A friend was in town for training for a few weeks, so I invited him over for brunch. Well, maybe, brunch, and then a trip to Pike Place Market. Maybe with a dispensary run on the way home. Well… dinner’s happening, too, and you’re invited.
He was feeling really down the night before, because the part of town he ended up in for training is super tedious to get into and out of. Though it looks like it should be pretty easy to get places, somehow all routes are hard. He had a solid case of the blues, and he was feeling pretty isolated. I invited him to brunch at one something in the morning… just in time for him to wake up and wonder if he should ask me where he could get some pancakes. Apparently my timing’s good. In any event I suggested the Five Point Café and, uh, here’s my review of it on Google Maps:
Okay, so The 5 Point is an Establishment. It’s the sort of place that seems like its presence is a fragment of some core, bedrock reality of Seattle that just happens to manifest as the perfect queer dive bar right next to Seattle Center.
Their portions are daunting for the hungriest hungover post-circuit party bear, and their mimosas are potent enough that you had better get a friend to drive if you don’t have a strong constitution.
We, ah, demolished a pitcher of mimosas. It was a fantastic brunch; their french toast was lovely, their sausages are always good, and their pancakes are excellent, plate-sized diner classics. Most of all, though, I have to note that we ended up comparing reviews to the 1-star and 2-star reviews that a friend read. I get the intense feeling that basically all of those reviews are from people who didn’t fully read the sign― they make careful note of how the place is gonna work, and you’re expected to understand the ground rules.
I didn’t really plan the day further; we had talked about some museums down south, but due to WSDOT shutting down the highways and general chaos, we switched up plans and headed up to Pike Place Market instead. This was also when we invited our friend to stay for dinner, too: I’d had the thought to do so before, but didn’t really vocalize it until we were already on the way to the market.
At that point, the market trip gained an actual purpose and direction. The fun thing about doing your normal grocery rounds at Pike Place is, all of these produce stands have the basics: your shallots, your garlic, your potatoes, but those aren’t the major draw for most customers, so they’re pricing them down. The flip side is, their supply chain is shorter and their prices are competitive with the larger groceries, so you’re getting fresher stuff at the same prices.
Plus, it was fun to buy a pound of shallots. I got a very quizzical response from the woman who was helping me―after all, shallots are usually bought a few at a time. It was around this time that I had an actual idea forming in my mind to serve for dinner–a version of my weekend braise. A chuck roast braised with shallots and potato, then the braising liquid reduced for gravy. I got some little multi-colored potatoes, used potato starch as the thickening agent for the gravy (it was far superior to flour, it’s my new go-to.)
We meandered the market some more, and then took a fairly circuitous route home that left my friend absolutely winded the next day. Oops.
Once everything was in the oven, I thought to check for some sort of bread product… and had to run over to the store to stock up. I haven’t yet run to the store actually still wearing my apron, but one of these days I should just for the laugh.
In the end, dinner was fantastic and a damn sight better than the frozen entrée he’d been planning to eat.