Alaska restaurants worth road-tripping to
Notes on: getting the F out of Anchorage, The Potato, corn chowder, the Copper River Valley, red fruit crisp, Girdwood hula hoops, salmon bellies, split-levels and wildflowers
God, give us a reason to pack a duffel, specifically a trusty one we wrote our last name on so long ago we can barely see it, with our fleece and cut-off American-made Xtratufs. Let us convene the bear spray, metal mug, hand sanitizer, DEET, sunscreen, the small bag with the toilet paper and the shovel, filet knife, emergency VIA packet, lighter, beanie, sticker-covered Nalgene and the cooler that’s been so many places we’ll never get the road dust out of its crevices. Then, let us embark on this week’s Love Anchorage Challenge, which is: get the F out of Anchorage. Amen.
I often think of a line poet Maggie Smith wrote about how the stories we tell about ourselves are nesting dolls, each existing within a larger one. So too are the lives we lead in Alaska’s largest city. You can get mentally trapped here, wrapped in the sticky myopic web of personal dramas, work routines, too-wide intersections, split-levels and strip malls. But you’ll never *get* this place unless you find a way to view Anchorage’s short history, the push-pull of its economy and its people as part of the larger story. That story is Alaska. This is the best time to see it.
Last week, I took a side trip from a reporting mission in the Copper River Valley for such a journey, over three milky-swift glacial rivers, along a rattly mining road at the base of shale cliffs, through white aspens, brushy horsetail, and yellow shrub cinquefoil to arrive at the tiny kingdom of McCarthy. There, past the sign for the Christian radio station, several decommissioned Vanagons and a three-legged poodle, I found my friend Jeremy at The Potato, a restaurant you should not miss. I tucked into a warm bowl of whitefish curry, shared the famous miso salad, and spooned chocolate pot de creme out of a Mason jar.
That night I slept on Jeremy’s land with nothing in my ears but the susurration of breeze through the understory of the forest. Once imposing city thoughts receded, eclipsed by the memory of a 7000-foot stairway icefall I’d seen on the way in and a story Jeremy told me about unloading a whole can of bear spray into the mouth of a charging black bear, so close he could see the orange liquid drip off its face. The next morning, I filled my Nalgene with spring water from the stream in town and savored it for the whole day, trying to memorize the taste. Getting out of Anchorage put me right. It also felt good to come home to it.
What can get you out of Anchorage? Maybe you’re after fish or a music festival. Please take in a wide horizon, memorize the wildflowers and eat. If you aren’t up for the long food adventure to McCarthy, go to Homer. There is so much good food there, but Johnny’s Corner, a modest walk-up counter at the end of the Spit with the freshest fish, is an epic landing spot. Need a closer destination? Make a reservation at The Cookery in Seward. Take in the psychedelic SeaLife Center experience. Do not leave that town without eating a taco at Lone Chicharron.
What’s for dinner: I just made red berry crisp with a combination of what’s in Mom’s yard (rhubarb) and what’s in the fridge (strawberries and cherries that have seen better days). It’s just the thing to eat in the sun, with a big dollop of full-fat yogurt, while you watch the cottonwood fluffs drift by. My basic approach: toss 5 cups of red fruit (any combo) plus 3/4 cup of sugar, 1/4 cup corn starch and a splash of orange liqueur or orange juice in a bowl. In another bowl, make a crisp topping: with your hands, crumble together a cup of flour (or GF flour), 3/4 cup brown sugar, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1 cup oats, 1/2 cup chopped nuts and a stick of room-temperature butter. Pour the fruit in a 9-by-13-inch pan, shake the topping on top, and bake for about 50 minutes in a 350-degree oven until the sides bubble. (Here’s my recipe for making a rhubarb-only version at a camp or cabin.) Also on the docket: corn chowder with the 8-pack of corn from Costco. I boil my cobs and riff on this recipe in the Times, adding bacon to the initial sauté or throwing in canned green chiles, lime, Mexican oregano, cumin and cheddar.
Little treats: This week’s treats are brought to you with a little help from my friends. First up, my pal Noam, an excellent shopper, recommends picking up kippered sockeye bellies from Alaska Sausage and Seafood, which he says are delicious and an excellent value. Friend Barry is still thinking about a cold brew with maple cold foam from the Pasta La Vista food truck that came in a cool cup and made him feel transported. I didn’t buy the white king I saw at 10th & M Seafoods yesterday, but it is a gorgeous special occasion splurge. This weekend is Girdwood’s Forest Fair, which is an essential part of finding the vintage soul of that weird little ‘burg. Assignments: Talkeetna Spinach Bread, purchasing kid-made artwork (carry cash), getting a tiny watercolor pinned on your shirt upon entry, listening to music with a beverage in your hand (here’s the stage schedule). Bonus Girdwood points for fairy face paint and use of an oversized hula-hoop. 🧚🏻
If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while and find it useful, consider becoming a small-scale investor in road stories about three-legged poodles and mad bears, recipes for your mother’s rhubarb and hot tips about where to get salmon bellies by upgrading your free subscription here. Subscriptions start at $1.50 a week or $8 a month and give you access to my archive of newsletter recipes and restaurant reviews, early notice about events and workshops, and entry into my occasional birthday cake raffle. You can also choose to be a founding subscriber, doubling-down on this Alaska food/writing project for $240.
Write to me with your favorite road-food spots (especially north of Anchorage), vintage Xtratuf pics, opinions on boiling cobs for corn chowder and anything, really.
Thank you, always, for reading.
Julia
P.S.: For my newest recipes and access to many stories I link to, subscribe to the Anchorage Daily News and Edible Alaska. Search all my recipes and writing at juliaomalley.com.
P.P.S.: Happy 11th birthday to my son Neri. I loved this Kobe/LeBron cake SO HARD. 🏀 🙌
*Eagle-eyed editor-for-hire Egan Millard reads this newsletter. Hire him. 🦅*
(A caption on the first photo in the version of this newsletter that went out by email said “The Toe” was at the base of Root Glacier. It is at the base of neighboring Kennicott Glacier.)
When we were in McCarthy last summer we didn’t quite have time for dinner and catching the last shuttle ☹️ (camper was north of Chitina… highly recommend Liberty falls for camping!). We love to stop at Eureka Lodge for pie on the Glenn Hwy and Monderosa Lodge if it’s still around on the Parks.
My daughter and her family are hosting a family of Norwegians down in McCarthy this week. The Potato is definitely on their list. I got to go there once; it is definitely worth the drive.