The residential focus of Loyal Heights means family green areas like Salmon Bay and Baker Parks and a half-dozen learning institutions, including Seattle’s coolest, Ballard High School. But one blockbuster drive from 85th Street (where Mt. Rainier looms over the city like a giant ice cream cone) down the ever-active 15th Avenue Northwest, and Ballard’s long-lost neighborhood brother is found again.
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On Our Radar:
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Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Posted By:
Karen Watson
Photo:
Karen Watson
Lunchbox Laboratory
The menu is confusing and overwhelming. The tables are
covered in cringe-inducing, slightly crusty black velvet. The space is tiny and
smells like grease. The burgers are shockingly expensive. But they are also
world peace inducingly good. Like if Shimon Peres and Mahmoud Abbas sat down
over a Super Baby Beef Burger with maple bacon, caramelized onions, and Satan's
Habanero Ketchup they could reach an agreement. First you choose your meat from
a selection of Dork (a duck and pork burger), Lawrence Velk (venison and elk),
lamb, veggie falafel, or plain Jane cow. Now it's time to channel your inner
Beaker and play mad scientist. Experiment. Get crazy. Layer on the cheeses,
toppings, and sauces for a fifteen dollar burger you and your intestines won't
soon forget. Even the sides switch it up on you. Pick a potato--tot, sweet, or
shoestring--and then decide on a fry salt. Everyone chooses bacon, even the
vegetarians.
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Friday, January 16, 2009
Posted By:
Karen Watson
Photo:
Karen Watson
Wild Mountain Café
Oh, Wild Mountain Cafe, why did it take me so long to find
you? I drive by your lovely eggplant facade every day on my way to work but it
took a serious breakfast craving for me to stop. If I had known about the
stellar potato goodness you keep hidden inside I would have been calling in
late every day for the last year. Along with the delicious roasted garlic
potato cakes, you serve slices of homemade coffee cake bigger than my head. Not
that I can realistically eat all that sugar, but it's important to never give
up. Something called a Piggy Patty Pile (French toast layered with sausage and
fried eggs) makes me want to eat meat and gets me giggling over the name. Even
though you made me wait (not too long though), you kept me content with your
self-service coffee bar. I am already anticipating my next visit and this time
I plan on conquering a cinnamon roll. Although you don't like it, your cozy eating
spaces make me want to linger. But I suppose I could relinquish my seat and
share your culinary wonders with the masses.
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Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Posted By:
Karen Watson
Photo:
Karen Watson
Larsen's Danish Bakery
"Dude this kringle is amazing." This was the unanimous response among my friends at a recent Sunday brunch. We were all spraying buckshot crumbs of it while trying to talk and shove more buttery goodness into our mouths at the same time. Larsen's has been supplying the same breakfast treats to office break rooms and holiday brunches for over fifty years. Around Ballard this corner bakery is a multi-generational wonderland where grandparents take the little ones to enjoy the same Danish they ate as a kid. Even faraway Vikings can tame their cravings by ordering over the internet and having their kringle delivered to their door. The overwhelming cardamom aroma that greets you at Larsen's takes me back to baking day with my German grandmother. My world is definitely a better place because I have butter horns within walking distance.
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Thursday, May 01, 2008
Posted By:
Karen Watson
Photo:
Karen Watson
The Original Pancake House
Is anyone else in Seattle tired of the privilege of waiting 45 minutes to indulge in a ginormous helping of breakfast foods on a Sunday morning? I don’t care if it is free range, organic, vegan, or wheat grass infused. For fuck sake it’s breakfast: I want grease-tastic, carb-loaded, diner fare. The Original Pancake House is a godsend for an old-fashioned girl from Baltimore like me. Gingham curtains shade the windows, pine paneling casts a yellow blush across the room, and collector plates loom down from on high. Pancakes are obviously the showstoppers here, although they do have competition from the skillet-sized omelets. But these babies know how to work it with a fluff index of at least a quarter of an inch and fifteen options to choose from. Next Sunday morning, pull your disheveled self out of bed and head down for some medicine because nothing cures a hangover faster than a gut full of bacon pancakes. Now I’m a vegetarian, but back in the day I could eat the hell out of some pig pillowed in buttermilk batter. The best part is it won’t require endless waiting to receive your fix.
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Monday, April 28, 2008
Posted By:
Karen Watson
Photo:
Karen Watson
Goodwill
With the amount of time I spend here, I am beginning to worry I will one day be featured on an Oprah episode about hoarders. But the delight procured by discovering a dainty English tea cup or cashmere sweater is simply too pleasurable to resist. For people who love bargain shopping would call this Goodwill a hotspot for serious thrifting. Those people are wrong. Come for the furniture, the kitchen gadgets, the books! A well-seasoned cast iron pan, a foosball table, or a Turkish phrasebook can all be yours for the taking. The staff is a bit surly, the checkout line is normally hideously long, and good luck finding someone to let you into the dressing room. Well organized shelves, clean bathrooms, and good lighting make this store seem like Nordstrom compared to some of the other Goodwill locations around town. On the weekend, be prepared to fight for that rust orange shaggy wool sweater.
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Thursday, February 21, 2008
Posted By:
Jessica Baxter
Photo:
Jessica Baxter
Copper Gate
If you aren’t descended from the Vikings, it’s sometimes easy to forget that Ballard is the Little Scandinavia of Seattle. But the Copper Gate, with its unpronounceable menu and décor, is a potent reminder. The walls are adorned with paintings (some of them black light!) of Nordic beauties in the buff. The bar is a freaking Viking Ship, the sails of which are papered with a busy collage of the aforementioned nubile Norsewomen. Even the ladies room is decorated with naked ladies (along with an inspired diorama of Barbie Dolls). Sadly, I can only imagine what the men’s room looked like. My only design complaint is about the furniture. The walls and bar scream dive, but the tables and chairs are all Belltown. Once you order, the Belltown implications make a bit more sense. Beers, meats, and cream soups say “feeding the famished dock-workers,” but small portions and specialty cocktails say “Scandinavian Porn bar! How kitchy! How delightful!” The food is pretty good (Blomkalsuppe and Grill Ribbe hit the spot) and the walls are fun to look at. (Did I mention the bar is a ship?) I just wish the place were a little bit dirtier.
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