One of my favorite fantasies, after a particular trifecta of nastiness like I've had lately, is to picture myself leaving work, driving the airport, flying to Seattle, and spending a weekend going to old favorite haunts and breathing deeply of the home of my heart. Oh I wish.
One of my favorite places to go in Seattle was the Red Door in Fremont. It was one of the first places I ever went to taste "good beer" and it remained a go-to kind of place for me the whole time I lived there. Unfortunately, after the earthquake in the early 2000s (was it 2002?), the original building was damaged and the Red Door moved to a new location a few blocks away. I haven't been to the new one - it wasn't open yet when I visited the first time after the earthquake and we didn't go there for some reason when Sean and I visited in 2010. Fremont itself was (and I believe still is) a very cool neighborhood in Seattle. Funky shops and artists...that sort of thing. Right up my alley, even though I am neither funky nor artistic. Come as you are and fit right in no matter your personal style. Love it. I miss it.
Can I have a Widmer Hefeweizen please?
Last summer I did a solitary road trip to Portland, Oregon. I stayed with a cousin that I hadn't seen in, easily, 35 years. We went to this very cool little neighborhood and listened to sweet original music at a place called something with Artichoke in it -- Artichoke Cafe? YOur description of the Red Door reminds me of that trip. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking of running away myself lately. No specific destination comes to mind--other than near the ocean and AWAY from here. ;)
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