As pre-vacation calamaties go, ours have been pretty mild. We’ve developed a reputation for odd incidents, so we were expecting something. Yesterday when I heard the sound of rain drops even though there were no clouds, I was convinced our house was flooding. Turns out I was wrong and there was no flood. Instead a mower blew a rock into our sliding glass patio door. The showering sound was the door shattering into a million pieces. Then my husband said those dreaded six words, “I think I’m getting poison ivy.” One of his eyes is almost swelled shut, causing him to delcare that he looks like Vincent from that ’80’s Linda Hamilton show, Beauty and the Beast. (Anyone besides us remember that? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?)
Thankfully he has two eyes. Likewise the door has two panes, so we ignored both problems and set off on our merry way. Since we’re driving most of the Pacific Coast Highway in two weeks–Seattle to San Diego and back again–we need to make the most of our time, to make hay while the sun shines. Unfortunately the sun never shines in Seattle, or so we’re told. So we made the most of rainy, 50 degree weather and saw some sights, even after eight hours of flying and a plane delay meant we spent the entire day traveling. The beauty of flying west, however, is that you gain daylight. Right now it’s almost midnight our time and still light here, making us feel like mental patients involved in some sensory deprivation experiment. Sleep? Who needs sleep? Not our four year old, that’s for sure.
But I digress, back to Seattle. The first stop for most people is the Pike Place Market, and we are no exception. Well, we’re a little bit of an exception. I staved off my morning coffee in favor of authentic Seattle coffee. I relied on other reviews to tell me which of the vast shops to visit in the Nirvana of coffee. (Nirvana, get it? Not a Kurt Cobain fan? Moving on.)
We visited Espresso Vivace Roasteria, just around the corner from the market. To me, it looked like any other Starbucks, but that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it. I ordered a white velvet (white chocolate mocha.) The espresso was properly dark and smooth, a true coffee lover’s dream. Random people I don’t know enjoying coffee.
I was enamored with this pattern, even though it wasn’t as fancy as some I’ve read about.
Our next stop was the Pike Place Market. If you only have a few hours in Seattle, as we do, then this is the place to go. The ambience is as good as the food. And if you can only eat one thing in Seattle, I recomend chowder from the Pike Place Chowder house. It’s as good as everyone says, and then some–smooth, creamy, sweet, with perfectly-sized vegetables and clams. Seriously delicious.
This is one of those foods I could eat every day and probably never not want more. Perfection in a paper cup.
As everyone knows, the highlight of the shop is the fish-thrower guys. (Pretty sure that’s the technical term for them.) They’re as delightfully charming as they can be, which sort of makes you feel bad for the other fish guys further back in the market. They don’t throw fish or chant snappy sayings. They simply stand in front of dead fish and look sad.
At last it was time for supper. My loving husband once again indulged my foodie tendencies and spent many moons traversing the same road over and over, looking for the restaurant. We finally realized we had passed it several times because obviously the way to attract customers is to make your sign as tiny as possible.
In case your magnifier isnt handy, that says “The Walrus and The Carpenter.” It’s an oyster bar. Do we like raw oysters? No idea, but that’s sort of the point of vacation–to try new things and have adventures. Now I can say that raw oysters taste like the ocean smells, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. They were salty, fresh, and juicy. And the mouth feel wasn’t as squishy and slimy as I thought it would be. Since we took our preschooler, we couldn’t simply order raw seafood. The menu wasn’t kid friendly, so we ordered some bread, cheese, and honey. It was a big hit with a little girl who usually borders on picky. I also ordered some fried oysters that were battered with corn meal and served with a cilantro aioli. I have fulfilled my foodie street cred for the vacation by eating fancy food and am now free to enjoy burgers and onion rings as many times as I want.
As a reward to the poor little girl who had by this time been awake for far too many hours and was forced to eat goat cheese for supper like Seattle’s version of Heidi, we topped off our meal with some gelato at this place:
I had the fig and caramel. (Sorry no picture–I stood in the street for far too long while my husband circled the block and became stuck in traffic.) My daughter had the strawberry sorbet which was nothing short of fabulous.
If you’re planning on visiting Seattle, here are a couple of handy hints: Seattle Airport is not near downtown. With traffic, it was a thirty plus minute drive to the market. However, there are a plethora of hotels near the airport, and that means good deals. I would prefer to pay less and drive than pay more and be downtown, but that’s me. Also, so far the traffic has been horrible so plan to add drive time to any event. Finally, remember that it’s cold here. Although it’s June and hot back home, here it was fifty degrees and rainy. (I’m not complaining; I enjoy the break from the heat. But come prepared in layers.)
Tomorrow is my husband’s turn to choose our activity, but as he was supposed to be planning, he fell asleep sitting up. I have high hopes for big adventure. Vanessa.