When I began this quest, I had no real concept of just how much work this would be. I had no idea how much each bar would start to look the same. I had no idea just how much I could come to resent each crappy place we are forced to visit.

I have had some really great moments and these moments have really made this quest worthwhile. I have gotten lots of great feedback. I am honored that so many of you take time out of your day to check in on our little quest.

Recently, as many of you have probably noticed, the spark has gone out. My updates are inconsistent and my reviews have become somewhat flat. I apology for this and plan to fix this in the final days of this quest. I can not speak for Jason, but for me, I want this to end on a high note, rather than in a desperate whimper.

I will post some more Journal entries and rants and generally try to get this thing back on track. After the quest ends, it is my plan to go back and re-add links and maybe some pictures to my entries.

I hope that those of you who are considering leaving will stay. I hope that some of our readers that we have lost will return. I hope that I can live up to the unspoken bargain that was made with our readers and give back what was lost.

If there is anything that you would like to see, please post it here and I will endeavor to make it so.

-wOOt

Recently, the topic of superpowers came up. Now I don’t mean things like flying or invisibility, but superpowers that would enhance your life and make it more interesting. For my friend Sandy, she wants a soundtrack for her life. That way there is always just the right music going on in the background to reflect what is going on. This way if she is walking down a dark alley and she hears the music change she can get the hell out. Or imagine she looks across the room and meets the eyes of a handsome stranger. Does the music swell indicating interest or stay flat because there is no mutual interest? Just imagine how much that would enhance your everyday life.

Next there is the desire for thought bubbles to appear over peoples heads. I think one was Glen or Sarah’s, but I’m not sure. This way you could see what they were thinking, but only in that comic book sorta way. You could always get great deals at the car dealership or know what you did wrong. It was mentioned that the ability to turn them on or off should be included.

I finally came up with a super power that I thought would be worthy. I thought of it while watching Real Genius. I want the power of musical montage. This is the ability to musical montage your way through anything difficult or boring and come out on the other side as if you had spent all of the real time doing it. Imagine how great traveling, studying, or working on dull projects would be. I could go to Law School in about a week , build a giant laser, or win an eating contest of epic proportions.

So what I want people to do is to list their superpowers for the common man here. What would you like to be able to do?

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

This very nice Italian restaurant is hidden in a small mall a couple of blocks from Pioneer Square. Its most interesting feature though has nothing to do with the restaurant itself. Outside in the lobby there are two old safes. They are open and the doors can be swung, shelves slid, and dials spun. They are really great. Just looking at the reinforced steel doors makes me understand why you need dynamite to crack a safe.

As for the restaurant, we sat in the small lounge ish area in the back. The thick white table clothes, heavy napkins, and nice glasses indicated that this was a high end place. Large oil paintings on the walls depicted various party scenes. A pair of paintings were of an old world Italian couple.

Our drinks were fine but priced at $6, I believe. The smell was pretty good here and the menu looked great. I don’t know if I would ever find myself back out here. It seems unlikely though. It definitely is not a drinking destination. Thanks to Wolf for the Sponsorship.

I give Il Terrazo Carmine 2 and a half dispassionate Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

This restaurant has been a pain in my ass since week 1. This may seem strange, but we spotted it when we went to Fado. We thought we didn’t have to drink here because we didn’t see the bar (which is through a separate door from the upstairs restaurant.) Then we tried to go here a couple of times but they kept just closing. The last time we tried to go here, there was some sort of homeless help event going on. The booze was all put away, there were serving dishes with single serving slices of cake, and there were people sorting and folding large piles of questionable clothing.

So now, we finally get a seat, waiter, and confirmation that they actually serve booze. Thank god. This restaurant is down a set of stairs and behind a set of strangely painted wooden double doors. There is a small bar area off to the side, but it was closed. They still had booze available, but not in the bar. The head chef (or owner, I’m not sure) was a very strange but entertaining Italian guy. He had wild white hair and a stereotypical accent. He moved a separating curtain to open up the restaurant and give it a more open feel.

The bread was decent, but the butter was too hard. The drink was fine, but once again it was nothing worth going back for. I might try the food here, but it was priced like a restaurant just off of Pioneer Square. Once again I give it an unenthusiastic 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5. Once again, thanks to Wolf for picking up the sponsorship.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

I had many misgivings about having to come here, especially because I really liked Lush Life. Before I continue, I will stand by statement that Lush Life is a much better name than Marjorie. I know that it is named for the owner’s mother, but sentimentality only goes so far. Now I have it on authority (by no means good or corroborated) that the owners of Marco’s Supper Club and Lush Life were a married couple. Well, they ain’t married no more and Marco got the Supper Club and the wife (I don’t know her name) got Lush Life. She gutted it, renamed it, and re-opened it fast enough that we have to drink here again.

We met my downstairs neighbors, Sven and Destiny here for drinks. Parking was a nightmare and it put our amazing sponsor Wolf in a bad mood. We got a table for 6 and ordered some drinks. The menu is a strange mix of recipies and styles. There is a strong East Indian element to the place which can be seen in the décor and in the bathrooms. The room is painted blue and lots of colored cushions are mounted on the walls. Indian statues and pictures are also scattered about the place.

The best feature though is in the bathroom. There are signs, featuring East Indian children who are teaching good manner. They tell children to be tidy and not to “ape” (make fun of others.) It is actually very funny.

The food was pretty good. There were a number of appetizers ordered but my favorite conversation was about the $7 grilled cheese. “When you use fresh bread, the best butter, and the best cheese, you get grilled cheese like none other.” Well la-de-da. Destiny said it was good, but not $7 good.

I liked Marjorie well enough but I still miss the Lush Life. Marjorie’s bar is small and this is now an eating establishment and not a drinking establishment. I give Marjorie 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

This Caribbean place is extremely new and we were lucked onto it by Destiny, since she parked in front of it. We had not heard of it, since it had not appeared on our lists yet. Before I get into the place itself, let me begin by saying that you should go here. Be nice to the bartenders and for god sakes, tip them well.

The whole restaurant is painted yellow and is decorated with Caribbean pictures, statues, and knickknacks. The bar itself is small and two round table sit off a bit from the bar. The restaurant is split leveled with seating upstairs and the bar is downstairs. The seats are high and look to be made of wicker. There was this one low chair that was only mildly comfortable, unless you use the pillow that goes it. Then the chair becomes incredibly comfortable. It was so good.

Behind the bar is probably one of the most beautiful bartenders in Seattle. Christina is not just a vision of black beauty. She also makes some of the best drinks in the city. Her cohort Frankie is also great looking (but is unfortunately not single) and she is funny. The drink menu here is excellent. The spiked hot chocolate was great, as was the Mohito and the Deep Blue Sea (or something like that.) I went back the next week with Sean and Wolf for their Grand Opening and had some amazing food.

We had a really good time here, but I had an unfortunate encounter with the bathroom doors. The restaurant shares a bathroom with the building and it is behind a security door that can not be permanently unlocked. I managed to get myself locked out of the restaurant with another girl. I had to leave the building and circle around in order to open the door for the girl. Jason was very confused since he didn’t see me leave the restaurant.

I highly recommend Casuelitas for both food and drinks. I command you to give them money now!!! I give Casuelitas 4 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Dive

Las Margarita’s only real distinction is that it is Seattle’s north most bar. If you cross the street, they you leave Seattle and enter some crappy place north of Seattle.

We sat in the back lounge with Clara and drank our really strong $2.50 drinks. It may not be much to look at, but if you are north, with $10 in your pocket and want to get drunk, then this is your best hope. They will even bring you chips and salsa.

I forget how the conversation got started, but I talked about how you can buy multi colored cigarettes. Sherman’s come in black or in a box of strong primary colors (Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green.) Jason’s comment was, “You wear your cigarettes more than Jewelry. They should match Darling.” It had such a strong Ab Fab feel to it, that it stuck in my memory.

Las Margaritas was unthrilling, but it fulfils its drinking purpose in life and thus warrants it 3 Martini Glasses out of 5. I mean really, if you are out in the middle of nowhere and need booze, does it really matter where you go?

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Dive

This large, clean, uninteresting bar held little sway for Clara and us. We were served weak crappy drinks, but at least they were only $2.50, thus making for one of the cheapest sponsorships available. wOOt to Clara for making the swoop.

Lots of Asian art hangs on the wall, which stands out in distinct contrast to the beer signage and hicks sitting at the bar. We hid in the back and played video trivia. We played it badly I might add. It is not that the questions are particularly hard, but they do drag up some weird categories and questions without an answer you should know. We had fun though and made this bar bearable.

I have no idea if the food is any good, but The Golden Gate adds itself to a growing list of bars not to come to in Northgate. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

This simply Ethiopian Restaurant looked like it was the local place to come to eat for the hippies. There was a large group of people in the back who looked like they were itching for a protest to join or a perhaps a place to play hackeysack after dinner. I didn’t catch the smell of Pechulie (sp?) but that doesn’t mean anything.

By the bar was a small dance floor and large screen TV. Lively music played in the background. Our drinks were served by a very Ethiopian woman. If this were the late 80s, I would have a series of jokes to tell, but I think they would be in bad taste now.

Once again, we were served our drinks as a glass of booze accompanied by a can of mixer. I think that this must be the style in Ethiopia. It makes sense, since I imagine there is not a lot of ice production over there. Rather you pour the booze and then you take a coke off of the shelf. Its not a bad way to go, but some ice would be nice.

I liked the place well enough, but with all of the Ethiopian places on the hill, I don’t need to travel that far north. I give Enat 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

If you are old, gay, like karaoke, and need a place to hang out, then this is your place. Walking up to the weathered black wood building I could feel vibrancy being sucked out of me. Tonight was a strange crew with Jason and myself, Clara, and Tara. Tara is a friend of Jason’s from way back and of mine for a couple of years. We had been at her most beautiful baby’s one year birthday party earlier in the afternoon. Now as a reward she was coming out with us (something she has wanted to do for months now.) Sierra, Tara’s child really is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. I can say this, because my new nephew is the most handsome baby I have ever seen.

Pulling open the worn outer door of the Crescent reveals a small dimly lit place that has the worn in feel of an old leather jacket that should be retired, but hasn’t. It is loved very much, but unless you love it, you can’t understand why others do.

The bar is small and littered with drinks and the makings for drinks. A youngish bartender is vaguely attentive, when he isn’t chatting with the regulars. Up on the little stage was a large older man by the name of “Mother” singing some sort of classic ballad. We squeeze in at a small side standing area. A waitress quickly comes over to tell us that there is room up in back by the large projection screen TV. The area up in back has worn carpet with dirt and grime ground into it. All of the furniture is seriously worn and of a general low quality.

Tara sponsored this round of cheap but strong $3 drink (plus a dollar for water.) As I was getting the drink I looked over the bartender’s shoulder and noticed that their computer was flashing gay pornography as a screen saver. Well, isn’t that special. I guess that is just par for the course.

Everyone here seemed to be having at least a passable time and for those people who are regulars then I wish them luck with their place. For me though, and likely for my dear readers, I recommend that you give this place a miss. I give the Crescent 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Occupying an ill-fated sight (once home to Aerospace, Paradise Garage, Arena, and others), Playland is a two part location. There's the restaurant area, where we were, and the dance/club space. I don't know anything about the latter, except you could hear thumping beats coming out the door (but not in the restaurant, the sound damping was good.)

So I'll talk about the part we were in. It's full of video games. I mean full of them. The tables are actually made up of sit down games (our was Missile Command), sometimes one and sometimes two. There are also stand up games along one wall and in the upstairs gaming gallery. The menu appears to consist of cheap and easy food, just enough to keep the liquor license. And the drinks come in plastic cups, even on the restuarant side.

There is a dog who apparently resides in the place, so if you don't like such animals, don't go. But otherwise, do. Because it was very fun to sit at a table, drinking a vodka tonic, while playing Missile Command. Or whatever it might be that they would have at your table. And getting cheap eats and noshing while you weren't playing would be even better, I think.

Most of the games are classic, but there's a few newer ones on the main floor, as well.

Anyway, it was great fun, and should be visited often.

We tried to hit several more bars after Playback, all with parking issues or not open. And then, as a last chance, we thought we'd try the Zig Zag. We'd driven by where it was supposed to be once, without finding it, but I thought it might be further back in the building, because I'd seen signs of a bar from the rear of said building.

So we parked, and looked for a way into the building the Cafe had to live in, and couldn't find it. But there are stairs down one side, leading from Western down to Alaskan Way, and it's along this staircase that the Zig Zag hides. So it's kind of hard to notice, but it's worth the trip.

There's a front bar area, with a couple tables along the wall opposite the bar, and then more tables and a large booth area in the back. I call it a booth area because there are actually five booths, one a bit smaller than the other four, which would serve for four or five groups, or which could all be occupied by one very large group if that's what they wanted to do. They're laid out in kind of a circular pattern, so that such a thing would be easily possible. They're also very new, so that, to my ass's taste, they're still a bit firm. But the back support is great.

We sat at the bar, topped with some form of stone (slate? I have no idea...) which looked really nice and felt pleasant. The bartender was immediately friendly (as he would be with pretty much everyone who came in) and after finding out what his rather new tattoo, in some South Asian language meant (something about evil coming back to you, and good doing the same), we started chatting about the quest.

We had our drinks by this time, quite decent examples of their kind, but now as we talked Ben, for that was his name, started to show us his extensive liquor lists. He had a great many varieties of a great many liquors, such that rather than the neatly ordered rows, all of the same type, that some bars had, his was a mass of different bottles, whose locations he seemed to know pretty well, but I'd pity a new bartender on his first couple of nights. Still, it was only because he had so much in the place that it was necessary. And he started to show us some of his wonders.

Several samples of rums followed, all rather good, and then a brandy made in old rum casks, very good, and then one of the house specialty drinks. It contains no grapefruit juice, and yet, due to artistry, tastes like a smooth sort of greyhound, with a lot more booze. Unfortunately, I don't like grapefruit, but I appreciate the skill. They also make a very good Bloody Mary. Very good indeed.

After all of this, Brandon was feeling on the edge, so I ended up drinking a third of his drink as well, ugh, hated whiskey.

Ben was totally friendly with everyone in the place, some of them he knew, and I think some of them he didn't. However, with us, there was a bit of a change. Once he knew we were there with the eventual intent of writing about the place, he became business friendly. Still very nice, but not quite as unaffected. I can understand it, but it was kind of weird. Totally understandable, again.

There were two great paintings in the main section of the eatery; the one nearest the booths was the better of them, and seems very appropriate to something I'm writing now. Good stuff.

Anyway, I really liked the place a lot, and I'm going to head back soon (only 48 days til this quest is complete). They've only been open under the current ownership for a couple of months, so they're probably still under most radars, but they're definitely worth checking out.

As has been noted in our woefully underused Forums section, we don't have a hottie bartenders section. This is a shameful oversite, but then, we don't hit places necessarily when the hotties are working. But probably some of you do, and we've definitely seen our share of beautiful people.

So, at this late date, I'm going to start asking for people to mention the hottie bartenders, including possibly where and or when they work. Don't know a name? Well, that's fine. Just mention a look.

I'll start off by mentioning, as I did a while ago, the gorgeous Andrew at Barbacoa up on Queen Anne. I know he works at least Friday and Saturday, and he's absolutely beautiful.

This'll have a thread in the Forums, too.

The name is most appropriate in this place. There's cherubs all over the place, a few of them hovering around the bar and a line of them in the air where the bar seperates from the dining area. There's stone replicas of fat baby wind faces, the kind you'd see on old maps. There's pretty much a little baby boy motif.

So the name's okay. The bar was pretty much the same. Okay, not great. It's at the back of the small restaurant, and the bartender seemed kind of surprised that we sat there. They must not get much bar traffic. The drinks were good, though, pretty strong and good sized. They were kind of spendy, but it was a style kind of place, and you pay for that.

The bartender was kind of chatty in a fly by sort of way. We drank and went.

We met up here the last night we went out with Star, but they didn't have their liquor yet, just beer. So we had to come back, and they were closed. So we had to come back, and they were open and had their license, and it was still about the saddest experience ever.

The Cha Bar used to be Avenue One, which was a very nice looking place with a friendly staff and decent drinks. Now, it's just the Cha Bar, but the bar remains the same, but with different lighting. The copper counter is still there, the shelves of booze on the back are the same shelves (with different, and less, booze) and the place is creepily like an animated corpse. I wanted to just close my eyes real tight and open them to discover the old bar was still in the same configuration, but it wasn't to be.

So the Cha Bar remains the worst replacement, which we thought might have been Marjorie replacing Lush Life, but as we discovered a couple days later, Marjorie is at least interesting in itself.

The Cha Bar was just sad.

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

I’ve heard rumor of the place that was built out of train cars, but their description never did it justice. I mean, how could it. The hey day of Andy’s Diner was almost 25 to 30 years ago, but you can visit it now and enjoy all of the great atmosphere, artwork, and noir of the Oriental Express. From the outside, Andy’s Diner looks … odd. It does look as though it was built in the shape of a train car, but it is not until you enter this establishment does the reality hit you. Eight train cars in total were used to create this place and most of the original interiors have been kept and only minorly modified.

Each car has its own character and the character working at the bar was Ruth. Probably in her late 40s or early 50s she is incredibly friendly and chatty. We explained the quest to her and she immediately started quizzing us. Turns out that she is friends with Trudy at the First Ave Bar and Grill as well as a number of other bartenders that we have run into. In addition she works at Tula’s on Sunday nights and invited us to come and visit her.

When we expressed interest in the restaurant she gave the full tour. Andy’s Diner has a number of rooms, each of which is its own car. There is the Executive car, the Parlor car, the Caboose Car, the Roundhouse Car, the Saloon Car, and, my personal favorite, President Roosevelt’s personal train car which is purported to be haunted. Ruth has not seen any sign of it, but she says that others have.

As Glen’s final sponsorship, we felt that Andy’s Diner would be an excellent choice as we loved it as well as Glen so very much.

Andy’s Diner does breakfast through dinner and you should come here. I have said this in the past, but you need to get in your car, drive down to South Seattle and give them some of your money. You will not regret it. I give Andy’s Diner 5 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Sports Bar
Class: Average

This large uninteresting sports bar probably fills a very specific need that I don’t have. It is a large and spacious area decorated with Budweiser frogs and various beer logos. There were two Budweiser frogs that were amusing. One was a giant inflatable frog clutching a beer bottle that was flaccid from lack of air and another that was smaller with a fully erect bottle of beer. If you were person who liked frogs, which one would you go home with?

A large sign behind the bar proclaimed a couple of very cheap special beers. I believe they had Lucky brand beer for something like 50 cents. They also had pitchers of PBR (or some such) for like $3. A price as cheap as the beer.

The most notable thing about the Siren was the 8 electronic darts machine as well as the huge stack of dart tournament trophies. These are people who like to play darts. Well good on them. Not my thing and I don’t need to come to South Seattle to drink Lucky brand beer and play darts. Well maybe I do, but that is only because you can’t get Lucky in the city. At least not anywhere I know of. Never a truer pun spoken.

I give the Siren 2 and a half Martini glasses out of 5. I am sure that it is good for what it is, but it is not what I like. The drinks were cheap and not bad, but it just is not my kind of place.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

When Jason, Bridgit, Heather, and I arrived we had to sit in the restaurant as their new bar area was not quite yet completed. It looked like a nice little space, but it was hard to tell without the finishing touches to give it character.

The restaurant portion has high exposed brick walls, an unfinished floor, and basic but interesting tables and chairs. The place has been recently redone so this must be the style that they are going for.

Knowing that this was a crepe place, Bridgit called dibs on it months ago. Now she was coming through on her pledge (Thanks Bridgit.) While we were deciding on food they brought us a carafe of water with slices of lemon. After ordering our Crepes they brought us strangely flavorless bread. Not even buttering the bread heavily helped. It was almost as if the bread absorbed the flavor that was already in you mouth like gum chewed for too long.

The crepes were excellent and the drinks would have been passable if they weren’t $6. I don’t know if their new bar will alter their drink prices any, but I sure hope that they do, or else there will be little reason to come over here, rather than to the Capital Club across the way. Maybe people would rather have the soft instrumentals being played here instead of the modern beats, but I doubt it. I give them 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

This restaurant is actually part of the Anthony’s Restaurant chain. It has the same food, but due to pricing rules of Fisherman’s Wharf their prices are much more reasonable. This makes it a prime candidate for locals in the know. Judging by how it was packed, it looks like a lot of people know about it.

We sat down in the backmost table of the bar area with a view of the boats coat in the black of night. Wisps of light reflected from the restaurant to briefly light up a small portion of this boat or that. I found it entrancing.

Chinook’s is built in an old warehouse or at least that is the feel it gives off. With a high roof, exposed ventilation and no interior walls there is a lot of space in here to fill. The walls are literally coated in pictures and seafaring artifacts. The wall next to our seats had about 40 or 50 different real life head shots of fisherman. The bar is a large enclosed square made of light pine and populated with older women whose husbands are elsewhere and young couples chatting lovingly.

Our drinks were $4 with a $5.50 call. Bridgit and I shared a mousse dessert and Jason had a cup of chowder. It just wasn’t as good as chowder at Duke’s. It is a nice enough place, but once again, it is not a drinking destination. I give them 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

After going to Chinook’s we tried to go to a place in Northgate that was supposed to be open late, but wasn’t when we got there. Having already tried to hit them once, Jason was pissed off. So in turn, he pissed on them. I thought he was kidding when he threatened to do it, but he wasn’t.

The stupidity did not end there though. On the way home, I called Bridgit to let her know that the place was closed and not to meet us there. At that point I proceeded to tell her that instead of going home, she should come to my house and we would “fuck like bunnies.” I believe I said this two or three times. Of course I am wrong for Bridgit in just about every way imaginable but who the hell cares now a days. She probably does, now that I think about.

Oh well.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Dive

Walking up to this corner restaurant off the beaten path in Crown Hill I knew immediately that this was either going to be a great find or a complete disaster. It turned out to be both.

The front dining area is small with about 8 booths made of old brown vinyl and peach stucco walls. We were looking for Bridgit and LeeAnn so we breezed past the bored hostess and went into the bar. We hooked up with our wayward peeps and ordered drinks. We all got drinks and Bridgit and I ordered food. I ordered mine to go since we were trying to get back to Jason’s house to meet up with some friends (which didn’t happen because of the food delay.)

So the $2.50 drinks arrived and then so did Bridgit’s food. The older bottle redhead waitress though decided to put my food order in when Bridgit’s came out, instead of asking me if I wanted it immediately, which I did.

I am not quite sure what I did here to spark this note, but I can not seem to stop seeming gay. I swear to god this is really starting to piss me off. I give off the biggest fucking gay vibe and I can’t just seem to shake it. Maybe I need to go to boot camp and have my personality stripped down, re-worked, and then given back to me. I wouldn’t fucking mind the gay vibe so much if I was getting women, but I’m not and I’m tired of it.

Anyhow, Tarasco was great because the drinks were so fucking cheap, but the food was not good and the fuck up pissed me off. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

This basic Ethiopian place is easily recognizable as the large green roofed building on 12th Ave by the university. The inside is a very strange mix of Ethiopian culture and Christian iconography. Jason told me later than most Ethiopians were Christian, which I find very odd. I guess this just proves though that if you let enough of these Christian Aid groups at a populace of starving people that eventually they will trade their souls for food. It sounds like a fishy proposition if you ask me.

Kokeb has been around since 1982 and it is probably Seattle’s first Ethiopian restaurant. We ordered food which was ok, but not great, and got an a-typical drink. The drink was regular for most places in Seattle, but a-typical for Ethiopian restaurants. Usually they give you a glass with booze, and can of mixer and no ice. These drinks were pre-mixed and had ice to boot. It is too bad that it took almost 15 minutes for the drinks to arrive.

Kokeb had two interesting features. First, there is a small sitting area back by the bar that was being used by a small contingent of old and older Ethiopian women. They were not chatting whenever I passed them, but that doesn’t mean much. The second was the bathroom. They had a window open in here and it was just freakin cold. I needed to bring my coat just to take a piss.

Kokeb was fine, but without a bar to sit at, it just does not meet by drinking requirements. Besides we would quickly find better Ethiopian places in this city. I give Kokeb 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

This bar is located in a large building with a number of model safes in the lobby area. There's a big wooden door with the name Il Terrazo over it, but there's no real way to see the restaurant. If you didn't know what it was, you wouldn't figure it out.

When we entered, I was immediately a bit uncertain. Wolf, Sean, Brandon and I were just dressed normally, and this place seemed kind of exclusive. Maybe it just the fact that it was so totally isolated, in this building behind an inconspicious door. Perhaps it was the fact that most of the crowd was older and well dressed. Maybe it was that when we entered the bar, the fossil seated at a bar stool turned and actually gave us a glare, as if he thought we were the latest barbarian invasion. Probably it was a combination of those factors. But I didn't feel like I was fitting in.

We ordered drinks and were brought water in wine glasses. The drinks came shortly thereafter, and Wolf's coffee came with a very nice service, the cream and sugar atop a napkin, beneath which Sweet & Low and Equal had been placed alternately, only the tips of the packets visible, on a plate that completmented their colors.

As we sipped, noticing the lovely paintings of women, turn of the century style, who would certainly eat their men alive, several other "normal" people arrived and took over much of the bar, and I felt more in place.

There was nothing terribly special about the drinks, although they had good flavor. They were on the spendy side, which is to be expected, as the place fancied itself a nice restaurant, and indeed looked very elegant inside.

Wolf picked up the sponsorship, closing briefly to within 3 of Glen, and we moved on.

We came here once before and it was closing, once after that and there was some sort of homeless Christmas party going on. Fortunately, they were actually open and serving, even though their bar wasn't open just when we were there, and they have a somewhat limited alcohol selection.

We were seating in a little curtained annex, and mere moments after we arrived the crowds started to appear, so that soon we were surrounded in said annex. The menu arrived being wheeled in, two white boards back to back and mounted on a wheeled easel showing the wine list on one side and the mune on the other. We just wanted a drink, so we ordered, at which point we discovered they had no whiskey products whatever, and Brandon had to change his drink.

The drinks when they arrived weren't great, but not awful either. They brought us water, brought us warm pita bread and thick hummus to just nosh on, and eventually a crazy old Itailan guy who we think was Luigi came through and tossed open the curtains to expose our annex to the main restaurant, telling us if we wanted to close it again, that was okay, but we should consult with the rest of the people in the little area we were in. But it was, he insisted, our choice. He was very loud, and very entertaining.

The place has a really eclectic look, with odd old bits of furniture, a bar that's not often in use, a barrel full of wine corks, a caricature of Luigi, a lot younger, on the wall, and weird bright paint.

It took us forever to flag down a waitress to get the check, and as were planning to meet two people from Brandon's building at the next bar, that started to get annoying. As it turned out, it wouldn't matter in the least, but we had no idea if that was the case.

Eventually, we got the bill, and eventually, we were able to pay. With the Grotto almost totally full now, we managed to stumble up the stairs to the surface and move on to the next bar.

Marjorie was once the Lush Life, a bar we really loved the look and feel of. Then there was a divorce, and Donna ended up with Lush Life. She closed it, remodelled it, and just reopened it a couple of weeks ago as Marjorie. We were all very sad, as we liked the previous incarnation and we think the new name is pretty stupid. Marjorie. Whatever. It's her mother's name, for those who are curious.

Anyway, we were going in ready to hate the place, is the essence of the above. And we were supposed to meet up there with Destiny and Sven, Brandon's downstairs neighbors. Parking, however, was attempting to foil all of this. There was none, not for ten minutes of looking. Wolf finally said Brandon and I should just get out and go to the bar to be sure they weren't just waiting forever. But when we entered Marjorie, now with the bar in the front rather than the rear as it had been at Lush Life, they weren't there. Nor were they seated in the restaurant. As we had no number for them, we didn't know what to do, exactly, but wait, so we did, outside while Brandon smoked.

Finally, Sven arrived. He related that Destiny was driving around looking for parking, and had dropped him off to make sure we weren't just taking off without them. We had a chuckle over how awful things were, and went to claim a table for the six of us.

This was a chore, as Marjorie isn't very large, and they already had a group of six, and another table set for like ten. So we were lucky to get a table, and happy we did, and then we had to wait for the others to arrive.

Meanwhile, I observed that in the bathroom there were posters from India about good and bad behavior for children, the funniest bit of which was "No Mocking" placed over a drawing of a boy hopping on one leg while following a one legged beggar. Okay, it's not really funny, per se, but it was hysterical to see.

Wolf and Sean arrived, Wolf pissed to have to have paid 10 bucks to park, and Brandon said he'd pick up his drink. A moment later Destiny made it in, having found a spot a few blocks away, and we were suddenly served.

We ordered nibbly things from the menu, including what was promised as the Best Grilled Cheese Sandwich, and which turned out to be, from Destiny as she took her first bite, a really good grilled cheese sandwich. The menu had no real center or focus; it was an interesting melange of Asian food with comfort food, as with the Onion Ring Pakoras we ordered.

The drinks were decent but not swell or anything. The place was so new that the prices for drinks were in some cases wrong, and we got them fixed so as to drop the price of drinking in Marjorie for all you vodka hounds out there.

The place had a vaguely Indian decor, with the ceiling covered in upholstered cushions that I suspect were meant to evoke a harem or similar room, cushioned all about with bright colors, and which, once you looked at it that was, totally succeeded. The staff was friendly, the place was nice, and the prices were a bit high, but not outlandishly so.

In other words, although we wanted to hate the place, we couldn't. It's not the Lush Life (especially outside, where the charming little courtyard had given way to effectively an alley with seats) but it's still good. If there had been no Lush Life, we'd have really liked it. As it was, it was still a decent place with interesting food.

Eventually we figured out how we were paying, gave the bar to Glen for his next to last sponsorship, and moved on.

Destiny and Sven had, in their endless driving and parking nightmare, discovered a new bar, they thought. It had a bar, they were sure, although it wasn't on our list, but they thought maybe it was because they did catering, too. So we wandered the three blocks or so to this place, and beheld Casuelitas.

It's a Carribean place, with the bar featuring Rum (they claim to be Seattle's only Rum Bar, but they need to work on that, as there are at least two places in Seattle with much better Rum selections) and the menu featuring things like Jerk Chicken and Goat Curry. The drink specials were also interesting, with the delicous Deep Blue Sea and the warming and tasty Spiked Hot Chocolate.

The bartender told us they had been open for 8 days, so that was why they weren't on the list at all. She was a very attractive woman, and while she's not super fast at whipping up the drinks just yet, there was no problem with waiting in the friendly little ground floor bar. The dining area is upstairs, as are the restrooms (AKA the drunk test, since it involves locked doors, keys and throwing a lot of dead bolts. If you can't do it, you're too drunk.)

We sat around two little tables pushed together and enjoyed our drinks, checking out the little wicker chairs that were so comfy, and shortly making way for a group of office worker women out getting plowed. They were in and out in twenty minutes, while we lingered and drank more. The place was just really nice (although their Sangria, which I had, leaves much to be desired, as it has very little zest.)

Brandon got locked out in the bathroom and had to make his way around the outside of the building. Destiny and Sven eventually had to go. I signed in in Casuelitas' guest book. We all decided we liked the place.

Sean picked up the sponsorship and decided he'd be returning the next week, last night that was, so that he could stop in for their official grand opening. With four bars under us, we decided to call it a night and headed home.

I think this is one of the last half dozen Mexican places in the city. And thank god for that.

Anyway, Clara, Brandon and I had gone to a baby birthday party, for the cutest child on the planet, and after had gone to this bar. It possesses only one distinction, that of being the furthest northerly bar in the city of Seattle. There can be no bar further north, since it's on 145th, on the Seattle side of the street, and twenty feet further would take it out of the city.

The drinks were anything notable. The prices were dirt cheap, but I think it was happy hour. Still, really cheap. The salsa was really bland.

And that was Las Margaritas. Nothing but north.

We'd tried to hit a couple of other bars that were closed on Sundays, and finally found the Golden Gate, a Chinese place just across the street from Costume and Display. It had a reasonably sized but totally run down lounge, with a single pool table, a single dart machine, and a bunch of rather worn tables.

One of those tables had one of the bar video game machines, and we spent the whole visit playing with it. Quarter after quarter vanished in as I played Boxxi and Tai Pan, and then as we all played, rather poorly, bar trivia games. We got high scores by default, since no one else had scores on a lot of the games.

The drinks weren't much, and weren't large, but weren't all that pricey either. So it was okay, I guess.

Clara picked up the sponsorship, and we moved on as soon as the quarters ran out.

We sat at the bar, the three of us, in this rather nice smelling place. There were a couple people in the restaurant, one woman at the bar who apparently also worked there in some fashion, or at least jumped behind the bar a couple of times, and a small dance floor right behind us. The World Chess Championships were playing on the big TV across the dance floor, which Clara and I figured out was the third most boring thing behind bowling and golf that they could have been showing.

We ordered our drinks and a small crisis ensued as the staff realized they couldn't find tonic, only soda, and a vodka and soda was no good. The woman at the bar came behind the bar and found a bottle of tonic, and then one of the weird things we're noting about Ethiopian places happened. We were served rocks glasses with shots of liquor in them, and then a can of coke and the bottle of tonic on the side, ready to be poured as we saw fit. No ice, no mixed drink per se, just the alcohol and the mixer on a tray. It's happened before, and it's almost happened since, but we said we wanted our drinks mixed the next time, and it happened. Don't know what the deal is, but apparently it's something common to the restaurant, and as we have a lot more of them to hit, we'll see if it lasts.

The drinks were thus as strong as we wanted, really, but were kind of warm, and there was only so much booze. While all the food looked and smelled quite good, they had no nibbly things, so we skipped the food option. It took quite a while to get our check, and to pay, but eventually it was accomplished.

We moved on, to a bonus stop at the Rendezvous to meet up with Tara, whose baby's party we had been at earlier, and thus to hit another bar or two with her.

The saddest happy karaoke night ever. There were a bunch of people here singing their hearts out (and many of them were pretty good) but the crowd was comprised very much of their regulars, mostly older and many kind of scary. Still, as mentioned, about half had real pipes on them, and the singing was far above the norm in karaoke that I've encountered on this quest.

The bar isn't big, is crowded with weirdly placed tables, and apparently has people who are so regular they just clean up while they're not drinking.

The drinks were nothing much, but it was nice to sit with Tara, who'd never been out with us since she had a baby about two months before we started the quest, and it's really only about the start of when she could come out at all. We all had a good talk, and on TV was an MTV True Life Special that Clara and I had just talked about earlier in the day, which was strangely cool, because there it was for her to see.

After a couple of us gave glances at the karaoke song lists (and I was afraid the regulars might make us sing before we left) we decided there would be no singing, and that in fact we would just leave with some degree of haste.

Sadly, other bars we attempted to hit were closed or had covers we didn't want to pay, so that was about it for the night.

Tara picked up the bar, hurray! I'm very glad she had time to come out with us, even if it was just a bar and a half.

One of the oddest places in the city, but it was so very cool. Andy's is made of a half dozen or so train cars pressed up next to each other and turned into a restaurant and lounge. Real train cars, with most of their interior fixtures left intact or replicated, and then with tables and a kitchen and a bar put inside. From the moment I walked in, I was impressed. I presume Brandon was, but it's too bad it was just the two of us this night, because it was a great stop.

We went to the Saloon Car, actually two cars with the bar at one end and rows of tables on either side of the central divider, since the cars weren't totally joined, and sat at the bar. The bartender, Ruth, served us up quick and friendly, and a moment later, as I was getting back from a bathroom break, offered to show us around the place. I assumed Brandon had shown her a card, told her the story, but that turned out not to be the case.

The tour took us around to the private meeting room, the Presidential Car which was once used by T. Roosevelt, the Parlor Car with a different, lighter color scheme, the Executive Room in the back, and the Roundhouse Room, also in the back. There was also a Caboose Room in the very back, plus a large kitchen, the main dining cars and an event kitchen. The place was truly huge, and was probably totally well used in the early days, since it's been there from 1949 on.

On the night in question, it was pretty dead, but then they were closing half an hour later, and it's deep Sodo on a Thursday night. There's space in the place for you and your hundred best friends, though, and it's totally worth a trip.

When we got back to our seats, I discovered Brandon hadn't carded her at all, she was just showing us around. So of course we carded her, and she loved the idea. She asked if we had been to Tula's, and when we said it always had a cover so we hadn't been there, she gave us cards good for a free entry on Sundays, when she tends bar there. So we'll be going to Tula's soon, thanks to Ruth.

There was also a rather drunken Mexican guy two seats over from us. It was unclear if he worked there or not (he definitely wasn't working at the time) but he was very unintelligably friendly. He spoke broken, drunken Spanglish, and there was no way to figure out what the hell he was saying, but he smiled a lot and shook our hands as we left, so what more could you ask for?

Ruth wished us the best, we gave the sponsorship to Glen because it was a great place and he was on his last sponsorship, and we headed a bit further south to hit another bar.

A big, empty bar, with a long row of dart machines taking up half the space. It wasn't much to look at, and indeed it wasn't much. They had a couple Budweiser frogs in the place (old ad campaign, and still in serious rotation), they had a good number of low life semi-drunks, there was a black couple shooting darts and loading the jukebox up with Sade (good stuff).

The drink special was a Mike's Cranberry Hard Lemonade and a shot of vodka for $4.75. It was that kind of place.

We got our drinks, Brandon got cash back for cigarettes, we drank pretty fast and he smoked one, and then we were out. There was nothing to the place beyond a lot of neons and the dart boards, and so really, there was nothing there.

Jak's Roadhouse is most definitely dead, and something else is being worked on there. Hopefully it won't open before we get done, but we don't have a lot of hope.

Angel's Thai Food on Broadway went away as well. They barely had a bar, but we drank, and they qualified. Not the biggest loss, but still, they're dead.

In back from the dead news, the replacement for Avenue One is far worse than the replacement for Lush Life. Marjorie so beats the Cha Bar's butt that there's no comparing the two. And thus Avenue One remains the most missed bar of the lot.

At long last, after four months, the reappearance of Bridgit. Back in October, she dropped out of the quest, because it wasn't really working for her. But she had agreed to pick up any bars from her napkin of sponsorships, now sadly lost. The only one we could recall from the napkin was 611 Supreme, and we've been trying to figure out a good time to go for a month or more. At last the time had arrived.

We were going out with Bridgit and Heather from my work. The two of them go out every couple of weeks for a drink or two, but I didn't really know Heather, and Brandon's never met her at all, so it promised to be an interesting night. And indeed it was.

We started at 611, which has just recently been remodelled to take advantage of an expansion. The bar was part of what was moved and is still being finished in the new space, so we took a seat in the restaurant after confirming we could still order drinks. Then we decided to take advantage of the availability of crepes, and everyone ordered one.

The service wasn't too fast, but there was only one waitress and it was pretty busy, to that was okay. And it was leisurely and pleasant to just sit and talk with Bridgit out on the quest again. Heather was pretty quiet at first, but then she didn't know either of the guys really, and with Bridgit back in quest mode I can totally see why it took Heather a while to get into it. We sampled each other's crepes, drank our reasonably unremarkable drinks, and were there for about an hour and a half overall. The dinner crepes were enormous, the dessert crepes tasty but odd.

It was a nice little place, but while the crepes were very reasonable, the drinks were a bit more than I thought they should be. But it was okay, because, well...

Bridgit picked up the sponsorship.

Boy, I've missed writing that. Anyway, we checked with Heather to see if she wanted to hit another bar, she said she was fine with that (and would end up spending a rather long night out with us) and so we were off.

There was much getting lost concerning this place, both getting to it and from it. It's not an easy place to find, since it's in an obscure little part of Magnolia. But eventually, after phone calls and me getting stupidly snappish, we all arrived. Everyone's initial thought was that it was somehow an Anthony's restaurant, because it looked a lot like one from the outside. We sat in the back corner of the bar, where I thought the dessert menu looked awful familiar, like an Anthony's one, and we ordered drinks.

Also some chowder and a dessert. I forgot to mention about 611 that they had the most boring bread ever. It tasted like, uh, well, there's nothing it tasted like. With butter, without, with a touch of salt, the 611 bread tasted like nothing at all. Literally. Just something flavorless in your mouth. It didn't even taste, as a lot of bad bread will, like dough. Just nothing. So when my chowder came with very tasty bread, I was happy.

Anyway, the drinks weren't much to write home for, but that was alright. They weren't awful either, and the chowder was decent, the dessert was good and the bread was great. Plus by this time Heather was getting into being out, and was talking as much as anyone, which was good. She's a lot of fun.

When the bill arrived, at the bottom it suggested getting Anthony's gift certificates. So they are, in some way, an Anthony's, and we felt better for having it confirmed.

While this was the end of our quest-based drinking, it was not the end of our drinking as a whole for the night. We would later go to Elliott's and hear vastly amusing stories from Joe, and still later have excellent Cashew Chicken at Typhoon, and still later there would be me needing to go to the bathroom very badly at a closed bar we were trying to hit. Anyway, we all became reasonably tipsy, and me needing to keep the drivers sober became rather more than that, and it was a very good night.

News about two of our favorite bartenders.

The good news first. Florence, our fav bartender from the Wildrose, just got picked by the Stranger and Stranger readers as one of Seattle's two Sexiest Bartenders. Which, I think, is just wonderful.

And the bad news, sort of. Bad for us, good for him. Ethan from Elliott's is soon to move back to California along with the lovely Andrea, and thus will no longer be tending bar at our beloved haunt. Thank god Joe will still be there, and Jesus and all the rest. As we learned with Melody, to our sorrow, losing your favorite bartender in a place can totally kill. Fortunately, there are multiple cool bartenders at Elliott's. Still, we're going to miss Ethan, but wish him the best in sunny California.

A little corner restaurant a block off any major streets, and mostly empty, you can tell this is a neighborhood huant. The sign out front is one of the old white plastic type, with bulbs inside that flash on and off, one color to the next, in this case white bulbs to amber ones. There's an audible click every time as it happens, and on that lonely street corner, it's like part of a horror movie, click and the lights a little brighter, click and it's a little dimmer. Click, click. And I had to wait there for Brandon, who forgot something in the car, and while it was kind of creepy, I liked it.

The restaurant gives way in the back to the bar, an old and obviously well used area. There was no sign of LeeAnne and Bridgit, who we were supposed to be meeting. LeeAnne had claimed the sponsorship months ago, but it had taken this long to get to picking up the bar because of the holidays and then her great liver cleansing (an inspiration to all of us who drink too much.) So Brandon and I sat in a booth and waited, already a few minutes late ourselves, and a few moments later they arrived.

The bartender was Irish, I think, from the accent that showed up every so often. She came to take our drink orders, and we decided a couple of us wanted food. Bridgit wanted something for there, and Brandon wanted something to go because I had to get home and he was my ride, and so we placed one order for there, and one to go. The trouble started there.

The drinks arrived, and we sipped up while we chatted and consumed chips and very thin salsa. Bridgit's cheese enchilada arrived, and she tore in, but I was wondering where Brandon's food was. A moment passed, in which I thought maybe it was getting boxed up, but then nothing, and I was kind of confused. But whatever, it was surely coming soon.

The drinks were done, and Bridgit was almost done eating (she's not a very fast eater, note) when LeeAnne took matters in hand and went to ask about the to go order. The waitress, accent in full effect, came over to apologize. She thought it was meant for after, so she didn't even put in the order until after she had served Bridgit, and it was just now ready.

Why don't servers just ask the simple questions that might prevent these stupid problems? Normally, I'd say no big deal, but still wonder why they didn't ask. In this case, I got kind of irked, because I had somewhere to be, and was now rather late. Just one question, that's all it would have taken. It was too bad, too, because it was a nice little place, she was friendly, the crowd was local but kind of rowdy, and the drinks weren't bad.

But all that matters not at all. The bartender didn't ask, I missed my people, my night was busted, and so Tarasco pretty much blows. And this time it's so purely subjective that it's easy to ignore me.

LeeAnne picked up the sponsorship, and the drinks were damn cheap perhaps because it was happy hour. In any case, they were 2.25, and that's almost enough to win back my love, but not quite. Thanks, LeeAnne, for the sponsorship.

Type: Sports Bar
Class: Average

This large sports bar is located out of the way down on Airport Way. To be honest, I had no real idea where Airport Way was, but after we passed the once Ranier Brewery (now owned by Tullys) I had a useful landmark. Posted on the door was a sign that read, “Valentines Day Dinner and Darts Tournament.” Tell me that is not a strange combination. It did set the proper mood for where we were though.

The bar is split into 3 areas. The entry way had a couple of tables and the jukebox. Across from the entryway is a large open area filled with dart machines and trophies. Kittie corner from the darts area was the bar proper, a lounge area, and a small dance floor used to house the Karoke machine. Tonight, of course, was a Karoke night. Great.

Hanging around the bar were beer logos a go go as well as a number of kites and faux lava lamp type contraptions. These are the machines that have colored fabric that is blown by a fan with some light pouring up from below. The small menu on the table was horribly misspelled in a number of places, but it did have one very interesting item. We could have a Meat-a-Tarian pizza. Now that sounds good.

Jason thought that our probably straight bartender, Byron, was very cute. I have pretty much come to accept that I don’t understand what gay men (or in that case women) like in men. I know that an in shape body is good, but when it comes to who is ‘hot’ I just don’t get it. Byron did pour a very strong $3.75 drink.

The one guy singing Karoke sang “Sweet Home Chicago.” Nope, I hadn’t heard of it before either. Jason’s comment was, “Any song that features the words, ‘Hey de hey’ can’t be all bad.”

Goldies - Airport way is probably a very good sports bar, but as with all sports bar, they just don’t do anything for me. This one is at least comfortable and friendly. I give them 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Nightspot
Class: Average

Despite the fact that T-21 is normally a Mexican night spot, somehow we managed to luck onto it when it was Country Music night. Now I actually prefer Mexican music to Country music but, judging from the lack of crowd it did seem to keep the place mostly empty. According to Beth, our attractive white bartender, this place has about 300+ people on the weekends. Beth was very nice, tall and attractive, but she seemed very out of place in an establishment like this. She doesn’t speak Spanish and she stands out quite notably. At least she has all of the power since she stands behind the bar and is not a cocktail waitress.

Décor consisted of the red and green tea light holders on the bar and a stuffed Speedy Gonzales doll behind the bar. Oh, Beth also recognized the quest from an article she had read in the paper. wOOt to us. I love getting recognized even if it only minorly. She had been confused about what had brought us out to the middle of nowhere to visit a Mexican nightclub. It all made sense after we explained the quest.

Now Beth will be unhappy that I mentioned this, but I think it is funny. While we were there, the bar had some guys re-finishing the floor in the back. I guess that it is normally so slow on Thursday that they can just do that sort of thing. This is not normal for the place, but sometimes we have excellent timing.

On the TV behind the bar, they were showing Mexican MTV with the sound off. Beth was talking about the video that was on. It has a guy wearing a Lucidore style wrestling mask of a chicken head. She has never heard the song, despite having seen the video dozens of times. This strikes me as incredibly funny.

So, if you want to be the next Ben Affleck and find yourself a nice J-Lo or a Melanie Griffith looking for her Antonio Banderas then this is going to be your best bet in Seattle. So put on your shiniest clothing, step your attitude up a notch and come on down for a good time. If not, don’t make the trip special. I give T-21 3 Martini glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Neighborhood
Class: Dive

We were utterly unable to find this place while driving south along 1st (I think it was 1st.) That is because the place is blocked from view by a series of 4 tractor trailers. Coming north along the same road, we able to find the place without any trouble.

The Copper Door is a trucker bar with a small, older, Asian woman for a bartender. There are two coin op pool tables, ugly carpet, and a small raised area in the back with a table or two. Large number of framed beer signage hang around the place which pretty much indicates that it is going to have a good juke box.

Behind the bar we could see a giant industrial size box of Franzia. Always buy Franzia when you are not going to sell a lot of wine. It takes a good couple of months for it to go bad. Please don’t ask why I know that, I just do.

My favorite aspect of this bar were the two grizzled truckers sitting at the far end of the bar. They looked just like you would expect, clothed in flannel, looking a little scruffy, and one of them wearing a red baseball looking hat. The topic of conversation that got loud enough for us to hear it was about Iraq. It was talk that would have made George W. very proud.

The drinks were $2.75 so it wasn’t all bad. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

I believe that this restaurant is Philippine based on the unusual items on the menu, but it hard to say based on my unknowing eye. The crowd was very mixed, including numerous whites and people of Pacific Rim nations. There were a number of small groups eating and the others were listening to Tez and Al do live band Karaoke. By live band they mean a guitar and a keyboard, but who are we to complain. At least it is more interesting that the standard pre boxed pain.

Beth, of T-21, sniggered a bit when we mentioned that we were coming here. For some reason the thought of us going from T-21 to the Copper Door and finally to the Koffee Pot just made her night.

The Menu was labeled: Menu 2003. No more, no less. It had a number of dishes we did not recognize so I just ordered 3 pieces of chicken and fries. They don’t food around here. Out came 3 whole pieces of chicken and a mass of fries for about $6.50. It was a great value.

The décor was low rent with lots of brown vinyl, Icicle lights, and a chintzy Valentines Day decorations up (it was in only a couple of days.) The main restaurant had lots of Asian art, but the hall to the bathroom and the bathroom itself had a strange collection of posters, including the classic Beatles poster with the 4 of them in black and Ringo sitting forward.

The drink was decent, but priced a little high at $4.50, especially considering the area. I like them well enough though and give them 3 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Nightspot
Class: Average

The Cuff is known as the younger, more “upscale” gay leather bar, especially when compared to the older more scary Eagle. They once had the Cuff kitchen, but apparently that did not work out and we had to instead sit in the bar and eat typical bar food.

The main club area is dressed all in black with lots of leather allusions and straight out (sorry) gay iconography. The bar in the center is a large square allowing the bartender full and easy access to everyone in the place. The drinks are strong and the 80s music was good. It was not Gay great though. I expect the music in gay clubs to be of a higher order than anywhere else. 2 dart machines, 1 pool table, and gay men sitting alone provide entertainment for those looking.

The best touch to the place were the large number of gay themed license plates. They all had suggestive names and words spelled out in the typical 6 or 7 letter language used by license plate writers.

I know that this place is usually packed, but there were not many people here on a Saturday afternoon. I give them 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5. Add a half if you are gay, and another full glass if you like leather.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Dive

Located within a short drive from the West Seattle Bridge and Legends in this open to the public golf course. Their hours are short and all in the day time. The lounge is uninteresting and plastered with lots of beer logos and some golf related material (who would have thunk.)

That having been said, if you want to get liquored cheap during the day, this is the place. The wells are $2.50 and mixed strong. The bartender was very friendly and he mentioned that he usually gets to work the “course cart.” There is a cart that they have out on the field, so in summer you can grab a drink and futz around on the course. It may not sound like much, but how else do you want to spend a summer day than getting nicely buzzed on the cheap in the sun.

The normal bartender is supposed to be large breasted and she makes really good tips. I am torn between eye candy and the entertaining guy that we had. I guess it would depend on how strong she mixed the drinks.

I give the West Seattle Golf Course 3 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

The owners (and many of the workers) of this restaurant used to work at a number of places downtown that we are big fans of. I can not think of the place, but I believe the review in the Seattle Times listed them all. The food is reputed to be good and the Calamari we had lived up to the expectation. It was tender and flavored excellently. I tried some of Jim’s yellow tomato soup and that was excellent as well.

The restaurant is fairly small and the bar is short, seating only six. It is shaped with a 90 degree angle so it is good for a small group to be able to drink and chat. After we had been sitting there a little while, an nice older woman, Mary, inserted herself into our conversation with the bartender. We were telling him about the quest and she was curious. We were happy to oblige. I did not notice a ring (one way or the other) but Jason was of the opinion that this was her first time there and that she was just checking it out. She sat in the single chair (instead of the pair next to Jim) so she obviously wasn’t waiting for anyone. I love these little observations that people make.

Jim picked up the sponsorship of the $4.75 drinks and they were pretty good. The well is decent booze and the pour is respectable. The name OVIO can be formed to create a martini glass, which is, of course, something that I can get behind. I am kind of jealous that I did not think of it. There was some masterful napkin use in play here, both on the tables and at the bar. The bartender was friendly and knowledgeable and I had a good time here.

I give the Ovio Bistro 4 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Lounge
Class: Average

The bartender over at the Lizzard Lounge (across the street) had nothing but nice things to say about Petro’s Pizza. They did seem friendly, but there was nothing special about them. They are your typical local family pizzeria. I will admit that you find many of them any more. While the food may be good (I did not try any) the drinking experience was bland for me. I noticed that the waitress had big hoop earrings and that always makes me laugh.

We were so steeped in private in jokes that it was almost impossible to be around us. Just ask our lovely sponsor Jim, who did not even get half of them and he is our friend. Of course you could not possibly hope to get most of them unless you were us and well, you aren’t. That’s the thing about private jokes. They should just stay way. Explaining them never makes them more than marginally funny and why spoil your own private laugh anyhow.

“Hottentots have that too.” Once again, I have no idea what that means. One of these days I will remember what these random quotes mean. Sheesh.

The drink was $3.75 and it was not strong. I am bored just talking near this place. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5. Oh, and the bar is right next to the eating area, so the place the is non-smoking.

-wOOt

Type: Hotel
Class: Upscale

The Four Seasons hotel has a bevy of eating and drinking establishments. We could have gone to the Georgian, but there was a wedding reception there with Bride’s Maids in dark crimson dresses and men in tuxes. So without that option available to us, we made our way to the hotel bar.

The Garden is an expansive room, about as high as it is large. The look is clean and the color is green with touches of gold. I always find interesting that no matter how nice a classic hotel bar is supposed to be, it always has a strong feel of tacky. This is not to say that this room looked bad, but it just lacked a certain crispness. It felt like a hotel bar, no matter how nice everything in it was.

Large potted plants sat all around. Comfy chairs surrounded marble tables. A medium sized marble bar sat at one end, but for me I think it was the carpeting that ruined it for me. It is that terrible hotel floral pattern. I really hate that carpeting. My gin and tonic was prepared at the table for me. The waiter had a small pitcher of tonic and added a bit to my drink and then left the pitcher so that I could add more to taste.

We came here with Bridgit, Bridgit’s mom and the Russian Baroness. The two of them are a kick. They are going to have to go out with me and my mom when she comes out. I think that they would get along famously. The Russian Baroness has a total Zsa Zsa Gabor feel to her that I find incredibly amusing. Bridgit’s mom is just lovely and watching the two of them debate who is going to get to pay is endlessly entertaining.

My drink was good, but it was not $7.25 good. Sure it is the Four Seasons, but you will get a better drink and a nicer atmosphere at the 727. A big thanks goes out to Bridgit’s Mom and the Russian Baroness for picking up their first sponsorship.

I give the Garden 3 Martini Glasses out of 5. It is comfortable, nice, with good snack mix, but those drinks are pricey.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

This seafood (oysters specifically) restaurant in the Four Seasons is really intended for tourists, rather than locals. The food looked pretty good, but it was definitely on the pricey side.

The inside looked like a typical Midscale seafood joint except that everything was just a little nicer. Decked out in dark wood and cooper it also had numerous chandeliers and high ceilings (although not nearly as large as the Garden.)

The menu was expensive, and the crab bruchetta that Bridgit’s mom and I shared was excellent. If you order food (which we didn’t) they bring out a great breadbasket filled with a bunch of different types of rolls.

I have no idea what we talked about, but I believe it involved a lot of talk about travel and photography. I love talking to people who are older and more well off than I am. I don’t feel as silly talking about all of the traveling I have done. They have their own stories to match mine. When I talk about spending two weeks in Paris or 6 months in Australia, they can counter with the month in Russia or the 3 months traveling Europe. I know that I have a lot of stories but I feel cruel when I tell most of them since they always start, “So when I was living in Amsterdam …”

Shucker’s was expensive and uninteresting. Don’t waste your time with this tourist centrist restaurant. Go down to the Waterfront, Alki, Shilshole or something, but don’t go here. I give them 1 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5. Thanks go to Bridgit’s Mom and the Russian Baroness for picking up these $6.75 drinks.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Midscale

Every chocoholic in Seattle knows Dilettante Chocolate. Here you can get some of the best fixes in Seattle, as long as you are willing to pay for it. They don’t have anything as good as El Gaucho’s Bailey’s Cake, but they have product that is almost as good but with a lot more variety.

Dilettante was almost a questionable pick up but they have drinks with schnapps and schnapps counts as booze. Besides the Russian Baroness is a chocoholic and Bridgit’s mom has never turned down a trip to Dilettante Chocolate in here life.

The interior is dominated by the giant display cases full of chocolates and cakes and tortes and other just plain goodness. Crooners and Divas played in the background as we choose from the heavenly menu filled with Ephemere chocolate concoctions. Antique mirrors hang about the place which help to balance the vinyl covered tables and simple plain brown chairs.

Bridgit’s Mom and the Russian Baroness picked up my $5 drink and dessert. So while Dilettante will never get you drunk, it will make you feel as though you are in love. Which is better? I am not really sure yet to be honest.

I give Dilettante 4 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

We went out with Chris to attempt to hit a few bars and have some dinner. Dinner turned out to be the first stop, as we dropped in at Kokeb at the southern end of Capitol Hill where it's fading into the CD.

There were a few other diners in the place, and we were seated somewhat slowly, which was a sign of things to come. The service is leisurely at Kokeb, where the menu identifies the place as the oldest Ethiopian restaurant in the Northwest. We ordered drinks and dinner, and the drinks took a goodly while to arrive, and perhaps continued with our strange drink theory of Ethiopian restaurants.

In the past two such restaurants, drinks have been brought as a shot in a rocks glass, no ice, with the mixer in a seperate bottle or can next to it. Here, the waitress asked if we wanted it seperate, and when we said no, it took a long time to get the drinks, and they were actually mixed. I think it's likely that she would have just brought it in the "standard" style if we hadn't cared. It remains an oddity of the type of restaurant, but not one that we can be one hundred percent certain of.

The drinks themselves were not very strong, but at least included ice.

The food was good and plentiful, although as with everything at Kokeb, it took it's own sweet time to show up. The whole dining experience was about 90 minutes, and perhaps as a result we ran into several other bars afterwards that had closed, and we didn't end up hitting any more for the night.

Chris decided to go all out on the sponsorship, and picked up the food also, for which a thousand blessings should descend on him.

A sports bar in the middle of nowhere that I was told over the phone isn't open at all on the weekends unless they're having an event. Which kind of makes sense, because there's nothing around them on Airport Way except businesses. South of the Tully's plant, in the shadow of I-5, they're really pretty isolated. But they're also huge.

It's a big bar area, with lots of seating, karaoke, pool, and a big darts area. They take their darts seriously, since on Valentine's day they were having a Dinner and Darts romantic night sort of thing, or at least their signage implied such.

Brandon and I got a table in the actual bar area, where the karaoke machine was on, but no one was singing as we entered. That would soon change, as in a few minutes a succession of slightly drunk 30-40 year old men would warble out a bad series of mediocre songs. It wasn't the worst ever, but it was kind of close.

The bartender/waiter was a truly gorgeous guy who was also cooking what food there was to be cooked, while a second bartender watched the actual bar. At least, I think she was, since she didn't venture out from behind it. He got our drinks quickly, then came back a bit later to check and see if they were good. We told him, quite truthfully, that they were rather strong.

The bar menu had a large number of typos on it, and featured most wonderfully the meat-a-tarian pizza, which I can only presume is covered with every sort of animal flesh they have in the kitchen.

When the waiter returned to ask if we wanted another drink, and we said we were done, he said, "Oh, so they weren't any good, huh?" kind of jokingly, and we decided to card him, but didn't have any cards. So while Brandon ran to the car to get cards, I started the quest talk with Byron, as his name turned out to be. He thought it was a great idea and was somewhat stunned at how many we had been to, and as a result could totally understand our departure after only one drink. It's too bad we had to leave, though, because he was really cute.

We carded him when Brandon returned, paid up for the not pricey drinks, and headed out to hit some more bars.

We couldn't find a bar, so we ended up here. We were supposed to hit the Copper Door, but we somehow missed it, and T-21, aka Tropicana 21, is four blocks further south, so when we hit it, we knew we had gone too far. It looked open, so we decided we might just as well pick it up, and then see about the Copper Door after.

On the weekends, this is a busy night club. But on Thursdays it's Country night, and apparently last Thursday it was Totally Dead Night. So much so the owners were taking the opportunity to paint the concrete floor. There were about four people at the bar, a half dozen getting ready for the paint job, and the lovely bartender.

She looked totally out of place, with her little pixie cut and purple velvety shirt and general alternative look. I would have expected her in a Capitol Hill bar, something like that, not a night club on East Marginal Way. But there she was, and poured us quick drinks in plastic cups (which shows that they must be rather busy normally.)

We talked for a minute about the kind of crowd they might get on weekends, two or three hundred people, 90% hispanic, hugely busy and popular in the area. We said we were kind of glad we missed it, since hugely busy isn't our favorite, and since we're white. Then we told her why we were out in the middle of nowhere, since she had asked, and she said she had read the article in the Times about us, which was very cool for us.

So we talked with her, and with the guys at the bar, about the quest a little bit, drank our drinks, and glanced around the huge, for the moment very empty space with all the chairs and tables stacked against one wall so they could paint. It must be something when it's totally full, but I don't think I'll likely find out myself.

With best wishes from Beth (as we finally found out her name was just shortly before departing) we headed out to hit the Copper Door.

Type: Hotel
Class: Average

The most interesting part of this hotel bar is that it is located behind a set of large old wooden doors. They are heavy, requiring you to put your weight (or strength) into getting them open. Then, unfortunately, you enter a rather uninteresting, dimly lit, basement bar. The simple red tables stand out against the dark stained wood.

We managed to arrive during happy hour so we got cheap drinks and cheaper food. Now by cheaper food, I am talking about its quality since it was free. There were two catering dishes, one full of greasy onion rings and the other with 3 lonely cocktail weenies sitting forlornly at the bottom of the near empty serving dish. It was nearing six so I did not expect the dishes to be refilled. Yeah, that’s a heartbreaker.

Our waitress was cute with a hot ass and tight fitting mini skirt. I wouldn’t have minded talking to her a bit but today we were on a mission (and sitting at a table) so it was not meant to be. The crowd was older but I could not tell if them were locals or people staying at the hotel. The clothes were mixed, with some low class and some looking like they had just gotten off of work. That means they were probably locals or that this is a low class downtown hotel.

I give Bernard’s on Seneca 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5. They had free food and a cute waitress. I loved the doors, but otherwise it was bland.

-wOOt

We had missed this place on the way south, because it wasn't lit. Well, not exactly. There were three neons, and a Coca-Cola sign, but the Copper Door sign wasn't lit up, and all of these signs were hidden behind semis parked in front of the place. The restaurant area was closed, but the bar was still open, and it wasn't much.

It was a little, dingy bar, with two coin op pool tables and a jukebox that was playing good music. There were three guys at one end of the bar, and a single table with a drunken guy at it, and that was it. The old Chinese bartender was short and almost hidden behind the bar.

She took our order and went around to try to get our drinks, which was a bit of a trouble, because there was apparently no well bourbon at the bar, so she had to putter into the back, opening up the locked storeroom and returning.

The drinks weren't great. They weren't even good, but they didn't suck. However, they were a little more expensive then they should be. But whatever, it was some little hidden bar, it didn't matter.

The guys at the end of the bar departed after spending time discussing the lost and hidden city of Babylon, once located in Iraq but now forgotten. Completely. I love drunk guys at the ends of the bars.

And that was about it. We left because we had another place to go to.

It looked like another cheap kind of restaurant, but inside there was a big bar area with live karaoke stuff. At least, there were two guys playing guitar and synthesizer, and people singing karaoke in various different languages, sometimes with the "band" and sometimes with just a karaoke machine.

The bartender brought us food, and it was extensive. For very reasonable prices, you could get a massive mess of real onion rings, or a real three piece chicken platter with a ton of fries.

The drinks were pretty decent, although they were slow to arrive, but then there was only one bartender/waitress, so that it didn't seem too bad. The cook brought the food, so it was actually rather fast, comparatively.

The karaoke was kind of peculiar, since it varied in language, in background, and in skill, more than pretty much any place we'd been.

The drinks were pretty pricey, far more than they should have been in such a divey kind of cheap bar on Marginal Way, but the cheap food kind of compensated, and we called it a night.

So last night we tried to go out on a carefully planned itinerary with Bridgit, Bridgit's Mom, and the Russian Baroness. I had thought of all the places to hit, it being BM's 50th birthday, and we were going to start at Canlis. We were all dressed appropriately, and all was well.

Except they were closed. I'd called them before to find out their hours and nothing had been mentioned of Sunday closure. So, grrr.

So the big starter was done. We decided we'd go hit Mr. Lucky. It's new, but I'd called them too, and they were supposed to be open 5 pm to 2 am every day.

Well, they aren't. They still had lit neon, but they weren't open at all. So, further grrr.

Bridgit's Mom and Russian Baroness are now throwing out places to go drink, and we've been to all of them so far, but we still have a couple more places to try.

However, Medusa is apparently also closed on Sunday. Not that we saw that last time we checked their hours, but maybe we just missed it?

Last stop, Bernards on Seneca, a Hotel Bar. Called just last week, and they should be open every day. The sign on their door in fact insists that the dinner hours are 5-9, Monday thru Sunday. But it's locked, and the woman at the desk looked at us like we were crazy when we asked if the restaurant was open, and then asserted that it should be based on the sign. I think she entirely wanted to deny the existance of the sign.

Finally we found our way to another bar, thanks to the Russian Baroness's intimate knowledge of downtown drink spots.

But why must it be like this? Why must we hit five places, two of which have vowed their most definite open states, to get a single drink? What is wrong with this city?

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

The front dining room of this restaurant was medium sized with simple tables, yellow in color and utterly empty. A small keyboard and guitar sat off to one side and pictures of Ethiopia sat on the wall.

In the back was a small blue lounge with little more than a bar and 3 tables. A number of locals looked at us curiously (not unfriendly) as we walked in and sat down. We ordered drinks and I asked to look at the menu. Just then a sizzling plate of Beef Tibs was brought out to the two Ethiopian guys sitting at the end of the bar. Jason and I mulled over the menu a bit and then decided just to order what they had gotten since it smelled so good. Our bartender seemed pleased that we were ordering food.

I am becoming a big fan of Ethiopian food. I am curious if the menu that most of these places have is a traditional menu or if it has been Americanized (less spicy, different ingredients, etc …) They brought us out a plate filled with sizzling beef strips, some vegetables and extra bread. Jason tried a particular sauce and said, “don’t eat that. It is too spicy.” Of course he loves spicy and he was right. It was too spicy for me to eat much of it. The whole meal was excellent and it would be the best Ethiopian food in the area. Of course we didn’t eat everywhere, but this was just too good to be outdone.

They also have a breakfast menu and that cracks me up. I give them 4 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

After Lalibela it was another Ethiopian Place and some food. This time we got some chicken and mild sauce. It came out as two chicken legs covered in sauce with two hard-boiled eggs, also covered in sauce. It was pretty good, but not as good as Zobel.

Our waitress was friendly and she was very smiley. A guy sitting at the bar asked to borrow my lighter so that he could light the cigarettes for a pair of ladies sitting at a table. Then it was here that I saw the horrible toothpaste commercial that Jason had seen at Lalibela. It was just as bad as he said.

We then debated if I was allowed to block its existence from memory. He said that since it was the worst commercial ever, we had to remember it so that we could try to trump somebody else’s worst commercial ever. I suppose he has a point, but it seems a shame to waste precious brainpower on such a stupid thing. Of course, I still remember an Aqua Fresh Gel commercial that featured a bunch of smiling people dressed in blue doing a conga line to some snappy tune. I tried to counter Jason’s beaver commercial with it, but this one was worse.

The Blue Nile was nice and simple. I give them 2 and a half Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Restaurant
Class: Average

The most notable thing about this Ethiopian Place is that it is located across the street from the gallery where we saw, our friend, David’s art show. His was just a small selection of work amongst the whole show students. Some of the art there was very, very bizarre. My sister went to art school and it amused me whenever she would talk about the kids in her class. She was a Jewelry design major and describes herself as a craftsman, rather than as artist. “I like to make pretty things.” Her fellow students however were just what you would expect from art majors. They did a lot of experimental work and their work entered into the bizarre and esoteric. She never truly understood their concept of pushing the envelope and to be honest, neither do I. As a photographer, I seek to create images that are interesting and moving and in their own way beautiful. Artists, however, have a much different take on things and they very rarely work.

Saba is a single room with a mini half wall separating the bar area from the dining area. Sitting at the long candy cane bar were a number of locals and then us at the end of the bar. We ordered our drinks, talked about upcoming projects and interests and left quietly.

The drink was strong (as usual) and priced at $4. There is little to say about this place. I give them 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

Lalibela has one of the more interesting eating areas of the Ethiopian restaurants, but the bar area was small and uninteresting. The eating area was large, carpeted, and had lots of nice Ethiopian touches. I believe that there were a number of the traditional woven tables, some instruments, and a small sitting area for lounging and drinking.

My glass was truly excellent, shaped as an oval and smooth. I suspect though that they have an eclectic mix of glasses since Jason had a strange Waterford crystal esque glass.

The staff was friendly, but as usual, did not speak much English. While I was in the bathroom, Jason saw, “the worst commercial ever.” As I would see later, it a toothpaste commercial with these two hikers in the woods. They spot an animated beaver (they are real, but the beaver is animated … badly.) “Wow, look at how bright his teeth are” I imagine them saying (since we have not seen it with the sound on.) Then the beaver turns and talks about how he uses toothpaste with the power of nature. Then with a wave of his paw he magically sweeps animated icons of the plants and herbs and “nature” into the toothpaste tube and then throws the tube at them. To demonstrate how strong his teeth are he bites a twig in half. Needless to say, it was just bad.

I give Lalibela 2 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

The Addis has to be the most interesting of the Ethiopian places we have visited. Their bar area looked like an actual bar. It was short with 5 tall seats, various beer signage, and they gave me a drink with ice in it. I was actually a little sad about this. My favorite sign was for St. Paulie Girl and it had a thermometer built into it. It seemed really out of place in an Ethiopian restaurant.

On the way to the bathroom, I passed a small back room with a number of men hanging around in the doorway. Inside was a single pool table and a couple of guys playing. They were all just hanging around and having a good time like anyone would expect. It just struck me as funny that there was a special room in back away from the restaurant and bar for this. I wonder if it was really there for friends of the owner.

I liked the Addis Café well enough, but to be honest I would go over to Zobel first so that I could get great food. I wouldn’t come here to drink since I can get a better regular drink elsewhere and I will get the Ethiopian style of drink at Zobel (and most other places.)

I give the Addis Café 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

The Cuff is a leather/bear kind of bar, with a lower dance floor that was closed when we arrived. Instead, it was just a dim bar, not much different from most others except that the wall had sketches of burly, mustachioed men, and hanging on the wall were custom plates with various apporpiate phrases.

We ordered our drinks, Brandon seeming to be somewhat nervous and taking off (quite sensibly, I suppose, but it was still silly) his Milwaukee County Jail shirt. Brandon also ordered some chicken strips, and the bartender vanished into the back for the several minutes it took to make them. No one came in during that time, and none of the half dozen or so patrons seemed to need him for anything. They all had their beers, were watching music videos on the TVs scattered around the bar, and were occasionally chatting, but only two of them were together, so mostly they just all sat and smoked.

The clientele were all men (shocking, I know) and they were all in their forties or fifties. Every one of them had beer, and most had pitchers of beer. It was mid afternoon. The bartender, once he had returned with Brandon's reasonably decent chicken strips, spent most of his time (since really no one needed him for anything else) chatting away with one guy or another, drifting from guy to guy. You would think it would just turn into a bar wide talk (all six of them) but that wasn't the case.

We drank the not awful drinks, we ate the last few fries, we paid and left.

I have managed to maintain, for essentially my entire life, the belief that golf courses are ritzy places where the wealthy hang out and snub the poor. This is of course, not true. I'm thinking of country clubs, most of which include golf courses. Public, or at least urban, golf courses are quite normal places. The West Seattle Golf Course is, at least.

It's got a little restaurant and bar, and it's not open in the winter. They open in early February normally, after being closed since maybe October's end. And why on earth would you want to go there?

Well, it's really isolated. On a golf course in West Seattle. I guess if it was nice out, you might have some traffic. But we had the little sunken bar totally to ourselves. Which isn't enough, because it looked like someone's downstairs rec room bar, really, so it's not the sort of place you want for that. But the decent drinks are cheap. 2.50 standard for the drinks, and they're not terribly small or bad. So it's a pretty decent place in that sense.

Plus, in our case, it let us kill some time. We were going to pick up Jim, and the golf course ate up all the time we had left before he was going to be ready.

So I at least had a pretty decent time here. But it's so far from everything that I'm not exactly going to hang out here. Good to know about it, though.

It's a pretty new place, it's in West Seattle, and you've never heard of it. But you should really head to the Ovio Bistro.

The people who run it have been at Waterfront, at El Gaucho, at Wild Ginger. The restaurant is cosy, and the owner works it like a pro. Which he is. All his staff are people who worked for him at the various places he and his wife have run, and they're good choices. Our bartender Ebo was friendly and talkative right from the first, and asked all the right questions about the quest when we told him about it.

Further, the drinks were quite good, and the food was excellent. They have a wonderful and different calimari plate and delicious soup, which was sadly the small sampling that was all we had. The food's not that cheap, but it's totally worth it, at least what we had was. And it's not massively pricey, either.

I had a very tasty apple martini, which seemed a bit less than filling in the martini glass, but tasted superb and packed a lot of kick, so it was for the best in the end that it wasn't a truly huge drink. They know what they're doing.

Another customer sat at the very nice looking bar while we were there, and we ended up explaining to Mary about the quest, as well. She was sitting alone, drinking wine, but seemed very content with it. It was her first time in the restaurant, and I hope she liked it as much as we did.

It's worth the trip to West Seattle to drink here, and perhaps more so to eat here. The prices for the drinks, by the way, are reasonably high, but not ridiculous.

Jim picked up the sponsorship, many thanks to my possible future roommate.

Not much was remarkable here. The bar sits in the very back of the restaurant, and there were a number of people in the dim area, most of them eating. Brandon asked for the ashtray he saw, but the bartender reported it was just for people who lit up, because it was more polite to give them an ashtray to put their cigarette out in rather than having a glass or something, because there was no smoking in the bar at all.

We had decent but not remarkable drinks. There was nothing special about them at all.

There was a lot of talk between the three of us at the bar, since we didn't have much else to do. It was kind of dull. I pointed out that they had the Stranger's tipping guide comic, by Ellen Forney, at the waitress' station, but Brandon had no idea what I was talking about and couldn't tell what I was pointing to, even though it's a full page, so I gave up.

Jim picked up another sponsorship, making I think 7 for him. Thank you again, Jim. And then we were done for the day.

Type: Lounge
Class: Average

Like Kokeb, Mesob is one of the most established Ethiopian Restaurants in Seattle. As such you get a more Americanized experience with your Ethiopian food. This means that you get ice in your drink (unless you ask) and you get a waitress who speaks English.

Jason’s vodka and tonic came in a strange parfait looking glass. You know, I don’t think there is anyone out there who doesn’t like them some parfait. I can’t agree with Donkey more. It was a tad unnerving seeing a parfait glass with no parfait though. It made me sad.

Meg took us here since this is her favorite Ethiopian place. In fact, Meg and Brett’s first date was here. Isn’t that sweet. *shrug*, maybe I am just bitter about being single. I’ll try not to let it make me too bitter, because no one wants to date a bitter guy.

In the back is the actual lounge. Meg thinks that it is new since she doesn’t remember it. But then again, she may not have gone back there and just sat in the front room to have dinner. The bar has a bamboo edge and a large screen TV. They kept popping circuit breakers while I was sitting back there plunging us all into darkness. There would be some scurrying and then everything would come back on. I think it happened 3 times while I was back there.

Meg picked up our drinks and for that I offer a big thanks. The food was pretty good, but once again, not as good as Zobel.

I give Mesob 3 Martini Glasses out of 5.

-wOOt

I've already detailed the series of unfortunate events that preceeded appearing at this bar (see Why Must It Be This Way), so I won't mention them further. I will only say that we entered the Four Seasons hotel, uncertain of where their bar was, and were directed at once to a secretive, unlisted site, a wonder of a site.

It's a vast room, with a very high ceiling, one entire wall of windows, and indoor rockery/fountain and very attentive staff. We were seated next to the windows, we being Bridgit, Bridgit's Mom, the Russian Baroness, Brandon and me. The waiter took our order and took a while to return, but when he did it was all worth it. The tonic drinks were served in a very tall glass (correctly, according to the RB) with ice and likker in place. The tonic came in a little glass pitcher, one for each drink, and some portion was added, while the rest was left if we wanted to water the drink a bit more. Which I did, and Brandon did as well. We were also provided with a nut and crunch sort of bar mix, which was very tasty and met everyone's approval.

We drank and chatted, but I can't give away many of the details, as I don't want to cross the Russian Baroness. She's a very dangerous woman, and it's best to let her alone, so I shall. She's also charming and funny, but I have to say that Bridgit's Mom, who was having a birthday, is at least her equal, and that we had a truly wonderful time.

The two of them decided to co-sponsor the evening, and so Bridgit's Mom (BM) and the Russian Baroness (RB) picked up their first sponsorship. The drinks were pretty pricey, but the Garden was that sort of place, the most expensive looking hotel bar we've been in. Plants were everywhere, and the air was cool and humid, but not quite damp. Refreshing without being ruinous. We were at a little coffee table with chairs and a small couch around it. The napkins, I should note, were textured cocktail napkins, totally disposable, but feeling as if they weren't.

It was a nice place, and I thank the RB for finding it, and the BM/RB combo for the sponsorship. But it was only the beginning (or the middle, if you count the unfortunate events that started us off.)

Was it the same bar? Was it a different bar? It's part of the Four Seasons, we think, but neither bar we'd been to (counting this one) was listed, so there was no way to know. So we counted it. And it was notably different, so it'll do.

We walked right in and sat at a table, but the waiter person told us to wait a moment and he'd have it cleared and wiped (because it needed it) so we did, and he did. A group from the bar proper was seated at another table with silverware and such being set for them, and we were momentarily concerned that we had taken someone's table, but then we sensibly decided that we didn't give a fuck, and got on with our lives.

There were menus brought for the almost entirely seafood based restaurant. I think there was one item on the normal menu Bridgit could have eaten. Instead, Brandon and BM ordered crab bruschetta, while the rest of us were more than satisfied with a totally liquid diet.

Drinks arrived, more talk was had, the food arrived and looked both good and odd (chunks of crab and parmesan on top of nicely toasted bread just look strange) and we nibbled and drank, as appropriate, for some time. There was talk of hitting someplace else, and eventually we decided it would be a lovely thought to pick up the Dilettante on Cap Hill, because dessert was definitely in order, and there was none to be had that we liked the look of.

So after the BM/RB pair picked up another sponsorship (thanks Mom, thanks Baroness) we moved on into the night to find that last bar of the evening.

What a nice big number.

I know I'm right in the middle of a night, but at least I've got your attention, and you can see that I'm announcing a new hundred event.

We're doing Bar 500 this Monday, at Chop Suey on Cap Hill, at about 9 pm. They normally have a cover, but there's a very prominent "Free" on this day in the Stranger, and we like the Stranger, so we'll believe them. There's some kind of bands playing, about which we know nothing and care almost less, because there's drink, and a club, and probably some form of smoky, entertaining goodness. The bar is on Madison, somewhere about 13th to 15th and Madison.

So be there as we hit the last of the hundred type bars (because we're almost done and there won't be any 600, thank whatever god you might believe in) and drink the night away.

Doors open at about 9 pm, and we'll be there about then. There should be some drinky goodness, and maybe another bar after, who can say?

Now back to your regularly read bar reviews.

Who can go wrong with chocolate?

No one. But I went wrong at Dilettante.

Anyway, the five of us arrived to this late night sugar rush palace wanting dessert. That there had been no real dinner was immaterial. There was chocolate to be had, and although Bridgit's Mom had been here twice in the last week, a third visit was nothing to be scoffed at.

We all had desserts (I shared a delectable and rich chocolate cake kind of thing with Bridgit) and we all had some of their very small selection of alcoholic specialty drinks.

Should we even have counted them? Who cares, they have lots of chocolate!

Unfortunately, I chose a Peach Schnapps Milkshake. It kind of sucked ass. Don't ever get it. Ever.

Other than that, it was a lovely stop. Chocolate desserts of all sorts are available, along with other, non-chocolate desserts in smaller quantities. Brandon and BM had a lovely talk, Bridgit and I talked much about Europe, and the RB was charming to all.

And then we were all done with as much of the sugar rush as we could deal with, the drinks were all slurped down, and the sponsorship was claimed by the BM/RB team, a truly enchanting and lovely partnership.

With vague and eventually unsuccessful plans to go back to Canlis the following week, we parted, stuffed and heavier but much happier to have had such a lovely night out.

Type: Nightspot
Class: Dive

Upstairs Swannie’s is a low rent little bar with wooden tables that have been heavily carved into by bored patrons and a low class crowd. The waitress was sitting as the flirting bar reading a paper and looked at us with a heavily bored expression. Sean asked about a friend of his that worked there and the waitress said that she w