REVIEW FROM COLORS NORTHWEST

Taste Buds: Waid’s

A.V. Crofts

Haitian-born Waid Sainvil’s inspiration to open Seattle’s only Haitian restaurant and nightclub last July was both practical and prophetic.

“I missed Haitian food and had to go to New York City to get it, which is a long trip,” Sainvil says. “I decided to open up a Haitian restaurant so I wouldn’t have to travel so far.” Waid’s opened on Sainvil’s birthday, and the menu was clearly a gift to himself. With the appealing array of dishes Sainvil has hired local Haitian women to create, it now all but assures that Waid’s eponymous dreadlocked owner will be holding court when you stop by with an appetite for what he refers to as, “French cuisine with a suntan.”

In the tradition of many of its Caribbean neighbors, Haitian cuisine owes its flavors and staples to a combination of indigenous recipes and ingredients blended with a bitter history of colonialism and slavery. “Haiti is the closest culture in the new world to Africa,” says Sainvil. French, Spanish and West African cooking techniques join with Arawak Amerindian regional food and cultural underpinnings to produce dishes that are informed by outside influences but remain distinctly original.

In the way that Arawak culinary traditions survive amidst new influences, one particular tradition that still permeates many aspects of Haitian life is their Voodoo religion, which despite the threat from colonizing powers keeps a strong foothold in Haitian culture. Which brings us back to Sainvil, the modern-day Voodoo prophet whose temple is Waid’s. “The only thing we need to have is love,” Sainvil says, “It is the most powerful energy in the universe.” Voodoo includes the worship of iwa, or spirits, and Waid’s resident spirit is the goddess of love, or Erzulie. Captured in a stunning oil painting in Waid’s main dining room (and her ancient symbol inked down Sainvil’s inner arm), Erzulie is considered the muse of beauty, the provider of feasts, and the embodiment of compassion, making her the perfect icon for Sainvil’s message.

“I loved the stars as a child. I used to spend hours on the roof looking at them. When I was 14 years old I had a dream and in my dream there’s an old man who said he realizes that I have been looking at him,” says Sainvil. “The old man then told him many things and I wrote half of it down. A year and a half ago I had the same dream. The old man told me, ‘I’m here to refresh your memory from 24 years ago.’ The message was to ‘remind mankind to love.’ ” Many view careful preparation and presentation of food as an extension of love, and Waid’s Erzulie is therefore the holy hostess of Seattle’s Central District neighborhood.

Waid’s menu provides both appetizer and entrée choices that span the Haitian cuisine spectrum, with a tempting list of libations that complement the main courses and also remind diners that Waid’s doubles as a place where the after-hours crowd dance the night away (as if the disco ball and immense dance floor didn’t give it away already). “I wanted to create a menu that was approachable,” says Sainvil. “As you read it you should feel that it’s alive.” Instead of rote descriptions, the menu reads as if Sainvil is explaining each dish to you in person, down to the slang and salutations (“Wassup!”).
From humble soups to coveted centerpiece dishes, I found the portions at Waid’s generous, the presentation both creative and colorful, and the drinks strong enough to renew your faith in bartenders. One night my dining companion and I started our meal with an order of the Akra ($5), or Haitian fritters. I’ve got a fondness for fritters, as they are found across cultures and are a good example of the whole besting the sum of its parts. Waid’s satisfying fritters combine the starchy goodness of taro with the zest of sautéed shallots, punctuated by cooked black-eyed peas and a sprinkle of diced peppers.

A more unusual appetizer is the Chiktay ($5), which has Arawak origins. The simple salted cod spread combines garlic, shallots and olive oil to form a savory topping for the provided sliced baguette, but with a stealthy kick of heat that may send the delicate-tongued in search of ice-water reserves. Another night I ordered the Kibi ($5), which while again using the shallot and garlic building blocks, combines ground beef and cooked wheat as the primary ingredients. I found a far more memorable appetizer that night: the Joumous Cup ($3), a pumpkin soup with carrots and Haitian spices. The hearty soup was a dazzle of tender orange carrot coins and the smooth pumpkin base, but more importantly, it tasted wonderful. According to Sainvil, the soup was traditionally reserved for colonial slave owners in Haiti, but after independence in 1804, Haitians of all backgrounds delighted in socializing over a bowl of Joumous. A soup like this alone will keep me coming back to Waid’s to ward off the chill of Seattle winter.

There are also entrées that are worth a return visit. For vegetarians, the Legume ($10) is a satisfying eggplant dish made with onions, summer squash and other seasonal vegetables and cooked to true tenderness with Haitian spices. Waid’s Ekrevis Lakay ($12) is a rich coconut curry that features shrimp as the main attraction. While I think the menu’s claim that these shrimp could pass for lobster is a touch too enthusiastic, it is a satisfying dish. Finally, for those looking for hard-to-find goat, Waid’s Taso ($13) dish presents cubed goat cooked with cloves, onions, garlic, and green peppers. My dining companion/goat enthusiast pronounced it delicious.

All of Waid’s entrées are served with a double dose of starch: a welcome serving of rice and fried plantains. Haitian fried plantains are “pressed” by first cutting the plantains into coins and frying them partially in oil, then transferring them to a wooden mechanism that flattens the plantain before returning it to the hot oil for the final cooking. The result is a crispy version that in my opinion has a short shelf life and not as much appeal as plantains that are fried once to leave a little gooey goodness in the center. In addition to rice and plantains, entrées are also served with an array of sides: cooked green beans, standard potato salad, basic cooked beets and a five-alarm coleslaw that is laced with peppers certain to wake you up – fast.

Instead of reaching for water to cool your post-coleslaw burn, might I suggest one or two of Waid’s drink specialties? My favorites included the Raspberry Lemon Drop ($7.50) and the Naughty Girl Lemonade ($7.50). For those in search of less creative bevvies, Waid’s boasts a full bar and the wait staff can happily bring you a trusty PBR for pocket change.

Sainvil’s message of love and tolerance (“Waid’s is a place where all human beings are welcome: black, white, gay, straight”) has been tested early, as the realities of nightclubs and residential neighborhood commingling meant noise complaints by local residents on Jefferson Street. Sainvil found himself in the midst of a heated debate concerning not only the future of Waid’s but proposed city legislation in the form of a “Nightlife Ordinance,” proposed by Mayor Greg Nickel’s office. The space Waid’s now occupies was also a nightclub and Sainvil has responded by investing significantly in noise-reduction projects at Waid’s to address the problem. According to Sainvil, these efforts have paid off. “From day one, I’ve been taking care of the noise issue,” he says, “Neighbors didn’t want this kind of club in the neighborhood, but I knew I wasn’t going to lose because love is the most powerful energy.”

Has love won the day? Sainvil answers, “Always.”