Making peace with Seattle, one restaurant at a time

Last week I hopped in the car and made my way to a metropolis that is instantly recognizable thanks to this landmark:


Note the blue sky. This was not contrived using the magic of Photoshop. It was actually sunny.

I lived in Seattle for four years. I moved away one and a half years ago to attend grad school in Chicago, and at the time I was dreadfully sick of the Space Needle and the city that spreads out beneath it. Seattle and I had developed something akin to an abusive relationship. Events of varying degrees of unpleasantness would transpire as I lived there, and I would vow to leave. Then the sun would come out and Mount Rainier would glow invitingly from the southeast. Or I’d spend the day snowboarding at Crystal Mountain and eat dinner at Shanghai Garden, and lapse into a state of blissful contentment. Seattle was sorry; he didn’t mean to do it. He didn’t want to hurt me. Look how sweet and scenic he could be.

Then something icky would happen again, and I’d fantasize about aiming my car onto I-90 East and heading straight back to Chicago. But maybe the hydrangeas were bursting into bloom. Boats in the Leschi harbor were clanking against each other and making that chiming noise that I love, and Lake Washington was shimmering prettily in the sunset, and I couldn’t imagine ever leaving. Finally I did.

During this visit, Seattle and I made our peace. I stayed with my friend Megan, who charitably indulged my every whim (most of them food-related) and took me on a whirlwind tour of my favorite places around the city. Here’s what we ate:


A gorgeous single shot latte from Caffe Vita in Queen Anne. This picture makes me want to cry.


A chocolate pot with a spoonful of whipped cream from B&O Espresso.



Fettuccine with meatballs from Cafe Lago in Montlake.



Strawberry, hazelnut and chocolate gelato from Gelatiamo.



Clam chowder with tabasco from Market Grill at Pike Place.

The action at Market Grill.



Pork and eggplant in garlic sauce and chicken with chili sauce at Shanghai Garden in the International District.



Megan with a cured meat platter and an oregano salami sandwich at Salumi. The mole salami (made with chocolate and chipotles!) and the cotto were especially amazing this time. And yes, the wine bottle really was that big, and no, Megan would not help me drink any of it because she had to go back to work.

And finally, we enjoyed a lovely dinner at Maekawa in the I-District with Megan, proprietress of the excellent blog I Heart Bacon, and her boyfriend Zach. The food was ...well, the conversation was better! It was great to compare notes with other culinary-obsessed folks. Here's a sampling of what we ate:


Octopus balls, pork and cheese croquette, kara-age, lotus root salad with fluttering bonito flakes and pork shabu-shabu.

I left the city with a glovebox full of Salumi salami (which I would later forget to remove, causing my car to reek of garlic) and a warm, fuzzy feeling. I was shocked to discover that I still knew Seattle more intimately than Chicago, or anywhere else I've ever lived. Even though it didn't turn out to be my own personal Dream City, I can still appreciate its merits; most especially my fabulous friends and the variety of excellent dining options.

This state of forgiveness and acceptance now leaves me free to fall in love with Portland, Seattle's underappreciated friend to the south. More on that later.