Laboratory

"Would you like Washington water or bottled?" a server asks when you first sit down. It's a question that initially perplexes (Washington water . . . uh, that's tap, right?), but sets a certain tone. Pay attention. A creative work is in progress, and every ingredient—even the water— is to be examined and tasted carefully. Appropriately, then, the mod furniture is all white, creating a spare, almost clinical setting in which to dissect the flavors before you. Sometimes they work unquestionably well, like a comforting onion and duck tart with a poached duck egg perched on top. Sometimes you're not so sure. Venison with a coffee crust has a bracingly strong flavor that turns overpowering after a few bites. But you don't go to a place like Crush because you already know the results of the chef's experimentation. In a town of jaded restaurantgoers, Crush provides surprise, which is no doubt why it's one of the few restaurants here that can book out weeks in advance. NINA SHAPIRO

Serves: dinner. 2319 E. Madison St., 302-7874. MADISON VALLEY $$$

www.chefjasonwilson.com

 

Elemental @ Gasworks

"Aha!" you think when you finally manage to discover the entrance to Elemental, whose door is marked in ghostly lettering. At last—the mad scientist's laboratory, the one I've heard so many rumors about. You sneak in, and the sterility of the white-and-black, bare-bulb-lit room only confirms the sense that you're there to consume owners Phred Westfall and Laurie Riedeman's latest experiments. And you enthusiastically give yourself over to Phred and Laurie, letting them pick whatever they want to feed you and pour glass after glass of mysterious wine (yeah, don't try to wrest control back from Phred by prodding him with questions every time he comes around with a new course, because it ain't gonna happen). Did he really match your short ribs with a gewürztraminer? That fourth red—you guessed it was a pinot, but then it turned out to be an Austrian zweigelt? After a night of confounded expectations and tweaked senses, you realize that in fact you're the experiment, not the food. There's no release form to sign, just a check, the small amount on which will surprise you once again. JONATHAN KAUFFMAN

Serves: dinner. 3309 Wallingford Ave. N., 547-2317. FREMONT $$

www.elementalatgasworks.com

 

Ka Won Korean BBQ

Ka Won may not look like a laboratory—few labs are painted gold and fewer still offer booth seating—but there's alchemy afoot: Oven-heated stone bowls containing soft-tofu stew or puffy egg-and-broth custards hiss and steam as they exit the kitchen, and cauldrons (okay, woks) of dumpling junggol bubble away at other tables, their minders swirling and scooping as the moment arises. Flames lash up through the barbecues where marinated kalbi cooks, while at other tables, cast-iron griddles send up clouds of porky smoke from the uncured pork belly sizzling across their surface. The waiters push around metal carts, which they use to ferry petri-dish-sized bowls of Ka Won's amazing banchan, the side dishes that represent every facet of food chemistry: pickled cucumber tossed with chiles; candied threads of dried squid; blanched sprouts tossed in toasted sesame oil; jiggly squares of agar bathed in soy; and of course, fermented, tangy, mouth-searing cabbage kimchi that one team of Korean scientists asserts will cure avian flu. JONATHAN KAUFFMAN

Serves: dinner. 15004 Highway 99, Suite A, 425-787-6484. LYNNWOOD $$

 

La Carta de Oaxaca

Much as this restaurant, its walls hung with Spike Mafford's color-saturated photos, might look like a den of hipsters, it is really a laboratory. The experimenters are not white-coated scientists but a family of cooks putting simple meals together. The menu features such well-executed formulas as tacos al pastor, which explores the theorem of Occam's razor: "one should not increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities required to explain anything." This is often understood to mean that the simplest, most beautiful theory will be proven true. To make this taco materialize, the ingredients are minimal: barbecued pork, homemade tortillas, cilantro, onions, and hot sauce. That's it, and that's all you'll need. (If you really want to indulge, add a dab of their fantastic guacamole.) In a corner lab, you'll spot their mad scientist (i.e., bartender) mixing up frothing glass tubes: he's shaking tumblers to concoct a perfectly potent pint-glass margarita. ADRIANA GRANT

Serves: lunch, dinner. 5431 Ballard Ave N.W., 782-8722. BALLARD $$

www.lacartadeoaxaca.com

 

Mashiko