Restaurant reviews are biased. Yes, you read that correctly. The reviews you’ve read on this website over the past weeks and months, are biased. While I’m no slouch in the kitchen, while I keep up on my culinary skills, I have no professional expertise. I’m not a chef. So when you read a review, good or bad, you are basically reading my opinion. An opinion, which is tainted with the part of the country where I grew up, the ethnicity of my parents, and my own personal likes and dislikes when it comes to food. While I try to keep an open mind about everything I taste, I have to admit my mind is colored with past meals that have, to me, defined a dish. So it is with Fish & Chips. Especially when an establishment, such as The Pacific Inn, claims to have Seattle’s best.

Let’s start with the restaurant itself. I’m using some heavy artistic license here because The Pacific Inn is less a restaurant and more a fixture. A fixture that grew out of the sidewalk at the corner Stone Way and 35th Street, it seems utterly ancient. And while I’m sure there are older buildings in the area, you’d be hard pressed to convince me so. It is a hard place with dirty walls, wobbly booths and tar stained windows from a time when smoking was allowed in restaurants in Seattle. But I came for one reason, and one reason only. No matter whom I asked or what I read, everything and everyone pointed me to The Pacific Inn as having the best Fish & Chips ($6.99) in Seattle.

The three fish filets that arrived (When they finally did arrive) looked delicious enough. A golden brown crust studded with chopped herbs and what appeared to be bits of panko breadcrumbs. Here is where my bias comes into play. To me fish & chips should be made with a beer batter, not breadcrumbs. The seasoning should be; a little salt and maybe pepper. What is it with adding herbs to the crust? Let the flavor of the fish stand on its own. Well, after one bite I realized that they couldn’t do that. The fish, while flaky, was dry and flavorless. The only real flavor came after a liberal squirt of lemon and a healthy dip into tartar sauce. The “chips” were a little better. Not the limp, soggy fries one normally gets but crisp and fluffy, although definitely not fresh made.

Was this the best of Seattle, really? I choose to disagree. To my way of thinking fish & chips should be large, fat planks of Cod. Fresh, juicy bits of fish that have been dunked into a beer batter, quickly fried and salted and served in newspaper with crispy fries. What I found at The Pacific Inn was nothing more than a pale shadow of what this meal could have been. My advice is to take a short trip to The George & Dragon Pub for your fish & chips. But of course, that’s my opinion.

You never have to worry about going hungry in Seattle, for the most part. In nearly every neighborhood one has a wide array of culinary options before them. From Thai, American, Chinese, Japanese, European or Ethiopian, Seattle neighborhoods offer a cornucopia of eateries from which to choose. With the one exception being the South Lake Union area. Having only a smattering of restaurants lining the Southern lakeshore and three or four dotting the blocks South, this part of town is more of a transit hub shuttling people through to destinations with more offerings. And if you are unlucky enough to work in this area what do you do if you want lunch but don’t feel like driving into downtown, up the hill to Capitol Hill or over to one of the other neighborhoods? Likely you bring a lunch or you settle for a sandwich from Subway ™. I was with this in mind, and because I was meeting a friend who works nearby, that I decided to try Paddy Coyne’s.

It was evening when I gave Paddy Coyne’s a try, their happy hour just beginning. An Irish themed establishment, stuffed into a smallish space, dark wood paneling and slightly worn furniture tries to give the space a feel of an old country tavern. For the most part though it just seems small and corporate. On the plus side there are huge floor to ceiling windows on one side of the restaurant allowing in ample afternoon sun and an outside patio area. I settled in at my table, perused the menu and decided to stick with the theme of the restaurant and ordered the Guinness Braised Irish Beef Stew ($8.50).

A large, steaming bowl arrived at my table filled with a stew smelling of thyme and potatoes with large bits of beef lounging in the broth. I grabbed my spoon and with the first bite was reassured of the use of thyme in the cooking process. Fresh and heady it assaulted my senses but not so powerfully as to drown out the richness of the overall broth. Swimming with bits of celery and onion this broth had a definite peppery kick to it. As for the other ingredients, the potatoes were just barely cooked through, almost a little underdone but the carrots were tooth tender. I would have thought that the beef stew would have come out of a can but the freshness of the root vegetables proved that unfounded. Plus the bits of beef told a story of being made from scratch. How do I know this? Having had my share of Dinty Moore ™ after moving out on my own, I recognize the reconstituted, bland meat of canned products. No, the meat in this stew was tender but still had fatty and gristly bits. This was not a plus but merely a way by which to tell that all the ingredients were assembled locally for this menu.

While I think that Paddy Coyne’s is probably aiming for the after work crowd with its happy hour and faux-Irish setting, grabbing a bite to eat there is not a bad thing. The South Lake Union area can be a bit of a black hole in the restaurant department but hopefully owners of restaurants like Paddy Coyne’s will see the opportunities that lay before them in such an area. With such efforts perhaps the South Lake Union area can be filled in as another of Seattle’s neighborhood destinations.

Being from Florida, after first moving here, I was told that Seattle weather is much like the weather in England. Winters are dark and grey with very little sunshine and it rains, a lot. Having never been to England I cannot confirm or deny this. But I can say that on some rainy winter days in Seattle I like to pretend that I am in England. What better way to promote this belief than by stopping in at self-proclaimed, “Seattle’s only authentic English Pub”, The George & Dragon Pub?

The interior is fairly large for the small exterior footprint, two seating areas on either side of a central bar area, designed with a Tudor style interior of white plaster walls and exposed wood beams. I choose a seat at the bar where I could watch the soccer game from one of four TVs (Two big screens on either side of the building and two smaller screens behind the bar, up high, to allow an unobstructed view for those patrons on bar stools). The bar area was fairly busy but I was served quickly. I tried to get a feel for how quickly the one bartender/server was able to get to the individual tables, and while they seemed to be taken care of, I could imagine that in busier times there could be some lag in getting served.

Along with a pint I put in an order for Fish and Chips ($8.00) and Shepherd’s Pie ($6.75). I had taken a few sips of my beer when one of the cooks came from the back with my food – that was quick. I began to wonder if the quality would suffer. I tried the fish and chips first. I had tried fish and chips at another establishment in Fremont and was quite disappointed in the results, here I was hoping that an authentic English pub would provide a better product, and they did. The fish was lightly battered with a crunch to the crust but with a tender, flakey interior. My assumption is that the fish was Cod and was fresh as it had no fishy aroma to it and was still moist with a slightly briny flavor. A little squeeze of lemon (provided) and this fish was perfect the way it was. The fries left a little to be desired, though to be honest I am more of a fan of crispy, “twice cooked” fries. So I won’t harp too much on that subject.

The other order was shepherd’s pie. I can remember having had this a couple of times growing up and each time it was alright, nothing too memorable. As for the shepherd’s pie at The George & Dragon, well, I would have to give it the same review. Not a horrible meal, the thick, melted, cheesy crust was very good and the sauce that the ground beef was in was very tasty. But the mashed potatoes were bland and tasted of boxed, “potato flake” potatoes and the few peas (I’m used to both peas and carrots in shepherd’s pie) I did find were dry and shriveled. Along with the pie came baguette toasts and butter, this helped to overcome some of the faults of the dish but overall, I think I will pass on this dish the next time.

So was this the real deal? Does George & Dragon live up to its title of “Seattle’s only authentic English Pub”? Well, I was able to suspend by belief and I almost pictured myself in merry old England. Even with some of my misgivings about the shepherd’s pie, the food was very good. As for where to go when I’m in the mood for fish and chips, well, there’s no doubt where you’ll find me.

Once again winter is upon us in Seattle and this means dark, chilly, grey and rainy days. When the weather turns this way I turn to food - warm, satisfying, fulfilling food. It was on just such a day, a couple of days before Christmas, that A and I decided to go out into the rain to try Old Town Alehouse in Ballard.

Old Town is a perfect name for this restaurant/bar. Like many of the shops and restaurants in Ballard, Old Town is tucked into an older building with wood floors, exposed brick and subdued lighting. As it turns out the building where Old Town resides has been some sort of bar for its entire 104 year history. We walked through the door just after 1pm and had our choice of seats at the bar or one of the many tables. Finding a good spot in the middle of the restaurant A and I sat down and began perusing the menu.

We were waited on promptly and our drinks came out in short order. Old Town focuses on easy foods with no pretension and that is a definite plus for lunchtime. A list of appetizers, some soups, salads, a few pasta dishes, two entrees and an extensive list of sandwiches (which they call ‘wedges’) round out their food offerings. With so many choices we both decided on the Ballard Beef Dip ($8.95).

What arrived were bolo rolls piled with thinly sliced roast beef, thick slices of plum tomato, smoked provolone and a generous layer of a cherry pepper and olive tapenade. On mine I opted to keep the horseradish but A decided to delete it on her sandwich. I think leaving the horseradish off was a wise choice as dipping the sandwich into the provided garlic jus made for a somewhat messy eating experience. But flavorful indeed was this sandwich. The meat had a nice beefy flavor that was complemented by the garlicky jus and the bite from the cherry peppers. In my opinion the bolo rolls should have been toasted as it was a tad cold and spongy. It was readily apparent that the bread, in its standard state, didn’t have the structure to hold up to the flavorful jus. While the bread was a slight disappointment I found that the sandwich, as a whole, was a winner. Add to that the “Alehouse Fries” that came with the sandwich, wonderfully tasty shoestring fries with parmesan cheese and spices sprinkled all over them, and you have a lunchtime meal that warms the body on such a dreary day.

Finding a spot from which to escape the cold and rain will always be top priority for me. With what I’ve seen of Old Town, I know that I’ll always have someplace to go in Ballard to enjoy a good meal, a couple of drinks and some great conversation. What better way to keep warm and cozy?

I’m from the South. When it comes to barbeque, I know a thing or two. I’ve eaten at chain restaurants, nice mom & pop joints and even hole-in-the-wall stands. From Florida to Virginia and out West to Kansas City. While I may not be the world’s best expert, I know what to expect from tasty barbequed treats. Now, I realize that the Pacific Northwest is not known for its skill with slow cooked, hickory smoked meats but I was willing to give a chance to High Dive, Fremont’s recently redesigned bar (Formerly Suite G). I chose High Dive because I walk past it every day and what better place to put a barbeque restaurant for a displaced Southerner. Little did I know I was about to be extremely disappointed.

I ordered a beer along with a Pulled Pork Sandwich ($9.75). It arrived quickly and first looks held a lot of promise. But never judge a book by its cover. My first clue that High Dive knew nothing about barbeque was the froufrou bun the pork came on. It was reminiscent of a chibatta roll. Slightly dusty with flour on the crust, a soft texture with lots of large air pockets inside, “this was not going to stand up to a pile of juicy meat”, I thought. Most sandwiches you get in the South come on a toasted version of a hamburger bun and for good reason. Add a bunch of meaty juices, some sauce and if you don’t have a substantial bun, you’re in for trouble. After getting over my disappointment in the choice of bread I turned to the meat itself. Let me say this, while roasting has some similarities to barbequing (They both tend to cook the meats for a long time at a low temperature), it is not a substitute for a wood smoke fire. The meat itself was fairly bland, no smokiness, no pink tinge but it was tender and fairly well shredded. This of course was the meat in the middle of the pile I received, the meat that was not drowning in sauce.

Good barbeque should always be able to stand up without the need for sauce. A sauce is just “icing on the cake” as it were, for good meat. Well, the sauce that High Dive serves actually has more in common with icing than it does with real barbeque sauce. Candy sweet it overpowered any other flavors that may have been present in the sandwich. I couldn’t quite place it but the closest flavor I can compare it to is Asian sweet and sour sauce. This “barbeque sauce” has no place on any respectable pulled pork sandwich. The one redeeming aspect of my meal? The beer battered fries. Order them by themselves, with spicy ranch. They are awesome!

So was it too much for me to ask for a bar in Seattle to serve authentic barbeque? I say, “Yes and no.” I realize that the owners, cooks and bartenders of High Dive have probably never even been to the South, much less eaten real barbeque. But there are so many books, shows and websites dedicated to the proper preparation that there really is no excuse to serve lukewarm, bland meat swimming in a tooth-rottingly sweet sauce. Stick to the bar snacks and stop trying to have a theme.