Zippy's Fulfills My Dream for West Seattle

They had me the minute I saw the used Dog-n-Suds wrapper framed on the wall. After seeing their "Sorry we ran out of food" sign on Sunday, I was doubly eager to try Zippy's Burger, the new burger joint on West Seattle's east side. "Burger joint" has been on the top of my list of community needs since I moved to this not-quite-an-island.

A standard Zip burger is char-grilled quarter pounder, cheese, a tangy 1000 island-like secret sauce, plenty of onion and tomato for $4.75. Come again? Yes I will. I am a connoisseur of burger stands, and ZIppy's is conveniently on the way to my studio. The service is super sweet, and the woman working the counter is a neighbor. I get the feeling after two visits—you're a regular as far as she's concerned.

I waited, guzzling a Gray's root beer (all the way from Janesville, Wisconsin, tasted just like childhood). The burger joint (can it be a stand, if it's in a building?) has eight root beers, and 25 sodas total, all made with cane sugar. The owners hope to amass an even larger root beer collection in the coming months. Boatloads of root beer trumps a milkshake, agreed?

I'm only going to say this one last time: There is money to be made for a smart, simple business (cough good espresso cough) in West Seattle SOUTH of the Junction and EAST of 35th. We may have far less strollers and Labradors per household, but we're hard working, dual income people who are starving and thirsty.

Bless you Zippy. Bless you and your special sauce.

Zippy's Burgers
1513 SW Holden St.
Mon-Thu 10:30am to 9:00pm
Fri 10:30am to 10:00pm
Sat 11:00am to 10:00pm
Sun noon to 7:00pm

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (4)

Early Returns: The Remodeled Virginia Inn

The new Virginia Inn looks about the same as the old Virginia Inn, except it's now twice as big and has a full kitchen. The Muffaletta sandwich, which ranks among my very favorite sandwiches of any ilk in town, seemed to have twice as much meat in it, and the potato chips were fresh-baked instead of Tim's Cascades. Muy bien.

But much to my chagrin, I still waited fucking forever for my sandwich. Granted the place was hopping and they just restarted lunch service, but still — isn't this what the expanded kitchen was supposed to help solve? Anyhoo, my chagrin turned to contentment when, acknowledging my unusually long wait, the bartender comped my sandwich without my asking for such consideration. This is about the only way to turn such a frown upside down, and the bartender handled it perfectly (and was tipped handsomely for his concession). Because of him, I'll be back for more Muff. Repeatedly.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (0)

Thai 65: Roach Free Food Downtown?

Apparently you just can't come back after inspectors find cockroaches ambling across the cooked vegetables bound for customers' curries and swimming rama. At least that's the lesson of Cilantro. In December, the PI reported that the cheap Thai joint at 1st and Marion downtown had the third highest number of food inspection violations in the city. At the time of the story, it was still open (and I had stopped ordering pick-up lunches). But walking past the location on Saturday evening coming off the Bainbridge Island ferry, saw that the place has been redone and is now called Thai 65. Here's hoping they keep the bugs away.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (1)

"Organic To Go": No Go

I'd wandered into one of the Organic To Go delis once before, and was so underwhelmed at the collection of drab, expensive pre-made stuff that I just walked away. Yesterday I needed something for the road and succumbed. Mind you, this Seattle-based chain is apparently doing well for itself. It recently got an infusion of $12 million in private investment to fuel its growth. It's got locations in LA and San Diego. But geez, what a crappy sandwich. My Roast Turkey w/Dill Havarti (don't tell the rabbis) was soggy and tasteless. The tomato slice was like a rubber coaster. There was way too much "vegenaise." (And I'm not one of those for whom ANY amount of "vegenaise" is too much.) Maybe that's just what you get without nitrates, preservatives and the like. I did like the cute little triangular house it came in. Maybe the catering's better...?

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (3)

All U Can Eat: Basghetti-n-Meatballs!

My column this Wednesday is about Sicily's hot, juicy red wine, Nero d'Avola. If you don't have any dinner plans tonight, the best Nero d'Avola pairing in town happens on Monday nights at Calamity Jane's in Georgetown...

All You Can Eat Spaghetti, for $7.54. Add meatballs for $1.14 each (pork AND beef, so tender!), and a bottle of Villa Tonino Nero d'Avola for an extra $15. Now that's Italian, but Calamity Jane's doesn't just offer tongue-in-cheek kitsch food. This place specializes in regional, roadside standbys, including that homey, endangered concept: the nightly dinner special. Those of us from the Midwest are suckers for theme nights at the family tavern. Pop in here on a Monday, Wednesday (meatloaf) or Friday (NY steak), and you will be too.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (0)

Candy? Or fruit?

Has anyone tried the Grapple, the apple infused with as much artificial grape flavor as a pack of BubbleYum? It creeps me out. But so does this Ambrosia apple, which I bought yesterday at Madison Market, having never tasted one before.

I mean, it's organic. The label says so. And the Internet says the fruit is an all-natural genetic variation discovered on a farm in British Columbia. But to me, this crisp, practically acid-free apple tastes like bubble gum ice cream. I couldn't eat another bite. Ergo: Kids should love it.

Bonus question: Ever eaten a Rambo apple? It should sue Stallone for copyright infringement.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (2)

Happy Ash Wednesday!

Humboldt Fog is probably the best known American, artisan cheese that employs ash. There is no butterfat quite as beautiful as a thick slice of weeping Humboldt Fog, forming two rivers of oozing cheese on either side of a thin line of ash. The ash lends a little more flavor as the cheese ages. I've always seen it more of a booster than possessing any specific flavor itself. Back in the day, the ash—usually from the hearth—helped preserve the cheese and acted as bug repellent. Now, it's more a style choice and a nod to some of the traditional cheese making.

Larzac from Monteillet - Definitely an homage to some of the ash coated goat cheeses of France, this is a creamy, cakey goat cheese that plucks all the various hot spots on your tongue—sweet, delightfully sour, and a wee salty. This cheese is probably easier to find during farmers' market season (try Ballard on Sundays). Pro move: Ask for one with a little age to it. And please do yourself a favor and try a fine goat cheese such as this with prunes, one of the best food/cheese match ups. (or better yet, open a quality Zinfandel)

Quillisascut Ash Tomme - This little cheese looks like a big ashy JuJu Bee with a squished top and is very firm and cakey when cut. It has one of the sweetest overtones you'll find for this type of tangy cheese and pairs very well with apricot or quince or even bitter marmalade—it marries so well with the bright, acidity.

Seastack from Mt Townsend Creamery - A half pound little fireplug of bloom and ash (cow's milk). Leave it out on a counter to come to room temperature, remove the top and use a suitably delicious baguette to scoop. The word "sea" is a great way to remember that this cheese has a pronounced salty flavor. Barely registering on the funk-o-meter, it still has enough intriguing flavor for someone into the challenging stuff. And it's not so stinky that you can't take it on a train, or in a plane.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (0)

Why I Had to Hit Four Different Places for Lunch

All I wanted was a salad.

Stop 1: The Virginia Inn — I'll take the blame here. I should have completed my homework. I knew the Inn kids were making some changes. I'd even heard expanding the kitchen, and a few renovations. I forgot that The Virgina Inn will be closed till spring. At least a couple grunts inside got a few good-natured chuckles as my saddened gaze through the window.

Stop 2: The Athenian — This is my favorite place to go for lunch. And I hit it up at least three or four times a month. It's never been about the food (meh), or the service (spotty at best). The view of Elliot bay and the 100-year-old (right?) atmosphere make it for me. I love it on cold, rainy days like today. BUT, when I was greeted at the door, I was, for the first time in my history of visits, offered a seat at the bar of the virtually empty restaurant. "Can I sit upstairs (in one of the empty tables with views)?" I asked. "No," he said rather coldly. "We're closed upstairs." Turns out they're now closing the upstairs when it's not very busy. I told him I didn't feel like sitting at the bar, and he showed me the door.

Look, I can appreciate what you're trying to do. Maybe if you don't have so much ground to cover, customers will get better service. (Though, I've always thought the mini water glasses and slow service added to the experience.) But, play to your strengths here. Keep your good seating open, the one with the views of the sound, not the grill.

Stop 3: Sound View Cafe: Like I said, all I wanted was a salad. And by the time I got to Sound View, all this walking around had made my fat ass tired. So, how disappointed was I to discover that you have to serve yourself your salad, and bus your own table. I don't mind doing either, but I'd rather I be at home when I do it. You feel me?

To add insult to injury, the only protein in the salad came in the form of the most over-boiled egg I've ever had. AND, there was a small piece of paper in my salad. Oh, shit, it was probably a Kleenex.

Stop Four: I Love New York Deli — I love this place for two reasons: corned beef and pastrami. Having been denied protein at the most unsatisfying lunch experience of my life, I stopped in for a few slivers of corned beef. It was, of course, wonderful. Almost made my mid-meal quest worth the trouble.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (2)

I Ate Here: Port Townsend

My companion and I spent the weekend in Port Townsend (aka "Pete Townsend"), home to an intriguing mix of sailors, skaters, hippies, yuppies, and divorcees. As tends to happen on mini-vacations, I ate a lot, and figured I'd mention a couple of the dishes in Pete Townsend that are worth a munch should you choose to board the ferry there. First, there were the fried cheese medallions at Water Street Brewing downtown, formerly known as the place (not to be confused with TJ's Bar, pictured above) Dicky Gere walked out of in his "ice cream suit" in An Officer and a Gentleman before tae-kwon-doing the living snot out of a few townie instigators who were jealous of his prowess with the ladies. These medallions are exactly the same as homemade mozarella sticks, only rounder. And better.

Uptown, where the vibe is more Madison Park, we dined at the Wild Coho, a tiny, exquisite bistro with Seattle ties that buys all its ingredients from local farmers. The pepper crusted hangar steak and lamb sirloin with mint relish rival the best dishes Seattle has to offer. If Pete Townsend is to become a dining destination, the Wild Coho is to be its anchor.

Topics: Eats report

Permalink | Comments (2)

Unicorn Crepes

Yes, it is a fantasy. At Unicorn Crepes, the sweet new shop now open in the International District, you can binge on a crepe and ogle a good-sized Kappabashi-dori-style plastic food display at the same time.

Don't come here for Nutella; Unicorn doesn't serve your run-of-the-mill Parisian varieties. Here, you'll get your (really tasty) crepe rolled neatly into a peel-away paper cone that you'll eat like an ice cream cone, twirling the paper down as you bite into what just might qualify as fusion crepes:

I say fusion, because the combinations are staggering for someone who has spent a good many nights stumbling toward a crepe stand in Paris.

Strawberries and cream in a crepe cone? Fine. My #12a, "banana custard choco whip" crepe, with a delightfully gooey, soft combination of ripe bananas, organic housemade custard (yum), and what tasted an awful lot like Hershey's syrup? Sure, I can see France in that. The chocolate might make a Frenchie cringe, but I enjoyed it.

But this?

Yes, Unicorn also sells chili cheese hot dog crepes (fusion between French and nasty?), terikayi cheese chicken salad crepes (in a cone, remember), and pizza crepes (wait, it's a French calzone!). Strangely, the potato salad crepe sounded really good to me.

When I asked the nice folks behind the counter about the unicorn thing (their sign isn't up yet outside, but there's a nice insignia of a unicorn dancing in the hollow of a quarter moon on their menu), they said unicorns represent good fortune and peace, and are especially important symbols for women and girls (who they see as their main customer base "because women like sweets.") I'd like to argue, but I can't, really. I totally had a stuffed purple unicorn until . . .wait, I might still have it.

My only question: Why didn't they called it Unicone Crepes?

Unicorn Crepes, 421 6th Ave. S. (at King St.), 652-0637. INTERNATIONAL DISTRICT

Open Mon. - Sat. 11:30 a.m. - 8 p.m., Sun. 12 - 6 p.m. Closed Tuesdays.

Topics: Eats report and News

Permalink | Comments (1)