First thing: I didn’t photograph everything we ate, despite the fact that I’m (technically) a millennial (but I’m an old millennial, which is another post). Sometimes I don’t want to be “that one” when we go out, especially considering the circumstances of this trip, and also because I have a cheap phone so it’s not like the picture quality is good or anything—and I definitely don’t want to be the one whipping out a full-sized camera to photograph everything in a definitely not posed at all way that’s just flawlessly composed and incidentally aesthetically pleasing somehow. (Okay, I do kind of want that, but it conflicts with the whole “aspiring shut-in” thing I have going on.)
Samurai Noodle is a tiny little ramen shop in the International District, with maybe 5 tables in the place. It survives because the food is amazing and because the kitchen also serves at the Uwajimaya food court.
Finding out that you can eat tofu chilled and sliced was kind of a revelation for me, even though that probably should have been obvious. S/o said the ramen at this place is the best they’ve had outside of Japan (and that recommendation comes from a not-Japanese person who grew up in Japan and spent enough of their life there to consider it home).
Banh Town: Vietnamese Street Food
I love Vietnamese food. I love Vietnamese coffee. This place was so good.
I’ve been trying to replicate the flavors without being true to the recipes at all, and the closest I’ve gotten is (this is weird) spicy Italian sausage sliced over an Asian salad kit with lots of cilantro in it. Note that I’m really fucking lazy about food on the day-to-day, and also pretty broke lately, so I stick to what’s fast and cheap—but no takeaway because that is a garbage situation to get into. However. If there was anything like this place near where I live, I would be even more broke because I love this shit and I wouldn’t even try to resist.
Ivar’s Fish Bar
Ivar’s is this weird retroactive nostalgia food for me. I don’t remember going there as a kid, and I haven’t been there frequently, so I have no idea where the feeling comes from.
The first time I remember going was when I was in Seattle for the summer when I was 15, and I’ve gone every time I’ve been back since—secretly waiting for the day when one of those fat fucking seagulls (they feed on the greasy handouts of well-meaning tourists, with obvious consequences) mistakes a child’s fingers for french fries (BIRDEMIC 2: WATERFRONT BOOGALOO*).
The best meal I had might have been the night I stayed over with my dad (but I admit my bias). I took a box of mochi because mochi is good, and we had dinner and lavender lemonade and went on a walk around the neighborhood. And I got to spend some quality time with his cat, trying not to get bitten (she is a bitey demoness).
I love you, Seattle. See you again someday soon. <3
*Someone with connections please pitch that to The Asylum for me, and let them know I can have the script written within 24 hours. ;P