Achievement unlocked. So what's next?

(Spoiler: I buried the lede at the end. There's two potentially tasty options coming to our building.)

Now I'm uber hungry.

I won't be back in the office until December 5, so today marks the successful end of this quest. I've visited 45 restaurants in three months, and I've still got quite a list of places to try (including Radici, Nirmal's, Café Poloma, Il Corvo, MOD Pizza, and Seven Star Pepper). I also plan to try delivery services like Uber Eats, Peach, Amazon Now, and others more frequently than that one time I got a breakfast burrito.

Early on, I thought that it might be challenging to find places, but there's so much out there, and you readers have been helpful with suggestions, lunch invitations, and kind words. Thanks.

So what's next? I'll continue to update with new posts when I go somewhere new and comments to existing articles when I return. Expect a slower pace, though; if nothing's new, I won't add something just to say so.

To answer some occasional questions on my experience: the worst part about this project (other than the three pounds I've gained) was the inability to go back to places I really enjoyed and to foods on their menu I missed. I want to get a cheesesteak from Tat's. I want gnocchi from Salumi. I'm still craving the fish and chips from Nosh, if I can convince myself to skip the rabbit. Pioneer Square Market might be my default when I'm in a hurry and want something cheap and basic. And I'm told that I missed out by not getting the biscuits and gravy from Biscuit Bitch.

There's also foods that were so good I want them again. I'm looking at you, dolsot bibimbap from Tofully; you, slice of pizza from Pizza Professionals; and you, bag of Dick's at the Capitol Hill light rail stop.

I might also give some sub-par places another chance: Box House's hamburgers probably don't always taste freezer burned, Bakeman's sandwiches are probably good if I'm not worrying about how to pay for it, and Von's 1000 Spirits probably does better than their tragically gloppy chicken adobo sandwich.

On top of all that, Urban Visions' CEO and Founder Gregory Smith is partnering to open Cherry Street Public House in the northwest corner of our building in January, and he's listed as the registered agent for the mysterious Todos Santos Restaurant listed on the liquor application in the southwest corner (also listed: Elysian Brewery founder Joe Bisacca). I'm definitely going to be spending time in both of those places next year. Can I lower down a growler on a rope and pulley, Greg?

Stay tuned.

From the Liquor and Cannabis Board's
"Statewide new license applications (for past 30 days)"

November 23: Rain Shadow Meats

[Last day in business: May 18, 2018]

"Rain Shadow Meats is really close to our new building." -- multiple people in our old corporate headquarters, a year ago.

"Have you tried Rain Shadow Meats yet?" -- multiple people, the last three months.

"We had Rain Shadow Meats for lunch. It's so good!" -- more co-workers, last week.

In an effort to save the best for last, yes, I tried Rain Shadow Meats today. It's only two blocks down Occidental, and is primarily a butcher shop, with restaurant counter-service appearing slightly secondary.

It's a typical late November day in Seattle, 48°, overcast, a little windy, and threatening showers, so I'm drawn to the hot sandwiches on their menu. Steak? French dip? Chorizo? They all sound good, but I decide on the porchetta, described as "slow roasted pork loin and belly, crispy pork skin, sauce verte, French bread." The cashier subtly corrects my horrendous pronunciation: it's "por-ketta" not "porch-etta." Derp.

The menu cautions that there may be a 10-minute wait, but I'm in and out in five, and bring it back to the office where I'm scrambling to finish a pile of work before the holiday weekend and an out-of-state trip. I grab a cup of coffee on the way past the kitchenette.

Unwrapping the sandwich, I'm surprised how, well, green it is. Very verte. Parsley, olive oil, garlic -- and maybe lemon juice and chives? --  combine to visually shout its presence. The bread is a crusty baguette-style, which does an outstanding job of absorbing the green sauce yet isolating it from the outer layer, preventing it from dissolving the bread. As I chow down on one end of the sandwich, chunks of pork are plummeting off of the other end onto the wrap. More to eat later.

The pork is great: solid but tender, mildly flavorful, and not at all greasy. It's just a tiny bit on the dry side, but the sauce verte covers up that minor flaw successfully. Chalkboards on site mentioned that they source their pork from Tails & Trotters in Ephrata, probably just down the road from Quincy's fields of data centers. The pigs are finished on a 60-90 day diet of hazelnuts, which allegedly adds flavor and increases the healthy fats. It might just be done for the prosciutto pigs, but I know it tasted darn good. I grabbed a fork from the kitchenette to get the leftovers off the wrap.

And with that, my three-month lunch project is complete. What's next? Slower updates, repeats, and a little hyper-local restaurant news. Details in my next post.

Rain Shadow Meats
404 Occidental Ave. S (joke about 404: not found)
Porchetta sandwich, $14.25

November 21: Planet Java Diner

I gotta confess -- I've eaten at Planet Java once before. Coincidentally, it was exactly one year ago yesterday, before I was due at meeting several blocks north of here. My breakfast that morning was good, but I hadn't tried them for lunch, and really, it was well before this project, so I don't really consider it a repeat.

With two lunches left until I can start repeating (business travel and telework will take up the rest), I wanted to pick some of the spots I'd been saving: Il Corvo (hmm; tuna noodle didn't sound good today), Rain Shadow Meats² (saving for Wednesday), or Radici (yeah, just not feeling pasta today).

Feeling wishy-washy, I remembered Planet Java. It's a 50s-style diner, and I figured a burger and fries were what I really wanted today.

A short walk from the office, up three steps, and I'm in the diner. I pick a booth seat, and the waitress is quick with a menu and to take my drink order. Season 1 episode 1 of Barnaby Jones is playing on the TV; he's roughing up some guy in an elevator.

Back at the old HQ building, my go-to lunch was a tuna melt, fries with seasoning salt, and a diet Pepsi. The Planet Java menu listed several burgers, but seeing the tuna melt on their menu, I went all wishy-washy again and for old times sake, ordered it.

Barnaby Jones is in the darkroom, talking bullet striations between commercials for treadmills and asbestos lawyers.

Unlike the grill in the old office, it did not arrive with mushy bread and cold tuna inside. Instead, the sourdough was lightly grilled, crispy, and not dissolving. The tuna was flecked with bits of celery, and some had oozed out the sides, slightly charred by the grill -- just the way I like it. The mayonnaise mixed with the tuna was just a little too pungent; maybe just a little too much mustard, but certainly edible.

The steak fries, much to my surprise, were dusted with seasoning salt, just like back at the old HQ. This is a big plus in my book.

Barnaby is intercepting the money drop, revealing that there were multiple killers.

The waitress was friendly, quick to refill my drink and with the iPad checkout. I finish up as the credits start to roll.

Planet Java Diner
72 S. Washington St.
Tuna melt, fries, diet Coke, $15.46.

(Note: My original post said I'd eaten at Planet Java just a few minutes after I shot video of our yet-to-be constructed HQ in August 2014. I corrected it when I found my receipt, but I'm leaving this link here for posterity.)

November 18: Shawn O'Donnell's American Grill and Irish Pub

At around 12:30 this afternoon, a co-worker asked me, "where are you going for lunch today?" Crap -- I've lost track of time, and have no idea where I'm going. I'd considered MOD Pizza at Two Union Square, but didn't want to take the time to slog through the transit tunnel. Food trucks? Asian food (Bomba Fusion) and French dip sandwiches (Wet Buns) are my options, and those don't sound right today. Maybe today's the day I try Il Corvo? Nope -- today's specialty contains Brussels sprouts.

It occurred to me, though, that Shawn O'Donnell's was on the way there, in the base of the Smith Tower. Their lunch specials board always intrigued me when I walked by, making me think I should stop in one of these days. Why not today? Besides, they've got a bacon cheeseburger listed, and that sounds really good.

The place feels about a third full when I arrive, busy for a sit-down lunch spot around here. It's spacious and feels just like you'd expect an Irish pub in Seattle to feel: lots of wood, signs on every surface advertising whiskeys, Guinness, and the Sounders,  The bartender is also my waiter, and welcomes me to sit anywhere I'd like. I grab a table near the door, which was subjected to a blast of cold November wind every time someone left, but that was my fault.

I look longingly at the whiskey list, and at the bar, and their happy hour specials later in the day. This really feels like the kind of place I could make my neighborhood bar, moreso than Good Bar or Fuel or McCoy's Firehouse. It might be my new favorite in the area. Upscale, but not pretentious. Loud, but not noisy. Wide variety. Friendly service.

But darn my company's alcohol rules!

He brings me an iced tea, and despite my initial desire for the cheeseburger, the two-piece fish and chips sound better for some reason. Perhaps I was still thinking about the good looking fish that was coming out of the Nosh truck on Wednesday. I'm expecting Sysco's finest mass-produced cod filets, and there's nothing in the lunch special section of the menu to suggest otherwise, but I order it anyway.

After just a few minutes of watching Leverkusen come back to tie Leipzig in a football match (spoiler: Leipzig came back to win after I left), the bartender delivers the basket of fish and chips. The fish looks good, and somewhat mis-shapen for mass-produced cod. I squeezed the lemon wedge over the filets and bite into one, slightly scalding my tongue. It's really good. Despite my mistaken thought that it may be mass-produced Sysco fish (spoiler: it's not), but it was tasty.

(Back at the office, I looked at their full menu. "We start with fresh snow-white cod, then cut it, lightly bread it, and fry it up all right in the building. Served with fries and our house made tartar." That's why it was so good.)

I dig into the fries, and they're good, too. No complaints.

The bartender is quick to clear my basket when I'm done, offering extra fries if I wanted them (I declined). He delivers the check quickly, I sign it, and I'm out of there with plenty of lunch hour time left. It was an excellent experience all around.

Shawn O'Donnell's American Grill and Irish Pub
Smith Tower, 508 2nd Ave.
Fish and chips, iced tea, $15.14

November 17: Samurai Noodle (U-District)

I met up with a friend in the U District for lunch today, so my discussion below about Samurai Noodle is in relation to their location on The Ave. They've also got a location in the International District, and I've got no reason to think they're any different.

Also, our conversation was so engaging that I forgot to take a photo of my food. Here's the menu photo. It's true to life.

But let's back up. Yesterday, when trying to figure out where to meet up for lunch, I remembered news from a year or so ago that two ramen restaurants had opened in Las Vegas, and last week that one of them had closed. The concept of a ramen restaurant intrigued me, and I discovered Samurai Noodle in my Google search of Seattle restaurants.

Today, I asked Google how best to get to The Ave, and it suggested a 31 minute transit ride, with transfers, or a 14 minute Uber ride. I used Uber Pool for the first time, and for the cost of $5.75 and a two-block detour to pick someone else up at Century Link, it got me there, 10 minutes before the "estimated latest" time it expected.

While waiting for my friend to arrive, I ordered a cup of genmaicha tea. Boiling hot with a single tea bag, I was unable to even pick up the cup for several minutes. The waitress explained that it's made with green tea and roasted brown rice, which is exactly the flavor profile that came through.

My friend and I both ordered the mushroom ramen. It arrived quickly, and hit the spot. Very much like a phở, the broth was mild and earthy, and the ramen noodles were more like a heavy vermicelli, nothing like the styrofoam bricks of Top Ramen I chowed on when I was younger. There were two or three varieties of mushrooms in the bowl, although I don't remember what they were. Too much conversation; not enough blog preparation. Sorry.

I took Uber Pool back to the office. It took six minutes for my driver to arrive; there was already a passenger in the back seat. We dropped her off at Westlake Center, and I got dropped off back at the office. $4.78. bringing the round trip fare to $10.53.

Signs also say that they deliver through Uber Eats, Amazon Fresh, and Yelp's Eat 24. However, their International District location is only a 9-minute walk away from the office, in Uwajimaya Village. Good stuff. I plan to eat there in December.

Samurai Noodle
4138 University Way (but also at 606 5th Ave S)
Mushroom ramen and tea, $14.22 (plus $10.53 to get there and back via Uber)

November 16: Nosh

In a rush today, still catching up on projects. The Occidental Food Truck schedule said that Delfino's (tried it), El Cabrito (tried it), Chicken Over Rice (doesn't sound good), and Nosh were in the square. Co-workers mentioned in the past that the fish and chips was really good, so I planned to get it.

Then I saw they served rabbit, and decided to send my lunch off the rails. Never mind that I've never had rabbit before. I heard it tastes like chicken. The guy behind me in line told his friend it tastes like chicken. It looks like chicken. Chicken sounds OK today.

My order, with fries and a mint raspberry Arnold Palmer, came up quickly, despite the line of a dozen people ordering. I brought it back inside the office to my workbench to eat.

I gently bit into the end of the thick slab of breaded meat, not knowing what to expect. There's a bone, just like chicken. The buttermilk breading is thin but adhered well, not overly spiced. The meat looks like chicken, but really, tastes more like dark meat turkey. It's tender, and doesn't stick to the bone as firmly as a chicken drumstick would. It's quite greasy, a four-napkin meal. Granted, the menu describes it as an "olive oil confit," but until I just checked Wikipedia, I didn't know that it meant it was slow cooked in oil. Fair enough. I learned something today.

The fries are salted a little heavily, but that's fine. The drink is strong on the sweet, light on the mint.

I avoided eating the cabbage/apple blend, because, I mean, really, that stuff's rabbit food.

Nosh
Truck on Occidental Square
Rabbit, fries, Arnold Palmer, $14.25

November 15: Pioneer Square Market and Deli

[Closed: May 31, 2018]

After 2½ months of writing this blog, I'd managed to only gain three pounds. Then, this last weekend, I took a five-day trip to a wedding in Houston, and gained four more. I had so much Mexican food -- from Taco Cabana to Torchy's to Mamacita's, I think that was just four pounds of tortilla. Plus fancy food from Maggiano's and not-so-fancy food from Denny's and IHOP. That nearly did me in.

So, yeah, it's good to be back. This morning, I think to myself that I need to eat something healthy. Probably gonna go to Sprout today.

Then reality hits, and I've got a week's worth of work to catch up on. I need something quick, close, and I just don't feel like salad.

The Pioneer Square Market and Deli in on my daily path to and from the train. I've been saving it for a day like today, when I'm in a hurry and don't feel like food trucking. From the outside, it looks like it might be a somewhat grungy bodega with a kitchen attached. Inside, however, the single aisle of snacks and drinks seems like an afterthought. Fresh wooden floors and airy bright space remind me -- in a good way -- of the new Bartells a few blocks up the street.

There's nobody in line and just a few people sitting at the tables. I order the chicken strips and fries, and the friendly guy behind the counter reminds me that a can of soda is included and points me to the cooler. I grab a seat, and a few minutes later, they call out "number 29". In a nice bit of customer service, they already have the tray to my table before I'm even able to leave my chair.

The chicken strips at first are a little disappointing. They're small, malformed, and just don't look right. I'm expecting them to look like the ones you get from a gas station case or, if I'm lucky, at Red Robin or The Ram. These look more like some chicken/funnel cake mutation.

Eating them, though, they're quite good. Unlike the normal breading, they use a tempura batter. Strange, but tasty. There's a tiny bit too much moisture in the chicken, so the breading slipped off of one piece as I was eating it, but it was still tasty. The fries are thick-cut and cooked perfectly.

A dipping cup of ranch sauce is included. I probably could have asked for ketchup or tartar sauce, but didn't bother -- I was in a hurry to get back to work, and did: 25 minutes desk-to-desk.

The menu is extensive. The prices are cheap. If you're looking for good food for very little money, the Pioneer Square Market and Deli is the place for you. But healthy? Maybe I'll do healthy tomorrow.

Pioneer Square Market and Deli
322 2nd Avenue S.
Chicken strips, fries, can of diet Dr. Pepper, $7.66

Here's another list

I'm out until next Tuesday, but to give you something to look at in the meantime: from a co-worker's friend just across the street at HTC Creative Labs: Pioneer Square Yum!, a list of around 50 lunch options in the area, most with a brief description and comments.

November 8: BOKA Restaurant + Bar [CLOSED]

[Closed July 2017]

Red or blue, red or blue? I'm pondering this question on election day, and about to decide to have lunch at Purple, when a co-worker stops by my desk. "I'm going to BOKA. Want to come along? They're a little expensive, but they've got great truffle fries." You don't have to ask me twice.

It's a brief eight block walk, and we're seated immediately in the upscale place in Hotel 1000. They asked if we had reservations, but just so they could clear it out of their system if we did. CNN's on the TV behind the bar -- only an hour until election night! (At 4 PM EST? Right...) We're served water quickly, and I ask for an iced tea.

The waiter takes our orders: I'll have the BOKA burger, medium well, and truffle fries. My co-worker gets the fish and chips (also truffled). The food arrives quickly.

The server brings the plates, but he's not sure who gets what. "Which one's truffled?" The waiter's quickly behind him. "They both are." We dig in.

My co-worker says the fish is pretty good, but there's only three small pieces of it. His fries are lightly truffled, and he says they're also good.

I hesitate to toss ketchup onto my burger, but decide that a little bit shouldn't overpower it, and add a knifeful. My first bite is hot enough that I need to wash it down with a gulp of iced tea. I think I might have burned my tongue a little bit. It's more on the "well" side of medium well, but that's fine. But with the glistening white cheddar on top, I definitely did not expect it to be so dry. Another bite, another swig of iced tea. Repeat. I don't know if it was a lean cut of beef, or whether they flipped it too often, or if they pressed the fats out (this is my best guess), but when I popped the last bite in my mouth, my co-worker asked me a question, and it literally took me 15 seconds to chew, swallow, and swig to be able to speak.

Flavor-wise, it was unremarkable. Maybe it was my burned tongue, but the ketchup was mild, the cheese was invisible (intastable?) and the beef was, well, just not that beefy.

"Hey look, your fries are different than mine," I point out to my co-worker. His are thicker-cut skin-on fries. Mine are peeled shoestring. He asks me, "Have you ever had truffle fries before? Do you like them?" I have, at a restaurant in Vegas a few years ago. These fries, I tell him, are very, very, very lightly truffled, where I can barely taste it. I note the lack of oil on my the fries' liner, especially in comparison to his. I still scarf them down.

Later, on our way back to the office, I pull out my receipt. There's no $2 upcharge for the truffled fries. I was fooled -- there was no truffle oil on my fries. Doh! I point out that because he got them and I didn't, there was a mixup: a truffle shuffle.

*groan*

Thanks. I'll be out all week. Don't forget to tip your waitstaff. Back next Tuesday.

Boka
1000 First Ave. S.
Boka burger, fries, iced tea, $29.71 

November 7: El Camión

For lunch today, I decided against writing about the history of the Trump family in Seattle (spoiler: grandpa Frederich Drumpf obtained citizenship here and had a restaurant next to Fuel) and decided to go more upbeat. Monday Night Football is in five hours. Let's wander down Occidental and see what's to eat. Go Hawks.

Hmmm. Hot dog stand. Sausage stand. Hot dog stand. Past the Homeland Security trailer and the Weapons of Mass Destruction Civil Support Team 10 truck. Hey, there's a taco truck! Or, in my bad Spanish, El Camión de tacos!  #EveryCorner

I ordered the Plato Mexicano, described on the menu as chicken, tortillas, rice, beans, pico, grilled jalapeno, avocado, and lime. It took just a little longer to make than I expected, but the woman working the counter kept track of it (and me) and let me know it was still being worked on. After not too-long of a time, she handed me my food container and a Coke and pointed to the building behind the truck: "everything you need is in there." I headed that direction, but she called me back, realizing she'd forgotten to hand me my tortillas.

Into the space in back, it's cavernous, with the feeling of peeling paint, bare floors, in too much unfinished space. There's a few tables, a few booths, and a condiment table. There's only two other people in here, and it feels like eating alone. I'm sure as game time approaches, this place will fill up shoulder-to-shoulder. But on a regular drizzly non-game afternoon, I'd guess they don't even open the space.

I set my food down, grab a fork and napkins from the condiment table, and open the container. Steam wafts out, and it looks pretty good. I have a bite of the rice (mushy) and beans (good, with a little Mexican cheese sprinkled on top), and then go to wash it down with a swig of Coke. Oops.

There's no bottle opener on the condiment table, so I leave my food unattended and head back to the truck. The woman at the counter points me to the bottle opener below the window, and I head back to my food. I get back up to get a plastic knife, and then sit down for the final time to begin sawing through the chicken. Parts of it are almost the consistency of jerky. It's very dry and somewhat flavorless.

I open up the tortillas and peel the top one away. It sticks to the one below it and tears. It's still intact enough to make a bean-and-rice taco out of. It's also a little dry.

There's not much more to report. Saw off more chicken, make two more tacos, and be grateful I got a drink with it. It might be that they expected me to add sauces from the condiment table, which might have helped with the rice, but it wouldn't have made the chicken any less dry. Unless it was tiny and smothered in guacamole, the grilled jalapeno promised by the menu was nowhere to be seen.

All in all, however, it wasn't a terrible meal. Service was friendly, and the food filled me up quickly. If it's the only taco truck around, it's fine. But when there's a taco truck on every corner, walk a block to the next camión.

El Camión
1021 Occidental Ave. (permanent location)
Chicken, beans, rice, tortillas, Coke, $14.25

Blog note

Teleworking today, so lunch is merely a cold slice of leftover Papa John's pizza from Halloween. I probably should have heated it up. I probably should have eaten it sooner. It wasn't very good any more.

I'll be back Monday (November 7) and election day (November 8), and then I'm off for a week to Houston (well, League City, TBH), back November 16. Apparently next week's hotel is just a few blocks away from Jimmy Changa's, a four-store chain and according to TripAdvisor, one of the best TexMex places in the area. It's on my list.

November 3: Tofully

When I was preparing for my trip to Las Vegas last month, I'd made plans to meet up with Korean friends from San Antonio and Las Cruces for dinner at California Noodle House for Asian food. It didn't work out, mostly due to too much Vegas beforehand, so I missed out on my opportunity to try bibimbap for the first time. Regardless, my San Antonio friend declared me an honorary Asian for the trip, but it still left me wanting.

Last month, a co-worker invited me to lunch with his team, but I had to back out in order to attend another co-worker's birthday lunch. We postponed for two weeks, but today I met up with his three person crew, not knowing where we were headed. "Tofully," he said, as if I'd know what that meant. I mean, it has "tofu" in its name, so that's a strike against it, but I'm game.

Like most places around here I've been to, it's small: ten tables, 34 seats, and a cash register in back. We're welcomed in, and stand tightly packed for a few minutes as one of the tables clears out.

It turns out that it's Korean food, and they have hot stone beef bibimbap (Wikipedia calls this dolsot bibimbap). One of the other team members recommends I try it, and politely walks me through it. It's not spicy at all, but it's the only meal I've ever had where the literal temperature of the food gets hotter as I eat.

Hot stone bibimbap

You know those hot fajita skillets that come out of the kitchen, sizzling? And how by the end of the meal, they're cool enough for the fat drippings to start congealing? The stone bowls they use here aren't like that. The bowls are heated to around 500°, and then piles of onions, beef, carrots, sprouts, cucumbers,and rice are added, with a fried egg placed on top. The bowl didn't seem to lose any of its temperature, and continued to heat the food as the meal went on.

My first bite, part of the egg white, was actually a little cold; pretty unappealing. I then had a bite of the sprouts, which was a mixture of cold and warm, where it had rested against the side of the bowl.  "You should mix it up," suggested my knowledgeable co-worker. I didn't want to, though, preferring to eat each flavor individually. "If you don't, the rice will start sticking to the bowl." I spun it with my chopsticks (I made my DEX roll!) and it wasn't sticking... yet.

I chowed down into each pile, and finally was left with the cucumbers (I'll pass) and scraps of everything else, which I then use a spoon to scoop out. The rice had indeed started to crispen up into tasty, crunchy pads. I scarf those down.

Wow. That's pretty good. I'm full. Writing this, it's more than an hour later, and I'm already craving it again, despite burning my tongue.

(The others order hot stone bulgogi and tofu soups, which they each say were also pretty good.)

Tofully
502 S. King Street
Beef Hot-Stone Bi Bim Bap, tea, $14.01

A tofu soup

A different tofu soup

Hot stone bulgogi bibimbap

Accompaniments (front to back):
Radish, sweet potato, cabbage, sprouts,
mashed potato, sriracha

November 2: Asia Ginger Teriyaki #5

Way, way back on August 10, before we moved into our new building, two busloads of Weyerhaeuser employees went to a Mariners game. Before the game, I and several others walked to our new building, past the front of it, and around the back corner into the alley between our building and Asia Ginger Teriyaki. Behind this teriyaki place, as one would normally expect in an urban environment, were dumpsters, a guy on his smoke break, and -- to the screaming, running, flailing terror of one of my co-workers -- a rat, minding his own business. Poor little guy. Another co-worker filmed him.

Since then, I've thought of this as "the teriyaki place with the rat." Yeah, it didn't sound appealing. Sure, they survived their most recent health department inspection with an "unsatisfactory" rating, but really, there's a lot of other options. That's why I hadn't been here, despite my love for teriyaki chicken, it's proximity to the office, and my knowledge that most alleys of most restaurants probably have even more rats than just this little guy.

Then again, some of the places I've eaten at had even worse scores (shout out to Pho Fuchia!), so when a co-worker who was aware of the rat video suggested we go there for lunch (his third time there!), I threw caution to the wind. Three of us wandered in, ordered chicken variants (regular, spicy, and katsu), and crossed our fingers.

The space is big compared to most of the restaurants I've been to.  There's probably room for 40+ people to squeeze into the seats here. It was also pretty busy; maybe 25 or so of the seats were taken. The staff were quick to take our orders, quick to bring out the food, and quick to clear our dishes.

The spicy chicken teriyaki and the katsu chicken teriyaki were both pretty good, according to my co-workers. I had the regular, and it was also pretty good. Self-serve miso soup started the meal, but I think I dropped a few too many green onion bits into it. The salad was fresh and overflowed the plate. The two scoops of white rice were exactly what they should be -- soft, a little sticky, but not mushy. The chicken was grilled and julienned to the perfect size. Often at teriyaki joints, the chicken isn't cut clear through to the end, so you end up with multiple slices still stuck together at the end, which is a pain with a plastic fork or chopsticks. Here, they were nearly all cut cleanly, and the metal fork provided took care of the one time it wasn't. Chopsticks are available, but displaying my low dexterity would have been too entertaining for my tablemates.

Sauces and spices crowd the ends of each table. Teriyaki sauce, spicy teriyaki sauce, sesame seeds, sriracha sauce, salt, pepper, and some other mystery sauces are available. My biggest complaint, and it's a minor thing, is that the teriyaki sauce was a little watery. That's fine, in that it allows it to permeate the rice, but it puddles on the plate. A little thicker would stick to the chicken a little better.

Overall, it was pretty good. For the price, it was really good. If you accept that much of the bad that I know about this place is probably true for most restaurants, it's even better. I'd go again.

(A third co-worker went shortly after we left and got a take-out order of yakisoba and egg rolls. He also said they were good.)

Asia Ginger Teriyaki #5
209 2nd Avenue S.
Chicken teriyaki, miso soup, Diet Coke, $10.67

November 1: Chuck's Hole in the Wall BBQ

I'm out of my element. I'm not conversant in the ways of barbecue, but I've seen BBQ wars online like you wouldn't believe. Chicken on fire off a shoulder of pork. I've seen sauce glitter in the dark near the fair's Green Gate. All those moments are lost to me, like cornbread in the rain. Time to eat.

Lunch today was at Chuck's Hole in the Wall BBQ. I hadn't decided whether to eat there or at its Smith Tower neighbor, Shawn O'Donnell's Pub, but as good as the bacon cheeseburger sounded, BBQ edged it out today.

The space isn't as small as reviews led me to believe, but seating is somewhat limited to a rail around the windows. Arriving just after noon, there was nobody in line, which wasn't a great sign. However, their other neighbor, the highly recommended Il Corvo, had very little line, too, and it usually has a line half a block long. Guess the light drizzle was too much for some folks.

I ordered the Hole Pile: cornbread under baked beans under pulled pork, drizzled with BBQ sauce. "Spicy or regular?" the guy behind the counter asked. "Regular." I'm feeling kind of bland today.

Much faster than I expected, it's brought out to me. Somewhere under that pile of glistening pork are beans and cornbread, but they're hidden pretty well. Is it a Carolina sauce? A Kansas City sauce? A Texas sauce? I've got no idea what those even mean. Their web site says that it's coffee-based, so maybe it's Seattle-style.

(Yeah, it's clear I don't know what I'm talking about here. But you're choosing to keep reading, so it's all on you.)

The first bite of pork and sauce gives a gentle smokey flavor, somewhat faint, somewhat bland, but pretty much what I expected. I'd never have guessed "coffee." Digging deeper, the cornbread is maintaining its structural integrity despite the layers above. It gives way softly under my plastic fork, and tastes, well, like a decent cornbread. Again, I'm not conversant in barbecue or its trimmings, so really all I can say about it is that it complemented the other ingredients well, and wasn't quite as gritty as the 69¢ box of Jiffy corn muffins I make once in a while.

The beans were a blend of two kinds: the, umm... small light tan ones and darker kidney-type ones. They were good, but really seemed to just a bit of filler.

About halfway through my trough of pork, I would have expected to see some water from the beans or some grease from the pork or some other kind of puddle. I thought maybe the cornbread had absorbed it, but they say they do their best to remove the fats from the meats, so that's probably got a lot to do with it.

Overall, it was pretty good. It was one of the less expensive counter-service meals I've had on this adventure. When I'm craving BBQ, I'd head back there. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two.

Chuck's Hole in the Wall BBQ
215 James Street
Hole Pile (pork, beans, cornbread), can of Diet Coke, $13.43