shellquoi

I make excuses to go to Amsterdam just so I can stop in at this tiny, cheerful, wonderful Australian-owned deli-style lunch spot. It’s a very badly-kept secret, both with locals and expats, because people like me can’t keep their mouths shut about its wonderful food and friendly mood.

The fresh tuna with tapenade sandwich is my favorite. The grilled chicken with avocado and red onion was once dubbed by my dining companion The Best Chicken Sandwich In The World; other sandwich choices are roasted vegetables with ricotta and pesto; goat cheese, balsamic onion and arugula…there are several others, all listed on the wall, in English.

I’ve never had anything here that was less than delicious. They also serve fresh juices and excellent coffee, and you can get dishes to take away: lasagna, quiches, Spanish tortilla, deli salads and gorgeous carrot cake and cheesecake.

It was closed! At three o’clock on a Friday afternoon. With no sign posted and no explanation.

And what’s more, it’s in the middle of nowhere and I’m both carless and orientationally challenged. Took me forever to get there.

Naughty, naughty!

If I should discover that some emergency led to the closure, I shall amend my judgment.

...it’s nice here: nice and dark, in a warm way. Good stereo system playing interesting music. There’s something slightly American-cum-worldmusic playing at the moment, jazzy but not in a Starbucky way. More Gil Scott-Heron than Ry Cooder. Good coffee. Free wifi provided by the city of Seattle. Wish this place had been around in my student days.

But I got coffee here occasionally when I lived in the neighborhood, ten years ago.

Seven minutes ago, as I walked in, out walked a fellow Capitol Hill denizen from back in the day.

This nostalgia tour is a strange trip.

My name is carved in a table there, along with those of a lot of other folks who occupied that table regularly (I did not commit this act of defacement, nor do I know who did). We found the light over ‘our’ table a bit harsh, so the staff kept our red lightbulb behind the bar, and we installed it every Friday. (I don’t remember how many of us it took…)

About eight years ago they got new furniture, and sold off their old chairs… I bought two as a souvenir.

Man, the Germans know from Christmas. Aachen’s Christmas Market was lovely, if crowded.

I achieved most of the goals on my list for this expedition:

Reibekuchen (fried potato cakes, with or without applesauce): check (and better than the ones I remember from the Mainz or Düsseldorf Christmas Markets).

Thüringer Rostbratwurst (yummy grilled sausage in a bread roll): check.

Glühwein: (hot spiced wine): check.

Christmas presents: incomplete. It was too much of a struggle to get to the front of the queue. Do go; and if you can, go during the week, not on a Saturday.