Image: Olivia Brent

This is your moment to visit Humble Pie on Rainier Avenue—not just because the overwhelming majority of its seating is outside, but because your summer houseguests are clamoring for the quintessential local restaurant. Not even the Space Needle delivers a stiffer shot of Seattle than this (mostly) organic pizza joint. The place is hand built of recycled materials (even the stools) by its LEED-certified architect owner. It smokes its own GMO-free pulled pork, supports tiny Seattle breweries, imports fewer than five ingredients from out of state, processes its own rainwater, and fundraises for local artists. And did I mention the chicken coop?

Go ahead, snicker—but dismiss the Seattle joint that outearnests Portland at your peril. Architect-pizzamaker Brian Solazzi crafts a killer wood-fired crust, thin but with plenty of spring in the chew, upon which he assembles combinations like organic Fuji apples, Beecher’s Flagship cheese, and bacon or smoked eggplant with cherry tomatoes and red onions. His aptly named Whole Hog has prosciutto, pulled pork, and bacon. When pies err it’s on the side of blandness—some thin perhaps on toppings—but the vivid arugula–pickled onion–-kalamata-chevre salad with the leggy vinaigrette will help. So will the undersize prices.

And so will the beverages: a thoughtful list of boutique brews, wine, Mexican coke, and ciders. Best of all is the breezy community of the place, where neighbors roll up on bikes to share pies, growlers, picnic tables, and visits with the chickens. Outside its environs at the confluence of the International District, the Central District, and Rainier Valley—Humble Pie’s the best-kept secret in town. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Overstuffed po' boys amid rustic sweetness at Roux.

                                       Aragona                   96 Union St at First Ave                                     Downtown                                 206-682-3590            aragonaseattle.com $$$$

AragonaSpanish                       

Artiste chef Jason Stratton (Cascina Spinasse, Artusi) has brought his highly singular vision of a Spanish regional restaurant to a long, windowy, casual space downtown—drawing an odd mix of hipster -Strattonophiles and tourists from nearby hotels. No paellas or classic tapas here; instead one finds innovations like a salpicón made with Northwest glories like Shigoku oysters and Asian pear or a Russian salad (a staple in Spain) crafted of Dungeness crab. If the salad tastes a little “one note,” that’s a common failing in this kitchen whose next composition might hit it out of the park. Do not miss the enchanting bar, or, for dessert, the sublime xuxos caseros—crisp-fried pastry filled with vanilla cream and dusted with, swoon, truffle salt.  
 

                    Cassis
2820 Alki Ave SW
West Seattle
206-743-8531
cassisalki.com $$$

The French bistro that stole Seattle’s heart in the ’90s, returns in a storefront along the Alki shore. When dishes fail it’s toward blandness, so seek your genuinely charming waiter’s advice (we’ve enjoyed the bistro burger, the steak frites, and a seriously extraordinary housemade chicken-liver pate) and enjoy the gracious welcome and the panoramic view through its rollup doors. 
 

                    Red Cow
1423 34th Ave
Madrona
206-454-7932
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

A French bistro menu, a fleet of crisp-white-shirted waiters, and a bubbling crowd greet diners in this fourth iteration of the minimalist cement-walled space on the Madrona strip—the best iteration yet. The reason? The steak-frites lineup, offering five cuts of meat up the ladder of price points with a choice of four sauces—a swell match to how the Madrona mix of families and young professionals want to eat. (No need to venture beyond the $21 hanger steak, btw; it’s plenty tender and flavorful.) Beyond that, the Ethan Stowell quality control in the kitchen is amply evident across bistro classics; if it’s available don’t miss the lush goat cheese–mushroom tartine. Great bar. 

                    Roux
4201 Fremont Ave N
Fremont
206-547-5420
restaurantroux.com $$$

The bricks-and-mortar version of fabled New Orleans food truck, Where Ya At Matt?—Roux on the Fremont Avenue hill radiates rustic Southern sweetness in a high-ceilinged room with red tufted booths and a central open kitchen. Lunch may be the best time to visit, when sunlight streams in the windows and the menu lists nearly a dozen varieties of po’boy sandwich—of which the oyster version is the finest in town. Evenings when the lights go down, the music goes up, the mixologist clocks in, and prices gently rise—Roux’s plates of Creole classics can be terrific, particularly the shrimp and grits. If braised rabbit leg with mustard greens over corn-bread puree is on the menu—order it. And save room for swoony beignets.

                    Tallulah's
550 19th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-860-0077
aneighborhoodcafe.com $$

Slackers who once hauled hangovers to brunch at Linda’s Tavern are married and mortgaged Mad Men now, preferring their neighborhood restaurants sophisticated and their Bombay Sapphire tonics with a pinch of ginger. For them there’s Tallulah’s, from the very same Linda (Derschang, who has also brought us King’s Hardware, Oddfellows, Smith, and Bait Shop): A classy, glassy marvel of midcentury good taste amid the fine homes of North Capitol Hill, where aging hipsters chat loudly beneath floating globe pendants, enjoying weekend brunches like chunky corned beef hash with poached eggs, and evening noshes (topped flatbreads, veggie small plates) and healthy mains. Cocktails are creative, coffee is Stumptown, “gluten-free” and “vegan” are carefully marked on the menu, and a welcoming staff scatters bonhomie about the room. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Walking in through the corner doorway of Brimmer and Heeltap, what I spied wasn’t one restaurant. I saw dozens.

Le Gourmand, of course, which defined Northwest cuisine from this dark little corner of Ballard for 27 years. It’s dark no more; the first thing owner Jen Doak did upon acquiring the space was unblock its windows, lighting even further the whitewashed farmhouse look she was creating. Other restaurants show up too, in the form of lessons from Doak’s years in the industry: from Ray’s Boathouse, the significance of outdoor tables in sun-starved Seattle; from Taste, the importance of flow; from Tilth, that ineffable essential called welcome. Enter Brimmer and Heeltap, and Doak’s warm greeting will be the most genuine thing that’s happened to you all day.

Doak collected advice, like Hire to your weakness from Le Pichet and Cafe Presse’s co-owner Joanne Herron, and searched for a chef as strong in the kitchen as she planned to be in the dining room. She wrote down the qualities she wanted in a chef and partner and they kept adding up to her old pal, Mike Whisenhunt.  

I could see him from the door, holding forth in the newly open kitchen, sauteing bits of octopus with root vegetables in chili oil perhaps, or unleashing a bonito flake snowstorm across a mizuna–pickled cherry salad. In short: rocking his own novel renditions of the Korean fusion he learned at the knee of his mentors Rachel Yang and Seif Chirchi, his bosses at Coupage, then Joule, and ultimately Revel. 

There’s a whole lot of Revel in this menu, a concise roundup of appetizer snacks, vegetable plates, seafood dishes, meats, and desserts (most served as larges or smalls to create an affordable way to snack around). It’s so solid, I’ve dined here twice as a critic and still can’t call the best. Off the snack list, for instance, I could vote for the striking beet plate, with its halved baby beets, drizzled with sweet, fiery orange glaze, then topped with a caramelized slice of roasted fennel bulb and playfully scattered chives. Like all of Whisenhunt’s cooking, this was intelligent and entire; nothing extraneous, nothing wanting. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Or it could be the one-and-a-half-inch-thick slice of Grand Central Bakery Como loaf, drenched in butter and gilded hotly to a salted and peppered crust. You eat it with a knife and fork, like a bread steak; if it’s not the wickedest thing you’ve put in your mouth all day, then you’re living the dream. Maybe it’s the pickled oyster shooter preserved, with soy sauce and vinegar, to an improbably perfect just-softened texture. It comes in a shot glass, submerged in a boozy, sweet, spicy juice of soju and kimchi. Whooyah! 

So flavorfully and texturally buoyant are these dishes, they ricochet across the palate like gustatory pinballs. A heaping plateful of English peas arrived blanched to the tooth, their softened crunch freshened with mint, then dolloped with creme fraiche and a curl of sassy pickled carrots: It tasted like sunlight in a garden. Another mouthfiller featured strips of decadently fatty smoked lamb shoulder with a saute of soy-pickled green garlic and charred spring onions and paper-thin daikon radishes in a black bean vinaigrette. Very Korean—except, of course, for the lamb, a meat one barely spies in that cuisine but whose gamey smokiness makes an inspired foil for the fierce fermentation. This was sublime.

Whisenhunt’s trick, lifted from the Yang/Chirchi playbook, is serving familiar dishes with a rogue element subbed in for fusion. That explains the bonito flakes lending umami to the exquisite mizuna-cherry salad in place of Western bacon. It explains the broiled pork shoulder with green apple kimchi—a sumptuous spectacle of brining and harmony, and an Eastern take on classic Americana pork and apples.

Sometimes all these elements will overshadow the star, as in a salmon special that tasted solely of its turmeric–brown sugar–chili lime vinaigrette cloak. That prime filet of bread is pretty much it for starches. Desserts are inconsistent: Witness a coconut meringue–key lime tart with tamarind caramel that was luscious on one visit, chalky and bland the next. 

And that exhausts the minus column at Brimmer and Heeltap—unless you want to address the manifest disconnect between setting and food. Doak chose the publike name—brimmer being the Brit drinking term for an overflowing glass and heeltap for the last undrinkable dreg—to evoke all the richness that comes between. The decor—winsome and whitewashed with exposed studs in the wall openings, those openings lined with rows of bottle vases waving single chrysanthemum stems—looks ripped from a Real Simple photo spread. Across the vases, in the former quarters of Le Gourmand’s spinoff cocktail haunt Sambar, the floor is shellacked with pennies. Outside in the sweet sliver of a courtyard, sunlight through wisteria and climbing roses shifts patterns across galvanized patio tables. 

None of which exactly telegraphs Korean fusion. But there’s a soulful surehandedness to both place and plate at Brimmer and Heeltap, and it proves uniting. We arrived on a warm summer night, warmed further by Doak’s greeting, and were led past a bar lined with chattering regulars, past Le Gourmand’s old kitchen (which she opened to eliminate the time-honored front-of-house, back-of-house divide), through rooms filled with sighing eaters—many of them Doak’s myriad friends and friends of friends whose multiple wisdoms literally built this enterprise. 

That explains the penny floor. “One penny to each person is insignificant, but together they make something amazing,” she muses. “It’s the team it takes to run a restaurant. It’s about the sum of the parts.”

Image: Olivia Brent

A former bank space now houses the London Plane, the latest, though most vivid, of Seattle’s new market-restaurants.

Elegant beauty isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when raising a ragged forkful of sprouting brassica-potato salad to your mouth, especially when gazing out upon the various urban constituencies—the sports fans, the techie swells, the huddled down-and-outers—of Pioneer Square. But here in this district that’s been birthed and rebirthed since its founding as Seattle’s original neighborhood, none of those revivals matter nearly so much as the one that’s drawn day diners by the score to declare Pioneer Square the lunch capitol of Seattle. 

The London Plane, the breakfast, brunch, and lunch project of restaurateur Matt Dillon, is the latest to catch lunchers’ eye—and elegant beauty is why. They adore its airy two-level interior, a former bank, all clean lined and right angled, with views out soaring windows of the Occidental Mall and perhaps the finest full frontal there is of the Smith Tower. They love the eloquence of its country-house aesthetic—the white-washed brick, the chrome-and-glass pendants, the wood tables, the glossy gunmetal wall posts, the crisply railed loft, the celestial blue ceiling. They love the open kitchen with its bakery and its deli case and especially its floral shop, its fleets of staff hefting bushels of hydrangeas or arranging heavy-headed dahlias in oversize celadon vases—in short, painting a Jane Austen dream of the English countryside, right down to the cobblestones and leafy London plane trees outside. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Pastries are a rightful big deal here.

But it’s not only beautiful, and that is Matt Dillon’s savvy. When he conceived of the London Plane, Dillon was already a seasoned restaurateur (Sitka and Spruce, the Corson Building, Bar Ferd’nand, Bar Sajor) and he knew he wanted something different, more of a market, a place where someone could drop in for lunch, buy flowers, take home a salad or two from the deli. He talked partnership with lots of kindred spirits—forager Jeremy Faber, Russ Flint of Rain Shadow Meats, the Marigold and Mint floral landscape designer Katherine Anderson—but once the dust settled, only Anderson remained. “We both workwith things that come out of the ground,” Dillon says in that airily earthy way he patented. “When they’re sitting around a table, most people want more flora than just what there is to eat.”

The London Plane is but the latest, though most vivid, of the recent run of market-restaurants; places like the Whale Wins and Westward where food service and retail coexist in a consumerist symbiosis that sends, above all, a message of plenty. 

Here is how that plenty might look on the lunch table: an assortment of four spreads—roasted red pepper thickened with ground cashews, the bright and milky yogurt condiment raita sweet with caramelized spring onions, vivid magenta beet hummus with harissa oil, green olive spread enriched with pine nuts—smeared on a platter alongside slices of thick, housemade brown sourdough and cracklier salt-flocked lavash. We ordered three salads off the vegetables and grains list. Part of the bounty of this place is
the fact that it all manages to taste satisfying together: I still dream of a salad of chicken, trofie pasta, and lentils brightened with nettles, walnuts, and feta; each bite completed the one before.

Sure, sometimes it’s the kind of satisfying your hippie aunt used to whip up out of the grains and veggies in her fridge—does anyone love kohlrabi so much that a salad of it, raw, with fennel and radishes is a fascinating experience? But the vegetables are pristine and the flavors robust, and they’re good fun to eat against one of the meat plates, like blushing slices of lamb leg on tzatziki or spicy pork meatballs.

There’s something oh so ladies lunching about this civilized spot (Dillon allows himself a barely perceptible eye roll when he calls the Little London Plane, the event space and wine bar annex at the other end of the block, “the bridal shower capitol of Seattle”)—but the food isn’t delicate at all. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Roasted and marinated zucchini, currants, toasted seeds, and scallions.

Flavors are bold and untempered, as in a brunch featuring dill-heavy salmon rillettes, with pickled sea beans and fiddle-heads for pucker, alongside a plate of toast spread thickly with hazelnut butter and drizzled with honey and sea salt. Cultured dairy is, per Dillon’s usual, all over the place—there it is in the tzatziki and the smooth rhubarb lassi drink; in the raita and the triple cream yogurt with roasted cherries for brunch. Pastries are a rightful big deal too—strawberry cake, cardamom cake, gateau Basque and more, perfect of crumb and stopping short of oversweet. Servers are unassailably friendly but prone to letting coffee go cool and neglecting to explain the salads or spreads they presented.

Not your classic brunch menu—not a strip of bacon in the house—but a showcase, as it happens, for some of Dillon’s more potent inclinations. The London Plane may be a masterpiece of delicacy—but its food swaggers.



This article appeared in the September 2014 issue of Seattle Met. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Fogón tacos.

Fogón Cocina Mexicana    

600 E Pine St, Capitol Hill, 206-320-7777; fogonseattle.com

• Pedigree: A supersweet Michoacan family
• Eat this: Beautifully seasoned and smoky char-grilled chicken tacos on homemade tortillas
• Drink this: A stiff Ultimate margarita, which arrives in a shaker
• Authentic-O-Meter: Not terribly, but so cheap and tasty that nobody cares 
• Claim to Fame: A gratis tostada for every guest
• Avoid: Arriving too late in the teeming happy hours (3 to 6pm, 9pm to close), as you will suffer a wait and/or hearing loss

Image: Olivia Brent

Nacho Borracho's spicy molasses chicken wings.

    Nacho Borracho   

     209 Broadway E, Capitol Hill, 206-466-2434
     nachoborrachoseattle.com 

• Pedigree: Owned by the great Rachel Marshall (Montana, Rachel’s Ginger Beer) and Kate Opatz (Montana)
• Drink this: Slushy Moscow mules gush from machines here like Slurpees. Not to be missed on a hot day. Or a cold one.
• Authentic-O-Meter: It’s the most authentic munchies dive in town anyway, complete with black walls and bar smell.
• Claim to Fame: The Totchos—nachos made of tater tots and beloved primarily of the hungover and the stoned  
• Avoid Hate to say it…but the nachos. They’re
  skimpy and average.

 

 

Image: Olivia Brent

Molé, a sweet and complex and rich concoction inside a pork tamale swaddled in a banana leaf.

La Cocina Oaxaqueña  

1216 Pine St, Capitol Hill, 206-623-8226;
lacocinaoaxaquena.com

Pedigree: A different branch of the family that brought us the stunning La Carta de Oaxaca/Mezcaleria Oaxaca trio—separate businesses with nearly identical menus. 
Drink this: Exceptional sangria. By the carafe. On the big, breezy, loud Pine Street patio.
Authentic-O-Meter: Pretty dang high, especially the fish dishes and that freakishly delectable molé
Claim to Fame: Fried-to-order chips with a four-choice salsa bar
Avoid: The bland guacamole
 

 

 

Mezcaleria Oaxaca   

422 E Pine St, Capitol Hill, 206-324-0506;
mezcaleriaoaxaca.com

Pedigree: The second mezcal-happy offshoot from the hallowed Carta de Oaxaca family boasts slick and streamlined decor.
Eat this: Break away from the molé and try the killer halibut tacos.
Drink this: Mezcal, fool—35 kinds, by the flight or single shot
Authentic-O-Meter: Order the barbacoa—roasted goat with handmade tortillas and a trip to the salsa bar—then you tell us.
Claim to Fame: The broad rooftop deck with skyscraper views, undercover heat lamps…and the promise of a taco truck
Avoid:  Expectations of happy hour. There isn’t one. 

 

This article appeared in the September 2014 issue of Seattle Met. 

Sutra in Wallingford.

Altura
9617 Broadway E
Capitol Hill
206-402-6749 alturarestaurant.com $$$

AlturaItalian                       

Small yet generous, modest yet gloriously self-­assured—Altura (which in Italian means both “height” and “profound depth”) spins its delicate web of opposites in a candlelit space on North Broadway. Chef and owner Nathan Lockwood hails from the private dining club the Ruins, where he developed an eye for rococo decadence—one formidable angel hangs from the rafters—and a gift for making diners feel like treasured guests. Service is notably stunning. All this praise and we haven’t even gotten to the food: Northwest seasonal ingredients gone Italian rustic—then pushed through an elegance sieve. So off a weekly changing menu, slices of Muscovy duck might come fanned over red cabbage with crumbled amaretti and caramel-roasted turnip; scallops may be dusted with fennel pollen alongside grilled radicchio and fennel. In a refreshing departure from convention one can assemble three-, four-, or five-course meals from all parts of the menu—three starters, for instance, or four mains (apportioned accordingly)—along with an a la carte option. But whatever you do, don’t skip dessert.  Closed Sun & Mon.

                    Art of the Table
1054 N. 39th St
Wallingford
206-282-0942
artofthetable.net $$$$

One of the best of the unrestaurants, this teensy six-table Wallingford room with the butter-yellow walls and the World Beat music also serves careful, delectable food: eight courses, Fridays and Saturdays (a la carte midweek), along a seasonal theme that chef Dustin Ronspies shyly narrates from the kitchen door. (This may include a sermonette, be warned, about the virtue of eating communally.) The charming Ronspies is a gifted chef, turning out dishes marked by subtle contrasts and textural interplay: smoky poussin with sweet spring vegetables and yam puree, perhaps, or thin-sliced red and golden beets over whipped chevre on flaky pastry. If it’s summer you may get nasturtium petals strewn across your salad and a “full moon” of honey panna cotta for dessert—fun dishes to speed the bonding with the other foodophiles at your table.
 

                    Bar Sajor
323 Occidental Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-682-1117
barsajor.com $$

From the restlessly creative mind of Matt Dillon (Sitka and Spruce, the Corson Building) comes his most hyperlocal restaurant—both culinarily and philosophically, as Bar Sajor is driving the revival of Seattle’s original neighborhood, Pioneer Square. The corner space looking out on the ruffly trees of Occidental Mall is lofty and Old World white—like an English farmhouse reclaimed by the Parsons School of Design—anchored with the roaring wood oven that is the kitchen’s only heat source. So food nerds will relish Dillon’s ingenuity of cooking methods: roasting chickens and sumptuous steaks on the fire; fermenting pickles and yogurts and even butter; serving plenty of things raw, including his peerless salads. Libations are terrific, including a full lineup of refreshing vinegar drinks. 

Image: Olivia Brent

The wood oven may be the centerpiece of Bar Sajor--but see those cookbooks?

                    Cafe Juanita
9702 NE 120th Pl
Kirkland
425-823-1505
cafejuanita.com $$$$

It’s the classiest standby on the Eastside, where Holly Smith dances in the footsteps of the venerable Peter Dow. What he began in 1977 she refines and perfects, with high-end Northern Italian food rendered consistently and innovatively. Vivid dishes—like grilled squab with seared foie gras or mushroom-stuffed rabbit leg wrapped in pancetta and served with a chickpea crepe and a fennel and green salad—showcase fastidious attention to perfect ingredients and dazzling creative verve in the kitchen, a verve that stands in appealing contrast to the slightly timeworn room. Warning: Unless you’re familiar with Kirkland’s lakeside community of Juanita, you will not find this hidden spot without help. Closed Mon. 

            Copperleaf Restaurant
18525 36th Ave S
SeaTac
206-214-4282
cedarbrooklodge.com $$$

Driving from Seattle to this destination restaurant at the Cedarbook Lodge retreat facility and hotel is like falling down a 15-mile rabbit hole: You’re in a separate ecosystem, pristine as a terrarium, amid a spongy wetland of ponds and native gardens, dining in a classy hearthside space that’s a cross between the lobby of a Northwest resort and the living room of a very fortunate friend. It’s a suitably Northwest backdrop for determinedly Northwest fare—perhaps venison two ways with celeriac and tart cherries, or spoonable beef short ribs with organic vegetables and stunning truffle beet relish—presented with laudable execution and strict attention to organic, sustainable ingredients. Dishes can err on the side of safe—but for hungry South County–ites (or folks stuck at Sea-Tac airport, just minutes away), that’s a small price to pay for the best food in miles.

                  The Corson Building
5609 Corson Ave S
Georgetown
206-762-3330
thecorsonbuilding.com $$$$

It’s an anomaly all right: a 1910 Italian stonemason’s cottage in industrial Georgetown—wedged hard between a railroad track and an I-5 exit, with planes roaring overhead from Boeing Field—that struck wunderkind chef (the Herbfarm, Sitka and Spruce) Matthew Dillon as just the place to contain his restless vision, a community center for foodies. So there are picnics and chef demos and fundraisers. But mostly, there are dinners, stunning ones, served four or five times a week (see website for schedule) and served family style around long tables in multiple courses, with or without matching wines. All in a room that imparts an Old World dreaminess (an unupholstered—thus loud—Old World dreaminess), arched windows to stucco walls. Dillon’s sources are as impeccable as his culinary imagination, so everything from his shellfish salad to his black cod with treviso greens is microseasonally fresh and innovatively conceived. All in all, it’s much more dinner party than restaurant, and if it’s a little odd for a regular joe, it’s every food snob’s dream.

                    The Herbfarm
14590 NE 145th St
Woodinville
425-485-5300
theherbfarm.com $$$$

It’s the pull-out-all-the-stops, Big Night Out dining room in the state, maybe in three states—and, unlikely of unlikelies, it’s also pretty close to culinarily flawless. Its genesis is the stuff of legend; a couple of humble Fall City gardeners with extra chives began selling their bounty out of a roadside cart, then a small retail shop, where they began turning the herbs into festive lunches, then multicourse dinners. Before long, the charming country restaurant had earned a regional reputation for nine-course feasts built upon a theme—Copper River salmon perhaps in late spring, truffles midwinter. Chefs comb the wilds and the deeps for the freshest seasonal components, then ingeniously combine them into the sorts of preparations that make bold new sense of Northwest plenty: Dungeness crab and spot prawns with apple-fennel salad and a frothy sea urchin sauce; Douglas fir sorbet, a bracing Herbfarm classic; or, during root vegetable week, Wagyu beef short ribs with truffled beets, glazed turnips, and a parsnip praline. It is all served with astutely matched wines off a fathomless list by a staff of courteous pros, and preceded by a lively tutorial from the chef on the herbs and ingredients on offer that evening. There’s a lot that’s unique about the Herbfarm, including its florid baroque decor (whatever isn’t gilded is covered in chintz), its four-hour dinners, its Chilean guitarist, and its lavish formality (Five forks! Five wineglasses!). But for our money, and it’s a lot of money, the gently instructional tone is the best part of the experience, revealing that the heart of this world-class destination remains its earnest and down-to-earth delight in the garden. Reservations essential. Dinner only Thu-Sun.

                    Hitchcock
133 Winslow Way E
Bainbridge Island
206-201-3789
hitchcockrestaurant.com $$$

This sleek dinner house a few blocks from the ferry dock in Winslow sustains a fierce locavorism: A plate of blasted purple broccoli with pine nuts and goat cheese comes from Indianola’s Persephone Farm; the fat Mediterranean mussels with bacon and wood sorrel hail from Taylor Shellfish. Most of the time these local treasures on the long, mutable menu are treated with intention and skill, but consistency is not Hitchcock’s strong point. Put yourself in the chef’s hands by ordering the chef’s tasting menu and know that charcuterie is dependably terrific, both here and at the next-door daytime (10am to 7pm) deli. Great cocktails. 
 

                    Matt's in the Market
94 Pike St, Ste 32
Pike Place Market
206-467-7909
mattsinthemarket.com $$$

It’s Pike Place Market’s neighborhood restaurant, boasting the kind of ever-present crowd and soul-rich vitality that showier joints only dream about. If you haven’t been in a while, you haven’t really been—the “little restaurant that could” busted out its walls and traded up from its butane stove, upgrading its view to iconic status through its pretty half-moon windows (there’s the Market pig!) and enhancing its ability to seat the throngs who come knocking lunch and dinner. The appeal? Fresh, exuberant innovations—perhaps tortilla-crusted halibut with guacamole or savory braised duck leg over lentil pilaf with fig jam—that showcase that day’s bounty from the fishmongers and high-stallers downstairs, at times pleasantly, at times extraordinarily. The pulsing open kitchen (the size of the entire original restaurant) may steal your attention away from the view. Where to bring the out-of-towners. 

                  Poppy
622 Broadway E
Capitol Hill
206-324-1108
poppyseattle.com $$$

So casual and clattering is this hard-edged room with concrete floors and raw beams and giddy splashes of popsicle brights, a person wandering in off the street might never suspect that here lives some of the most sophisticated fare in the Pacific Northwest. After all, it’s Jerry Traunfeld in the kitchen—he who once brought off nine-course feasts at the Herbfarm, and who is now performing a somewhat more modest version of the same endeavor: the seven- or 10-dish platters, thali, he picked up on a research trip to India. So it’s small-plate dining, only with the considerable bonus of the chef choosing the combinations. At Poppy the technique results in some glorious dining: carrot matchsticks exotic with clove and lemon thyme, perhaps, along with gazpacho bright with melon and mint and a chunk of pink albacore with green tomato, peppers, and fennel. This is not Indian food but a Northwest tasting menu, from one of the Northwest’s finest chefs. Starters and desserts, a la carte available for around $5, are unmissable.

Image: Lindsay Borden

Poppy in Capitol Hill.

                  Sitka and Spruce
1531 Melrose Ave E
Capitol Hill
206-324-0662
sitkaandspruce.com $$$

Seattle’s locavore dining scene got prettier the moment intense young practitioner Matt Dillon relocated Sitka from the darkest cranny in Eastlake to perhaps its most radiant height. From tables, counter seats, and a communal board in the sunlight-drenched corner of Melrose Market, diners can survey Seattle’s own Les Halles through vintage panes—there’s the butcher, there’s the blossom shop—or Dillon and crew in the open kitchen, composing the simple, hearty seasonal plates he’s known for. Look for produce adoration, enormous flavors, compulsive seasonality, and more than a few Middle Eastern tweaks—on plates that at lunchtime feel appealingly noshy, like sweet whole carrots over chickpea puree with harissa and fried mint, and at dinnertime may take your breath away.

                    Staple and Fancy
4739 Ballard Ave
Ballard
206-789-1200
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

Hard to say which is more effervescent, the place or the plates, at restaurant magnate Ethan Stowell’s (How to Cook a Wolf, Tavolàta, Anchovies and Olives, Rione XIII) giddiest enterprise. Even when its windows aren’t open onto the sidewalk, the dim, brick-lined, open-kitchen space in the historic Kolstrand Building seems to spill all its sexy cosmopolitan energy out onto Ballard Avenue. The modern Italian food is just as excited: velvety pork liver mousse spread thickly on crostini, perhaps, daurade over eggplant puree speckled with cherry tomatoes and kalamata olives, or mussel brodo with controne beans and green chilies. Flavors are big and bold—sometimes excessively so—and anchored in freshness and seasonality. And “staple” and “fancy” are more than just a nod to the old general store’s name: You can order a la carte—the staple way—or get, well, fancy, putting yourself in the kitchen’s hands for four courses of its choosing, just $45 per person, served family style to the whole table. Do we really need to tell you which one to pick?

                    Stoneburner
5214 Ballard Ave NW 
Ballard
206-695-2051
stoneburnerseattle.com $$$

The best of Deming Maclise and James Weimann’s stage set restaurants (Bastille, Poquito’s, MacLeod’s), this sprawler in the Hotel Ballard recalls early twentieth-century New York with gleaming hardwoods and antique glass. In the kitchen it’s all about the stone hearth oven, the chef at its helm (really named Jason Stoneburner), and the fine blistered pizzas he pulls out of it. It’s also about bushels of seasonal fresh produce, which Stoneburner turns into buoyant salads, antipasti, roasted veggie plates, and pasta innovations. His carmelized cauliflower bedsheet ravioli is just one of the reasons diners have so much fun here. 

                    Sutra
1605 N 45th St
Wallingford
206-547-1348
sutraseattle.com $$$$

Can a restaurant achieve enlightenment? Seattle’s premier vegetarian haunt, perched like a lotus in Wallingford, comes close. Chef and co-owner Colin Patterson wants dining to be intentional and communal: hence, one or two five-course prix-fixe seatings comprise the night, and before dinner he sounds a gentle gong for a collective moment of gratitude. If it all sounds a little woo-woo—oh yes, he also owns a yoga studio—just hang on until the food arrives. Patterson, former chef of the famous Blossoming Lotus on Kauai, is an herbivorous genius. He’ll top a salad of frizzled greens with grilled peach, dill dressing, and julienned strips of cayenne, for instance, or build an ethereal lasagna of—get this—golden beets, creamed spinach, heirloom tomatoes, and figs. Food, in short, to satisfy the most carnivorous skeptic and—against this uniquely wholesome backdrop—feed the soul. 

                  Tilth
1411 N 45th St
Wallingford
206-633-0801
tilthrestaurant.com $$$

In a cozy Wallingford bungalow named for soil at its most fertile, chef Maria Hines reaches for the gold standard of fresh and seasonal food: organic certification. Ninety-five percent of her food comes from certified-organic sources—which means, for the diner, strong flavors that all but leap up off the plate and belt out an anthem. On plates small or large, Hines reveals a pitch-perfect instinct for compatible combinations: smoked Northwest butterfish with chilled mussels, cannellini beans, and caraway creme fraiche, for instance, or crisped pork belly with French lentils, scallion coulis, and tomato vinaigrette. With its hard chairs and unupholstered surfaces, Tilth puts on as few airs as the farmers and foragers and fisherfolk who supply it.

                  Trellis
Heathman Hotel
220 Kirkland Ave
Kirkland
425-284-5900
trellisrestaurant.com $$$

Downtown Kirkland was a pretty sorry place to find yourself with an appetite—until this sleek stunner opened off the lobby of the Kirkland Heathman Hotel. The farm-to-table tagline means that thick steaks cooked to tender succulence may arrive in a sauce electrified with fresh leeks, and homemade ravioli might come stuffed with an herby-sweet winter-squash puree and swathed in a beurre blanc enlivened with powerful bursts of fresh sage and sauteed squash. Chances are the squash, herbs, and leeks were harvested that afternoon, from the chef’s own acreage a few miles north. This earthy orien-tation lends a homegrown flavor to a classy room, lit with the golden hues of California and ringed by a marvelous outdoor (heated) patio.

Image: Olivia Brent

Ambition and Execution Cured Spanish mackerel with umeboshi and Mexican sour gherkins

We were greeted before we’d set a toe inside the door. “Welcome to Restaurant Marron!” the greeter burbled out on the sidewalk. “Have you dined with us before?” Zarina Sakai, who along with her husband Eric Sakai acquired this legendary restaurant space earlier this year, is a host of uncommon enthusiasm. 

Her eagerness is earnest, and it is dear, and it stands in markedly youthful contrast to the room, which is ancient by Seattle standards. Murals unspool a life-size Pushkin fairy tale across its four sepia-toned walls, a legacy of the 1930 Loveless Building’s early occupant, the Russian Samovar. Since then the room has held a string of other restaurants, including the short-lived dessert lounge Coco La Ti Da and the recently departed Olivar. Windows remain leaded and stained glass. The heavy wooden door is something one might better call a portal. 

Into this magical chamber materialized the Sakais, who came up from San Francisco to realize their dream of owning a restaurant in a like-mindedly culinary city. Eric, a Hawaii native and culinary school grad (CIA Hyde Park), came from the Four Seasons chain and cooked at San Francisco’s Rubicon and Acquerello; Zarina had worked front-of-house positions at Napa Valley’s French Laundry. Their vision for Marron was a come-as-you-are spot with elevated cuisine—the time-honored French techniques, Northwest ingredients, Asian leanings trifecta. This Eric would extemporize into dinners of two ($42), three ($49), five ($80), or eight to 15 courses, prices varying upward. 

Ambitious? With half the menu changing daily—astoundingly. Successful? Depends on how you define success.

From the first sip of our first amuse-bouche—a slender shot glass of smoky tomato puree, silken and vivid—it was manifestly clear that Sakai knows a thing or two about execution. Fish is cooked with the right restraint, as in a plate of wild striped bass, cloaked in tandoori spices and served with heirloom tomatoes and pickled spring onions in a sprightly emulsion of cilantro and gypsy peppers. A dish of Wagyu beef culottes, grilled to the perfect red and fanned across a light dashi, butter, black garlic emulsion, were lush and lovely alongside lightly steamed Nantes carrots, green beans, and bits of the briny kelp kombu.

Both of these preparations hewed to well-trod flavor paths, Indian and Japanese respectively, so it was refreshing when innovation accompanied the culinary chops on an appetizer of heirloom eggplants. Sakai sought to showcase the distinct flavors and textures of distinct eggplant varieties, so he cubed one and pureed another, adding baby leeks, charred cabbage leaves, and pumpkin seeds to the production, then united it all in a foie gras vinaigrette. The result was an original conspiracy of butter and smoke, casting an elevating spotlight on the delectable eggplant. Really exquisite.

This was chef Sakai at his finest, suggesting a culinary innovator worth the price tags. His palate is plainly smart: Bread comes from the peerless Columbia City Bakery in a generous assortment, French-press coffee from Oakland artisan roaster Blue Bottle. (What seems like the ultimate coals-to-Newcastle move, serving Bay Area coffee in Seattle, is actually pretty canny given Blue Bottle’s uncommonly round richness; its caramelly finish was like nothing I have tasted in this town, and stunning with the fruity dessert cakes.)

Image: Olivia Brent

The room's famed murals survived tentative plans to cover them.

But as dinners in this fairy tale room unfold, diners will begin to locate the limits of Sakai’s achievement. Conceptually, his reach too often exceeds his grasp. Beautiful, buttery shingles of line-caught tuna arrived dominoed over greens with dots of black garlic–truffle–white shoyu sauce—which overshadowed the sumptuous fish completely, even inelegantly. A pork shoulder braised a whopping 30 hours in milk—another point for the chef’s cooking chops; we could’ve eaten this tender meat with a spoon—came swimming in a sauce of vanilla and Meyer lemon, sharing the plate with lovely charred onion and cabbage and pureed broccoli. Vanilla and pork can be ethereal together, but this vanilla was unmitigated and incoherent with the brassicas. 

And on and on, across dishes which failed to rise above the sum of their well-executed parts: a chicken breast and chicken sausage plate with a disparate cast of supporting players (white bean puree, grilled radicchio, superfluous Castelvetrano olives), a late-summer salad of sweet grilled peaches and sweet heirloom tomatoes with too little balance from feta or vinegar or mint to carry the glorious fruit into a deeper, more interesting complexity. 

I was thinking about the disappointment of this on my second visit, having just bailed on an amuse-bouche whose rich avocado sorbet did not play well with its tomatillo base—when up trotted a fretful Zarina. “Oh! Did you not enjoy your sorbet?” she asked, brow knit, personally pained. A server’s investment in her guests’ experience is laudable, for sure—but by the end of two meals, Marron’s excessively avid staff and their obsequiousness had become exhausting. You don’t have to try so hard.

Marron’s dining room and kitchen are both pretty green, and it shows up in extra bold relief against an enterprise this ambitious. A daily changing menu is a particular hurdle for a chef this challenged by conception. The kitchen is small too; the reason Sakai developed his signature tic of grilling greens (they were on nearly all the dishes we tried), which conserves pan use. 

The good news is that the Sakais will almost certainly grow into greater mastery; both have a firm grasp on the basics and need, simply, more experience. The rougher news is they’ve chosen one heck of a neighborhood as a practice ground. With Jerry Traunfeld of Poppy just across Broadway and Nathan Lockwood of Altura right around the corner, this little patch of North Capitol Hill has become the epicenter of extraordinary dining in Seattle, period. 

Can Marron play in those leagues? Alas, not yet.

Image: Olivia Brent

At Joule: Spicy Rice Cake with Chorizo and Pickled Mustard Greens

Altura
9617 Broadway E
Capitol Hill
206-402-6749 alturarestaurant.com $$$

AlturaItalian                       

Small yet generous, modest yet gloriously self-­assured—Altura (which in Italian means both “height” and “profound depth”) spins its delicate web of opposites in a candlelit space on North Broadway. Chef and owner Nathan Lockwood hails from the private dining club the Ruins, where he developed an eye for rococo decadence—one formidable angel hangs from the rafters—and a gift for making diners feel like treasured guests. Service is notably stunning. All this praise and we haven’t even gotten to the food: Northwest seasonal ingredients gone Italian rustic—then pushed through an elegance sieve. So off a weekly changing menu, slices of Muscovy duck might come fanned over red cabbage with crumbled amaretti and caramel-roasted turnip; scallops may be dusted with fennel pollen alongside grilled radicchio and fennel. In a refreshing departure from convention one can assemble three-, four-, or five-course meals from all parts of the menu—three starters, for instance, or four mains (apportioned accordingly)—along with an a la carte option. But whatever you do, don’t skip dessert.  Closed Sun & Mon.

                    Art of the Table
1054 N. 39th St
Wallingford
206-282-0942
artofthetable.net $$$$

One of the best of the unrestaurants, this teensy six-table Wallingford room with the butter-yellow walls and the World Beat music also serves careful, delectable food: eight courses, Fridays and Saturdays (a la carte midweek), along a seasonal theme that chef Dustin Ronspies shyly narrates from the kitchen door. (This may include a sermonette, be warned, about the virtue of eating communally.) The charming Ronspies is a gifted chef, turning out dishes marked by subtle contrasts and textural interplay: smoky poussin with sweet spring vegetables and yam puree, perhaps, or thin-sliced red and golden beets over whipped chevre on flaky pastry. If it’s summer you may get nasturtium petals strewn across your salad and a “full moon” of honey panna cotta for dessert—fun dishes to speed the bonding with the other foodophiles at your table.
 

                    Boat Street Cafe
3131 Western Ave, Ste 301
Belltown
206-632-4602
boatstreetcafe.com $$

No place in town better captures the winsome charms of Provence than this unpretentious gem in the awkward nonneighborhood (read: lousy parking) where Western converges with Denny. Who cares where it is—it’s not on Boat Street anymore, either—because the space is utterly transporting, from the whitewashed rafters to the wood floors, and from the fresh wildflowers gushing out of watering cans to candles flickering in mismatched wine bottles. The food, presented with clockwork consistency and unbelievable value, is simplicity itself: perhaps vivid carrot soup spiked with star anise and foamy as mousse, lightly steamed salmon dressed in Meyer lemon tarragon cream and served with caramelized Brussels sprouts. Desserts—including the original Boat Street’s toe-curling amaretto bread pudding—continue the creamy aesthetic. Lunch happens in the adjoining Boat Street Kitchen. 

                    Cafe Juanita
9702 NE 120th Pl
Kirkland
425-823-1505
cafejuanita.com $$$$

It’s the classiest standby on the Eastside, where Holly Smith dances in the footsteps of the venerable Peter Dow. What he began in 1977 she refines and perfects, with high-end Northern Italian food rendered consistently and innovatively. Vivid dishes—like grilled squab with seared foie gras or mushroom-stuffed rabbit leg wrapped in pancetta and served with a chickpea crepe and a fennel and green salad—showcase fastidious attention to perfect ingredients and dazzling creative verve in the kitchen, a verve that stands in appealing contrast to the slightly timeworn room. Warning: Unless you’re familiar with Kirkland’s lakeside community of Juanita, you will not find this hidden spot without help. Closed Mon. 
 

            Canlis
2576 Aurora Ave N
Queen Anne
206-283-3313
canlis.com $$$$

Canlis has been perched out over the vertiginous eastern edge of Queen Anne Hill for over 50 years. That makes it about as classic as it gets in this town—right down to the reconstructed surf-and-turf menu, the midcentury split-level architecture (a marvel of luxurious restraint), the dinner-jacketed clientele, the noblest mixed drinks in town, the fathoms-deep wine list, the perfectionist standard of service (where the valets remember your car without aid of a claim ticket), and the whole breathtaking sweep of Lake Union twinkling just beyond the windows. Now in its third generation of Canlis family operators, what was once the most intimidating dining room in Seattle has a friendlier, almost folksy air—but the food remains, as ever, impeccable.

                  Cascina Spinasse
1531 14th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-251-7673
spinasse.com $$$

Here in Pike/Pine’s rustic Piedmontese farmstead (trestle tables, wood beams, wrought-iron chandeliers, lace curtains) diners feast on robust platters of slow-stewed venison with currants and buckwheat polenta, or heirloom chicory salad with chunks of marinated rabbit and extraordinary aged balsamic vinegar—all lovingly oiled and seasoned. The pasta achieves density and delicacy at once, in ravioli of rapini with pine nuts or hearty cavatelli lavished with chanterelles. A plain ragù featuring rich, rolled Piedmontese egg-yolk noodles called tajarin is a masterpiece, giving Seattleites their first taste of pasta the way it’s done in Italy. A neighboring bar, Artusi, lets us drink like Italians too, in a room adorned with chef Jason Stratton’s art and featuring a menu of sophisticated Italian noshes and aperitifs.

                    The Herbfarm
14590 NE 145th St
Woodinville
425-485-5300
theherbfarm.com $$$$

It’s the pull-out-all-the-stops, Big Night Out dining room in the state, maybe in three states—and, unlikely of unlikelies, it’s also pretty close to culinarily flawless. Its genesis is the stuff of legend; a couple of humble Fall City gardeners with extra chives began selling their bounty out of a roadside cart, then a small retail shop, where they began turning the herbs into festive lunches, then multicourse dinners. Before long, the charming country restaurant had earned a regional reputation for nine-course feasts built upon a theme—Copper River salmon perhaps in late spring, truffles midwinter. Chefs comb the wilds and the deeps for the freshest seasonal components, then ingeniously combine them into the sorts of preparations that make bold new sense of Northwest plenty: Dungeness crab and spot prawns with apple-fennel salad and a frothy sea urchin sauce; Douglas fir sorbet, a bracing Herbfarm classic; or, during root vegetable week, Wagyu beef short ribs with truffled beets, glazed turnips, and a parsnip praline. It is all served with astutely matched wines off a fathomless list by a staff of courteous pros, and preceded by a lively tutorial from the chef on the herbs and ingredients on offer that evening. There’s a lot that’s unique about the Herbfarm, including its florid baroque decor (whatever isn’t gilded is covered in chintz), its four-hour dinners, its Chilean guitarist, and its lavish formality (Five forks! Five wineglasses!). But for our money, and it’s a lot of money, the gently instructional tone is the best part of the experience, revealing that the heart of this world-class destination remains its earnest and down-to-earth delight in the garden. Reservations essential. Dinner only Thu-Sun.

                    The Harvest Vine
2701 E Madison St
Madison Valley
206-320-9771
harvestvine.com $$$

The best tapas in Seattle come from behind the copper counter where Basque chefs assemble platitos of glistening octopus or veal tongue or smoked sturgeon, wedges of tortilla, crab-stuffed piquillo peppers, venison in pepper sauce, sumptuous garlic prawns, grilled sardines—and on and, hiccup, on. Good luck snagging a seat at that bar. With a party of eight or more, however, you can reserve the newer downstairs txoko, or “little corner,” with its Old World open-beam construction and stone walls. A big communal table, plentifully lubricated, is the best way to enjoy tapas anyway. Weekend brunches are the best-kept secret in town, for omelets and pan tostadas and the buttery, vanilla-sugared pastries called caracolillos.

                  Joule
3506 Stone Way N
Fremont
206-632-5685
joulerestaurant.com $$$

When it opened in 2007, Joule was like nothing Seattle had ever tasted. Not only were Korean thrills like kimchi and fermented tofu still breaking news outside the exotic mom-and-pops of Shoreline and Federal Way, we’d never before seen them fused with classic Western cuisine. When it moved in 2012, it reemerged in sleek Fremont quarters as a Korean-fusion steak house, buzzing with loud music and an open kitchen and close quarters (and close tables) and muscular cocktails and a city full of young devotees of Joule’s aptly named sister Revel. Expect the humblest cuts of beef—pot roast, shoulder—cooked to perfectionist specs and draped in unexpected fire from chili sauces and fermented tofu; expect sides like sliced pennies of crispy-chewy rice cake with greens and chorizo, or Chinese broccoli with walnut pesto, or some other innovation you cannot believe tastes this extraordinary.

                  Sitka and Spruce
1531 Melrose Ave E
Capitol Hill
206-324-0662
sitkaandspruce.com $$$

Seattle’s locavore dining scene got prettier the moment intense young practitioner Matt Dillon relocated Sitka from the darkest cranny in Eastlake to perhaps its most radiant height. From tables, counter seats, and a communal board in the sunlight-drenched corner of Melrose Market, diners can survey Seattle’s own Les Halles through vintage panes—there’s the butcher, there’s the blossom shop—or Dillon and crew in the open kitchen, composing the simple, hearty seasonal plates he’s known for. Look for produce adoration, enormous flavors, compulsive seasonality, and more than a few Middle Eastern tweaks—on plates that at lunchtime feel appealingly noshy, like sweet whole carrots over chickpea puree with harissa and fried mint, and at dinnertime may take your breath away.

Image: Sara Marie D'Eugenio

In contrast to the novelties now trending in Seattle dining stands the lovely Pomerol, the latest from prolific continental classicist Vuong Loc. From his erstwhile Portage on Queen Anne he’s brought an emphasis on archetypal French cuisine; from his dearly departed June in Madrona a reverence for meats—achieved at Pomerol on a wood-fired grill. The results are highly composed plates of unapologetically traditional fare—glistening short ribs over cauliflower puree with shallot confit, slices of lamb leg on an anise-fennel-carrot braise, moist pan-roasted chicken in a lush sherry sauce—executed with a seasoned hand and near-perfect consistency. (And when it isn’t, as in a tragically overcooked starter of chili-rubbed octopus—it’s graciously addressed on the bill.)

Service on our visit was a little green and stilted, but all in all, the mood is high and the vibe informal in this sleek and modern and crisp-edged room, which looks like Fremont but cooks like France. Desserts are busy and delectable; get ready for the breezy back deck, which will be most pleasant in, oh…about six months.

Pomerol 
127 N 36th St, Fremont 
206-632-0135; pomerolrestaurant.com $$$ 

This review appeared in the November 2014 issue of Seattle Met magazine.

Image: Olivia Brent

I know. We were stunned too. 

This year’s best and most emblematic newcomers are not the white-tablecloth destination dining rooms one typically finds on a Best Restaurants list. The scene is funny like that right now. I’ve encountered the authentic culinary integrity and lively sense of place in gastropubs and bottle shops and lunch delis whose chefs trained their talents—and what talents!—on lowbrow fare like BBQ and pizza and fish and chips. 

Dumbing themselves down? On the contrary: These chefs are so skilled, so visionary, they have the stuff to take the most down-to-earth food and raise it up. Good for us, the lucky recipients of blue-ribbon food in street guises, sometimes even street prices. But good also for the state of food culture itself, which so often evolves at street level. Each of these eateries tells its part of a larger story, revealing emerging trends in Seattle dining. 

Trove

Image: Olivia Brent

So supremely suited is Trove to its high-end-indie Pike/Pine address, the mod compound with the fire engine red ceiling had mad success written all over it from day one. Rachel Yang and Seif Chirchi (Joule, Revel) have made a career of killer restaurant ideas, all of which involve highly intelligent fusions of Korean food. Here in Trove’s four operations in one—cocktail lounge, fast food noodle bar, Korean barbecue dining room, parfait truck—the element being fused is fun. Twelve-buck noodle dishes from the counter up front might include Asian “spaghetti” with swiss chard and meatballs; cocktails run to high-octane amusements like the Seoul Mule, infused with the Korean traditional fruity herbal blend omija; desserts from the clever sawed-off ice cream truck facade are a selection of classic ice cream parfaits, some tweaked with Asian elements like miso caramel. (And don’t miss the visual puns all over the place, from the Godzilla–eats–Space Needle wallpaper to the whimsical scene inside the truck’s gas cap—go ahead: kneel down, peek in.) But the main event is Korean barbecue, in the appealingly lively dining room where tables have grills for DIY cooking of cuts like Wagyu chuck or pork belly with sesame salt. You take your meat off the heat, cut it with scissors, then dress it with the lettuce leaves and fresh herbs and kimchi and other Korean embellishments known as banchan and ssam—marveling as the flavors and textures ricochet around your palate, enhanced with every collision.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Chuck's Hop Shop

Image: Olivia Brent

The groundbreaking craft bottle shop that launched its second outpost in the Central District this year (the first is in Greenwood) simply nails the state of Seattle connoisseurship this instant. You’ve got your exhaustive selection of some of the greatest beers in the world, available by the bottle or the growler—at least 50-odd of those on tap for sipping while shopping. Always a food truck out in the lot—Chuck’s pulls the best ones, from Napkin Friends to Snout and Co. to Where Ya At Matt—to supply sufficient alimentary excuse to make an evening of it at one of the shared indoor or individual patio tables. Full Tilt Ice Cream, by the cone or by the pint, just because it rocks. Best, across the operation, a good-natured anarchy so freewheeling—Bring your kids! Bring the dog! Hog a table for a game of Monopoly!—it creates the goodwill that builds loyalty. Honestly, watching the diverse crew of neighbors converge on this novel community center of a Friday afternoon is like watching a magnet in full pull. Could it be something is getting fed here besides hunger and thirst?
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Restaurant Roux

The transition from truck to bricks and mortar is never a gimme—but the talented Matthew Lewis (Where Ya At Matt?) made it look easy when he opened Restaurant Roux last year in the husk of Fremont’s gritty old Buckaroo Tavern. First he whipped up a frenzy of demand, playing up Roux’s connection to the popular truck. Then he individualized the brands, shrewdly limiting most of his ridiculously magnificent po’boy sandwiches to the truck alone. Finally he tightened consistency of the restaurant’s Creole brunches and dinners, thereby creating that singular achievement—a neighborhood restaurant with citywide appeal. The sweetly rustic joint is just slammed, all the time, from its soaring rafters to its mottled concrete floors, from its charming windowpane walls to its merry, skillful bar. The kitchen takes plenty of creative leave with specials but it’s the old favorites that deliver best andexplain the crowd: the honey-jalapeño hush puppies, the shrimp and grits, a beautifully mellowed jambalaya, and what have to be the finest beignets in the West.

Image: Olivia Brent

Chippy's

Image: Olivia Brent

It’s just angelically, impossibly good: two plump chunks of true cod, flaky and mild and clean, cloaked in a just-shy-of-sweet batter and gilded in the fryer to a spectacular crunch. Dipped in spicy mayo or housemade remoulade—heck, dipped in battery acid—they are the best fish you’ve had in forever…which is amazing since they’re mere fish-and-chips, which is itself amazing since they’re the anchor of an Ethan Stowell restaurant, he of the restaurant empire and elite reputation. Of course none of this is actually amazing, since we’ve grown used to highbrow chefs training their brilliant gazes on lowbrow foods—but Stowell’s team lavishes these plebeian preparations with a connoisseur’s finesse. Like an overstuffed and supremely lush Dungeness and king crab roll with lemon aioli and tomato and avocado in shattering French bread. Or clam chowder in a creamy broth so packed with vivid flavor from new potatoes and heady aromatics and fresh clams and good bacon, it transcends every expectation a person might reasonably bring to a bowl of soup. Seafood restaurants are making a comeback, and this little brick Ballard Avenue bar with the killer cocktails holds up the casual end ably. 
 

Image: Olivia Brent

The London Plane

If Pioneer Square were someone’s home, the London Plane would be the great room off the kitchen—the one with the soaring ceilings, the unruly garden flowers bursting from a pot by the sink, an anytime slice of cardamom cake with cream-swirled coffee. Matt Dillon composed his breathtaking two-level breakfast, lunch, brunch, bakery, florist, deli, and retail stop as a paean to the delights of day dining, in time adding prix-fixe dinners Wednesdays through Saturdays. But more than that, the London Plane is Dillon’s homage to everyday dining: close-to-the-earth foods, from a plate of fluffy whole-milk yogurt with roasted beets and crisped emmer to a salad of trofie pasta with lentils and ragged hunks of chicken and stinging nettles and feta. All crafted without undue innovation along the fault lines of a chef’s fixations: springy slow-fermented breads with spreads, vinegar as all-purpose flavor enhancer, cultured dairy, micro-seasonal everything. And all enjoyed however you want it: from a takeout container or on a plate, at the bar or around a table, gazing through glass upon the leafy trees and cobbled pavers of an urban landscape a person might even call a neighborhood.

Image: Olivia Brent

Pizzeria Gabbiano

Image: Olivia Brent

The flights of sly imagination Mike Easton brings to nanoseasonal daily pastas at Il Corvo he now applies to extraordinary pizzas, served up weekday lunchtime in this windowy brick-lined Pioneer Square room with bar seats, a fir table long as a red carpet, and a kitchen so open you can watch the cooks snapping beans and shucking corn. Yes, corn—one of the many why-not pizza toppings that establish Easton’s signature pizza style: heaping vegetables and herbs and cheeses and cured meats in undreamt-of combos, four or five a day, like squash with pancetta and nutmeggy bechamel, or—they can’t make enough of this one—mozzarella and mortadella with oily drizzles of pistachio pesto. As for crusts, they’re thick and substantial in the Roman styleal taglio—show with your fingers how big a cut you want, then pay by the kilo—but not at the expense of delicacy. A simple salad, perhaps chickpeas and vegetables in an herby vinaigrette, rounds out lunch so beautifully you’ll leave wondering if a pizza meal has ever left you so radiantly nourished.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Cochon

Image: Olivia Brent

For a restaurateur who embraces badassitude as if it were a cuisine, Derek Ronspies inhabits a surprisingly sweet and twinkling wood-hewn space on the second floor of the Center of the Universe. He launched Le Petit Cochon last year with a concentration on highbrow offal preparations, then changed the menu and shortened the name for a less Frenchified vibe and a reduced emphasis on the nasty bits. (Don’t worry—you’ll probably still find bone marrow in your burger or foie gras in your ice cream.) But make no mistake—the badass remains. “We are not here for the grim, pretentious diner who is seeking perfection,” the new menu disclaims, praising rowdiness and great music. (And affirming Cochon at the forefront of the movement to bring diners into line with the desires of the restaurant, not the time-honored opposite.) Which is to say: If the loud music isn’t to your liking, tough—it is to the kitchen’s. So to find servers this accommodating and sweet, serving food this creatively intelligent (a fish-and-chips dish featuring gilded Neah Bay black cod over a crispy Yukon Gold latke with horseradish yogurt) and consistently executed (a double-thick “Phat Ass” pork chop that’s nevertheless impossibly moist)—feels like a crowd-pleasing surprise. This Ronspies dude can cook.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Jack’s BBQ

To successfully smoke brisket a person needs to be about 38 kinds of geek: one who knows his mesquite from his post oak, maybe one with a techie joint like Microsoft on his resume—best, one with an actual Texas pedigree. Check, check, and check. Jack Timmons, whose charming new roadhouse in Greater Georgetown enshrines a passion for brisket so consuming it led him to study it at Texas A&M, then order himself a custom-built offset smoker, then launch a cult success of a popup; this lovely brick-and-mortar spot represents his 2.0. Inside it looks like Austin—all strung with lights, the bar has a stage, and there’s a deli line at lunchtime—but you’ll just be staring at the meat: mounds of pulled pork, hot links, half chickens, stunning lightly glazed St. Louis ribs, and slices of the world’s most succulent brisket, suffused with the smoke that makes that ring inside the bark so pink. Sides also trend toward terrific—especially the mac and cheese and the refreshing black-eyed-pea salad, Texas Caviar. Sure it’s Texan—but the sheer perfection of its Texasness is what makes Jack’s so Seattle. 
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Damn the Weather

Image: Olivia Brent

Whether you see it as a restaurant-food-in-a-bar thing or a bar-masquerading-as-a-restaurant thing—you cannot possibly have lived in Seattle the last half decade and missed bar food’s startling ascent from Booze Ballast to Whole Point. Exhibit A of course being the dim, brick-lined Damn the Weather, the Pioneer Square conspiracy of ace barman Bryn Lumsden (Rob Roy, Vessel) and chef’s chef Eli Dahlin (the Walrus and the Carpenter) to unite brainy cocktails with exquisitely wrought bites under one Pioneer Square roof. Never mind that a few other folks had the same idea this year: Damn the Weather is in a culinary category all its own, offering sly takes on playful small plates like grilled peaches with celery leaf and fennel and a smear of blue cheese puree, or a duck hot dog with salsa verde, or a Caesar salad stunningly recast in sandwich form.  Libations are careful too—lots of winter-friendly rum drinks (with a cast of thousands loudly enjoying them)—but so seriously is the spotlight trained on the food, a glance into the kitchen may reveal four chefs huddled over your dish, arranging it just so. 
 

Brimmer & Heeltap

Image: Olivia Brent

If restaurants had roots, the ones fixing this welcoming gastropub to its little corner of east Ballard would be deeper than an establishment less than a year old has any right to expect. Truth is—despite that trendy ampersand in its name, Brimmer & Heeltap has an old soul. The kind that can only come from uncommonly authentic hospitality in the front of the house (thank you, friendly owner Jen Doak) and simply sensational food out of the back—in this case, that Holy Grail of culinary improbability, sure-handed fusion. With lessons brought from Revel and Joule, chef Mike Whisenhunt innovates short menus grafting Korean influences onto familiar Western preparations so that sumptuously smoky lamb gets sauteed with soy-pickled vegetables in a ginger-chili glaze; a mizuna salad gets piqued with pickled cherries and a flurry of bonito flakes. Combos like these taste as buoyant and inevitable as if they’d been showing up together for centuries, and are particularly sublime against the Pinterest-worthy tableaus of the charming neofarmhouse. Of special note is the bar: a bona fide Third Place drawing neighbors and industry folk for its inventive cocktails and late-night happy hour.

Image: Olivia Brent

Image: Olivia Brent

Ten bucks for banh mi, that Vietnamese baguette sandwich you can grab at delis all over town for under $4? Welcome to Alicia Fusion Bistro at Leschi’s lakeside—the polished, candlelit antidive whose banh mi is a warm, crusty baguette crammed with a moist, pulled version of roast Carlton Farms pork, along with crackling pickled veggies and silky garlic aioli. It’s notably fresh and terrific—as are the brisket pho, grilled lemongrass chicken vermicelli bowls, and other Vietnamese classics of the sort you might find at the Kuang family’s fanatically beloved original restaurants, the Green Leafs in the ID and Belltown. But the real glories of Alicia are its mad forays into successful Vietnamese-Continental fusion: dishes like gilded scallops over sweet corn and a savory, cilantro-flecked onion sauce; or a petite burger crafted of Mishima Ranch beef and pickled vegetables and brisk lime aioli; or Willapa Bay clams in a ragù lit with the unlikely triumvirate of tomato sauce, pork, and lemongrass. Yes, these small-plate presentations add up to more than you’re used to paying at the Green Leafs of the world. But Alicia is wholly more ambitious, from its kumquat cocktails all the way through to its dessert malasadas, Portuguese fried dough balls with coconut and chocolate dipping sauces.

This article appeared in the December 2014 issue of Seattle Met magazine.

Image: Olivia Brent

There may be no bigger contrarian in Seattle restaurants than Josh Henderson.

“Nope, no burger on our menu,” our waiter announced with pride. There we were in Henderson’s new sports bar: spitting distance from the CLink, all done up like a shiny locker room, aglow with the radiance of 20 TVs—one of which was, at that very minute, broadcasting great moments in lady wrestling. And here on the menu were esoterics like quinoa salad and braised lamb neck. Grilled squid, shaved ham, five flippin’ veg plates.

Noburger. 

“There are at least eight other places around here you can go for a burger,” she explained. “Why would we want to be like everyone else?” 

Henderson is savvy; in less than two months he answered demand with a bacon-cheddar burger. Still, Why would we want to be like everybody else? could be stitched onto the waitstaff’s baseball jerseys. Henderson confounds expectations, like when he turned kale into comfort food at his Skillet empire (now in other hands) or launched Hollywood Tavern way out in Woodinville, or blew up the waterside fish house cliche by building Westward out of Greek food and ironic decor.

But Quality Athletics is his unlikeliest yet: A bona fide postmodern sports bar. The crisp windowy space is clean and contemporary with bright green banquettes and long team tables with old school chairs; a shelf of gleaming trophies at the entry and a wall of lockers lining one side of the bar (which can be sealed off into a party room by a clever vertical-slider Ping-Pong table). Even so, it wasn’t until I spied the Astroturf carpet that I got the wink. This isn’t a sports bar; it’s a commentary on a sports bar.

Which, of course, a glance at the menu sealed. This is the sort of kitchen that makes its own ginger beer, for goodness’ sake. I ordered a minimalist green bean salad—smoked almonds, rocks of sea salt, curls of pecorino—whose beans were grown in the rooftop garden upstairs. And crisp-on-the-outside, silken-on-the-inside potato croquettes accoutered with house-made bacon, lacy crisps of cheddar cheese, and—bien sûr—green onion creme fraiche. 

You get the idea: Not your daddy’s sports bar. Problem is—it might not be yours either. Yes, the place delivers the highest-quality food you’re likely to eat while watching ladies wrestle. But in essential ways, Quality Athletics is more about its kitchen than its diners. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Just Your Typical Sports Bar Fare Smoked salmon collar “wings” come with pickled shallots and peppers and a coriander-honey glaze. Vanilla funnel cake is topped with macerated peaches, whipped sour lemon cream, and Aleppo-powdered sugar.

Take eatability—a word that doesn’t exist in everyday conversation for a concept that should. In a rare nod to the sports bar genre, Quality Athletics offers three takes on wings: charred sweet chili chicken wings, jerk-spiced duck wings, and coriander honey–glazed smoked salmon wings—the last a cheeky preparation of salmon collar bits with the fins attached. Colorfully spangled with shallots and peppers and delectable in their briny-sweet way, they also made somewhat ridiculous eating—requiring clamping one’s jaw upon each sticky, angular joint and scraping back whatever isn’t cartilage or bone. 

Athletic indeed. An open-faced sandwich—on my visit topped with unctuous braised lamb with a novel Philly cheesesteak treatment of provolone cheese whiz, pickled serrano and Fresno chilies, pickled shallots, and mint—was richly flavorful (loved the lamb with fresh mint), but delivered amidst a puddle of juices in a cast-iron skillet. Soggy bread, fork required, drip drip. 

Fish tacos arrive as a platter of whole trout to share among three or four diners; it’s boned (and in our case, partially gutted) at table. The diner wraps morsels of the fish in tortillalike roti, then dresses them with pico de gallo and pickled peppers. Swell in theory—but the combination of cooling fish, jaw-challenging roti, insufficient intrigue from the accompaniments, and an imperfect boning job added up to a dish that was not worth the labor required. (And painful.)

Henderson’s revision of the sports bar depends on these sorts of shared platters, of which the menu offers four or five a night. To him, it’s not the burger that makes a place a sports bar—it’s the gathering, in front of the game or around the patio fire pits, to share. In that sense Quality Athletics’ culinary style plays ideally to his vision, because flavors here are so bold, even the nonshareables are more likely to be passed than completed. A coconut curry with butternut squash and charred fennel and terrific housemade pappardelle, was intense and one-note for one diner—but made a fine side dish for all of us. 

Don’t mistake this for comfort food: The unmitigated punches of flavor at Quality Athletics frustrate a comfort jones more than satisfy it. No, this is the food a kitchen makes when it’s laboring on every cylinder to make a statement. A charred pork shoulder salad featured two generous hunks of the meat soused in sweet Korean barbecue sauce—along with apple slices, ruffles of kale, knobs of cauliflower, and a scattering of chewy wild rice. The apples and the saucy meat intertwined sumptuously; the rest shared a plate but not a purpose. Desserts were similarly eager to impress, including an ice cream sundae whose players—peanut butter ice cream, peanuts, salted caramel, chili-spiced Cracker Jacks, flakes of nori—added up to something more sassy than smart. 

Chili and seaweed on peanut butter ice cream? Like I said, contrarian. My favorite story about Quality Athletics is one that another friendly waiter (the servers here are sweethearts) shared when she set before us the very best dish we sampled: a piquant tostada with braised lamb, black bean puree, avocado cream, and cotija cheese—tasty, coherent, conceived with a temperate hand on the originality meter. “This went on the menu as a substitute for the nachos we opened with,” she told us. 

And why were the nachos replaced? “Oh, they were too popular!” she said. “Everyone was ordering them!”

This article appeared in the December 2014 issue of Seattle Met magazine.

Image: Olivia Brent

On a weekend morning you’ll invariably find a baby crying in this overcrowded Ballard brunch shack, possibly a clutch of feral toddlers and the coffee-swilling adults who are avoiding them, several pairs of finger-twining lovers—all tucking into biscuits that pretty much define the Platonic ideal of biscuitude. This is Morsel and Bean, the newer outpost of Morsel on the Ave, which inherited its biscuit mandate (if not its recipe) from the much-mourned Nook—and whose product is every bit as exceptional. Think craggy-crunchy on the outside, angelically fluffy and just-over-the-border of sweet within. And—as luck would have it—enormous, whether as a buttermilk or a daily special biscuit, perhaps carrot cardamom, sliced and warmed with just a wash of honey butter; or as an overstuffed, melting colossus of bacon, scrambled egg, cheese, and chili-piqued tomato jam. Lovers of that biscuit sandwich, the Fast Break, are locked in fierce rivalry with lovers of the Spanish Fly (Mama Lil’s pepper aioli, prosciutto, arugula), but everyone agrees that the coffee is terrific and the servers are sweet, both of which ease the sting of the inevitable wait. There’s even a drive-through window, but then you’ll miss the feral toddlers.

Big Chickie Pollo a la Brasa 

Concept Peruvian charcoal-roasted rotisserie chicken served in quarters, halves, or wholes, with choice of sides.

Named for Mom (nickname: Chickie) of Matt Stubbs, who launched the place with his wife, Sara, as homage to the Peruvian rotisseries all over his greater DC hometown.

The Chicken Hormone- and antibiotic-free, and utterly delectable: beautifully marinated, notes of citrus, moist clear through. 

Sauce Choices Yellow mayo sauce, green jalapeño-lime sauce, pickled onion salsa. 

Carb load Choose among steak fries, black beans, yellow rice, cheesy potatoes, corn salad, lime-glazed sweet potatoes, corn muffins, and plantain chips.

Best Side Soft cubes of savory-tart sweet potatoes, brisk with lime. Or maybe the wicked cheesy potatoes.

Yep, there’s kale salad A good crunchy slaw with carrots, cabbage, edamame, and golden raisins in a lemony dressing.

Bevs A few wines and local beers

Service Careful and sweet

Cluck for Your Buck $8 for a light eater (quarter chicken with two small sides); $16 for a half chicken with two large sides

Atmospheric bummer Technically all the seating is outdoors. Sheer plastic sheets in place of walls leave this tidy new structure on Rainier pretty exposed in winter, heaters notwithstanding. 

Dessert Full Tilt Ice Cream; killer chili-spiced brownies.

Overall verdict Hillman City’s wildest dream come true.

Nate's Wings and Waffles
 

Concept Fried chicken, by the half pound or strips, with waffles—a Southern classic. (What? No “Nate’s Nuggets”?) 

Named for Nate Robinson, local boy–gone–Denver Nuggets star, who owns the place with Darren McGill (Happy Grillmore) and another partner

The Chicken  Order either naked or breaded wings, the latter featuring crisp crust—appealingly mild—and moist, juicy meat. All the meat is hormone  and antibiotic free. 

Sauce Choices Chipotle BBQ, classic buffalo, coconut jalapeño lime, lemon pepper, garlic ginger, teriyaki

Carb load Sides include salt and pepper fries, sweet potato fries, onion rings, supercreamy (but bland) mac and cheese, potato rolls, and of course, waffles—savory, bacon, or plain.

Best Side The “Not So Plain” waffle—$4 of crunchy and tasty, with honey rosemary butter and maple syrup

Yep, there’s kale salad With cabbage and carrots in a sweet dressing—a deal for $3

Bevs Soft for now; liquor license pending

Service Cheerful and quick

Cluck for Your Buck Split a pound of wings with one sauce, two waffles, and one side for around $10 per person. 

Atmospheric bummer The former Lake Route Cafe, still tiny and a little doleful, is nobody’s dream destination—hoops posters notwithstanding.

Dessert Are you kidding? You just ate waffles. 

Overall verdictI’ve had fluffier waffles, but never in such a happy neighborhood hangout.

Image: Olivia Brent

Tom Douglas's Cuoco.

Agrodolce
709 N 35th Street
Fremont
206-547-9707 
agrodolcerestaurant.net $$$

AGRODOLCE Italian                       

Here is James Beard award–winning chef Maria Hines’s third property—this one Sicilian, and every inch as nobly organic as her first two (Tilth, Golden Beetle). In a gracious and comfortable space warmed by the leafy limbs of a ficus tree, patrons savor the sunny citruses and olives and capers and tomatoes of Sicily—perhaps in a heaping herby salad, or a briny tangle of housemade tagliarini pasta with clams and pine nuts, or an impossibly moist half chicken topped with a caponata of Brussels sprouts and golden raisins (a dish that embodies the “sour and sweet” of Agrodolce’s name). Some dishes suffer from insufficient innovation or, at brunch especially, size—limitations of an organic mandate, perhaps, that organic food appreciators will be all too happy to overlook. 

                    Altura
617 Broadway E
Capitol Hill
206-402-6749
alturarestaurant.com $$$

Small yet generous, modest yet gloriously self--assured—Altura (which in Italian means both “height” and “profound depth”) spins its delicate web of opposites in a candlelit space on North Broadway. Chef and owner Nathan Lockwood hails from the private dining club the Ruins, where he developed an eye for rococo decadence—one formidable angel hangs from the rafters—and a gift for making diners feel like treasured guests. Service is notably stunning. All this praise and we haven’t even gotten to the food: Northwest seasonal ingredients gone Italian rustic—then pushed through an elegance sieve. So off a weekly changing menu, slices of Muscovy duck might come fanned over red cabbage with crumbled amaretti and caramel-roasted turnip; scallops may be dusted with fennel pollen alongside grilled radicchio and fennel. In a refreshing departure from convention one can assemble three-, four-, or five-course meals from all parts of the menu—three starters, for instance, or four mains (apportioned accordingly)—along with an a la carte option. But whatever you do, don’t skip dessert.

       Anchovies and Olives
1550 15th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-838-8080
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

Anchovies and olives Italian

Everyone looks deadly chic against the windows and cement of this minimalist corner room in Pike/Pine, but the most seafoody of Ethan Stowell’s empire (which also includes Tavolàta, How to Cook a Wolf, Staple and Fancy, and Rione XIII) is surprisingly down-to-earth and welcoming. It’s all about the food, after all: a broad crudo menu featuring the freshest local shellfish (often swimming-that-morning oysters) and rarely seen seafood flown in from exotic offshore locales, highlighted with Italian embellishments. When the kitchen’s on, it’s off the charts, presenting wonders like Arctic char over fregola pasta with nettles, currants, and speck; and trafficking in the same acerbic, briny, and tangy flavor families that dominate dinner at his other joints. (If you don’t like anchovies or olives, in other words…this may not be the place for you.) 

                    Andaluca
407 Olive Way
Downtown
206-382-6999
andaluca.com $$$

andaluca Mediterranean

The snug russet room off the lobby of the Mayflower Park Hotel presents downtown’s most intimate face for a business lunch, most convenient for a shopping stop, and one of its most alluring for an amber-lit dinner. The food can be majestic—from paella to one of the city’s best meat dishes: Cabrales-crusted tenderloin with grilled pears—prepared so lushly it can at times overreach into overrich. Though all this makes it feel like a special-occasion destination, Andaluca remains a hotel restaurant, obliged to do the near--daily breakfast-lunch-dinner duty that can at times tax service and dull a kitchen’s consistency. Considering complimentary valet parking at this central downtown address…all is forgiven. 

                    Artusi
1535 14th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-251-7673
artusibar.com $$

Artusi Italian

A mod shot of Italy in the heart of Pike/Pine, Artusi is Cascina Spinasse’s sister aperitivo bar; stocked to the nines with grappas and amari and the stuzzichini (“little nibbles”) to offset them. Spinasse chef Jason Stratton is the artist at the helm (that’s his art on the walls too, believe it or not), presenting the occasional echo of next door—do not pass up the salsa tonnata, or tuna mayonnaise, in either house—but mostly staking out territory that’s more minimalist and contemporary than Spinasse’s. If it’s on the menu, go for the tripe with bone marrow and black truffles, in which the tender braised tripe plays a pastalike role in a superrich sauce.

       Assaggio
2010 Fourth Ave
Belltown
206-441-1399
assaggioseattle.com $$$

ASSAGGIO Italian

Boldly overseen by larger-than-life proprietor Mauro Golmarvi—benevolently regarded by the cherubim and seraphim painted all over the wall and ceiling murals—Assaggio may at first seem a throwback to the more cliched conventions of Italian restaurant dining. Not so fast. There’s a reason this room, graciously high ceilinged and partitioned to resemble a European streetscape, sustains the devotion of midtown business-lunchers and evening pasta twirlers alike. (Hint: It comes out of the kitchen.) Execution is steady and impressive on classic pastas—linguine vongole, a beautifully briny capellini donato, fettucine swathed in a meaty Bolognese—and wickedly rich specials. But the Northern Italian place is quite capable of a lighter touch, as in a crisply refreshing fennel-and-green-apple salad with pecorino Romano and truffle oil. Classic Italian desserts are sumptuous.

Bar Cotto Salumeria and Bar
1546 15th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-838-8081
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$

BAR cotto Italian

Empire builder Ethan Stowell built this nosh bar next to his Anchovies and Olives as an overhead diffuser—but the sleek, modern Italian room with its raw bulbs and stainless tables adds up to a fine destination by itself. One can pretty affordably assemble a giddy repast from some 10 varieties of salumi, several vegetable nibbles, a half dozen bruschetta, and a dozen or so pizzas. Toppings are beautiful on the pizzas—particularly housemade guanciale, mozzarella, and a sweet dusting of fennel pollen—but the crackly-pillowy-blistery crusts are too oily. Instead, try some salumi with torta fritta (the hot, savory beignets Northern Italians melt their salumi around) along with a perky toss of, say, marinated beets with pistachios and golden raisins, and a nice, stiff (exquisite) cocktail. 

                    Bar del Corso
3057 Beacon Ave S
Beacon Hill
206-395-2069
bardelcorso.com$$

Lucky Beacon Hill, that its pizzeria so embodies the soul of the neighborhood restaurant. The place bubbles, from the sheer crush of devotees inside its tidy, clean-lined quarters to its wood-fired pizza crusts—crispy and flavorful like Neapolitan with a little more tooth to the chew. These pies are the province of master pizzaiolo Jerry Corso, who delivers a short list of European antipasti, seasonal salads, and terrific Italian desserts—along with cocktails, wines, and beers—to round out the main event. If it’s on offer, don’t miss the sassy anchovy-lit puttanesca, or whatever garden special he’s got going.

Image: Olivia Brent

Vongole pizza at Bar del Corso.

                    Barolo Ristorante
1940 Westlake Ave
Downtown
206-770-9000
baroloseattle.com $$$

BAROLO RISTORANTE Italian

Is it all the beautiful male waiters in their Italian trousers? The Murano glass chandeliers and candle-waxy romance and pulsing music? Whatever it is, Barolo (from the family who brought us the U District’s Mamma Melina) has overcome an initial lukewarm critical appraisal to achieve beloved status with the People. They crowd the long windowy room for $6 ahi carpaccio and $7 hanger steak at one of downtown’s most overcrowded happy hours, and love it up for business lunches and evening dates behind seductive sheers. The Italian food is satisfying, particularly the admirable tomato-oiled bean soups and meat entrees. And if pastas are at times too lavishly oiled, it’s all of a piece with the overall sexiness of the room. 

                    Branzino
2429 Second Ave
Belltown
206-728-5181
branzinoseattle.com $$$

Branzino Italian

One of the last serious dinner houses in Belltown is this square room with high-backed booths and cozy spaces, swathed in autumnal hues—a bona fide warm restaurant in a city smitten with the stark and minimal. Here the friendly welcome, rustic fare, and affordable price tags (most entrees under $20) all lack pretension. The chef’s hand stays firmly on the Italian tiller, turning out housemade pappardelle Bolognese, panzanella starring handmade mozzarella, branzino with frisee salad, and perfect pizza crust.

                    Cafe Juanita
9702 NE 120th Pl
Kirkland
425-823-1505
cafejuanita.com $$$$

Cafe juanita Italian

It’s the classiest standby on the Eastside, where Holly Smith dances in the footsteps of the venerable Peter Dow. What he began in 1977 she refines and perfects, with high-end Northern Italian food rendered consistently and innovatively. Vivid dishes—like grilled squab with seared foie gras or mushroom--stuffed rabbit leg wrapped in pancetta and served with a chickpea crepe and fennel and green salad—showcase fastidious attention to perfect ingredients and dazzling creative verve in the kitchen, a verve that stands in appealing contrast to the slightly time-worn room. Warning: Unless you’re familiar with Kirkland’s lakeside community of Juanita, you will not find this hidden spot without help.

                    Cafe Lago
2305 24th Ave E
Montlake
206-329-8005
cafelago.com $$

cafe lago Italian

This exemplary streetside Italian cafe is run with a perfectionist’s standard, from handcrafted pasta to fabled gnocchi, featherweight lasagna, and crackle-crusted wood-fired pizzas. The result is a destination restaurant masquerading as a neighborhood joint, with a neighborhood joint’s clattering aesthetic. (And miserable parking.) So take the bus already; just get there for a plate of the best butternut squash and sage ravioli you’ll ever taste. Cocktails too.

                    Cantinetta
3650 Wallingford Ave N
Wallingford
206-632-1000
cantinettaseattle.com $$

cantinEtta Italian

A couple of rustic Italian ristorantes delight the crowds of Wallingford and West Bellevue with fresh, constantly rotating antipasti, contorni, housemade pastas, and mains—some rarely seen, like tortellini in brodo, and a stunning casoncelli with pancetta and amaretto crumbles—and some classic crowd-pleasers. Earthy studies in farmhouse minimalism with plank tables and wrought-iron chandeliers, the places are constantly slammed, owing about equally to the no-reservations-for-parties-of-fewer-than-six rule, the affable neighborhood ambience, the reasonable price tags, and the hard liquor. 

                    Cascina Spinasse
1531 14th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-251-7673
spinasse.com $$$

cascina spinasse Italian

Here in Pike/Pine’s rustic Piedmontese farmstead (trestle tables, wood beams, wrought-iron chandeliers, lace curtains), diners feast on robust platters of slow-stewed venison with currants and buckwheat polenta or heirloom chicory salad with chunks of marinated rabbit and extraordinary aged balsamic vinegar—all lovingly oiled and seasoned. The pasta achieves density and delicacy at once, in ravioli of rapini with pine nuts or hearty cavatelli lavished with chanterelles. A plain ragù featuring rich rolled Piedmontese egg-yolk noodles called tajarin is a masterpiece, giving Seattleites their first taste of pasta the way it’s done in Italy. A neighboring bar, Artusi, lets us drink like Italians too, in a room adorned with chef Jason Stratton’s art and featuring a menu of sophisticated Italian noshes and aperitifs. 

                    Cicchetti
121 E Boston St
Eastlake
206-859-4155
cicchettiseattle.com $$

Cicchetti Mediterranean

Nobody spins sexy ambience out of four walls and a kitchen like Susan Kaufman, whose Italian Serafina has played stage set now to two decades of pasta-twirling foreplay. She’s done it again, in a George Suyama–-designed building just across the leafy courtyard from Serafina’s back door. It’s called Cicchetti (chi-KET-tee), after the social style of small-plate dining in Venice. With the exception of the showstopping Venetian chandelier commissioned for the entryway, Cicchetti plays modern, angular sophisticate to Serafina’s older-world rusticity. And from upstairs, the sweep of the Seattle skyline will send a Manhattanesque shiver down the spine of any urbanite. Look for stunning cocktails and noshes reflecting the myriad Mediterranean influences the Moors hauled with them to Venice, from clams in fennel-saffron broth and prosciutto–goat cheese pizza to flatbread dips and crispy polenta cakes.

                  Cuoco
310 Terry Ave N
South Lake Union
206-971-0710
cuoco-seattle.com $$$

The 15th food-service enterprise that Seattle mega restaurateur Tom Douglas has crammed into a single square mile of downtown real estate is all about fresh pasta, crafted by hand at a station near the door and showing up on your plate in the form of items like (very) buttery cappelletti with gnocchi in nettle pesto or delicate seven-layer Bolognese lasagna. Robust secondi are better, including slices of smoky bistecca on bread salad: far and away the most fun steak is having in this town. The place is a looker, carved out of a South Lake Union brick-and-timber warehouse and sprawling into several private dining alcoves befitting different occasions and moods. Still it feels a little “seen this before,” missing the bracing originality that Douglas pretty much invented in Seattle.

                    How to Cook a Wolf
2208 Queen Anne Ave N
Queen Anne
206-838-8090
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

how to cook a wolf Italian

It’s Ethan Stowell’s lowest-ticket restaurant yet: a tiny neighborhood pocket on the top of Queen Anne whose barrel-vaulted ceiling and coppery light imparts a sense of a glowing hearth. The name honors M. F. K. Fisher’s 1942 paean to eating simply; a fitting benediction for a restaurant that celebrates small plates and uncomplicated pastas shimmering with earthy precision. Dishes like blush-perfect duck fanned across a plate with beets and mandarin oranges is about as wacky as Wolf’s kitchen gets; the rule tends to dishes more like a plate of orecchiette pasta with cauliflower, screaming with garlic and anchovies; or rolls of trofie pasta, intensely brightened with parsley-walnut pesto.

                    Il Corvo Pasta
217 James St
Pioneer Square
206-538-0999
ilcorvopasta.com $

il corvo pasta Italian

The order-at-the-counter, lunch-only relocation of a beloved pasta popup has hit its stride, serving three to five daily plates all made from pasta cut, extruded, or hand formed in house that morning. By about 11am, chef and owner and pasta geek Mike Easton emails a photo of the headliner dish to his slavering fans—a money shot of beet spaghetti in a caramelized garlic sauce perhaps, or conchiglie seashells wet with meaty ragù, or gnocchetti with sweet corn, fresh sage, and cream—and that one will sell out by 12:30 easy. His repertoire is bottomless, his seasonality admirable, his passion winning. A couple of salads and a dessert round out the offerings, making this ticket to Italy no more than $15. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Il Corvo Pasta: Mint Basil Parsley Pesto Pasta

            Il Terrazzo Carmine
411 First Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-467-7797
ilterrazzocarmine.com $$$

Nothing trendy about this timeless landmark, where the Smeraldo family—now without its patriarch, the late Carmine—has been serving sumptuous -Italian- classics for over two decades. If pressed, the establishment regulars will praise the peerless ossobuco, the garlicky rack of lamb, the noble cioppino—but nobody wants to cultivate competition for their favorite tables. Which, incidentally, are formally sheathed in white and arrayed handsomely in a windowed room, with a courtyard off the back for urban (um, loud) summer dining.

                  La Medusa
4857 Rainier Ave S
Columbia City
206-723-2192
lamedusarestaurant.com $$

The bold, briny flavors and Moorish influences of Sicilian food were unrepresented in this town till La Medusa took a chance on Columbia City. The place is now on its third set of owners, but they’ve retained the classics—the salt cod fritters in tomato sauce bright with capers and garlic, the spaghetti con le sarde studded with sardines, raisins, pine nuts, and olives—and even bettered a few things, like crispy-crusted pizzas. In summer try the prix-fixe Market Dinners when the Columbia City Farmers Market is in full bloom. Though the restaurant can make legitimate claim to culinary pretension, it’s just-folks enough to give the kids a hunk of pizza dough on arrival. It’s small, but uncomfortable chairs keep the waits short.

                    La Rustica
4100 Beach Dr SW
West Seattle
206-932-3020
larusticarestaurant.com $$$

When a fire temporarily shuttered this ristorante, West Seattleites acted like they’d lost their own homes. Their kitchens and dining rooms, anyway. La Rustica is the kind of place all its neighbors (and a few of its not-so-neighbors) regard as home away from home—so much that its size is no match for its fan base. (“Please be sensitive to waiting guests during peak hours,” the menu simpers.) Whether they praise the undersize place as “cozy” or pan it as “cramped,” they generally agree that the mottled walls, interior streetlights, and dripping grape vines cast an appealing Roman luster over the room. Straight-up Italian food completes the picture—bruschettas, pizzas, pastas, a robust toss of gnocchi and housemade sausage, a deservedly renowned lamb shank special with risotto and grilled vegetables; all served with addictive pillowy fingers of herbed garlic bread—providing happy sustenance and wistful homage to what life was like before Dr. Atkins came along and ruined everything.

                    La Vita è Bella Cafe and Pizzeria
2411 Second Ave
Belltown
206-441-5322
lavitaebella.us $$

The Sicilian proprietor named this Belltown cafe for the heartwarming Roberto Benigni film, and the place is warming as well—thanks to the brick oven behind the bar, the dimly lit intimacy of the -terra-cotta-tiled room, and inevitable after-work revelers. Start with the just-right caprese salad of tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil in extra virgin olive oil; for a zesty counterpoint try the caponata, a tangy eggplant appetizer. If the oven beckons, order one of 22 thin-crust pizzas. Otherwise, slightly spicy spaghetti di mare with tiger prawns, clams, mussels, Roma tomatoes, garlic, and white wine will serve well. And the pepper in the gnocchi al forno, served with Roma tomatoes and spinach, is moderated by chunks of fresh melty mozzarella.

                  Mondello Ristorante
2425 33rd Ave W
Magnolia
206-352-8700
mondelloristorante.com $$

Magnolians are wild about their merry trattoria, swathed in the hues of clear skies and rosy sunsets and accented with the homespun sorts of tchotchkes that give restaurants soul. Not that Mondello needed help with soul. Native Sicilians run the place, bringing a background burble of Italian to the house, which, combined with the lingua franca of classic Italian food (housemade pastas and zuppe and meaty secondi), makes Magnolia Village feel like a neighborhood in Palermo. We love the spaghetti gamberoni, served reliably hot with juicy prawns and layers of flavor, and the fish specials, lemony and elemental.

                Osteria da Primo
631B SW 152nd St
Burien
206-246-5561
osteriadaprimo.com $$

You have to want to find Osteria da Primo, tucked into an anonymous wall behind an unreadable sign it shares with the Ramlyn Engraving and Sign Co. (Look for the red oval.) Clearly, lots of folks around Burien want to find it. Clearly, Burien knows Italian. Carlo Guida gives scrupulous care and minimal fuss to a menu translated as intact as the chilled desserts he flies in from Milan. He’s Calabrese, and the South shows in arancini di riso (fried, mozzarella-stuffed rice balls), trofie allaputtanesca, and piquant seafood linguine “diavolati” (the Devil likes frutti di mare with his pepper). Plus sinfully juicy chicken cotoletta and veal -saltimbocca and a spinach-and-white-bean contorno that could stand alone. Add a Sicilian pizza master who knows a wood-fired crust is never to be crisped. Maybe it’s the effect of the wine-red walls, but every Southern vintage seems to taste better here.

Osteria la Spiga
1429 12th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-323-8881
laspiga.com $$

Osteria la spiga Italian                       

A lot of people adored the rustic La Spiga on Broadway, and a lot of people adore its sprawling replacement on 12th. They just aren’t the same people. The menu offers the same simple housemade tagliatelle and tortelli and crisp flatbread piadina, augmented now with more meat plates and enough vegetable sides to bliss out the herbivores. It’s the setting that’s grown up, much the way freckle-faced girls grow into tawny sophisticates. Once a hangarlike garage, the renovated Piston and Ring Building stands as a shrine to urbanity in shades of concrete and warm wood, with windows, which extend from the floor to the soaring ceiling, overlooking La Spiga’s broad deck. A loft raises private parties into the rafters. Beneath it the young and the old and plenty of the black clad, along with chefs wielding sheets of fresh pasta, buzz as if they had located the very epicenter of the Capitol Hill scene. (Which they have.)

Perché No Pasta and Vino
1319 N 49th St
Greenlake
206-547-0222
perchenopastaandvino.com $

perchÉ no pasta and vino Italian                       

The Greenlake branch of the late and much-mourned Queen Anne Perché No is about three times bigger than the original and determinedly child friendly, with a sunny multilevel interior, a noodle-heavy kids’ menu, the musical strains of “Funiculi Funiculà” bouncing through the room, and owners, the Kongs, who are as welcoming as long-lost relatives. Grownups will be more interested in the vast list of housemade pastas, which are sometimes just fine, like the squid-ink fettuccine with white beans, anchovies, and garlic; and other times underseasoned. You’ll also like the wine list, which includes a whopping three dozen wines by the glass. Servers, aside from those friendly Kongs, can sometimes lose control of the enormous space.

The Pink Door
1919 Post Alley
Pikr Place Market
206-903-5291
thepinkdoor.net $$

The pink door Italian                       

A quarter century ago, it was Seattle’s original cult restaurant: The enigmatic entrance (no sign, just a pink door off Post Alley), the Parisian flea market decor, dripping chandeliers, and—after a few years—the burlesque cabaret that if you timed it right would send Tamara the Trapeze Lady soaring over your bechamel lasagna. But more than any of these charms, the city owes its fondness for the Pink Door to the deck. Along about half past 80 degrees on a July afternoon, the ordinary Pike Place Market rooftop magically transforms into a slice of sun-dappled heaven. It’ll be so packed you’ll feel lucky just to be there, swizzling a pink vodka cocktail and twirling linguine and lazily watching the sun as it crashes into Elliott Bay. In short: The Door has never been about the food, a list of pastas and seafoods that unreliably satisfy. But we dare you to stop going. 

Rione XIII
401 15th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-838-2878
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$

rione xiii Italian

Ethan Stowell’s tribute to the delights of Roman cuisine hit the corner of 15th and Harrison so old souled and vibrant it felt essential from its first week. It’s urban cozy with medieval notes—stone walls, clerestory windows, warm wood-burning hearth—that strike a winning contrast with the mod mix of Hillsters who pop in for lunch and dinner. They’re chewing golden pizza crusts topped with things like Padrón peppers and pickled red onions; they’re spreading terrific salted housemade mozzarella and peach mostardaonto crusty toasted baguettes; they’re swooning over pastas like the smoky guanciale with chili pepper. Look for big meat plates, Roman-style gnocchi (made with semolina not potato), and a killer fried artichoke appetizer.

Image: Geoffrey Smith

Bucatini Amatriciana at Rione XIII

Ristorante Machiavelli
1215 Pine St
Captiol Hill
206-621-7941
machiavellis.com $$

ristorante machiavelli Italian                       

Go to the frenetic corner of Pine and Melrose. Step inside the bustling wedge of a restaurant. Enter Brooklyn. With only 14 tables, you will wait, but Machiavelli’s shadowy little bar is a very appealing place to do it, over some people watching par excellence—the whole spectrum of Capitol Hill’s monde and demimonde—and a terrific cocktail. Seasoned servers, who can turn a table without a whiff of a rush, can likewise turn a table on to some fine saucy classics—creamy Alfredos, kickin’ marinaras, and a fine carbonara. The veal is a house specialty and a guilty pleasure; the steak, known among cognoscenti, is a triumph. 

Salumi
309 Third Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-621-8772 
salumicuredmeats.com $

salumi Italian/Sandwiches                       

Yeah, this is the place you keep hearing about: the sliver of a Pioneer Square salumeria where the Batali clan proves, sandwich after savory sandwich, that scion and New York celeb chef Mario Batali isn’t their only claim to greatness. The fresh and cured meats are why. The Batalis’ old family recipes and apprenticeship with Tuscan butchers have resulted in a product quite unlike any other in town. It’s only open at lunch—there’s a line nearly every day waiting for them to unlock the doors—for meaty two-fisters of porchetta or prosciutto or aromatic meatballs, and much more. You may eat at a communal table; probably you’ll have to take it to go. You can also carry out the coppa or prosciutto or fresh sausage. Of course  the best way to experience the glory of this food is to reserve one of the twice weekly private tables for up to 10—off a long waiting list. 

                    Salvatore
6100 Roosevelt Way NE
Roosevelt
206-527-9301
salvatoreristoranteitaliano.com $$

When Salvatore opened its doors at the corner of 61st and Roosevelt, it was one of dozens of neighborhood Italian joints with reasonable price points and a joyful excess of chianti. Now, nearly 20 years later, Salvatore has proven itself an establishment of substance and staying power, thanks to Sal’s careful watch over every plate of clam linguine and vitello al limone that leaves his kitchen. Yep, that’s Sal over there at the grill; the guy all the regulars—and everyone’s a regular—like to saunter up to when they want extra anchovies in their aglio e olio. And a darned sure aglio e olio it’ll be, served by a crack old-school waiter with an impenetrable accent, a packed section, and a sheen of perspiration. He’s been working at least since the crowd began to gather on the sidewalk at quarter to five, and he’ll be running at least till the last diner stumbles home, drifting away on a fragrant cloud of sauteed garlic.

                    Staple and Fancy Mercantile
4739 Ballard Ave NW
Ballard
206-789-1200
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

Hard to say which is more effervescent, the place or the plates, at restaurant magnate Ethan Stowell’s (How to Cook a Wolf, Tavolàta, Anchovies and Olives, Rione XIII) giddiest enterprise. Even when its windows aren’t open onto the sidewalk, the dim, brick-lined, open-kitchen space in the historic Kolstrand Building seems to spill all its sexy cosmopolitan energy out onto Ballard Avenue. The modern Italian food is just as excited: velvety pork liver mousse spread thickly on crostini, perhaps, daurade over eggplant puree speckled with cherry tomatoes and kalamata olives, or mussel brodo with controne beans and green chilies. Flavors are big and bold—sometimes excessively so—and anchored in freshness and seasonality. And “staple” and “fancy” are more than just a nod to the old general store’s name: You can order a la carte—the staple way—or get, well, fancy, putting yourself in the kitchen’s hands for four courses of its choosing, just $50 per person, served family style to the whole table. Do we really need to tell you which one to pick?

                  Tavolàta
2323 Second Ave
Belltown
206-838-8008
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

Belltown’s hottest spot is so coolly Italian it practically has a Vespa parked out front. Wait—that isa Vespa parked out front. It’s owner Ethan Stowell’s, for zipping between here and his other restaurants (How to Cook a Wolf, Anchovies and Olives, etc.) Few chefs comprehend exactly what it takes to wow a palate like Stowell does. Here he wows with fresh housemade pastas, tossed simply with elegant enhancements like veal brains and brown butter, or short ribs and parsley. Truth be told, we prefer the main dishes—richly braised meats like lamb shank with eggplant, a masterful plate of branzino—since the short-order mandate of the pastas can get the better of its bustling open kitchen when the place gets slammed. And here we should note that we’ve never seen this concrete-and-wood, lofted urban hot spot with the windows that open onto the sidewalk not slammed: The big communal table in the center fills up fast, and the energy is irresistible.

            Tulio
1100 Fifth Ave
Downtown
206-624-5500
tulio.com $$$

This handsome white-linen, wood-paneled ristorante off the downtown Hotel Vintage Park might appear the product of a hotel-restaurant cookie cutter, from waiters with Continental accents to busers in neckties. But closer inspection rewards with inspired-Italian-with-a-flourish fare—preparations like a melting braised pork shank over fat corona beans crowned with horse-radish gremolata, crispy duck over farro studded with marinated figs, or a distinctively seasoned pasta alla-chitarra with braised pork, rosemary, and ricotta—pulled off with consistency rare in a hotel restaurant. The centrally located room is intimate, warmed by a wood-burning oven, and upstairs boasts a private room resembling an aristocrat’s library.

The sweet potato gnocchi has been on the menu since 1992. Photo via Tulio.

                  Volterra
5411 Ballard Ave NW
Ballard
206-789-5100
volterrarestaurant.com $$$

How do a pair of Italian restaurants with the same names, menus, and owners manage to feel so very different? By virtue of addresses on rustic Ballard Ave and newfangled Kirkland. Atmospherically the Ballard original’s ruddy, romantic charm feels Tuscan while Kirkland’s glassy, generic sophistication feels more Milanese—but both of the relatively unchanging menus offer Northern Italian menus favoring the tried and true over innovation: dishes like tender nuggets of wild boar tenderloin with lush gorgonzola cream, polenta custard oozing fontina and poured over with wild mushroom ragù, or pork jowl, wild mushroom, truffle-butter pasta. Blandness can beset the kitchens (particularly Kirkland’s), and service can swerve between chilly and obsequious.

Alicia Fusion Bistro
200 Lake Washington Blvd
Leschi
206-324-6388 
aliciafusion.com $$$

ALICIA FUSION BISTRO  Vietnamese                       

Ten bucks for banh mi, the iconic Vietnamese baguette sandwich you can grab at delis all over town for under $4? Welcome to the polished, candlelit antidive whose banh mi is a warm, crusty baguette crammed with a moist, pulled roast Carlton Farms pork, crackling pickled veggies, and silky garlic aioli. It’s notably fresh and terrific—as are the brisket pho, grilled lemongrass chicken vermicelli bowls, and other Vietnamese classics of the sort you might find at the Kuang family’s other restaurants, the fanatically beloved Green Leafs. But the real glories of Alicia are its mad forays into successful Vietnamese--Continental fusion: dishes like gilded scallops over sweet corn and a savory cilantro-flecked onion sauce, or a petite burger crafted of Mishima Ranch beef and pickled vegetables and brisk lime aioli. 

                    Barnacle
4743 Ballard Ave NW
Ballard
206-7063379
thebarnaclebar.com $$

At Boat Street Cafe, the Walrus and the Carpenter, and the Whale Wins, Renee Erickson has showcased two distinct gifts: sourcing and presenting perfect seafood, and spinning a magical sense of place. Both are in full bloom at Barnacle, her skinny 20-seater with the copper counter, the Euro bar, and the chalkboard menu—heavy on the fishies. Don’t go expecting dinner—the place was conceived as the antipasti anteroom to Ballard’s ever-packed Walrus—but the genius of the joint is in the care it takes with mere tipples and nibbles: Items like octopus terrine in rich Ligurian olive oil with lemon, or Italian bread with escabeche mussels and cilantro sauce. Seven or eight of these “snacks” happen nightly, for pairing with the cocktails, amari, proseccos, and other Italian drinkables. As for that patented Erickson atmo? The room is wrapped in white and indigo Moroccan tiles. Uh huh. 
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Barnacle

       Bourbon and Bones
4350 Leary Way NW
Fremont
206-582-2241
 $$$

BOURBON AND BONES  Barbeque

An undersize North Carolina roadhouse in Frelard with crashing music and 100-proof moonshine also has a maestro at the helm: Mike Law, who applies his impressive culinary pedigree to Texas smoked brisket and lemony fried chicken. Sides trend bland (best are the vinegary coleslaw and subtly lovely grits), and inconsistency can plague the meats, but take advantage of Law’s culinary ingenuity by ordering off the daily sheet—especially his salads and outlandish, unmissable desserts.

                    Brimmer and Heeltap
425 NW Market St
Ballard
206-420-2534
brimmerandheeltap.com $$$

BRIMMER AND HEELTAP  Korean

Out of a winsome whitewashed farmhouse setting in Ballard come plates of inspired Korean fusion so buoyant they ricochet across the palate like pinballs: dishes like octopus-mizuna salad frisky with herbs and root vegetables and chili oil, or sumptuous morsels of broiled pork shoulder with kimchi-doused green apples—served as larges or smalls to enable full dinners or affordable grazing. The food is intelligent and satisfying, the welcome genuine, the bar scene lively (credit thoughtful cocktails), and the enchanting hidden courtyard a sun-dappled must on the romance tour. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Brimmer and Heeltap

                    Cassis
2820 Alki Ave SW
West Seattle
206-743-8351
cassisalki.com $$$

CASSIS  French

The French bistro that stole Seattle’s heart in the ’90s returns in a storefront along the Alki shore. When dishes fail it’s toward blandness, so seek your genuinely charming waiter’s advice (we’ve enjoyed the bistro burger, the steak frites, and a seriously extraordinary housemade chicken-liver pate) and enjoy the gracious welcome and the panoramic view through rollup doors.

       Chippy's Fish and Drink
4741 Ballard Ave NW
Ballard
206-257-4390
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

CHIPPY'S FISH AND DRINK   Seafood

It’s just angelically, impossibly good: two plump chunks of true cod, flaky and mild and clean, cloaked in a just-shy-of-sweet batter and gilded in the fryer to a spectacular crunch. Dipped in spicy mayo or housemade remoulade—or not dipped at all—they make the best fish you’ve had in forever. Overstuffed crab rolls are lush with lemon aioli and avocado, in shattering French bread; clam chowder is creamy and heady with aromatics. Drop-in casual, Ballard indie, heavy on the scotch at the bar, stiffer than you expect on the bill.

Damn The Weather
116 First Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-946-1283
damntheweather.com $$

DAMN THE WEATHER  Small Plates, Bar 

Nowhere has bar food progressed from Booze Ballast to Whole Point more auspiciously than in this diner’s watering hole, part of Pioneer Square’s ascent to gustatory destination. All dim and brick lined, the place unites brainy cocktails with sly small plates: maybe grilled peaches with celery leaf and fennel and a smear of blue cheese puree, maybe a duck hot dog with salsa verde, maybe a Caesar salad stunningly recast in sandwich form.

                    Humble Pie
525 Rainier Ave S
International District
206-329-5133
humblepieseattle.com$$

Not even the Space Needle delivers a stiffer shot of Seattle than an organic pizza joint, hand built of recycled materials by its LEED-certified architect owner—he even made the stools. Humble Pie smokes its own GMO-free pulled pork, imports fewer than five ingredients from out of state, processes its own rainwater, and maintains a chicken coop. Snicker at your own peril, for these are killer, wood-fired pizza crusts, thin but with plenty of spring in the chew, topped with combos like organic Fuji apples, Beecher’s Flagship cheese, and bacon or smoked eggplant with cherry tomatoes and red onions. Mostly outdoor seating makes this a mostly-in-summer place, but bevs (boutique brews, lots of ciders) and the neighborhood vibe are irresistible even if you have to cram into the tiny building. 

                    Le Petit Cochon
701 N 36th St
Fremont
206-829-8943
gettinpiggy.com $$$

LE PETIT COCHON  New American

In a spot twinkling and cozy, with an upstairs view out over the heart of Fremont, owner-chef Derek Ronspies makes mad use of every last part of the animals he serves, duck testicles and pig face to blood sausage and offal crepinette. It won’t be for everyone. But Ronspies’s devotion to pork, short but various menu (including plenty of fish and vegetables), surprisingly classical culinary vision, and killer cocktails ensure that it will be for a whole lot of people. His two-inch-thick Olsen Farms pork chop is not just dinner, it’s a revelation—flawlessly moist and big enough for two to use as a base around which to assemble a feast.

                    Liam's Bistro
2685 NE 46th St
University Village
206-527-6089
liamsbistro.com $$$

LIAM'S BISTRO  New American

From the brains behind Beecher’s mac and cheese comes a crowd-pleasing shared-plate sprawler in U Village that’s a little too loud, a little too big (they may have to tell you they’re running behind in the kitchen), a little too green servicewise (apologizing for a wilted salad even as they set it before us). Food—ranging from sophisticated starters through soups, salads, fish, meat, pastas, and a good selection of veggies—barely rises above mediocre until dessert, when it shape-shifts into a stunning place for pear-cherry galette, a German chocolate bar, or a cheesecake made of lightly sweetened Beecher’s Flagship Cheddar, served in a lickable pool of black currant caramel. 

                    The London Plane
300 Occidental Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-624-1374
thelondonplaneseattle.com $$

THE LONDON PLANE  Salads and Sandwiches

An eloquent country-house aesthetic prevails in this airy, two-level space off Occidental, with its bakery, deli, and in-house flower shop, painting a Jane Austen dream of the English countryside—right down to the cobblestones and leafy London plane trees out the window. Foodwise it’s breakfast, lunch, and brunch iterations of Matt Dillon’s (Sitka and Spruce, Bar Sajor) signature passions: bold salads with grains and vegetables, lots of cultured dairy, extraordinary brown bread for spreading, and plenty of vinegar counterpoints. Don’t miss a slice of strawberry cake or gateau Basque for dessert—this bakery is outstanding. 

                    Loulay
600 Union St
Downtown
206-402-4588
thechefinthehat.com $$$

loulay  French

The epicenter of downtown from the moment it opened—Loulay is one of the most cosmopolitan lunch and dinner stops in Seattle, its packed bar and plummy fixtures and soaring sight lines making it feel like a great party in a gloriously unaffordable home. The huge room has plenty of seating options, romantic (the corner table in the bar should have a room number) to solo to life of the party, from which to sample the classic food of seasoned chef Thierry Rautureau (and his staff from the former Rover’s). Look for careful execution on short, well-chosen menus of both French classics (terrific fish dishes, seared foie gras) and accessible everyman food, like the killer 12-buck rib-eye burger, at prices below what you might expect amid this much style. Great service. 

                    Miller's Guild
612 Stewart St
Downtown
206-443-3663
millersguild.com $$$

MILLER'S GUILD  Steak House

This all-day downtown restaurant adjoining the lobby of the Hotel Max is like a cave designed by Martha Stewart: lights low, lines classic, firewood stacked at the entrance, flames leaping brightly out of the custom-built nine-foot grill in back. And holding forth at those flames is chef Jason Wilson, who eschews the nuanced refinements of his other restaurant, Crush, in favor of big pedigreed steaks, less-than-fascinating sides, and appetizers with an inexplicable Middle Eastern inclination. Salads are the best things on the menu. 

                    Morsel and Bean
5905 15th Ave NW
Ballard 
206-457-5735

4754 University Way NE
University District
206-268-0154
morselseattle.com $ 

MORSEL AND BEAN  Coffeehouse, Americana

Of a weekend morning you’ll invariably find a baby crying in this overcrowded Ballard brunch shack, possibly a clutch of feral toddlers, and several pairs of finger-twining lovers—all tucking into biscuits that define the Platonic ideal of biscuitude. This is the newer outpost of Morsel on the Ave, which inherited its biscuit mandate (if not its recipe) from the much-mourned Nook, and whose product is every bit as exceptional—craggy-crunchy on the outside, angelically fluffy and just-over-the-border of sweet within. And—as luck would have it—enormous, whether as a buttermilk or a daily special biscuit, perhaps carrot cardamom, sliced and warmed and honey buttered, or as an overstuffed, melting colossus of bacon, scrambled egg, cheese, and fire-roasted tomato jam. Coffee is terrific and servers are sweet. Drive-through window! Note also the original quarters on the Ave.

                  Pizzeria Gabbiano
240 Second Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-209-2231
pizzeriagabbiano.com $$

The flights of sly imagination Mike Easton brings to nanoseasonal daily pastas at Il Corvo he applies to Roman-style pizzas—pay by the kilo—in this windowy brick-lined Pioneer Square room for weekday lunches. The kitchen’s so open you can watch the cooks snapping beans and shucking corn. Yes, corn—one of the many why-not pizza toppings that establish Easton’s signature pizza style: heaping vegetables and herbs and cheeses and cured meats in undreamt-of combos, four or five a day, like squash with pancetta and nutmeggy bechamel or—they can’t make enough of this one—mozzarella and mortadella with oily drizzles of pistachio pesto, all on thick tasty crusts. Has a pizza meal ever left you so radiantly nourished? (Note to the confused: The entrance is on Main.)

                    Pomerol
127 N 36th St
Fremont
206-632-0135
pomerolrestaurant.com $$$

pomerol French

From prolific Continental classicist Vuong Loc comes a sleek, modern, and crisp-edged room that looks like Fremont but cooks like France. Off a wood-fired grill come highly composed plates of unapologetically traditional fare—glistening short ribs over cauliflower puree with shallot confit, slices of lamb leg on an anise-fennel-carrot braise, moist pan-roasted chicken in a lush sherry sauce—executed with a seasoned hand and near-perfect consistency. Desserts are busy, busy, busy—but delectable. 

                    Quality Athletics
121 S King St
Pioneer Square
206-420-3015
qualityathletics.com $$

quality athletics New American

With its ironic, shiny Astroturf decor, attention on the menu to high-quality ingredients, and menu items like tartines and quinoa salads—this all-day drop-in near the stadiums is not your daddy’s sports bar. Some will like it better, with its emphasis less on sports bar classics and more on platters to share (fish tacos, 24-ounce grilled tri-tip) around the game on TV or the fire pits outside. Some of the more exuberant attempts at originality fall flat, so we advise sticking with tried-and-trues like a braised lamb tostada with avocado cream and cotija cheese, or the simple veg plates from the roof garden. Private rooms.

            Red Cow
1423 34th Ave
Madrona
206-454-7932
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$$

A French bistro menu, a fleet of crisp-white-shirted waiters, and a bubbling crowd greet diners in this fourth iteration of the minimalist cement-walled space on the Madrona strip—the best iteration yet. The reason? The steak frites lineup, offering five cuts of meat up the ladder of price points with a choice of four sauces—a swell match to how the Madrona mix of families and young professionals want to eat. (No need to venture beyond the $21 hanger steak, btw; it’s plenty tender and flavorful.) Beyond that, the Ethan Stowell quality control in the kitchen is amply evident across bistro classics; if it’s available don’t miss the lush goat cheese–mushroom tartine. Great bar. 
 

                Restaurant Marron
806 E Roy St
Capitol Hill
206-322-0409
restaurantmarron.com $$$$

Inside Seattle’s most historic dining room, decorated with murals of a Pushkin fairy tale—two-, three-, five-, and many-more-course dinners proceed along a familiar trifecta: French technique, Northwest sourcing, Asian inflections. The changing menu may include triumphs (heirloom eggplant two ways with baby leeks in a foie gras vinaigrette), but productions don’t always rise above the sum of the parts—something you expect at these prices. Service is careful; at times, overly so. 

                    RockCreek Seafood and Spirits
4300 Fremont Ave N
Fremont
206-557-7532
rockcreekseattle.com $$$

Chef Eric Donnelly built his casual raw-beamed fish house as a Montana fishing lodge smack in the heart of upper Fremont. And if the deep menu seems overambitious—a dozen each of small plates and large ones, and that’s just the seafood—Donnelly has navigated his share of long menus in corporate restaurants, with startling success. Here, his wild Mexican prawns over Anson Mills grits is a sure-handed and bright Napa Valley–style plate; his mad variety of finfish preparations, often topped with handfuls of leafy herbs, are exact and supremely satisfying. Affable service completes the picture; a perfect place to bring your out-of-town guests. Open late. 

                    Roux
4201 Fremont Ave N
Fremont
206-547-5420
restaurantroux.com $$$

The bricks-and-mortar restaurant version of fabled New Orleans food truck, Where Ya At Matt?—Roux on the Fremont Avenue hill radiates rustic Southern sweetness in a high-ceilinged room with red tufted booths and a central open kitchen. Lunch may be the best time to visit, when sunlight streams in the windows and the menu lists nearly a dozen varieties of po’boy sandwich—of which the oyster version is the finest in town. Evenings when the lights go down, the music goes up, the mixologist clocks in, and prices gently rise—Roux’s plates of bold Creole classics can be terrific, particularly the shrimp and grits. If braised rabbit leg with mustard greens over corn-bread puree is on the menu—order it. And save room for swoony beignets. 

                  Tallulah's
550 19th Ave E
Capitol Hill
206-860-0077
aneighborhoodcafe.com $$

Slackers who once hauled hangovers to brunch at Linda’s Tavern are married and mortgaged Mad men now, preferring their neighborhood restaurants sophisticated and their Bombay Sapphire tonics with a pinch of ginger. For them there’s Tallulah’s, from the very same Linda (Derschang, who has also brought us King’s Hardware, Oddfellows, Smith, and Bait Shop): A classy, glassy marvel of midcentury good taste amid the fine homes of North Capitol Hill, where aging hipsters chat loudly beneath floating globe pendants, enjoying weekend brunches like chunky corned beef hash with poached eggs and evening noshes (topped flatbreads, veggie small plates) and healthy mains. Cocktails are creative, coffee is Stumptown, gluten free and vegan are carefully marked on the menu, and a welcoming staff scatters bonhomie about the room.

                Trove
500 E Pike St
Capitol Hill
206-457-4622
troveseattle.com $$$

Rachel Yang and Seif Chirchi (Joule, Revel) fuse Korean food; that’s what they do. Here in Trove’s four operations in one—cocktail lounge, fast-food noodle bar, Korean barbecue dining room, parfait truck—the element being fused is fun. Twelve-buck noodle dishes from the counter up front might include Asian “spaghetti” with Swiss chard and meatballs; desserts from the clever sawed-off ice cream truck facade are classic frozen custard parfaits, some tweaked with Asian elements like miso caramel. (And don’t miss the visual puns all over the bustling red-ceilinged room, from the Godzilla–eats–Space Needle wallpaper to the whimsical scene inside the truck’s gas cap.) But the main event is Korean barbecue in the main dining room where tables have grills for DIY cooking of cuts like Wagyu chuck or pork belly with sesame salt. Take your meat off the heat, cut it with scissors, then dress it with the lettuce leaves and fresh herbs and kimchi and other Korean embellishments known as banchan and ssam—marveling as the flavors and textures ricochet around your palate, enhanced with every collision.

Witness
410 Broadway E
Capitol Hill
206-329-0248
witnessbar.com $$

witness Southern          

Apparently Broadway needed a shot of old-time religion, because it has taken to this Southern church–themed bar with evangelical zeal. Partly that’s because of the food: straightup Southern fare—shrimp and grits, Carolina pulled-pork sliders, buttermilk beignets—that’s impossible not to crave, even if it can err on the side of blandness. (The fried chicken and waffles featured terrific bourbon maple syrup, but the chicken strips—crisp and moist to be sure—held no flavor.) The cocktails, for their part, runneth over with flavor—including hickory-smoked cherry in the bourbon-and-Benedictine concoction known as Witness cocktail; and a tequila, lime-ginger beer--cassis blend, el Diablo, one can only call inspired. Happy hour here, with $6 cocktails amid twinkling votives and 100-year-old church pews, turns late afternoon into a religious experience. 

Westward
2501 N Northlake Way
Wallingford
206-552-8215
westwardseattle.com $$$

westward Mediterranean, Seafood                      

In summer it’s pure Hamptons, as you tie your boat to the North Lake Union dock and slurp beautifully shucked oysters at an Adirondack chair on the tiny beach. In winter it’s all about the cozy, sipping inspired cocktails inside the whimsical basement in the glow of the hearth oven. All year long Westward is a thoroughly original collision of Northwest seafood and Mediterranean preparations, in dishes like wood-roasted branzino with tart avgolemono sauce for doctoring or killer fish stew in currylike ras el hanout broth. Inventions can miss from time to time, and the place can suffer from a surfeit of tropes. But oh, that beach in summer.

Image: Olivia Brent

The pomme de terre (aka a clever potato salad) at Hommage.

One of Seattle’s more prevalent restaurant tics right now is the switch-up—restaurateurs closing their business under one name, then reopening in the same space under a different one, sometimes with a new chef or concept. The benefits of this are clear in the era of Yelp, whose reader evaluations live on into eternity. Changing names has a certain wipe-the-slate-clean appeal. 

Restaurateurs Sumi and Michael Almquist got word last spring that Shaun McCrain, the chef they’d hired to launch their Book Bindery, would be leaving to open his own place. With McCrain taking his general manager and beverage director with him, the Almquists were looking at a fresh new start for the classic space appended to their winery in the office-park district across the ship canal from Fremont. They ate around town and found at Artusi Nico Borzee, a young Frenchman who had worked in Michelin-starred restaurants including San Francisco’s Coi. They closed for a couple of months, painted creamy surfaces a more contemporary blue, rewrote the menu, and in October Hommage was born.

They weren’t looking to recreate the Book Bindery, it of the elegant appointments and modernist meat-and-potatoes preparations and Seattle Tennis Club guest list. No, Hommage was going for something more youthful, more everyday in its appeal (even, as Sumi Almquist has said in interviews, a place to bring the kids), more comfort-food oriented, more accessible. Indeed, we walked into a room both darker—against which the twinkling bar seemed to loom larger—and louder, pulsing with chill music. More youthful, absolutely.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

The slightly modified dining room at Hommage.

More accessible…not so much. Speaking literally, the restaurant’s lack of a sign ensures that. (Already one of Seattle’s guaranteed U-turns, finding Hommage without a sign all but guarantees a long overshoot, then a U-turn.) The menu is organized not by course, but by type of food—Dairy, Seafood, Animal—which delivers another layer of obscurity as you work out how to put a sensible meal together. Study the menu awhile and you’ll see by the prices that two of the Seafoods and two of the Animals must be entree-sized (waiters are supposed to mention that; ours did not). Less dinner house than nosh bar, Hommage is the restaurant a winery built—loaded with fromages and terrines (including a terrific rabbit terrine with onion jam and potent mustard and sea salt on the side) that beg for fat cabernets. 

It’s precious and meant to be; the kind of place where the bread plate is listed under Dairy as beurre, and not just any butter, but butter that has been cultured with charred corn husk. (Bring the kids?) Hommage is aiming a straight pitch at the young cosmopolitan connoisseurs who roam the world’s cities photographing their plates.

Image: Olivia Brent

New chef Nico Borzee.

Some of Borzee’s food they’ll love, like his clever potato salad (unhelpfully listed on the menu just as pomme de terre) mingling halved potatoes with slivers of Granny Smith apple, a lush aiolilike egg sauce called a gribiche, and speckles of leek oil: stylish and satisfying. Similarly, Borzee’s sea scallops in two sauces—one a caramel of star anise, the other a lush cauliflower-coconut puree—were tons of fun, spangled with cauliflower bites. A dessert—a cloud of foamy chocolate mousse surrounding a dense cold core of bitter chocolate sorbet and a dulce de leche fascinator that ate like the textural love child of a crackling wafer and a chocolate bar—was a magnificence of saturated flavor, brilliant in execution: the best dessert I’ve had in ages.

And then there was the boeuf Bourguignon with mushrooms and truffle potatoes gratin: so overrich and overdone it had no business in a restaurant, period. Ah inconsistency…perhaps the most youthful quality of all. The folks seated next to us, young tourists from Japan, took avid pictures of all their dishes, both the ones they enjoyed and those they didn’t, decamping after entrees to Uber it up to Capitol Hill. “That’s where the nightlife is,” they told their waiter.

Across town, Borzee’s former boss Jason Stratton (Cascina Spinasse, Artusi) presides over his own switch-up, the Italian Vespolina (nee the Spanish Aragona) on First and Union. Much attention was paid that turn-on-a-dime conversion last September, wrought after Stratton and his investors realized nobody understood the arcane Catalan dishes he was producing there. Folks would sit down, scan the menu, then stand up and leave—a shock of cold water to the face of the chef whose Italian Spinasse and Artusi on Capitol Hill were nightly turning folks away. 

It is to Stratton’s great practical credit that he swallowed his ego and let the market drive him back to the Italian lineup of antipasti, housemade pastas, and crowd-pleasingly meaty mains that work so well at Spinasse. A turn, as at Hommage, for the accessible. Mind you, Vespolina is no Spinasse redux—the decor of the high-ceilinged, high-windowed room, virtually unchanged from its gig as Aragona, is airier and colder than the burnished-wood warmth that is Spinasse. 

Moreover Vespolina lacks Spinasse’s pasta—and not just its signature rich tajarin. No, it lacks Spinasse’s way with pasta; detectable on several visits in the form of a gummy lamb ragù cavatelli, a bland and bloodless guanciale carbonara, a cliche of a squash ravioli with sage butter and amaretti.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Vespolina's strascinati pasta with pork ragú, olives, and a ricotta of Meyer lemon

Let the tourists order these—for Stratton has figured out that that’s who he’s cooking for in this Four Seasons Hotel district. Stratton fans should aim instead into the ragged chicory salads and antipasto plates and sagey glazed-carrot contorni and, mostly, really fine meats—from a braised duck leg with pears and vivid taggiasca olives to a killer plate of slow-roasted pork ribs over tuna sauce. This last is a Piedmontese leitmotif from Stratton’s other Italian houses, for delectable reason. He also has no qualms about reprising stuff from the old Aragona card, only in Italian garb—the same stuffed trout, only now with prosciutto and Marsala; the same fried dough dessert with truffle salt, now called bombolini, and every bit as sexy a triumph.

From the look of it, guests are liking Vespolina better than they ever did Aragona. Does that mean it is better? Well, now we’re in the realm of philosophy. Two restaurants, both of which reinvented themselves in a more populist direction, are currently taking stock. Hommage isn’t as solid or as compelling yet as Book Bindery was, while Vespolina is much more satisfying than Aragona—but for these establishments’ owners, the proof of the success will be a matter of butts in seats. 

And butts in seats ultimately comes down to three things even more important than menu organization or pasta proficiency: location, location, and location. Hommage wants a young hip demographic, but can offer neither the buzzy neighborhood nor the foot traffic to draw them in. Vespolina knows it needs tourists and has offered the centrally located, accessible Italian menu no tourist in history has ever been known to resist. 

In the end, perhaps that’s the only verdict needed.

This article appeared in the February 2015 issue of Seattle Met magazine.

Image: Olivia Brent

The occupants of maybe two dozen apartments can glance out their windows to see if Single Shot has an open table. It won’t—this joint is the hottest ticket in town—but its location in the midst of North Capitol Hill’s densest density is woven into its rather epic appeal. It feels like a twinkling little rabbit hole you’d tumble into off a sidewalk in Brooklyn. And whatever intangible it takes to invest a place with a sense of place—Single Shot has it, with an understated white-on-white elegance from marble bar to starry votives, and a 12-foot antique rifle stretching across the mirror-backed bar for arch counterpoint. Best, you are welcomed by the sincerest guy in the restaurant business, Altura’s former front man Guy Kugel—all of which conspires to make this the most enviable neighborhood in Seattle…and we haven’t even gotten to the cocktails yet. 

So with all this in the plus column, it’s a little deflating to pronounce the food improvable, from a hamachi tuna starter whose avocado and grapefruit embellishments aren’t interesting with it, to a pork chop fanned over spaghetti squash that doesn’t add up to anything beyond the sum of the parts. Now and again you can taste the gastronomic IQ of chef James Sherrill (Restaurant Zoë, Re:public)—roasted cauliflower and kohlrabi in a smoky romesco sauce had me scribbling OMG all over my notebook—but consistency evades him. 

He can, however, cook a piece of Arctic char to within a millimeter of perfection. And the good sense he demonstrates by showcasing that fish on a menu that defines the perfect neighborhood gastropub—a flatbread, a mac and cheese, some charcuterie, a pub cheese, four entrees, a few sweets—heralds good things, one hopes, to come. Allow time to find parking, though moving to the neighborhood may be faster.

This article appeared in the March 2015 issue of Seattle Met magazine. 

Image: Olivia Brent

Passing Plates Diners choose whatever looks appealing off trays or a bright red cart.

When Heong Soon Park was scripting the followup to Chan, his Korean-fusion jewel box in Pike Place Market, he knew the restaurant he wanted to open. He just needed permission.

So he emailed Stuart Brioza, his friend of a friend who co-owns State Bird Provisions, the San Francisco sensation which applies the dim sum delivery model to small plates of East-West fusion. “I want to introduce a similar concept in Seattle, but I don’t want to be disrespectful,” Park wrote Brioza—who thanked him for the tribute but demurred on the permission. It’s not my concept, Brioza told Park. They’ve been doing this in China for some time.

To be fair—not precisely this. The cart at Tray Kitchen, which Park opened along Leary Way late last year, features little plates of things like kimchi falafel and deep-fried-pork-belly salad with beets and jalapeños and citrus—nary a dumpling in sight. Indeed the doughy excesses of dim sum are overridden by a clear bias away from starches (you can’t even get a bowl of steamed rice) and, for that matter, away from dim sum’s traditionalist directives. 

For Park, seasonality and innovation are more important than strict cultural adherence; he even leases an Eastside patch of farmland so his kids can see that carrots get pulled out of dirt, not Whole Foods produce displays. The result at Tray Kitchen is a United Nations of seasonally sensible small plates, many of which are very nice, like beautifully marinated Moroccan lamb, a traditional preparation with housemade yogurt and sprightly puckers of preserved lemon. Those fresh carrots, pulled out of the ground, arrive roasted and served among chunks of French feta and toasted fennel and sunflower seeds; butter-poached shrimp, fat ones popping with juice, repose upon sauteed broccoli and red onion in a round Thai vinaigrette; Korean fried chicken wings, lacquered red as antique Chinese chests with fierce Korean chili sauce, are fried to maximum craveability.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Messy, but Worth It Korean fried chicken wings (aka KFC) from the a la carte menu

Each of these we chose off a passing cart, which trundled up every 10 minutes or so on a crowded Friday night. In Tray Kitchen parlance this is a push, a term that can feel particularly apt if your server is avid. “This one’s awesome, you have to get it!” ours commanded, pointing to a small dish of kale salad—and indeed it was, redolent of a toasty sunflower-seed nuttiness along with juicy bursts of apple and chunky almonds and the luscious cream of sheep’s milk cheese. But the concept itself breeds doubt: Did the pusher just need to unload it? Whatever goes out on a push, after all, has only one chance to be sold before it’s deemed unserveable; a reality that in Tray’s early days freaked Park out. “I wasn’t sending out enough food, so we were getting complaints,” he said. “My wife sat me down. ‘You have to play the game! You can’t be scared to waste food!’ ”

He’s now down to “wasting” some 10 plates a night, for which he credits a restaurant design affording the open kitchen full view of the house for optimal pacing. The space is small, yet high ceilinged and barny, all contemporary blond grays and unupholstered surfaces, and about as loud as a restaurant gets. You can’t converse in here, really, which is okay once you realize you’re going to be interrupted all night anyway—and not just at pushing time. “Liking everything so far?” we heard, oh, eight or nine times that first night alone.

“Jeez,” my companion grumbled. “It’s like Nordstrom in here.” 

Indeed, the concept has its limitations. My second visit, on a slow Tuesday night, featured just two pushes, which they reduce when numbers are low, and which effectively transforms Tray Kitchen into plain old regular kitchen. In lieu of the cart you order off a fresh sheet—an option even when the cart is rolling—and which yielded at least one dish we liked very much: fried rice enriched with duck confit and a soy-cured egg yolk. 

But when nearly every dish attempts some sort of concept, there are lots of opportunities for going wrong, a phenomenon Park dolefully admits he’s learned reading Tray’s Yelp reviews. Among problems we encountered were overcooked meat, as in the generous hunk of brisket over yams and onions and the rubbery grilled Alaskan octopus over ancho chili aioli; well-meaning but unintegrated innovations like the pork belly salad melange mentioned above; and way too much blandness, from the smoked trout mousse with housemade potato chips (who’d think this would need salt?) to grilled spareribs bored out of their minds with tame sauteed kale and citrus glaze. 

All that tepid conception, along with too little clever fusion, tells me someone in Tray’s kitchen is pulling punches, holding back on the intrigue and boldness and vision such a place can uniquely deliver. (Indeed, many of these dishes are thinly veiled recastings of dishes at Chan.) Desserts are a richly flavorful exception, especially stunners like the matcha green tea semifreddo and the chai creme brulee.

In the end, it’s a matter of expectations. Growing up in Korea, Park recalls his family would go to restaurants when their pantry was low. When he moved here, he was surprised to see that people go to restaurants to linger and enjoy themselves. Tray Kitchen falls into the first category. There are those interruptions. Dishes don’t always bring out the best in other dishes; diners are pairing flavors, after all, that would be best done by the wiser palates in the kitchen. Juicy things like Tray Kitchen’s steamed mussels in coconut milk or black cod over dashi broth are ill suited to the dim sum setup, being nearly impossible to split. 

Alas, those problems beset nearly every other small plate restaurant, tapas bars to happy hours—of which Tray Kitchen is, for all its fanfare as groundbreaker, simply another iteration.

This article appeared in the March 2015 issue of Seattle Met magazine.

Image: Olivia Brent

Artusi

Artusi
1535 14th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-251-7673
artusibar.com $$

Artusi  Italian                       

A mod shot of Italy in the heart of Pike/Pine, Artusi is Cascina Spinasse’s sister aperitivo bar; stocked to the nines with grappas and amari and the stuzzichini (“little nibbles”) to offset them. Spinasse chef Jason Stratton is the artist at the helm (that’s his art on the walls too, believe it or not), presenting the occasional echo of next door—do not pass up the salsa tonnata, or tuna mayonnaise, in either house—but mostly staking out territory that’s more minimalist and contemporary than Spinasse’s. If it’s on the menu, go for the tripe with bone marrow and black truffles, in which the tender braised tripe plays a pastalike role in a superrich sauce. Lively till late. Closed Sun.

                   Bar Cotto Salumeria and Bar
1546 15th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-838-8081
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$

Empire builder Ethan Stowell built this nosh bar next to his Anchovies and Olives as an overhead diffuser—but the sleek, modern Italian room with its raw bulbs and stainless tables adds up to a fine destination by itself. One can pretty affordably assemble a giddy repast from some 10 varieties of salumi, several vegetable nibbles, a half dozen bruschetta, and a dozen or so pizzas. Toppings are beautiful on the pizzas—particularly housemade guanciale, mozzarella, and a sweet dusting of fennel pollen—but the crackly-pillowy-blistery crusts are too oily. Instead, try some salumi with torta fritta (the hot, savory beignets Northern Italians melt their salumi around) along with a perky toss of, say, marinated beets with pistachios and golden raisins, and a nice, stiff (exquisite) cocktail. 

       Barnacle
4743 Ballard Ave NW
Ballard
206-706-3379
thebarnaclebar.com $$

Barnacle  Bar Food 

At Boat Street Cafe, the Walrus and the Carpenter, and the Whale Wins, Renee Erickson has showcased two distinct gifts: sourcing and presenting perfect seafood, and spinning a magical sense of place. Both are in full bloom at Barnacle, her skinny 20 seater with the copper counter, the Euro bar, and the chalkboard menu—heavy on the fishies. Don’t go expecting dinner—the place was conceived as the antipasti anteroom to Ballard’s ever-packed Walrus—but the genius of the joint is in the care it takes with mere tipples and nibbles: items like octopus terrine in rich Ligurian olive oil with lemon, or Italian bread with escabeche mussels and cilantro sauce. Seven or eight of these “snacks” happen nightly, for pairing with the cocktails, amari, proseccos, and other Italian drinkables. As for that patented Erickson atmo? The room is wrapped in white and indigo Moroccan tiles. Uh huh. 

                    Bistro Turkuaz
1114 34th Ave 
Madrona
206-324-3039
bistroturkuaz.com $$

bistro turkuaz  Mediterranean

Turkish-born restaurateur Ugur Oskay installed her sons to help in the kitchen and her elegant daughter to charm the patrons at the tables. The cozy -Madrona restaurant imparts a primer on Turkish cuisine, long underrepresented in this town. Within these red walls, decorated with art that might be in someone’s classy home, diners can choose dolmas heady with currants and herbs; panfried zucchini pancakes called mucver; or first-rate Mediterranean dips, from hummus to cacik (Turkish tzatziki) to baba ghanoush (order the Turkuaz Plate to get them all, along with triangles of warm pita). Select from an array of meat kebabs: zestily marinated, but on a recent visit, overgrilled. Given the otherwise fine performance of this neighborhood jewel, you won’t mind.

                    Black Bottle Gastro-Tavern
2600 First Ave
Belltown
206-441-1500
blackbottleseattle.com $$

black bottle gastro-tavern  
New American

It’s far too chic and teeming, its wine list and bar pours much too notable for food to make up this much of its soul. But Belltown’s sleek Black Bottle wine bar, with its bare wood and blond tables—not to say bare arms and blond beauties—has attracted a rabid following based on “blasted” broccoli and lemon curd ricotta cake, and a whole lot of intentional innovations in between. Flaky flatbreads might be speckled with prosciutto and bechamel or smoked chicken and sun-dried cherries; a meaty hank of hanger steak arrives in its potent juices alongside shredded daikon and shiso. These not-so-small plates, ranging from $5-ish to $12-ish, are culinary masterpieces for some, booze-soaking sustenance for others, and early breakfast (BB serves till 2am most nights) for the truly indefatigable

       Chan
86 Pine St
Pike Place Market
206-443-5443
chanseattle.com $$$

chan   Korean

As hidden as a cherished secret, this intimate room tucked into the belly of Pike Place Market (off the Inn at the Market courtyard) is a masterpiece of textured neutrals and twinkling candlelight. It’s as sleek a spot to squire a date as to school a novice in the art of bibimbap. Chefs all over town are discovering the fusion appeal of Korea’s ferocious cuisine, and this chef—on exuberant display in the display kitchen—produces such novelties as bulgogi sliders and kimchi fried rice with bacon and mozzarella (and fine gingery cocktails), side by side with the kalbi-braised short ribs and kimchi pork belly of the classic canon. Purists will be horrified—where is the fire in the banchan side dishes?—but everyone else will be grateful for the gentle introduction. 

Cicchetti
121 E Boston St
Eastlake
206-859-4155
serafinaseattle.com $$

cicchetti  Mediterran 

Nobody spins sexy ambience out of four walls and a kitchen like Susan Kaufman, whose Italian Serafina has played stage set now to two decades of pasta-twirling foreplay. She’s done it again, in a George Suyama–-designed building just across the leafy courtyard from Serafina’s back door. It’s called Cicchetti (chi-KET-tee), after the social style of small-plate dining in Venice. With the exception of
the showstopping Venetian chandelier commissioned for the entryway, Cicchetti plays modern, angular sophisticate to -Serafina’s older-world rusticity. And from upstairs, the sweep of the Seattle skyline will send a Manhattanesque shiver down the spine of any urbanite. Look for stunning cocktails and noshes reflecting the myriad Mediterranean influences the Moors hauled with them to Venice, from clams in fennel--saffron broth and -prosciutto-and-goat-cheese pizza to flatbread dips and crispy polenta cakes. Closed Mon. 

                  Damn the Weather 
116 First Ave S
Pioneer Square
206-946-1283
damntheweather.com$$

Nowhere has bar food progressed from Booze Ballast to Whole Point more auspiciously than in this diner’s watering hole, part of Pioneer Square’s ascent to gustatory destination. All dim and brick lined, the place unites brainy cocktails with sly small plates: maybe grilled peaches with celery leaf and fennel and a smear of blue cheese puree, maybe a duck hot dog with salsa verde, maybe a Caesar salad stunningly recast in sandwich form.

                    Golden Beetle
1744 NW Market St
Ballard
206-706-2977
golden-beetle.com $$$

golden beetle  
Middle Eastern / Meditteranean

Maria Hines’s second Seattle restaurant resembles her first, Tilth, only in its near-complete use of organic ingredients. Beyond that this sky-blue Ballard storefront lit with lanterns is a world unto itself: a fertile Eastern Mediterranean world, full of straight-up renditions of hummus and kibbeh meatballs and lamb tagines and the like. These cuisines are rare as rhinos in this town, so her classic touch with their unique spice palettes is welcome. But the real magic happens when Hines lets fly the playful, intelligent innovation that earned her the James Beard award, in satisfying riffs on dishes like halibut falafel with chermoula, spinach-stuffed phyllo “cigars” (delish with cocktails in the sceney bar), or velvety chunks of seared albacore over pilaf and the Turkish version of aioli, tarator

                    The Harvest Vine
2701 E Madison St
Madison Valley
206-320-9771
harvestvine.com $$$$

the harvest vine Spanish / Small Plate

The best tapas in Seattle come from behind the copper counter where Basque chefs assemble platitos of glistening octopus or veal tongue or smoked sturgeon, wedges of tortilla, crab-stuffed piquillo peppers, venison in pepper sauce, sumptuous garlic prawns, grilled sardines—and on and, hiccup, on. Good luck snagging a seat at that bar. With a party of eight or more, however, you can reserve the newer downstairs txoko, or “little corner,” with its Old World open-beam construction and stone walls. A big communal table, plentifully lubricated, is the best way to enjoy tapas anyway.
 

Image: Olivia Brent

Hommage

                    Hommage
198 Nickerson St
Queen Anne
206-283-2665
hommageseattle.com $$$

Hommage  French

Née the Book Bindery, Hommage is the more French, more noshes with wine, more youthfully hip new occupant of the classy room wedged between the Almquist Family Vintners and the meandering Ship Canal, in the office park wasteland across from Fremont. Off a slightly confusing menu of small plates and mains, you might score grandly—perhaps something like a seared sea scallop plate with two vivid sauces or a stylized potato salad update with leek oil gribiche and apples. Alas, inconsistency has bedeviled this kitchen, so you may not be so lucky. 

                    How to Cook a Wolf
2208 Queen Anne Ave N
Queen Anne
206-838-8090
ethanstowellrestaurants.com $$

how to cook a wolf  Italian

Ethan Stowell’s tiny neighborhood pocket on the top of Queen Anne imparts a sense of a glowing hearth with its barrel-vaulted ceiling and coppery light. The name honors M. F. K. Fisher’s 1942 paean to eating simply; a fitting benediction for a restaurant that celebrates small plates and uncomplicated pastas shimmering with earthy precision. Dishes like blush-perfect duck fanned across a plate with beets and mandarin oranges is about as wacky as Wolf’s kitchen gets; the rule tends to dishes more like a plate of orecchiette pasta with cauliflower, screaming with garlic and anchovies; or rolls of trofie pasta, intensely brightened with parsley-walnut pesto. 

                    Japonessa Sushi Cocina
1400 First Ave
Downtown
206-971-7979
japonessa.com $$

japonessa sushi cocina  Sushi

Why yes, those are jalapeños cradling your snow crab legs and eight-spiced tuna. Japonessa may be downtown’s sushi cocina, sexing up Japanese food with Latin inflections (think chili ponzu, think mango shiso glaze), but purists take heart: The chef is the seasoned Billy Beach—an alum of Umi and onetime Kushibar owner—and the sushi is consistently more substantive and solidly prepared than all the hot noise and scene might suggest. Creations like agedashi tofu and tempura fried brie, followed by a monstrous $18 Street Fighter II Roll, open the mind and the palate. And the pocketbook—though happy hour seems to roll straight on through the day here.

                  LloydMartin
1525 Queen Anne Ave N
Queen Anne 
206-420-7602
lloydmartinseattle.com $$ 

LloydMartin  New American

A classy romantic haunt with a cocktail bar vibe and an idiosyncratic culinary aesthetic makes it a kind of Quinn’s, the gastropub on Capitol Hill, for grownups. Not surprisingly the owner and chef—who named the place for his entrepreneurial grandfathers—used to chef at Quinn’s, hence the similar lineup of globally sophisticated fare done with finesse and consistency. Look for items like lush rillettes, housemade pastas (such as an exceptional rabbit ravioli over sweet-potato velouté and porcini), heady meats (foie gras over oxtail!), a fascination with game, and numster desserts that can only be described as insane. Servers are so knowledgeable and attentive it can be a little scary.

                 Lola
2000 Fourth Ave
Downtown
206-441-1430
tomdouglas.com $$$

One day the gonzo ingenuity of Tom Douglas will cook up an organic Japanese-Jordanian-fusion taco kitchen–slash–tapas bar. Until that day comes we have Lola, Douglas’s homage to his wife Jackie Cross’s Greek heritage, and his greatest departure so far, doing three-meal-a-day duty as the house restaurant for downtown’s Hotel Ändra. As ever, the food shimmers with vitality: dazzlers like minty feta and hot roasted red pepper spreads on grilled housemade pita; a salad of arugula, pickled peppers, local peaches, and Greek pastrami (cured, natch, in house); a caramelly goat tagine with shallots and dates; a grilled lamb burger complete with chickpea fries and tamarind ketchup—fusing global influences and impeccable Northwest ingredients with his signature offhand style. The coolly Mediterranean place bustles loudly. Some of the best breakfasts in Seattle happen here. 

                    Mamnoon
1508 Melrose Ave
Capitol Hill
206-906-9606
mamnoonrestaurant.com $$$

Mamnoon Middle Eastern

It may be hard to believe there’s a serious Middle Eastern kitchen behind the sleek surfaces and throbby technopop of this modern cosmopolitan spot across from Melrose Market. But Mamnoon, which means “thankful” in Arabic, has an old soul. Dishes from Syria and Lebanon are built around bread: man’oushe flatbread that’s topped like pizza with spices and cheeses and meats, lunchtime kulage sandwiches made of grilled pita, unforgettably rich yet featherweight khobz bi fliefleh known as olive oil bread that’s slathered with fiery hot pepper paste. Around all this pastry, the menu arises in elegant coherence, offering spreads like hummus and an astonishing muhammara, enough vegetables to excite the herbivores (try the wickedly crusty cauliflower florets served with tahini garlic sauce), and soups and salads and fish and meats. High end, consistent, nuanced, and genuinely exotic—there is nothing else quite like this in Seattle. A lunchtime takeout window turns it into underpriced street food. 

                    The Old Sage
1410 12th Ave
Capitol Hill
206-557-7430
theoldsageseattle.com $$$

the old sage Gastropub

This smoked-meats-and-whiskey bar from the prolific Brian McCracken and Dana Tough (Spur, Tavern Law, the Coterie Room) feels like a casual watering hole but traffics in haute cuisine—with each of its eight or so nightly meats smoked in wood, herbs, corn, bamboo, or other mediums. (When’s the last time you dined on lavender-smoked pork cheeks and $40 drams of single malt in a place blaring classic rock?) The food can be sumptuous: a gorgeously composed plate of roasted and raw gourds, where smoky roasted squash, curled cuke slices, and chunks of compressed watermelon come masterfully accented with mint leaves, dollops of yogurt, and Calabrian chili
 

Image: Olivia Brent

The Old Sage

           Pair
5501 30th Ave NE
Ravenna
206-526-7655
pairseattle.com $$

Two to three plates make a meal, your hosts advise, at this charming Continental country boite embracing the small-plate dernier cri. If you favor that method of eating, and if those plates happen to be sliced pork tenderloin with tomatillo and sweet onion, or seasonal lemony, minty green and yellow string beans, or Yukon Gold potato cauliflower gruyere gratin—well then, lucky you. Plates here will vary in execution, however—a defect that small-plate dining reveals in bold relief—so visit with an eye for past favorites or with one of Pair’s legions of well-heeled regulars. Closed Sun & Mon.

                Purple Cafe and Wine Bar 
1225 Fourth Ave at University St
Downtown
206-829-2280

430 106th Ave NE
Bellevue
425-502-6292

323 Park Place Center
Kirkland
425-828-3772

14459 Woodinville Redmond Rd
Woodinville
425-483-7129
thepurplecafe.com $$

There’s nothing else like it downtown: no other place casual enough for dropping in, festive enough for an occasion, visible enough to remain on the radar, and proffering a vast menu of populist comfort foods rigorously embellished by mayo and melted cheese. We’re talking pastas, sandwiches (a very nice breaded shrimp and pickled fennel number), salads, and pizza; evenings, there’s a grandma’s kitchen full of comforting mains. And wine, rivers of it, is offered in flights or 80-plus by-the-glass selections, with cheeses or with nosh trios you assemble yourself. Nothing rises above the culinarily predictable, but sitting in the soaring glass-skinned chamber centrally anchored by a massive tower of wine, amid the clattering urban jumble of shoppers and theatergoers and business folk at Fourth and University—you feel you’ve located the beating heart of downtown. The more rustic Woodinville original and the more suburban Kirkland and Bellevue branches cater to families and gambolers at a more relaxed pace.

                    Quinn's
1001 E Pike St
Capitol Hill
206-325-7711
quinnspubseattle.com $$

A simply terrific gastropub, located in the wood--raftered and brick-walled heart of Pike/Pine, and packed to those rafters from 3pm through to close, every night of the week. The food is leagues more sophisticated than you might expect from a beer hall—when’s the last time you had seared foie gras or steak tartare in a pub?—and gets better the higher up the pretension chain you go. (In other words, skip the burger; get something like a radicchio pork belly salad.) The beer list is long and inspired, and the space is slick, soaring to two levels, lined with windows, staffed by the Village People, and filled with that ineffable who-knows-what that draws a crowd and declares it a party.

                  RockCreek Seafood and Spirits
4300 Fremont Ave N
Fremont
206-557-7532
rockcreekseattle.com $$$

Chef Eric Donnelly built his casual raw-beamed fish house as a Montana fishing lodge smack in the heart of upper Fremont. And if the deep menu seems overambitious—a dozen each of small plates and large ones, and that’s just the seafood—Donnelly has navigated his share of long menus in corporate restaurants, with startling success. Here, his wild Mexican prawns over Anson Mills grits is a sure-handed and bright Napa Valley–style plate; his mad variety of finfish preparations, often topped with handfuls of leafy herbs, are exact and supremely satisfying. Affable service completes the picture. A perfect place to bring your out-of-town guests. Open late. 

113 Blanchard St
Belltown
206-728-6706
spurseattle.com $$$

A decidedly elegant feel dominates within the gun-metal, grommet-bolted walls and towering ceiling of this shaft of a Belltown gastropub: a thinking drinker’s hideaway that’s as comfortable in its skin as anything in Belltown. Artisan cocktails (employing boutique liquors, topped with foams, even flamed for effect) and substantive noshes (as in butterfish over pea puree with morels or pork belly sliders with mustard and smoked orange marmalade) land somewhere between studiously impressive and extraordinary.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
4743 Ballard Ave NW
Ballard
206-395-9227
thewalrusbar.com $$

The walrus and the carpenter 
Small Plate          

And now from the idiosyncratic French sensibilities of Boat Street Cafe owner Renee Erickson comes a Ballard nosh bar par excellence. Settle into the whitewashed and window-paned rusticity (dig the bonelike chandelier) and nibble around in Nicoise salads, her trademark cheese and jam plates, or fresh oysters with champagne -mignonette-, the house specialty. Or cobble together a few heartier dishes—smoked trout with lentils, perhaps, or breathtaking steak tartare with egg yolk and toast—and call it dinner. Thoughtfully selected Euro wines and a list of Frenchy cocktails lubricate richly. From its position on the backside of Ballard Avenue’s Staple and Fancy Mercantile (the two share a windowed wall) the Walrus is at once at the center of everything and away from it all; on the back patio you can smell the tide turning.