By David & Susan Greenberg
With a genius matched by few, we arrived in Ilwaco at the same instant that one of the great ice storms of the last decade arrived (January 19, 2024) which shrank our range of exploration to almost zip. Still, we managed to sample some of Ilwaco’s ice-glazed fruit, and it’s worth sharing.
We stayed at the At the Helm Hotel, styled smart without ostentation.
At the Helm Hotel moments before the ice-storm hit.
Looking outward from our room, the docks, with elegant lines, lay before us. From the docked ships, a thicket of masts spread upward like bristles against which the sky could wriggle its back.
Docks moments before the ice-storm hit.
As the glaze thickened on our windows, it distorted the view, taking on the gauzy aspect of an impressionist painting and eventually, as it grew thicker yet, the view of someone with advanced glaucoma.
Our king-size bed with spiff linens enfolded us tenderly yet firmly, none of this sinking into memory foam until you’re immobilized with no way to haul out.
The room was well-windowed and well-spruced (and thankfully respruced every day which seems to be rarer and rarer at hotels). The bathroom was spare and elegant, towels like spinnakers, bath robes plush.
For medical reasons, which surely entitle us to a tax deduction, we spent time in the bar. They make a hot toddy that seemed to cure all our ailments, many of which have baffled doctors. Our memory is hazy, but perhaps we drank more than one.
While their deep-fried calamari did not stand on the shoulders of giants (which is asking a lot of a squid) it had enough stature that we’d gladly order it again.
Ditto their Dungeness Crab Bisque which transported as much with its perfume as with its taste.
Were their Grownup Mac & Cheese with Grilled Rustic Bread a dog, it would be the kind of dog you’d immediately adopt and let sleep in your bed, it was that good. Their Highliner 17, a sandwich of grilled chicken and honey ham topped with pineapple, melted swiss and cheddar, was a Boys in the Boat sandwich, at first glance JV but really Olympic Gold.
Risking broken hips, we slithered to the pub in the nearby Salt Hotel. The homey, nautical restaurant might have been small but its food was big, flavor-wise, portion-wise. Their Prawn Cocktail utilized prawns with high body mass index
and their Smoked Salmon Spread starter (as large as a main) was based on house-smoked salmon. So nummy. Likewise, their Seared Salmon in a Bourbon Glaze, nummy. The main attraction we’d tell our bookie to bet on was the Corned Lamb Sandwich, with Stout Sauerkraut on Rye. What an exciting, housemade variation on corned beef! The restaurant makes a variety of pickles and its own kraut.
We liked the bar’s Margarita, but their Elder Drop, based on Elderflower liqueur, was ambrosial, like something Aphrodite herself would sip all dolled-up on a date with Zeus or Travis Kelce. And this drink only used elderflower. Imagine its magnificence had they used youngerflower. Bartenders, take note.
Finally, like Olympic tobogganists, we slid our way to Castaways Seafood Grille in nearby Long Beach. We started with Flash Roasted Brussel Sprouts, strewn with bacon and parmesan, which is where those blessed brussels who Rapture end up.
Of course, covered in bacon and parmesan, even your cellphone would be delicious. We thought their beer-battered halibut was top tier. Their Steamer Linguini was tippy-top tier.
There was live music and for all the ice, the place was gill-deep in customers.
Aside from these restaurants for which we, indomitable journalists, risked our lives, everything was closed and/or unreachable except for Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum.
Museum just before the storm.
From ancient indigenous canoes,
to baskets woven from bark,
to stone fishing weights,
to pictures of indigenous folk,
to an early cranberry rake,
it separated history into layers as a prism separates light.
All of us are museum fodder, are we not?
From the shortest, ice-constricted visit, Ilwaco struck us as a tourist town set upon a fishing town set upon a second-home town set upon a primary residence town. And if you really dig, upon millenia of habitation by indigenous people.
Visit and savor a snug hotel, savor the food, savor the littoral beauty, savor the reverberations of time past and yet to be.
davidandsusangreenberg@gmail.com
www.ardentgourmet.com
