Discover Walla Walla

Back in the day, there were three taverns that shared a certain Walla Walla crowd’s affections:  The Red Apple (located where the Coffee Connection currently operates), the Blue Mountain Tavern (now the Blue Mountain Tavern and Casino), and the Green Lantern.  The three handily color-coded venues were affectionately known as the Red, the Blue and the Green.

The Blue has undergone several transformations, the Red just might be the only restaurant no one in Walla Walla really mourned when it finally gave up the ghost many years ago, but the Green has consistently provided a congenial spot to meet friends and have a beer.

Over the last few years, however, the Green Lantern has stepped up the food offerings to include gourmet pizzas and fish tacos, and they starting using Thundering Hooves’ locally-grown, pasture-finished beef for their hamburgers.  The logical extension of all of this is happy news for some of us:  they are open for lunch.

Which brings us to this month’s Bürgermeister’s Blog destination, and a sampling of the Green Lantern cheeseburger.

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Beautiful, at half the size.

I’ll be honest. As a trout fisher, it was an adjustment leaving Alaska.  But the Walla Walla Valley has many great things going for its fly fishing: beautiful and accessible water, a long season, and no grizzly bears wanting to take your fish. On the other hand, you don’t normally find a trout, twenty-five inches long and shaped like a football in the Touchet (did I say, Alaska is a fly fisher’s paradise?).

During my last, local fishing excursion my fishing partner and I only caught a few fish and the best trout was less than fourteen inches long; but I remember thinking as I released it ‘Wow! What a beautiful trout.’

I once read something to the effect that when you start fly fishing you just want to catch a fish, any fish. As you progress, you want to catch a lot of fish and then you want to catch a big fish. Finally you want to catch a lot of big fish.  Now I think there is another stage having to do with appreciating fish on an esthetic level.  I also think that Walla Walla has helped me achieve it.

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Walla Walla is my home town. I was born and raised here. I have seen the best and the worst of this valley.  As a little girl, I remember when downtown Walla Walla was the heart and pride of our community.  It was a gathering place with cafes and locally owned businesses.  Then the malls came to town and our “heart” was broken for over two decades. Empty buildings, obsolete store fronts and our pride diminished.

Once again, we are strong and we have the wineries and tourism to thank for it. Wineries bring tourism and tourism brings retail specialty shops and places to dine. And if you add all of these components together – they bring employment.

Wineries need employees, but they also rely on services from other local businesses such as banks, attorneys, advertisers, computer techs, office supplies, lawn and ag services, food and catering, automotive repair, electricians, plumbers to name a few.  Wineries create tourism and tourists need gasoline, food and accommodations.

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I just finished reading The Female Brain, by Louann Brizendine, M.D.

I didn’t understand it.

—Sam

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We keep with the theme of music tonight as we take in the Spring Jazz concert for about a dozen Whitman College students. Their instructor is world class trombonist, Dave Glenn, who prior to teaching, blew his horn in the Gerry Mulligan Band and toured with the likes of Dianna Ross. He’s a player, not just an academic. And tonight we’re back at my favorite recital hall, Chism, with its scratched honey wood floor and stark 70’s architecture – no more than 100 seats in the house.

The group starts out with a solid version of Miles Davis’ “Freddie Freeloader.” Each of the musicians plays a brief solo, all of them charted, except for pianist Ethan Maier. As the evening progresses, it becomes apparent that Maier and guitarist, Bo Sagal, are true jazz dogs. They’re really digging their solos that appear improvised, or at least, memorized, which distinguishes them from the other players. All the musicians tonight exude an affinity for jazz but Sagal and Maier are the most accomplished players and seem to most personify the jazz feel.

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When I heard they'd sold Merchants I was horrified. The iconic deli/bakery was a favourite across the valley, and no one who went to their memorable Wednesday Spaghetti Night ever missed it again if they could help it. While shopping downtown, it was a great place to stop in for a breather with a bagel and an iced tea. Some friends of mine went every Tuesday and alternated who paid; they bought a large loaf of whatever bread looked good that week and a chunk of cheese they'd never tried before.

If nothing else, the most unique and notable thing about Merchants was their order-call system. Upon placing your order, you were given a playing card, the face value of which was written on your ticket. When your meal was ready, they'd call out your card - "Jack of Spades!" "Nine of Hearts!" - and you'd motion them to your table.

About a month ago the "new" restaurant opened. Thirty-four-year-old Merchants was no longer; it had been replaced with the Olive Marketplace and Café. And last week, I finally got a chance to check it out.

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"They're not changing anything are they?"

"Don't know."

"I can't see what they're doing in there with all that brown paper in the windows. Why are they hiding what they're doing in there? Must be changing things. I'm not going in there if they change anything."

"Guess they don't want our advice."

"Shoot, I been in there every day for the past 20 years. You'd think they'd want to know what I think. I'd tell 'em if they asked. Yes, sir. I'd tell 'em not to change a thing. This place is an institution. Can't just go changing everything, you know."

"Nothing?"

"Well, they could update the bathrooms. Those need some work."

"That's all?"

"And some light upstairs. Can't see a thing up there. And the awning. It's seen better days. And I'd keep a good baker in there. I like the cinnamon rolls. You don't think they'll get rid of the cinnamon rolls, do you?"

"Don't know..."

"And they could do some repainting. And it'd be nice if they got rid of the yelling-that ‘Jack of Spades' stuff. Hurts my ears. And menus would be good. They better keep spaghetti night. I'm not going in there if they get rid of spaghetti night."

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A few weeks ago, on a beautiful sunny afternoon, I took the opportunity for an afternoon drive in the sunshine. The early signs of spring were all around me, including my own garden pushing up leaves that would soon belong to buds of daffodils and tulips.

My car headed south to the Washington/Oregon border and I let my car take me to the vineyards. I finally stopped at one of the first commercial vineyards in the Walla Walla Valley AVA. This large vineyard is also known as being one of the ten great vineyards in the world - the Seven Hills Vineyard. It was there, looking over a hillside of over 200-acres of vineyards, that I was assured that spring was definitely on the way. The old skeleton-like vines from last year's harvest had now been pruned and many more vines were waiting their turn. These newly pruned vines, with help from more rain and sunshine, will soon start bearing new spurs of vines, leaves and eventually, clusters of grapes.

During my drive I was reminded of the old Bible verse: "To every thing there is a season, ... a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted ..." I was also reminded that the wheat farmers would be planting soon and thought about the several generations of family wheat ranchers in the Walla Walla area. When the vineyards "came to town", they weren't exactly greeted with enthusiasm by everyone. In many ways it was reminiscent of the American west cattle and sheep range wars. Most of the dust has settled by now between wheat farmer and vineyard owner.

Like wheat farmers before, family owned vineyards are raising their own generations of caretakers for their crops. Don and Nicole Redman of Mannina Cellars, along with their children and dog, Lucy make pruning of Cabernet Sauvignon vines a weekend family event. Just the photo alone of the Redman family shows that in spite of the differences between vineyard owners and wheat farmers, they are still very much the same, after all.

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Matthew Palumbo carves a sharp figure as he thunderously strikes the ivory of the grand piano resting on the stage of the Melvin K. West Fine Arts Auditorium, the muscles on his sculpted forearms pulsating with each chord. The 21-year-old Palumbo, decked out fully in black --short sleeved shirt, tuxedo pants, shoes and socks to go with his jet black thatch hair, prior to his evening, has performed with Andre Watts, Van Cliburn, Alexander Kobrin and Yong Hi Moon, not to mention winning top prize at the Northwest Chopin Competition, Sherman Clay's Bach Competition and the Seattle Young Artists Music Festival.

Tonight, though, on the Spartan stage of the "West Fine Auditorium," Palumbo is performing his Junior Recital, as he continues to study at Walla Walla University under the tutelage of Dr. Leonard Richter, worlds away from large concert halls and renowned artists. Yet, Palumbo plays with such voraciousness that at times he runs his fingers along the ivory as if he can't devour the notes fast enough for his liking and his joy of playing is not linked to the size of the crowd or the presence of a virtuoso. No, Matthew Palumbo merely loves to play classical piano and the guests and family members gathered in this snug auditorium are lucky enough to be treated to a passion-filled hour that displays the full array of Mr. Palumbo's enormous talent.

Palumbo opens with Barber's Ballade, Op. 56, which perfectly matches his all black attire. After finishing the dark piece, Palumbo sits for several seconds, as if in a trance, as if he has entered Barber's world before awakening and rising from his bench to take his bow. Palumbo shows his impressive dexterity in the second piece, Bach's Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, but by the finish, this observer is wondering if there is any softness or delicacy to go along with these nimble fingers.

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After a brief hiatus, the Bürgermeister is happy to be back on the circuit, with a special report from Umapine, OR. Yes, it was time to revisit the Water Hole Tavern and sample the Big Beefy Burger once again.

For Walla Wallans who have been spoiled by the close proximity of everything, the Water Hole can seem like a trek. We'll get the directions out of the way: Take Highway 11 as if you're headed to Milton-Freewater, and make a right at Stateline. Continue on for five miles (you may suspect erroneous directions at this point in your journey, as even the farmhouses start to disappear and you are cruising through vistas of rolling farmland that do not bode well for the hungry), and look for a road on the lefthand side marked only with a green street sign that says "UMAPINE RD." (Now, Google Maps shows this as Umapine Stateline Highway, but we found no on-the-ground corroboration for this.)

Take this road south for two miles and you will find yourself at an intersection with a stop sign. On your far right is a beautiful old school building that, last we heard, was being converted into a foundry. On your left on the opposite side of the road you should be able to see Tate's Mercantile, and the Water Hole is directly on your left on the near side.

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