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 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.
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 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.
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 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 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 Pizza
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 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 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 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 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 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 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 Pizza
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 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 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 Steak
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 New European
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 Seafood
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 Southern
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 New American
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 Korean
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 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 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.