No Longer Alaska's Best-Kept Culinary Secret

266639

Location

524225

The road to the Double Musky Inn is almost ALWAYS under construction. In the 20 years I've been going there, they STILL haven't paved it, but you forgive them once you arrive (if you can get a seat, that is). We got there about two minutes after they opened and fortunately the gravel parking lot wasn't overflowing with Ford pickup trucks like it usually is. Normally we had to wait 20 minutes at the bar before getting a table. Today we were lucky. Mom and I would always stop by here on the long drive back from a shopping spree in Anchorage whenever we couldn't think of anywhere good in town but felt like eating something special. We never once thought of it as a "world class" or "elite" by any means. Maybe it's because to us, a meal at the Double Musky Inn feels like dining at Grandpa's cabin in the woods. But this time, when we opened the door and trodded carefully into the familiar, comforting spicy darkness, Mom squeezed my arm painfully with great excitement and whispered about how the place had been recently named "one of Food Network's top 10 restaurants in America." I wasn't surprised at all. We Alaskans knew the Double Musky was long overdue of that kind of respect. But had it turned elitist as a result? We could still get a seat without reservation. That was a good sign. We walked in and were escorted to a beautiful corner seat in the sunroom overlooking the flower garden, abloom with every Alaskan wildflower imaginable from our heralded forget-me-nots to columbine to bleeding hearts. On the inside, the Double Musky was bedecked with glittering mirrors, stained glass panels and the signature Mardi Gras paraphernalia (masks and beaded necklaces), all of this a feast for our eyes as our noses enjoyed the heady aromas of fresh baked breads and roasting meats. The people at the tables around us all looked happy, the occasional "amazing" and "really good!" rising up along with the clinking of glasses and forks against plates. I could tell by their turtle-necks and winter fleece that the other patrons were mostly tourists, although two tables down Mom recognized someone she knew. I couldn't wait anymore. I had to order the famous French Pepper Steak as soon as possible. Jay, our waiter, was super attentive, as is everyone on the Double Musky staff for as long as I've been going there. He gave us some great suggestions, took care of my non-alcoholic beverage needs with a smile, let me finger the new cookbook and even got the owner to sign it for us! He posed for our photos, took some of us, and really gave us a great time. But the food is what people come here for, so I guess I'd better tell you about that: (Hold onto yourselves, now). We started with piping hot fresh cheese bread, a few legs of delectable king crab in season with drawn butter, and of course, the famous French pepper steak tips, deep-fried in a black-pepper crust and drizzled with brown sauce. I honestly can't describe accurately enough just how damn good those tips are. But let me put it to you this way: spicy, sweet, a tad salty, tangy, mouth-wateringly juicy, soft and crispy all at one time. The average person could probably be satisfied with a glass of wine, a few appetizers and a salad, since the Double Musky's portions are really generous for the price. But we couldn't contain ourselves. We had to order an entree, too. Mom ordered the breaded prawns with great satisfaction. Me being Pepperqueen, I went straight for the jambalaya, something really hard to find in Japan. The last time I had Double Musky's jambalaya, I was with my best friend who dared me with a frisky grin to try a few forkfulls of his. It was so spicy I felt it for the next two days. But 10 years later, married to a Korean and used to a daily diet of spicy kochu-jang and kimchi, I thought maybe I'd become adult enough. I could take it. I asked Jay about the spiciness. He said "we make it only two ways - hot and hotter." I ordered the hotter. It was amazing. Not as spicy as I imagined but man, I could identify every single spice and herb they used and the harmony was just beautiful. Delicious plump shrimp, intriguingly spicy sausage and a plethora of buttery sauteed veggies. Zoning out on the happy hum and pleasant vibes I was feeling with all the good flavors going round in my mouth, watching my Mom's contented smile, nodding in agreement with the wise comedic mantras on the walls, I realized it's good to be Alaskan. It's good to be Alaskan. AND THANK GOD THEY HAVE A COOKBOOK!We finished off with the dieter's nemesis: the Double Musky Cake, too sweet and delicious to describe. All through my Alaskan vacation I was really good about keeping my food choices sane: no sugar, cheese or mayonnaise, vegetarian as much as possible and hold the desserts. But the whipped cream on that cake reminded me of the beautiful snows of the Harding Ice Field. It was calling my name. One splurge, one last dip into the sugary Arctic snows. I'd better stop before my writing stops making sense. Anyways, it was a remarkable cake. And nope, the place didn't lose any of its charm or sweetness over the years. The Double Musky Inn is exactly as welcoming and wonderful as I remember it. I'm so glad that some things never change. God bless the Persons family, and God Bless the Double Musky Inn!   2008-12-13T09:58:28-08:00

817070116

2008-08-18T17:00:00-07:00

0 16 219841

8007716

266639

0.0

2008-08-18T17:00:00-07:00

Published

0.0 No Longer Alaska's Best-Kept Culinary Secret

2008-12-13T11:42:12-08:00

92810