Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Tour by Curly: Top Pot, Truffle Fries and The Dahlia Bakery

My sister and niece arrived Friday, in Seattle, so that we could then all drive up to Vancouver (so that my sister and I could play in a hockey tournament in which our first game was 11pm that night). Oof. But they did it, and Curly and I picked their tired, hungry persons up from the airport.

Curly was not going to school- she goes to afternoon preschool and we had to leave in the early afternoon, in hopes of escaping miserable traffic (our hopes: dashed. Hard.). So we had a little time. Curly and I decided to give them a mini-tour of Seattle, which of course meant that we had to take them somewhere to eat. I let Curly dictate the terms of the tour, with the instruction that we were going to have to go somewhere with espresso. Her first pick was the Dahlia Bakery (good pick, kid, but, um... no espresso) where she chose eclairs to share with her cousin, brother and aunt. And then… we went to Top Pot.

Pink rainbow sprinkle, Double Troubles and a maple cake (my sister. Weird. I have no idea where the maple-glaze loving comes from, although I have all kinds of snarky theories that would just get me smacked were I to voice them) were dispatched with contentment. And then it was time to pick up my son, and while feeding the younger kids a quick lunch, order sandwiches to have on the road.

Of course, it’s an easy shot from Baguette Box to I-5 North. And I personally find both the drunken chicken sandwich and the chorizo sandwich pretty swoony. And the meatball sandwich. And I have yet to meet a person who does not first scoff that truffle fries are ridiculously trendy and then attack the cup of them with their arm held up to ward off all other possible fry-eaters. The kids chowed on truffle fries with their cousin.

So despite the time constraints, we did give them a pretty tasty little snapshot of fairly unhealthy things we enjoy before we tried to blaze down the road.
There are no pictures of the truffle fries because they don't ever last long enough to get photographed (if, that is, the photographer is hoping to wade into the feeding frenzy and snag some). And there are no pictures of the chorizo sandwich because... I was already eating while driving. Taking a picture of it, too... well, given the traffic we ended up in, it probably would have been perfectly safe. I should never have said anything about my parking karma taking a turn for the better.

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