A Little Family History: Sunset West.

In spring of 1971, my grandfather opened the Dory King in Pacific City, Oregon. It was
a small family diner, catering to the fisherman that launched their boats off the sand at Cape Kiwanda. The Dory King's life as a small diner didn't last long. The original building was remodeled in 1975, after a few banner years of business. The result was Sunset West, a restaurant and lounge that was my first experience in the business.

Sunset West was really nothing special, I wouldn't consider it gourmet by any stretch of th meaning. It was a greasy spoon, but it was my family's greasy spoon. Great breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. The typical things that you would see in any family restaurant. But there was great attention to detail. Nearly everything was made in-house. Grandpa was, and is a stickler for good ingredients.

In the late seventies, they added Chinese food to the menu, and brought in Sam, a Hong Kong born chef, to handle that side of the kitchen. It was, of course, your average corn starch laden Cantonese menu; Sweet and sour pork, chow mein, egg foo young, etc. There was an art to it, nonetheless. I fell in love with General Tso's chicken , and Kung Pao-style dishes. To this day, they are still the measure that I judge other Chinese restaurants by.

In 1982, they sold the restaurant to a young couple, and retired to the riverfront in Milwaukie, Oregon. Their retirement was short-lived. Soon the payments made to my grandparents by the young couple ceased, and Grandpa got a letter from the IRS, saying that he was getting the business back, as the couple had neglected to pay their taxes for the restaurant. So back to Pacific City they went.

Upon their not-so-triumphant-return to the coast, they threw themselves into the business once again. Eighty hour weeks were not uncommon for Grandpa. Grandma Phyllis got her little beauty salon going in a space near the front of the building. The lounge upstairs was always booming, with my Uncle Bret playing Rock and Blues, five night a week. It was always an illicit treat, when they let us kids upstairs before the bar opened at noon. It always made me feel like a VIP, being able to walk in through the kitchen, saying hi to Sam and the rest of the kitchen employees. All the machines endlessly fascinating to me. I loved the smell of the deep-fryers, the way that all the stainless steel looked when clean. Racks of knives, stacks of pots and pans, boxes of fresh produce taller than I was at the time. Then, my very favorite part; the walk-ins'. I still love big refrigerators and freezers. Something about those whole prime-rib roasts stacked five tall, whole halibut and salmon, bins of fresh crab and shrimp nestled in ice, these are firmly implanted in my mind.

I never cared much for the pantry section, save the Asian ingredients. There were big piles of black mushrooms, dried chilies, ginger and garlic. Dried spices by the jar, the musky scent of Chinese Curry powder, and the camphor aroma of Bay Leaves.

In 1999, Sunset West closed its doors for the last time, and a chapter of my life came to a close. So the days spent at Sunset West became the memories of childhood.

Is it any wonder that food is my main passion, my art form, my obsession? Why did I take so long to being writing about it? I put pen to paper, and fingers to computer, and words come out. When I write about food, I never get writers block, my prose seems to flow effortlessly. It feels more natural than anything I've ever known.

Now, on the twenty-third of this month, I start my own chapter of the family tradition, as I head back into a beautiful kitchen again. I'm starting near the bottom of the food chain, as there are many things I need to learn again. I will make my Grandfather proud.

Thanks for reading this. Hopefully this gives you some insight into my life and history.

Gabriel