Capitol Hill

CAPITOL HILL

I have a love/hate relationship with Capitol Hill. I love that it's the most diverse part of Seattle, in race and mood. I love that you can walk almost anywhere and run into good bars, loud music, and people with their inner children in full rage. The Hill has its drawbacks as well: The ennui-hipster crowd that prowls Broadway (and Pike and Pine) I could do without (along with sundry Microsofties and the three QFCs and the two Safeways). Also, I could live a more beatific existence without many of the neighborhood's awful restaurants—consider, dear reader, how much more livable the neighborhood would be without the row of Thai restaurants on 15th Avenue East. This is a sophisticated, gastronomically aware part of town, and yet, too often, one's dining options are drek. The happy flip side is that two of Seattle's best restaurants are located in these precincts, namely, the classically French Cassis and the Vietnamese food pushed through an Escoffier frontal lobe at Monsoon (interestingly, neither is on the Broadway corridor). Those are the high points. Just beneath them are a slew of restaurants catering to every taste in the book, catering to it quite well, and all luckily within walking distance of one another. Philip Dawdy

Aoki

Bento boxes–cum–sushi bars are often disappointing in Seattle, bland being their distinguishing trait. Bland is not in force at Aoki; the sushi is consistently high quality, the hand rolls delicate and powerful, the prices about average. On the bento side, all the teriyaki dishes—the beef, the salmon—and tempuras that Japanese cuisine is heir to are as solid here as they are in San Francisco's Japantown, and you don't have to put up with as many pushy dot-commers, either. P.D.

621 Broadway Ave. E., 206-324-3633. $

Café Septième

Why focus on the peeling red paint? Septième's decor may bespeak fallen grandeur, but the sandwiches, salads, and seafood sing a different tune, especially at lunch. You can almost hear the waves lapping against the Riviera coast as you sip water with lemon, make a dainty midday meal of beet salad and an albacore tuna melt, and gaze longingly at the dessert case—or at the better-than-reality show that is Broadway. In the evening, engaging fish specials (like salmon with spicy Israeli couscous) and elegant pastas demonstrate Septième's range. Of course, the challenge of saving room for German chocolate cake—rich, authentic, and practically architectural in scope—is ever present. This pan-Euro spot really enhances its neighborhood; the nightly cake-and-coffee klatsch goes on until most respectable folk are asleep. N.S.

214 Broadway Ave. E., 206-860-8858. $$

Cassis

All you really need to know about this long-standing French standout is that it is the archetype. With its menu of French classics (paté, mussels marinière, an amazing fish soup, calf's liver, roast chicken, the best cassoulet in town, etc.), you could plop Cassis down in San Francisco or New York or Avignon, for that matter, and it'd fit right in. And like any self-respecting country French place, there is a prix-fixe menu (three courses, $28, Sunday to Thursday) and regular specials (cassoulet on Sundays, rabbit on Wednesdays, etc.). Eat it all; it's that good. P.D.

2359 10th Ave. E., 206-329-0580. $$

www.cassisbistro.com

Crave

Not a religion in and of itself, this newcomer to the bustling Cap Hill culinary landscape is more a subsect of a rising cult: upscale comfort food. It's more than welcome at a place like Crave, where what sounds amazing on the menu is even better on the plate. The cheese blintzes, wrapped around a sweet and surprisingly light ricotta filling, make you want to cry— that's how good they are. The lox platter (the menu calls it "miso cured salmon," but c'mon), with its capers, pickled onions, and engine-red plum tomatoes, is like Shabbat brunch upped to the level of modern art. Lunch and dinner kick equal ass: The mac 'n' cheese receives a dignified shiitake-mushroom face-lift, and the goat cheese gnocchi get an autumny boost from duck-breast prosciutto, butternut squash, and dried apricots lavishly glazed with marsala-sage brown butter sauce. If that doesn't make you want to curl up by the fire and dream, I don't know what would. Crave, indeed. N.S.

1621 12th Ave., 206-388-0526. $$

www.cravefood.com

Galerias

All Mexican food is not created equal. You've got your taco carts and your Mexican restaurants where the meat comes from a Sysco can and the salsa is a watery ketchup. And, then, you have the semi-inspired fare of Galerias, which has far more to do with the complex dishes of Oaxaca than the taco carts of Tijuana. Here, the salsa is fresh (always the sign of a place that gives a damn), and the carne asadas and pork tenderloins mated with the right moles. The enchiladas can be made four ways. And it goes on. Our only gripe: Those heavy, metal-bound menus weigh as much as a Cadillac hubcap. P.D.