My sense of weather was so skewed by a year spent in Texas that I didn’t pack a coat when I drove to Seattle. I realized my mistake in Montana, where I bought a boy’s fleece jacket at a Walmart for $1. That’s the coat I wore to my first meal at Canlis, the legendary citadel of civilized service. I still haven’t quite surmounted the shame of seeing a hostess, bent over the fireplace like Quasimodo, clasping my one-buck coat. “I’ll continue warming your coat,” she promised as I walked toward the bathroom. If I’d stayed for another course, she’d probably have knitted me a scarf. HANNA RASKIN 2576 Aurora Ave. N., 283-3313, canlis.com