
on a plate. The Orchard House is bound for tradition for the Foodies,
and as for myself, I intend to return, especially on the very next
contemplative, cozy, foggy day.
*For more adventures in Idaho, (with recipes between the stories!) get the
"Appetite for Idaho" book
here.
And visit the Appetite for Idaho
Facebook page, with new stuff to do posted every weekday!
