October 31: El Borracho

"Is it still raining?" My co-worker just came in after his lunch from Berliner Döner Kebab (see my September 28 review), and told me no, it had started to dry out. I felt up to a long trip to Mexico, so I fired up TripAdvisor and asked for the best Mexican places in Seattle. Yes, I know I had tacos off the truck on Friday. Shrug. If it had still been pouring, I'd have had some other food truck or maybe the Italian place behind our building. Today, a journey.

The site suggested that El Borracho ("the drunkard") at Pike Place is good and in my price range. And -- bonus! -- today is Halloween and El Borracho has a quasi-Día de Muertos theme going on (or maybe it's something else, and I'm culturally ignorant). Time for a walk! On the way, I decided that if it started to rain while I was there, I wasn't going to make the same mistake I did last Wednesday, and I'd take a Lyft back.

Despite hitting nearly every crosswalk red, it's still a rather quick 0.8 mile stroll. Once there, I grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered (sigh) an iced tea. Their $4 el cheapo margarita sure sounded promising/dangerous, but no, not during a work day. I ordered the pollo a la tinga burrito (shredded chicken), although I strongly considered the conejo a la tinga (shredded rabbit). I also eyed the pile of nachos the woman next to me was eating; later, she told the waitress that it was really good. 

The costumed barkeep asked how I'd like to customize by burrito: black beans, red rice, no sauce. It arrived fairly quickly, large and probably more than I should have eaten. Despite the menu describing the chicken as being in a tomato adobo sauce, there was very little tomato flavor to it. Instead, the first bite put forth a subdued heavenly earthiness, an outstanding blend of mild flavors with no spiciness at all. Visually, I expected the innards to ooze gently onto the plate, but it was unexpectedly dry enough to hold its contents but moist enough to not require gulps of iced tea after every bite.

About two-thirds of the way through, the subdued flavor shifted from being a pleasurable feature into being, well, just bland. I think I might have hit a patch of burrito heavy in rice. I suppose I should have stopped there, but I hadn't had any substantial meat since dinner Saturday, so I pushed forward. I'm so full. Despite the declining flavor through the burrito, it was still so good.

Still no rain, so I wandered back to work, stopping at Pike Place for some flowers, and hitting nearly every crosswalk green.

El Borracho

1521 1st Avenue

Chicken burrito, iced tea, $15.42

October 28: El Cabrito Oaxaca

No time for a big lunch today. Fortunately, there's taco trucks on every corner. This one, El Cabrito Oaxaca, was right outside the front door.

We're fortunate to live in an area with such outstanding Mexican food, a fact I didn't really appreciate until recently. Sure, I knew that the dinner I had at Don Paco in West Virginia several years ago was one of the worst highly-recommended meals I've had, but last April I had dinner at Pinches Tacos in Las Vegas, which also came highly recommended, and it was just OK. Two weeks ago, I had tacos at the most hyped taco stand in Vegas, Tacos El Gordo, and sure, they were good, but really, just as good as the tacos I get a few blocks from my house (Taquería El Antojo). El Cabrito Oaxaca was just as good.

If you've been to a taco truck, or if you've ever had street tacos, you know what to expect. That's exactly what this was. I ordered four chicken tacos, beans, and rice. The tacos were heavily cilantroed, which some folks like my daughter would absolutely hate, but she didn't get those genetics from me. Both the tacos and the beans had white shredded cheese on it, which I assume, given the truck's name, was Oaxaca cheese.

I brought my lunch inside, then up to the roof to overlook Seattle while I ate. It was exactly what I expected. Double corn tortilla, diced chicken, cheese, sour cream, cilantro, and a lime wedge. The beans and rice were packaged separately in a to-go box. I inhaled it all and sped back to my desk.

Tasty. And if we're going to insist on building a wall, would making one out of taco trucks be a bad idea? I think not.

El Cabrito Oaxaca
Truck on Occidental Square
Four chicken tacos, beans, rice, no drink, $9.86

October 27: The Faerie Queene/Pittsburgh Lunch and Superette

[Formerly Faerie Queene, renamed in February 2017, closed December 2017. See comments below this story]

The Faerie Queene has been on my list for several weeks now, but I wanted to save it to enjoy with a group. Two different co-workers recommended it to me, and rumor is that our CEO has been spotted there. Today nine of us in IT went out to lunch, and it fell to me to pick the spot.

The 1½-block walk from the office is a short one, and when we arrived ahead of the lunch rush, the staff was happy to push two of their handful of tables together for us. The Seattle Times says that it's named after an 1590s unfinished epic by Elizabethan poet Edmund Spenser. The decor is a bit quirky, with 1800s style paintings of birds who wouldn't look out of place in a Lewis Carroll story.

I'd looked at the menu online before we arrived, and although I'd heard great things about their seafood, I hadn't even come close to deciding. Once seated, the waitress took our drink orders quickly, and a co-worker suggested that the two of us order the picnic and seafood boards to share.

The seafood board is a winner, especially the smoked salmon. The fishy flavor I normally associate with salmon was very, very faint, and the smokiness revealed itself slowly. I had a second slice with cream cheese on a slice of baguette, and the result was heavenly.

The tuna salad was also outstanding. Sure, the tuna flavor was considerably more robust than the salmon, but the creaminess of the mixture was perfect, and the greens mixed with it added just the right texture.

The pickled onions on the seafood board were also very good. I thought they might have been pickled in some kind of wine vinegar; my co-worker thinks it may have been pickled with beets. I should have had more.

The chimichurri shrimp cocktail was a bit spicy. To be honest, I had to look up what "chimichurri" was (it's an Argentinian green sauce with garlic, parsley, oregano, pepper flakes, olive oil, and wine vinegar [ha! wine vinegar! I'm now more confident in the pickled onions!]). Although the shrimp was coated in the chimichurri, the cocktail sauce it was sitting in overpowered it. If this had been the only thing on the board, it would have been impressive, but in comparison to the rest, it fell a little short.

The picnic board had two cured meats, two cheeses, apple slices, and fig jam. The menu also listed "house pickles" and "candied nuts," but those were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the pickled cauliflower was the "house pickles"; I didn't try them. Of the cured meats, the salami was good; the slightly spicy coppa was a little better.

We split on the cheeses; I had the English cheddar while my co-worker ate the gorgonzola. The cheddar crumbled as I ate it ("good catch," said another co-worker, as I snagged a crumb out of the air before it tumbled into my lap), and although she expected it to be firmer, my co-worker only hesitated a moment before finishing off the gorgonzola. The apple slices weren't notable, other than they were effective palate cleansers when moving between the umami of the cheeses and the lightness of the seafood.

We both forgot about the fig jam until it was too late; we'd already finished off our baguettes. Next time, my co-worker pointed out, we should order an extra loaf.

Overall, it was really good. It was a bit on the pricey side, but worth it, and perhaps the healthiest lunch I've yet had on this journey.

The Faerie Queene
90 Yesler Way
Half of a seafood board, half of a picnic board, iced tea, $20.17.

October 26: Beecher's Handmade Cheese

I've been saving several nearby restaurants and food trucks for the days when it's drippy and rainy and drizzly and chilly and just plain Seattly. Today's weather is just that. Of course, because I'm known for failing to make the smart choice, I instead decide to head ¾ of a mile away and have lunch at Beecher's Handmade Cheese, at the Pike Place Market. Ranked #9 of 3000 Seattle restaurants on TripAdvisor, their mac & cheese and their grilled cheese sandwich sounded like it would hit the spot.

I headed over to 1st Avenue to begin my walk up, and was fortunate enough to catch the 62 bus, which was running a few minutes late. It didn't save me any time, but it kept me a little drier.

There's no line to speak of, and I order my lunch. The mac & cheese is ready immediately; the grilled cheese sandwich will take about five minutes. I grab a milk-can stool by the window overlooking the cheesemakers and open my mac & cheese. Tiny spots of cheese fall off as I remove the lid, and a little puff of steam wafts out. The penne pasta is coated in their blend of Flagship and jack cheese, and a very mild spiciness backs up the flavor. For a moment, I think I sense a little grittiness to the cheese, a sign that it was heated too fast or too hot, causing the proteins to clump up. It's just on the OK side of gritty, though, and I haven't eaten more than a handful of peanuts since lunch at Salumi yesterday (yes, it was that much food), so I devour it.

"Travis!" comes the call from the counter. I grab the warm wrapped grilled cheese sandwich and take it back to my stool. Unwrapping it, I'm a little surprised that the cheese is a milky white, but given Beecher's philosophy towards natural ingredients, it makes sense. The bread looks a little on the underdone side, but feels crisp to the touch.

I pull apart the halves, and strings of melty cheese bridge the gap. My first bite... tastes burned. I don't see anything on the bread that looks like it would give me the burned flavor (in fact, my first bite was the unbrowned tip at the bottom of this photo). My best guess is that it picked up something from the grill. Too bad.

I eat it anyway. The menu says it's made like the mac & cheese, with a blend of Flagship and jack. It's a very mild flavor. It doesn't have the near-grittiness that the mac & cheese had, but it's just kind of bland.

For a great grilled cheese, you want something with a tiny bit of zing to it: a sharp cheddar, a complex Gruyère, perhaps even American, or as Alton Brown suggests, adding a little Dijon mustard. This... was just a mild cheese between bread.

I walk all the way back to the office in the heavy drizzle. A few times, I think to myself that I really should have eaten somewhere closer. I also think back to the grilled Beecher's cheese sandwich that I had at Bacco in September. Now that blend of cheese made for a tasty sandwich.

Sure, Beecher's mac & cheese hit the spot, and despite the burned whatever-it-was on the sandwich, so did the grilled cheese. I think, though, that somewhere closer, drier, and a little more flavorful would have been a better choice today.

Beecher's Handmade Cheese
1600 Pike Place
Mac & cheese, grilled cheese sandwich, Boyland cane cola, $17.00

October 25: Salumi

Jointly owned by husband and wife Brian D'Amato and Gina Batali, Salumi was co-founded by Gina's parents, Admandino and Marilyn Batalli, in 1999. Marilyn still makes gnocchi every Tuesday.

...Well, every Tuesday outside of tourist season. And not today, when Gina's big brother Mario (The Chew, Iron Chef America) was here for a book signing. So no gnocchi for me. I saw the sign about the signing on the way into work from King Street Station, but didn't think it would leave me gnocchi-less.

I was warned that the line is typically out the door, but it was manageable. The restaurant is in a thin hallway-like space, with a 10-person communal table and a small 2-person table in the back. Open 11:30-3:30 on weekdays only (and takeout only on Mondays), you have to step back to leave a space for people leaving as you're on the way in. But when I did...

"Hey, you're that blogger, right?" Two fellow Weyerhaeuser employees recognized me on their way out. I shook hands, and confirmed that yeah, that's me. I hope the counter staff didn't hear that, though, because I'd like to believe that they provide the same amazing level of service to everyone here.

I asked about the gnocchi: sorry, next Tuesday. Instead, I ordered the porchetta, described on the readerboard as "slow roasted pork, studded with fennel seeds, carrots, and celery [in] Guiseppe 'pocket' bread. Cheese is not recommended - it's already rich!" (emphasis in original). The woman behind the counter asked if I wanted it for here or to go. I said "for here", and she eyed the communal table. "I think you'll get a seat; they look like they're just leaving." I had my doubts, but she pulled out a plate, sliced a pocket in the Guiseppe bread (similar to ciabatta; I assume it's from the SODO Macrina bakery), and slathered up the inside with what looked like an olive oil and basil spread. In goes roasted onions and green peppers. In goes a lot of pulled pork. I order a meatball on the side; its red sauce just faintly glistens from the pork fat pushing its way to the top. She slices the pocketed sandwich in half.

"Here you go," she says, handing the plate and a couple of napkins over the counter. Just as she predicted, the guys at the end of the table are standing up, and the busser is quickly clearing their spots. At the register, Armandino points out that there's still a few signed copies of Mario's Big American Cookbook for sale. I decline, add a can of Diet Coke to the order (only 50¢!), and grab a seat at the table. I grab a fork from the communal silverware tray and dig in to the meatball.

As I sat down, I wondered how I would be able to write a post if there were flaws in the meal. I mean, I'm just this random guy; far be it from me to tell the family of an Iron Chef how to prepare food. Fortunately, it's not a concern. The meatball is one of the best I've had. I briefly think that perhaps I should have ordered the meatball sandwich, and when I scrape up the final bite of it with my fork, I'm a little sad that it's gone. A little bigger than a golf ball, it had none of the bitterness that some over-seasoned meatballs have. Near perfection.

I then tuck into the first half of the sandwich. The pork is scaldingly hot, but worth the pain. It's simple, meaty, messy, and a little greasy. The bread holds back the grease well, although some has trickled to the outside. The busser hands me three more napkins, observing "The one you have isn't going to be enough." A few of the veggies sneak out, and in a testament to how good they are, I chase them down with my fork.

The second half goes slower; I'm getting full. I finish up, lean back, use the last of the napkins, and leave a few onion and pepper chunks on the plate. The busser sits down with me, impressed. "So how was it?" Outstanding, and quite filling. "Yeah, I've only had the porchetta once in all my time here. You had a meatball, too. That's a lot of food." I mention that I'm not going to need dinner tonight. "Your wife is going to hate that." It happens a lot :-)

Salumi
309 3rd Avenue S.
Porchetta sandwich, meatball, Diet Coke, $15.72

Vegas trip report (plug)

If you're enjoying what you're reading here, 1) what's wrong with you?, and 2) you might also like suffering through my latest Las Vegas trip report, on my other blog. You've been warned.

October 24: King Noodle

Did King Noodle get its name because it's in King County? Or because it's on King Street? Or because they purport to be the royal ruler of all things noodly? I still don't know, and as a pastafarian this concerns me more than it should, but it made for a cheap and tasty lunch.

Suggested to me by a co-worker who I believe to be the master of Asian foods, King Noodle is enthroned a short walk into the international district -- through the ID's ornamental gate and two blocks ahead. The dining room is clean and small, with about 10 stainless steel tables, hand-painted bluebird artwork, and a TV tuned to AAT's Chinese or Taiwanese news. As a solo diner, I'm directed to the last remaining table, a four-seater. A few minutes later, I'm asked if I mind sharing my table with two others. That's fine with me, and I do my best not to eavesdrop on their conversation about pedestrian traffic flow and transit signal coordination.

I'm handed a two-sided checklist. One side lists appetizers, drinks, pre-defined soups, and "rice stone pot." I'm intrigued by the stone pot options, but I'll do that next time. The other side is the soup or congee checklist: choose two veggies, one soup base, one noodle type, and two toppings. I choose soup: bean sprouts and mushrooms, chicken broth, won-ton noodles, chicken, and BBQ pork. I could have gone exotic, with beef balls or pumpkin or pork kidney, but no. Just no. I also ordered green tea, a mistake, because red tea was served for free, but at least I had another cup of tea to take back to work with me.

The soup arrived just as my table-mates were discussing issues with transit stops between coordinated signals. There's a lot of soup in there. I'm a clueless American, so I expected, you know, a wonton dumpling to be in the soup, but no, Wikipedia vaguely tells me that wonton noodles are the noodles served with a wonton dumpling. So now I know.

The pork was mild; the chicken, tender. A few chunks of chicken skin floated in the broth unobtrusively. The noodles were done well; unlike some phở I've had, the noodles didn't need to continue absorbing broth.

Chopsticks and a spoon are provided, and eating two-handed seems to be a necessity. I suspect that they've got forks available, but I muddled through with what I had.

For the price, yeah, it was pretty good. The rice stone pots sound very intriguing, and will be my choice next time.

King Noodle
615 S. King St.
Soup, tea: $13.28

October 21: Biscuit Bitch

"Thank you for your patience and kindness, and for not being a dick."

Umm... no problem.

Biscuit Bitch, as you can tell from its name, serves biscuits with an empowering "we're not putting up with your crap" attitude. Recommended to me by my cohorts in IT Security, it serves, well, biscuits.

Walking in, I'm greeted by the thump of their stereo. "🎶Cause The Boys In The Hood Are Always Hard / You Come Talkin That Trash, We'll Pull Ya Card ...🎶" Eazy-E, 1987. Nice choice.

I glance over the menu board ("trailer park to table") and decide on the Bitchwich: a biscuit sandwich with an egg (over hard), cheddar cheese, and Spam (bacon or sausage are alternate choices). To drink I ordered a Seattle Fog: Earl Grey tea, steamed milk, vanilla, and orange zest. "Anything else, love?" Nope. The barista started on my drink as I paid.

And then I waited. The drink was ready in just a few minutes, but the sandwich took a while. I perused the Seattle Weekly as I waited, made it about a third of the way through, when my name was called. I had gotten a little concerned that they'd misplaced my order, as some of the other customers after me had their orders already, but one guy who was before me had just gotten his order, and was complaining: why'd it take so long? Why'd you serve others before me? Rant rant rant, not caring that the cook explained that Spam took longer to cook. The irate customer stormed out with his food.

The cook handed me mine. "Thank you for your patience and kindness, and for not being a dick," he said firmly. I grinned, mumbled a "no problem" which I hope conveyed "what a jerk that guy was," and went back to my table overlooking 3rd Avenue. The drink was pleasant, a citrusy floral creaminess that really, I should have expected. The heaviness of the Earl Grey tea was overpowered by the milk, which worked in the drink's favor.

"🎶Now my name is M.C.A., I've got a license to kill / I think you know what time it is, it's time to get ill.🎶" Beastie Boys circa 1986. Awesome.

The sandwich was pretty good as well. The biscuit was buttery and crumbly but the cheddar really prevented it from crumbling apart. The egg and spam were unremarkable, which is a good thing. I mean, how are you going to do something to the Spam that won't make it something completely different?

So yeah, the meal was pretty good, and at a decent price point. The attitude was somewhat inspiring. The music was loud and ... wait. Is that?

"🎶Kris Kross will make ya jump, jump.🎶" 1992.

Yes, I was entertained.

Biscuit Bitch
621 3rd Ave
Bitchwich and Seattle Fog, $10.03

October 20: Damn the Weather

Full disclosure: my entree was comped due to a delay in service. Details below.

I'm back from Vegas, and slightly embarrassed to admit that I didn't eat at any of the fancy places there, like I do when I'm not travelling solo. Really, my worst habit with solo travel is forgetting to eat. Normally, it's even worse, because when I'm in MiddleOfNowhereForest, AR, and it's 11 PM and I realize I last ate 24 hours earlier, I'm out of luck. But in Vegas, at least I have the option of food.

Damn the Weather

So, even though I was out for about a week, my Vegas meal list is short and my reviews are shorter, because c'mon, you really don't care much about that. You can't pop on down for lunch and be back to Pioneer Square in under 60 minutes. It's my blog, though, so I'm going to force you to skip past this list. Excluding bar bills:

• Aloha Specialties, California Casino: Spam, eggs and rice hit the spot
• Perch, Container Park: Chicken sandwich collapsed into a slimy tasty mess
• Tasti D Lite, Binions: Froyo or soft serve or something like that. Nothing special.
• Pizza Rock, Downtown Grand: Pepperoni slice still bubbling on my plate. Too hot to eat. Did so anyway. Ouch. Still worth it.



Spaghetti bolognese, cheesy grin

• Glutton, Downtown: Eggs, hash browns, toast... solidly done, great service
• Lanai Express, Fremont: I ate the 99¢ shrimp cocktail and survived. A meh burger and standard fries, too.
• Carnegie Deli, Mirage: The turkey sandwich was tasty and literally six inches tall.
• Secret Pizza, Cosmopolitan: As great pepperoni slice as always, and got a free white sauce slice from the couple next to me.
• Blondies, Planet Hollywood Miracle Mile Shops: $4.99 breakfast special. Added toast and a screwdriver and made it $17. But the bartender gave me a free mimosa to go, so there's that.
• Jean Phillipe Patisserie, Aria: Basil pesto chicken sandwich collapsed into a slimy tasty mess. But I came here for the key lime tart, which was amazing.

But now I'm back, and -- surprise! -- it's a co-worker's birthday lunch. She chose Damn the Weather, a fine choice for this drizzly northwest day. A couple of blocks away, it's small yet airy, with typical Pioneer Square brickwork and a long bar of which I cannot partake during work hours. Sigh.

Burger

I ordered the spaghetti bolognese. I almost opted for the quiche (but it had kale; ick) or the burger, but all things being equal, I wanted to see how they handled the menu item that seemed to be an outlier from the rest. The other eight people at the table received their food fairly quickly, along with two parfait glasses of french fries for the table. My spaghetti took about five minutes longer to arrive, but I just munched on fries while I waited. The fries were very well done. They offered a curry aoli mustard with it, which didn't have as much of a kick as I'd have expected, but which was very mildly bitter. A co-worker gave me quarter of her burger, which came equipped with gruyère cheese and portobello mushrooms, which made it taste a bit earthy, a little pungent, and, like the mustard sauce, mildly bitter. Five droplets of grease hit the table while I ate the burger; two more ended up in my hand. Seems like a good ratio for a burger, and the fattiness gave it a good mouth feel. Overall, it wasn't bad, but would have been better if I'd been prepared for the unusual flavor.

Reuben

The spaghetti, unlike the dish I had at Fuel, consisted of actual spaghetti noodles. They were just slightly overcooked, not enough to be mushy, but they'd been in the water just a little too long. The bolognese sauce was traditional, with tiny diced chunks of meat and blended in with the pasta. A noticeable sheen of grease glimmered off the stack and pooled along the edge. One co-worker thought it might be too greasy, but it seemed to me about what I would expect. It tasted great.

Word around the table is that their Reuben was also really good, and their Caesar salad sandwich elicited looks and "what the heck is that" when it arrived. And those fries -- everyone liked those fries.

When it came time for the damnage (I see what you did there, restaurateur), they'd knocked the $10 off my bill for being late on my food. For our group of nine, gratuity was automatically added.

Damn the Weather

Caesar salad sandiwch, with an egg in the bread

116 1st Avenue S
Spaghetti bolognese, iced tea, $16.14 (minus $10)

On vacation, so here's 17 suggestions

I'm flying out of here, leaving all y'all to face the storm without me, and a review of SeaTac airport food is out of scope. I'll be back next Thursday, but until then, here's an article that Eater published earlier this week: Navigating the Food of Pioneer Square, Seattle's Original Neighborhood. 

A few of the 17 places on that list weren't yet on my to-do list. Empanadas at Manu's Bodega? That sounds like a must-do. Why haven't you, dear readers, told me about that one yet? ;-)

Viva!

October 12: Il Terrazzo Carmine

Apologies in advance, but this is going to be light on details. I shared lunch with 10 others, and the conversation had my full attention. No food photos, 'cause it would have been awkward. Price estimated, as someone else picked up the tab.

A short walk from the office, Il Terrazzo Carmine is an upscale Italian joint with a high level of service: white-coated waitstaff, serve-from-the-left/clear-from-the-right, crumb scraping, the whole thing. It's far from the swankiest place I've eaten, but it's better than any of Federal Way's offerings.

I almost ordered the gnocchi, which a coworker described as "surprisingly fluffy", but instead settled on the fagioli e scarola soup and cannelloni napoletani. The soup was good, with firm but not chewy beans, pasta that wasn't mushy, and endive chunks small enough that they thankfully almost became transparent. The cannelloni was great; the ground veal was flecked with tiny bits of spinach, the ricotta was added with a light touch to not overpower the dish, and the tomato sauce was generous yet subtle.

This is an excellent choice for a business celebration -- a work anniversary, a congratulatory project completion meal, perhaps a birthday. As a routine lunch stop, it's a bit excessive.

Il Terrazzo Carmine
411 1st Ave. S.
Cup of soup, two cannelloni, iced tea, about $28

October 11: Fuel

Full disclosure: everyone, including me, paid for their meal with $20 gift cards we each received as "welcome to the neighborhood" gifts a few weeks ago.

That being said, skip the spaghetti. Get the chicken.

The Fuel sports bar is one of our new building's across-the-street neighbors, and I've walked past their "$8 daily special" sandwich board almost every day. I've always had some other destination in mind, or thought to myself that I should try more-distant places before the weather turns drippy. The Timberlands IT folks, though, convinced me to join them for lunch (it wasn't that tough!).

After navigating our way into the somewhat awkward entry space and considering seats near the bar or upstairs, we grabbed a couple of tables up on the stage, overlooking Washington Street. A few other folks were having lunch, but it was mostly empty. This place looks like it would be shoulder-to-shoulder madness on a game day; I gotta remember to stop back here then.

Drink service was quick, and our waitress let us know that the special of the day was spaghetti and meatballs. Sounds good to me. Three of us ordered it. It was, just a little, mildly disappointing.

To my untrained eye (sorry, great-grandpa Onofrio), the "spaghetti" was linguine. The tomato sauce was mild, almost flavorless, and the promise of sprinkled Italian seasoning on the rim of the plate didn't come through in the sauce. The garlic bread was toasted well, barely browned but crisp and buttery. The meatballs were merely OK, tasting like a good quality frozen meatball from Cash & Carry, but perhaps manufactured a little heavy on the parsley and breadcrumbs. Small pools of tomato water remained in our plates when we had finished. But honestly, for $8 at a sports bar, I didn't expect it to knock my socks off.

The fourth co-worker at our table ordered the Cougar Cheese Burger. She said it was pretty good, almost as good as Burger Express near where we used to work in Federal Way. At the second table, my co-workers had a French dip, a Cobb salad ("good"), Thai chicken skewers ("really good"), Jack Daniels chicken bites ("to die for"), and a plate of fries. They allowed me one of the chicken bites, and I concur -- these were really, really good. The breading is thick, and the sweetness of the Jack Daniels sauce perfectly blends with the breading and sesame seeds to become what might be Seattle's best finger food.

I also grabbed one of their crinkle-cut fries and dipped it in the Thai chicken's peanut sauce. Crisp on the outside yet fluffy on the inside, but not overdone -- nearly perfect.

Service was very attentive, and the manager made a special effort to stop by and welcome us personally to the neighborhood. The waitress handled the logistics of processing seven gift cards well, managing an error with the automatic large-party gratuity with grace.

Fuel does their bar food very, very well. Their spaghetti was a ground ball and a quick out, but the chicken bites knocked it out of the park. I'm looking forward to returning soon.

Fuel
164 S. Washington St.
Spaghetti and meatballs and a Diet Pepsi, comped, but normally $10.50 + tax and tip

October 10: 206 Burger Company

I've been craving a decent burger for a few days now, ever since my daughter got a shake from Herfy's. Nothing fancy; I didn't want to pay $13 for a burger, or eat in a place where having a fried egg on it was an option. But I also wanted something a step above Dick's or two steps above McBurger Jack. To the Googles!

... and I came up short.

The best rated burgers in town were more than $10. Some of the cheaper ones were at pubs that don't open for lunch. Some of them were in places like Georgetown or Interbay or on a corner of Capitol Hill that would be difficult to get to quickly on mass transit.

In the end, I simply asked Google to provide me search results for "burgers near me." The 206 Burger Company came up in the list a short walk away. That's where I went. On the way, I was tempted to stop at Shawn O'Donnell's American Grill and Irish Pub -- the sign on their Smith Tower sidewalk promises an $8 burger special -- but I'll save that for another day. Street view was vague on where it was, and once I arrived, I realized why. It's in a food court!

This just opened up several more options to me. A co-worker of mine suggested Thai to Go last week. That's here. The Happy Teriyaki near my house is gone, but there's one here. There's another Taco Del Mar. There's a phở place. And there's four other food options.

206 Burger Company is small. There's four seats at the window, and the rest of the seating is outdoors. If it's cold out, you better plan on either bundling up or bringing it back to the office. Service is quick at the counter, and the guy operating the register helpfully confirmed with me that burgers come with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, pickles, and sauce. The reminder to ask "no tomatoes" was a nice touch.

My number was called in just a few minutes, and I made my way to a plastic table outside. The fries were hand cut, but sliced unimpressively flat and floppy. They were lightly salted, if at all. The burger, on the other hand, was pretty good. A light trickle of grease dripped into the foil, but the layer of lettuce and the thin smear of sauce prevented it from dissolving the bun. The cheese was fully melted, oozing into the crevices of the hamburger. Plus: bacon. Who doesn't like bacon? Quite satisfying.

Really, the only downside was the food temperature disparity: The patty was warm, the veggies were cold, but the bun was room-temperature (which meant 55° today), which made for a slightly cold burger. The fries were also warm but not hot. Still, for $11 out the door, there's worse food decisions in the area to make.

206 Burger Company
Bacon cheeseburger, fries, fountain drink, $11.00
823 3rd Ave.

October 7: Hallava Falafel

"Here. Take this." The night before he climbs onto a plane for Buffalo, my brother hands me a bright golden punch card bearing the head of a ram and the cryptic words "HALLAVA FALAFEL SEATTLE" on it.

I eye it suspiciously. "Is this some kind of Satanic joint? An 'attend 10 sacrifices and your 11th is free' kind of place?"

"No, no, it's really good. They're up near where I used to work. You should go there. Order the shawarma." He then also recommends I go to a Philly Cheesesteak joint at the corner of MLK and Rainier Avenue, so I know he's hoping I get shanked so his share of the inheritance goes up.

"OK. Um. Thanks." I know falafel is some kind of Mediterranean food, though I couldn't distinguish it from a gyro or tell you what goes into it. "Shawarma" is as foreign to me as "soju", another ingestible I just learned about from a group of Koreans I'm meeting in Vegas soon (I'm sure that won't end badly for my liver at all). "Hallava Falafel" is the name of a food truck. Ah. OK.

Monday morning, I pull up their web site, and discover that their truck will be outside of my building that day. I've already got lunch plans, so I look ahead in the schedule. October 7? Calendared.

So "falafel." Wikipedia tells me it's patties of mashed chickpea. "Shawarma" is the meat on the spit that I've seen in some Greek or middle-eastern restaurants. I didn't know any of this before lunch today, and told my co-workers such.

"It's lamb," one of them responded. "You ever have lamb?" Well, once, when my same fratricidal brother made Lamburger Helper on a camping trip. It was unremarkable. My wife gets gyros frequently, and I assume that it's lamb on there, but I really never asked. "Let me know how you like it."

It was... still unremarkable. The shawarma sandwich has a blend of beef and lamb, and the flavors combine to be very beef-like overall. The meat is flat, tender strips, like cheesesteak beef before it's shredded, but less stringy. A pita contains the meat/cabbage/beet relish combo.

I took the foil-wrapped sandwich, a box of double-dropped fries (served with tzatziki sauce and hummus), and a bottle of Mexican Coke (?!) up to the 8th floor cafeteria to eat. I'm glad I chose there instead of the windy park, because I was fortunate to have extra paper towels, a fork, and a bottle opener available. It's messy.

It's a heavy dish, and not the kind of thing I'd eat regularly, but I can check it off my list. The flavors were mild, and unlike many sandwiches, there wasn't anything I chose to pick off of it. The fries were very good, and the tzatziki sauce served over it reminded me of a zesty poutine. The hummus, on the other hand, was not a great fry topping. I ate about half of it, but it was too heavy of an accompaniment to finish.

Overall, it seemed to be well prepared and flavorful, and just not my thing. My card's got another punch, though, and I'll keep it around, just in case I'm in the mood next year. I've eaten a little lamb, and I'm still alive, bro. But I still couldn't tell you what makes shawarma different than a gyro.

Hallava Falafel
Food truck on Occidental and a permanent trailer off the north end of Boeing Field
Shawarma sandwich, fries, Coke, $18.63

October 6: Bakeman's Restaurant

[Closing December 22, 2017]

"Check or cash, or keep your receipt and pay me tomorrow." That's what the owner and self-described "soup Nazi" of Bakeman's Restaurant said with a twinkle in his eye when I asked if they take plastic. And sadly, that's a deal breaker for me. I'm a cashless kind of guy. I can't reasonably pay him tomorrow (no duplicate lunches until December, right?), so I'm going to resort to having my bank's bill payment service send him a check. What a hassle. But let's back up.

In an e-mail two weeks ago, with the underlying tone of "I dare you," my manager asked "Do you take restaurant requests? If so, I've heard Bakeman's is good, but I would like to see a review before I try it."

It's just a few blocks away, housed in the basement of the Hoge Building, which was the tallest in Seattle until surpassed by the Smith Tower. I headed down the narrow marble stairs and into a cafeteria with the ambiance of jury duty. The line was long, but moved incredibly quickly. I think the drivers license office uses the same color scheme. The turkey sandwich is advertised on the sandwich board (ha!) outside and prominently on the white board inside. Grabbed a tray and ordered the turkey, a bowl of chili, and a can of diet Coke.

The folks behind the counter move at lightning speed. "Wheat or white bread? White meat or dark meat? Cranberry sauce? Lettuce, tomato, mayo? What kind of cheese?" By the time I was through the line, seats were scarce, but I was able to find a table to share with another solo diner, and perused a copy of the Seattle Weekly as I ate. I used to do that every week at Taco Del Mar, before they became so corporate.

The white board advertises their bread as "homemade", and perhaps the lack of industrial paste is why it began to dissolve when soaked with cranberry sauce. The shredded lettuce flopped out on the plate, but for the price, it falls heavily into the "acceptable" category.

The chili was also just acceptable -- out of one of Sysco's finest cans, I'm sure. But again, for the price, it'd be hard to beat. Also, worth noting: at 90¢, the can of Diet Coke is the cheapest I've seen downtown outside of Target.

Got cash? Want nothing more than an acceptable cheap lunch? Bakeman's should be on your list. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to figure out how to add it as a one-time online bill pay recipient.

Bakeman's Restaurant
122 Cherry St.
Turkey sandwich, bowl of chili, can of diet coke, $9.92

October 5: Thai Curry Simple (and Los Agaves)

Both the Timberlands IT crew and one of our lawyers, unknown to each other, went to Tat's Deli today. Although I was invited, doing so would violate my "no-duplicates until December" rule (see September 20), so I went looking elsewhere.

Another co-worker last week suggested Thai Curry Simple, describing it as a hole in the wall with quick service, limited selections, but authentic and delicious. She's dead on, four-for-four.

It's close, literally right across 5th Avenue from the International District station. I walked, but for particularly lazy co-workers, it's also just one streetcar stop away. My oblivious self also noticed, for the first time, a new Bartell Drugs store at the corner of 4th and Jackson. It's been open for a few months, but it still has that new store smell. I note that they do growler fills of Mac and Jacks for under $10, plus a rotating local selection (I spotted Seattle Cider) so that's something I'll be keeping an eye on.

So, Thai Curry Simple. It is indeed a small place, with around 24 seats. Selections are limited, with only seven things on the menu, with a few variations of each. I can't speak to the authenticity, because my Thai food experience was limited to Indochine in Tacoma and Federal Way, but the chicken pad thai was just as delicious at around half the price. Yelp lists 14 Thai restaurants near Pioneer Square; Thai Curry Simple is ranked number 1.

The pad thai consisted of well-cooked noodles, thin bite-sized chicken chunks, chopped peanuts, crunchy bean sprouts (I live dangerously), and a sauce that was remarkable for its lack of spiciness. They never asked the spiciness level, and I didn't offer. Ordering is at the counter, and they had it to my table in just a few minutes. Yeah, I'd go there again.

I didn't finish it all, not because it wasn't good, but because I'd already eaten a mammoth breakfast burrito this morning. I'd had a small meal last night, was slightly frustrated at a no-show early morning meeting at work, and was hungry at around 9 AM.

I've been eyeing the UberEats app on my phone for weeks, and after considering a walk to Top Pot donuts, or a walk to Starbucks, decided I felt lazy and entitled enough to have someone bring me a burrito. Tap, tap, tap, and my bacon/cheese/egg/onion/tomato burrito arrived at the office in about 30 minutes, still hot enough that the cheese was dangerous. Pretty good. UberEats tells me it's from Los Agaves, a Mexican street food joint in Pike Place Market. I ate it before I realized I should have taken a photo, but take my word for it: foil-wrapped cheesy goodness. A little messy, a lot gluttonous, but worth every cent.

Can an e-mail subject line be any happier?

Thai Curry Simple
406 5th Ave. S.
Chicken Pad Thai, can of diet Coke, $10.91

Los Agaves via UberEats
Breakfast Burrito, $10.66
(use my kickback code "eats-uberTravisL" for $10 off your first order)

October 3: Altstadt Bierhalle & Brathaus

I didn't write down which one of my co-workers suggested Altstadt Bierhalle & Brathaus to me a couple weeks ago, but you, sir or madam, are going to cause me to suffer the wrath of my wife once she sees this. She's of German heritage. It's a treat for her when we go to the German deli near our house. At Epcot, we always eat at the German restaurant. And in Vegas, she's always up for a trip to Hofbräuhaus. She's gonna kill me when I tell her how good this was. Everything we had was slightly surprising, in a good way.

It's a very short walk from the office, less than two blocks. A co-worker and I headed over just before noon, and were the only diners there. Like a good beer hall, there are two large communal tables in the center, but we sat at the dartboard table with a view of the kitchen. The table somehow managed to smell slightly of creosote yet not be offensive.

We both ordered the special: pork belly with dumplings, sauerkraut, and a creamy mustard sauce. But first, we started with a pretzel and cheese sauce. Our server explained how they lightly coat the pretzel with lye -- a very traditional method -- and then bake it twice to serve it fresh. It was initially almost too hot to touch, but once it cooled, it was chewy; solid, but not heavy. I preferred the cheese sauce; my co-worker like the mustard sauce better.

The pork belly arrived soon after. I was expecting something like a thick slab of bacon with doughy dumplings and a pungent kraut and sauce, and couldn't have been much more wrong. The pork belly was a 2½'' cube of tender meat, well cooked but not tough. It came with a knife, but most of the time, I could cut it with my fork. So good, and again, surprisingly not heavy.

At first, I thought the dumplings were discs of hash browns. Instead, I think they were potatoes that were mashed, formed, pressed, and baked. Despite the flat shape of them, they too weren't heavy.

And the sauerkraut? I told my co-worker that I don't like sauerkraut. She said it was good. I said no thanks. She said "it's good for you." I took a bite with the pork belly. It wasn't pungent. I wasn't tart. It was, for the most part, flavorless. I guess saying that it was tolerable, and that I had a second bite, is high praise.

We just drank room-temperature water, passing on the beer. I know, I know. I'm still waiting on the change of company policy to allow it. It would have been so good, too. I told myself that the water was Corona or Rainier or Coors, and I guess that made me feel a little better about it.

Apologies to my co-worker: I didn't realize she was picking up the tab, and got a look at the receipt before she took it.

German food, in my experience, has been a heavy, hearty, bulky meal. This was in no way a light dish, but the components were delicate, and an hour later, aren't sitting like a lump of protein and carbs in my gut. You should definitely put this one on your to-do list.

Altstad Bierhalle & Brathaus
209 1st Ave. S.
Pretzel ($6), cheese sauce ($3), and pork belly ($20), plus tax and tip

(PS: No post tomorrow; teleworking.)