After a short, few-minute walk, following the shadow of the monorail along upper fifth, until we reached Denny Way, we came upon a little, tucked away, cobblestone square featuring a small fountain of four bear heads on each side of a square pedestal, whereupon a life-size statue of Chief Seattle greeted us with an outstretched copper arm. Alongside the tree covered plaza was a Thai restaurant, a dive bar (noted for it's Men's restroom, where you can see the Space Needle through a periscope-like device, while standing and relieving oneself,) a taco shop, the café, a hair salon (where my mother used to date the owner back in the early 80's,) and a pizzeria.
Upon entering the café I noticed an older couple by the door having their mimosas replenished (hmm, looks like my kind of place, I thought to myself.) We were greeted by a brigade of bright smiles as the door softly shut behind us and, with much alacrity, were swiftly seated to a cozy, corner table. We sat in the elbow of a long, caramel-colored, sumptuous leather booth, where we had an advantageous view of the adorable dining room and it's various patrons.
A table of twenty-something New Yorkers sat on one side of us, a pair of Canadian Victorians on the other, beyond them, a mother and her young son, who held his cup of hot chocolate as if it were a cappuccino; also present were several pairs of couples, some looking as if they had just met the night before, other's as if they'd known each other for half their life, such as the couple by the door, each reading a section of the newspaper and switching from mimosas to just plain bubbly.
The dining room was bright, with whitewashed walls, punctuated with a bit of exposed brick behind the bar, and a minimal amount of woodwork, such as the mid-weight timbers that supported the high ceilings and framed the higher, small-paned windows. The honey-colored wood floor was composed of rather short boards and lain at an angle to form a lovely herringbone pattern.
The room itself was simple in decoration, with a few strong, key elements; a few pairs of candle-like sconces, a large ornate mirror, some larger vintage-feeling pieces of art and along the walls directly above the L-shaped soft leather booth was a border of a collection of various postcards, lending a whimsical touch to the clean space. Memories of a friend's birthday brunch, a few years back, at Balthazar in SoHo surfaced in my mind.
The menu, European-inspired, much of it French in origin, had me salivating before I was even halfway through perusing it. After a cup of our table-side, French press coffee and a small glass of in-house, fresh squeezed, orange juice I was able to focus and make a decision: the house-cured smoked salmon Benedict. (Mmmm!) My friend choose a baked egg dish with ratatouille that arrived in its own petite, cast iron skillet. We savored each and every bite; brunching for hours, observing the coming-and-goings of fellow patrons and continuing to marvel at our newly discovered neighborhood gem.
We concluded the morning a candle-topped, jasmine tapioca pudding, (Mmmm, again!) which was presented to me with yet, another round of "Happy Birthday" by our beaming waitress. Indeed, it was a very happy birthday brunch--very happy (Thank you GM!)
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