But this year I decided to take my matsutake obsession a step further, so on Saturday, I pulled on my boots and did something I've often longed to do: I went matsutake hunting. And whaddaya know? I found some -- at Uwajimaya:

Having both eaten at and watched the young pastamaker at work on his white oak "stage" (transformed, come evening, into one of the most coveted seats in the house), I'd urge you to seek out his restaurant, too. It's a stunner:

After I wrote about buying, peeling, seeding and freezing fresh-roasted chilies, reader Carl Edwards emailed to (very nicely) take me to task for my improper storage technique of these farmers market beauts:

Here's what Carl had to say:

"I'm a chili fanatic, so I've been roasting and freezing my own chilies at home for many years. The roasted chilies will actually do better if you freeze them without peeling or seeding them first. If you leave the charred skins on, the roasted chilies will maintain their integrity through the freezing process. You can peel and seed them after you thaw them out, and they'll be in good enough condition to use for chili rellenos, and the chile flesh will have a better texture. If you peel and seed them first, they tend to turn to mush when you freeze them. I sometimes do this, but only if I intend to use the frozen pulp in some type of sauce."

When I wrote back, thanking him for the tip (and noting that, indeed, I am an eejit), I told him I intended to use those chilies to make an old favorite -- potato, cheese and chili soup, which takes less than an hour to prepare. Ever the chili fanatic, he urged me to post the recipe on the blog. Good idea.

If you're the proud owner of "The Enchanted Broccoli Forest" by Mollie Katzen -- her follow-up to the classic "Moosewood Cookbook" -- perhaps my old standby is in your repertoire too. If not, here's the easy-to-make recipe. You can use fresh-roasted chilies, as I intend to, or do as Mollie suggests and open a can.

Potato Cheese & Chili Soup (makes four to six servings)

4 medium (3-inch diameter) potatoes
3 cups water [I use low-sodium Swanson's chicken broth, or homemade stock if I've got some]
1 T. butter
1 T. olive oil
1 1/2 cups chopped onion
1 3/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. basil [Mollie doesn't note it in the '82 edition, since revised, but I've long assumed she means dried]
2 medium cloves of garlic, crushed
lots of freshly ground black pepper
1 1/2 cups green bell pepper [which makes me burp, so I use sweet yellow or red bell pepper instead]
1 cup diced canned green chilies

3/4 cup sour cream
1 cup milk
3/4 cup (packed) grated Jack cheese
2 scallions (whites and greens), finely minced [I prefer to garnish with cilantro]

1. Scrub the potatoes, cut them into small chunks, and cook them in the water, partially covered, until tender (about 20 minutes). Cool to room temperature.

2. Meanwhile, begin sauteing the onions in combined butter and olive oil in a large, heavy skillet. After several minutes, add salt, cumin, basil, garlic and black pepper. Conintue to saute over medium heat until the onions are soft (5-8 minutes). Add chopped bell pepper and saute a few minutes more.

3. Puree the potatoes in their cooking water using a blender or a food processor. Return the puree to a kettle or a large, sturdy saucepan, and add the saute, plus the diced green chilies, sour cream and milk. Whisk until well-blended, and heat over a slow flame. When it is hot, stir in the cheese and scallions [or the cilantro] and serve.

As of last month, the former Seattle Times cafeteria -- once the private bastion of hungry RSI-inflicted journalists and their lunch bag-toting co-conspiritors is now home to the relocated Soup Daddy Soups and open to the public. So yesterday I went downstairs for a bowl of soup (cream of spinach with mushrooms and a whole lotta garlic) and ladled it up myself (from the very same "island" where I used to get my morning Cream of Wheat). I paid $3, grabbed a spoon and some crackers and went upstairs to eat it at my desk -- though, admittedly, owners Karl and Diane Martin have warmed-up our former cafeteria dining room substantially.

Given the sad decline and eventual closure of our once-bustling cafeteria over the past few years (don't get my fellow desk-jockeys started), I'm here to say the (Tully's) coffee was hot and so was my soup. Verdict: we're happy to have a new Daddy.

This leads me to ask: What other workplace "cafeterias" are open to the public and worthy of lunchtime visit? Does your office have one? Do you work near one? Where is it, and what should we eat there?

I've never been one for bathroom humor. Yet as someone who lives with two guys, I'm privy (so to speak) with a regular barrage of it. "Whatareyou, in fifth grade?" I'll ask my husband, as he and our fifth-grader sit doubled-over over something that has me staring off into space, stoneface. But while at Verve Wine Bar & Cellar in Columbia City last week (where I had an outstanding meal -- more on that in an upcoming roundup), I took a trip to the loo and saw this. I couldn't resist pulling out the camera, just to show the "fifth-graders":

Because Poppy -- his Capitol Hill restaurant and bar -- finally opened. Because it looks gorgeous. And Seattle has been showing up at Broadway and Roy in droves to check out the much-anticipated restaurant and its Indian-inspired thali concept: lots of small plates, served on a tray for you and you alone.

In my dreams, gang.

So, where was I? I was working on my annual contribution to Pacific Northwest magazine's fall dining guide, due out in November. And just like many of you, over the past couple of weeks I was ushering in a new school year, enjoying the fall weather and cooking a lot. I was also reading from a crop of terrific new cookbooks , celebrating the fact that my husband just returned from two months in Gibraltar (yes, that Gibraltar) and doing what I do best: meeting up with friends to eat and schmooze at some of the city's great new restaurants.

Special thanks to my work-buddies Karen Gaudette and Tan Vinh for stepping onto the blog while I stepped off. And speaking of stepping off, I've got to run out for a bit. I'll chat with you later in the day and we'll catch up with what's happening on the food scene.

Thanks to a new state law that allows distilleries to host tasting rooms and sell spirits on their premises, you can expect about a dozen small craft distilleries here by next year.

Dry Fly Distilling in Spokane is first out of the gate, offering tastings for its vodka, gin and by Christmas, a rare wheat whiskey, with bourbon, single malt and rye whiskey to follow over the next two years. Berle ''Rusty'' Figgins plans to open distilleries in Mattawa, Grant County and Ellensburg, and singer/songwriter Danny O'Keefe, a Vashon Island resident, may build a distillery in Woodinville.

The recent interest is due to a new law passed in March that allows micro distilleries to operate like a winery or brewery. Previously, only the state could sell liquor, a holdover law from the end of Prohibition.

Oregon lawmakers give distilleries more leeway, which explains why Oregon already has about 20 small craft distilleries, most in Portland.

If our artisan distillery scene resembles Portland's, we're in for a treat. Portland arguably has the nation's most exciting and cutting-edge microdistillery scene. Try Clear Creek's Pear Brandy and House Spirits' Aviation Gin.

You can check the Washington State Liquor Board site to see if your local liquor store carries those two Portland spirits.

Cheers.

Since we're in a "staycation" era, I want to share a fun way I've found to travel through time and space without ever leaving Seattle.

It's Polar Bar, at the recently renovated and reopened Arctic Club Hotel. It's leather and wood and cushiness, set to a smooth soundtrack. It's detail oriented, from the calm iciness of its decor to the adorable coasters that feature a map of the Arctic Circle and a lounging Polar Bear, martini in paw.

I'm also convinced it might be haunted (side note: if you're a ghost fan, check out the Market Ghost Tour at Pike Place Market, www.seattleghost.com). It could be the top hat and collar collection in the lobby, or the scads of historic photos of long past Arctic Club members, gazing out from the netherworld. It could be the board room with its giant leather chairs that sit with the weight of unfinished business and heavy conversations.

Then again, maybe I'm just a fraidy cat.

Either way, the "spirits" that haunt the bar are lovely. The menu abounds with classic cocktails, like the Flying Fortress ($12) and the Harvey Wallbanger ($11). We tried the Bee's Kiss (a deliciously sweet blend of 10 cane rum, cream and honey, $8) and a Pimm's Cup (a refreshing glass of spiced gin, ginger ale, lemonade and cucumber, $8). They went nicely with the beef and lamb sliders ($3 each), brioche and cheddar (a fancy pants grilled cheese sandwich, $4) and risotto croquettes ($5) with red onion jam. There's also a range of dainty desserts if you're looking for an after-dinner spot to keep the conversation going and linger over coffee or wine.

Another blast from the past is the absinthe fountain perched atop the bar, slotted spoons, sugar cubes and all. A few rounds of pool ought to help you come back to earth before you head home. But wait, we're on vacation...

(Another phrase for a vacation where you never leave home: Abdication!).

No longer do we win a medal at the Olympics. That's too cumbersome. Now we just "medal."

"Michael Phelps medaled a heckuva lot."
"Gee, wish I could medal in rhythmic gymnastics."
"If getting cool tattoos were an Olympic event, chef Matt Dillon definitely would medal."

I mention this because of a startling discovery I recently made whilst Googling something entirely unrelated (maybe this happens to you, too). Old Country Buffet has added a page to its site explaining "How to buffet."

Not buffet yourself against the weather, mind you. Buffet, as in, eat copious amounts of food over several visits to the buffet table.

(In Japan, buffet-style meals often are calling "viking," hinting at the Scandinavian smorgasbord tradition. But I digress).

These types of changes have happened for years, of course, as language evolves and grows. Picnic comes to mind. We wine people even as we sip it (and before said sipping, we cellar that bottle). But thus far, I haven't heard anyone declare they want to basket some bread or jam their toast (though we do jam to the beat).

What food-related nouns have you noticed becoming verbs as of late?

So imagine my delight at all the neat ways emerging to haul home our plunder from the farmers market and grocery store. I wrote about some of them in today's Food section, including the Hook & Go Urban Shopper , the Xtracycle
and Bakfiets.

These baskets are just adorable. So are these.

I saw even more options while testing out the Hook & Go with my partner in crime, Nicole Tsong, at the Columbia City Farmers Market. Folks were loading their produce into shiny red Radio Flyer Wagons, wire wheeled carts, backpacks, bike panniers and any number of reusable bags and baskets. The Burke-Gilman Trail teems with bikes with plastic milk crates lashed atop their racks to hold any number of items. While driving to Costco over the weekend, I noticed a pair of guys get off a bus at a nearby stop with a gigantic rolling suitcase. Later, I saw them inside near the refrigerator cases loading it up with food, presumably to roll it back home on the bus. Clever.

Cars will remain the mode of choice for most of us based on how far we live from the nearest store, or for safety reasons, or because we're just used to it. But for those who have the option to walk or bike (or want/have to shop sans car), what methods have you tried for hauling home food? What works and what doesn't?

Salumi in Seattle, Viande in Portland and Oyama Sausage Company in Vancouver, B.C. are easily among the leaders in the field, producing some of the best venison, duck and veal pates, sausages and prosciutto in North America. (On your list of things to do before you die, try the duck prosciutto at Oyama on Granville Island.)

You can see their influence in restaurants too. In Portland, several chefs now cure or smoke their own meat. Here's hoping more Seattle restaurants will pick up on the trend because many local foodies certainly have. Thanks to the Batali family of Salumi and many mom-and-pop sausage makers, a new generation of foodies are curing their own salamis and coppa at home. But how good are they?

Salumi wants to find out. The Pioneer Square restaurant will host a contest not only for professional chefs but also amateurs who want to showcase their cured lonza, coppa, prosciutto and salamis.

The Second Annual Salumi ''Salami Challenge'' at the Festa Italiana will take place at the Seattle Center on Sept 27th and 28th. Check here for details.

Since Nancy's away for one more week, today we revisit one of her most-popular columns, one that addresses a perennial topic: Restaurant service. In it, she ruminates on the different ways she and her husband, Mac, handle less-than-stellar treatment when they dine out.

''The way I see it, when service isn't what it should be, I'm inclined to give a place the benefit of the doubt. The way he sees it, he'd ''rather throw the money in the street'' than return to a place where he's encountered bad service. And therein lies the difference between a paid critic (me), and a restaurant-critical patron (him): My job description requires that I give the place another chance, visiting three, sometimes four times before making a final assessment. His -- and presumably yours-- does not."

Read the whole column here.

Nancy wonders: What do you do in similar circumstances? When restaurant service is bad, do you stay or do you go? And if you stay, do you go back? Are you apt to give a place the benefit of the doubt, or is it ''Strike one and yer out!''