A restaurant born of grit, guts and a great time

Connie Stone, a 35-year-old single mom with a singular vision, always knew that some day she'd own a restaurant. She knew it when she was heading off to college at 17, knew it when she graduated four years later with a liberal-arts degree and knew it during the next 13 years spent waiting tables and bartending in restaurants that weren't her own.

Late last month, Stone's dream came true when she and her best friend and business partner, Roo McKenna, opened Wild Mountain Cafe (1408 N.W. 85th St., Seattle; 206-297-WILD).

It has been a wild ride since Stone purchased the former Crown Hill residence and, armed with attitude and a sledgehammer, began an extensive remodel.

"We are the Martha Stewarts of tomorrow!" boasts Stone, who, with McKenna's assistance, spent a year and a half bashing out walls, peeling dried wood, priming, painting, scoring funky secondhand furniture, tableware and kitchen equipment and engaging in the lengthy restaurant-permitting process.

"We've had a great time," she says, describing their transformation of the 48-seat restaurant with its broad fireplace in the front room, full bar in a former bedroom and "homemade" tabletops they've crafted with tile scrounged while beachcoming in Magnolia.

Stone and McKenna hired chef Anthony Mylott, who, like Stone, is an alumnus of the 5 Spot on Queen Anne. The trio call their menu "Blended Cuisine" — best translated, from the looks of their dinner offerings, as comfort food meets New American.

In addition to appetizers, soups, salads and a couple of vegetarian entrees, it features such "Wild Mountain Mainstays" as "The Bird" (roasted rosemary-and-garlic-rubbed chicken, $14.75), "Momma's Ribs" (served with polenta, hand-cut onion rings and spicy greens, $16.25), and a "Double-Wide" pork chop stuffed with wild mushrooms ($16.75).

Wild Mountain Cafe serves weekday lunch from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., weekend breakfast from 8:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. and dinner every day but Tuesday (when the joint's closed) from 4 to 10 p.m.

Rover's improves with age

"What do you do when you've been open 15 years?" asks Thierry Rautureau, owner/chef of Rover's (2808 E. Madison St., Seattle; 206-325-7442), before answering his own question.

Turns out the nationally acclaimed chef, whose mighty multicourse menu degustation is now in full spring swing — is giving himself an anniversary gift: He's remodeling and expanding his Madison Valley restaurant.

Plans include doubling the size of the kitchen, re-landscaping the courtyard for a new reception area, and finding on-site storage space for an additional 3,000 bottles of fine wine, presently stored off-premises.

"That's big excitement here," says Rautureau, whose customers will reap the rewards of a more comfortable waiting area as well as a greatly expanded wine list.

With plans still in the "contractor phase," Rautureau says Rover's is scheduled for a two-week closure in early June and expects to reopen by midmonth. Meanwhile, the "Chef in the Hat" just returned from a quick trip to the East Coast. There he joined a not-so-coy coterie of famous four-star chefs (including Le Bernadin's Eric Ripert, Aquavit's Marcus Samuelsson and the late Jean-Louis Palladin,) who've made ad-campaign history by posing au natural while holding a discreetly placed Vita-Mix blender. Expect to see Rautureau's beefcake-shot unveiled in FoodArts magazine this summer. You'll recognize him: In the name of modesty, he kept his hat on.

Memories of Chef Tell

I don't expect we'll see chef Tell Erhardt posing in the buff while promoting a blender anytime soon, but he did turn up in Tacoma last week promoting a cause near and dear to his heart: heart-healthy cuisine.

"Chef Tell" — as he's been known to fans since his rise to fame in the '70s as one of the early TV-chef success stories — battles diabetes and has dropped 60 pounds and lowered his cholesterol level by 100 points by adjusting fat-, salt- and sugar-heavy recipes to make them "heart-healthy."

Last week he shared his secrets for culinary success at "Cook up a Long Life," part of Franciscan Health System's ongoing series, "Create a Healthy New You."

I caught up with Chef Tell early last week by phone as he was winding down after a busy lunch at Chef Tell's Manor House on the Delaware, in Bucks County, Pa. The reason for my call had nothing to do with his visit, his health, his cookbooks, his instructive videos or even his two restaurants (he also owns Chef Tell's Grand Old House in the Grand Cayman Islands).

Truth be told, I was calling to bust his chops about busting mine.

When I was growing up in Philadelphia, the bushy-haired chef with the thick German accent and the locally based PBS cooking show was a demi-god in my eyes, known for his famous tag line, "I('ll) see you!"

Early in my waitressing career, while working at the Jersey Shore, I was on duty one night when the celebrity chef and three companions showed up with several bottles of wine in hand. They were led to my station, and I'm not ashamed to admit it: I was a nervous wreck.

According to Jersey law, I wasn't supposed to open their wine (the restaurant had no liquor license, and we offered corkscrews and glasses but no wine service), but Chef Tell asked me to take the wine in back and open it there.

I did his bidding, shoving the various corks back into the bottles before returning them to his table. Later, when I stopped by to inquire about dinner, Chef Tell held a cork aloft and, in that oh-so-familiar accent, said: "Tell me something. How did this cork get into this bottle?"

Hey! What did I know? I was 18, and my idea of a great wine was Blue Nun!

I've told that story often in the decades since, and last week had the great pleasure of telling it to Tell. I just couldn't resist sharing it with you. Till next week, readers, "I see you!"

Nancy Leson can be reached at 206-464-8838 or nleson@seattletimes.com. More columns at www.seattletimes.com/columnists.