We were sitting in The Gravity Bar in the oh-so-hip Capitol Hill section of Seattle, sipping our fluorescent wheat grass drinks and considering our choices-the steamed vegetable sandwich or lentil soup?-when we heard about the bomb threat.
According to Steve, our bartender, a caller had phoned moments before. We had 10 minutes before a bomb would send us off to places farther than any electrolyte-laden, amino acid drink could take us. Outside our fashionable neo-industrial watering hole, as if in confirmation of what Steve said, we could see flashing lights and policemen darting about in protective headgear. A tide of patrons from neighboring stores drifted onto the sidewalk. Apparently, the authorities were taking this threat seriously.
But inside The Gravity Bar, ethereal women wearing nose rings and vintage dresses and men with dyed hair and black leather continued to lean over their spirulina-laced vegetable drinks. Steve, our ponytailed bartender, seemed unperturbed. He was discussing weightier matters with a fellow bartender, such as whether to catch an evening show featuring the local rock bands 7-Year-Bitch and Hammerbox.
“You guys can stay or go,” he said, nonchalantly.
That’s Seattle for you.
Languid and loose. Easygoing to a fault. Bomb, you say? No problem. What do ya say we split and check out The Posies at the Crocodile Cafe?
There is a certain ease of living in this city of water and hills, an undercurrent of Zen acceptance that is ever-present, whether one is frequenting the coffee houses and ethnic restaurants of the city’s Wallingford section, the bookstores and shops of the University District or dancing the night away in one of the city’s “grunge” clubs.
Indeed, this easygoing constitution translates into a bohemiana that flourishes throughout the Pacific Northwest, providing a respite for the traveler who is weary of more conventional city touring involving buses, museums and stores that sell salmon-shaped key chains. Seattle is one of the few cities in the country where counterculture thrives (some say as strongly as it once did in San Francisco), shaping the character of the city from the downtown business district to the outlying neighborhoods.
When you’re in Seattle, yes, visit the Space Needle, and pay $6 to whisk up to the observation deck, which stands a perilous 518 feet above ground level. And yes, pay $3.30, hop aboard the harbor ferry and feel the ocean spray in your face as you bob across Puget Sound and back. Spend a day browsing at Pike Place Market, where artisans and craftsmen sell sculpture and handmade jewelry alongside fish-tossing fishermen. Slip beneath the sidewalks and buildings of the Pioneer Square district to see the original city. Drop by the Seattle Aquarium for $6.50 and watch wriggling salmon spawn.
Flee the hoopla
But make a point, too, of visiting the “real” Seattle, tucked away from all the tourist hoopla. Hang out in well-worn coffee houses and glitzy juice bars with a copy of The Rocket, the local alternative music newspaper. Tour the bookstores. Drop into a record store. Listen to music on KCMU. Take a walk on the wild side.
Bohemian life in Seattle begins in the Capitol Hill District. Atop this hill just east of downtown, a collage of diverse groups-gays and straights, artists and businessmen and women, yuppies and slackers-live in tight apartments or rambling Victorians.
We knew this as soon as we began our walk along Broadway, the neighborhood strip cluttered with coffee shops, import stores, newsstands, cinemas and chic boutiques. Call it the ’60s done up ’90s style.
We had been directed here by Steve Bennett, owner of the paneled and polished Gaslight Inn bed-and-breakfast, 1727 15th Ave. Under an imposing deer’s head in the restored 1906 Victorian mansion, Bennett outlined a plan of attack for experiencing Seattle’s more offbeat offerings.
First, he suggested a stroll down Broadway and a trip through the mall known otherwise as the Broadway Market. Then we could stop by the B&O Espresso and later check out Tugs Belmont for pumping, grinding, head-splitting industrial music. And finally, maybe we would want to go to one of the theaters, the Harvard Exit with its lobby armchairs and couches, or the lavish Egyptian Theater.
Now that was Capitol Hill, Bennett said, hunkering down over a map before a flickering fire, yellow highlighter in hand. But we might also check out the “U-District” and then 45th Street, and then the stores and clubs in Belltown and then . . .
Bennett was getting excited.
Incense in the air
So there we were on Broadway, having taken Bennett’s advice. The smell of incense hung in the air, courtesy of The Vajra, at 518 Broadway E., a local store selling oils and incense. Passersby, though they would be loath to admit it, bore a shocking similarity to the characters in the Cameron Crowe film, “Singles,” set in Seattle. Everyone was young. Everyone was single. Everyone was wearing cool hats. And though it was mid-January and a nippy 50 degrees, there were more than just a few Seattlites hugging the sidewalks in baggy cutoff shorts, just like the ones the Matt Dillon character wore in “Singles.”
We began to feel a bit self-conscious, uneasy in our collegiate sweaters and preppy down parkas. We looked like we were from Boston.
The newsstand of choice, the place to see and be seen, is Steve’s Broadway News, at 204 Broadway E. There are more obscure magazines offered here than fish in the Pike Place Market. Finding even just a spot to stand here or in the Espresso Roma cafe next door can be particularly difficult late in the afternoon, when half of Capitol Hill’s residents return to the neighborhood after a hard day’s work and begin their search for latte and a magazine. (The other half of the Hill’s residents, mostly musicians and music lovers, are just waking up.)
Farther down Broadway, we hit The Cramp. Inside the Broadway Market at 401 Broadway E., The Cramp is similar to the Urban Outfitters clothing store, also in the Broadway Market. Here the young and stylish buy clothes. If you’re in need of a biker’s jacket, orange and black flare jeans or flannel, The Cramp beckons. But just about every store in Capitol Hill offers its own unique window on Seattle culture. Even the Payless drugstore can provide insights, with its big marque advertisement of a Folger’s coffee brick for $4.49 a pound.
A required stop is certainly the aforementioned Gravity Bar, inside the Broadway Market, which eventually asked its customers to leave on the day of the bomb threat. The restaurant continues to serve “postmodern natural food” (or vegetarian food and drink with the added twist of carbo fuel and protein powder) from morning through evening. It is a great place to people-watch. And the fruit and vegetable drinks are spicy and satisfying-though the “Dennis Hopper,” a mixture of carrot juice, beet juice, garlic and wheatgrass for $3.75, cannot be vouched for.
One of the more pleasant Capitol Hill dining spots is a modest East African restaurant called Zula, at 916 E. John St., just off the Broadway strip. For a very reasonable $6.95, you can enjoy a filling vegetarian plate of lentils, spinach and bulgher wheat. (It’s better than it sounds.) And if you don’t know much about eating Ethiopian style, the cordial restaurant staff will go out of its way to avoid embarrassing you publicly.
To a lesser extent, the University District functions as another stamping ground for the young and artsy. Along about 15 blocks on University Avenue, abutting the University of Washington campus, another slew of shops, restaurants and coffee houses proffers food and wares.
Locals shop at such stores as Retro Viva at 4515 University Ave., which sells crushed-velvet tops and the popular jester-style caps at $32.95. Espresso carts line the street (caffe latte is just $1.25), and it’s best to consider exactly what one wants before approaching the cart, for there is a dizzying array of choices. Steamed milk, cafe Americano, espresso, a cappucino, a latte? And not just a cafe latte, but double or single latte? Not just a double latte, but tall or short? And do you take 1 percent, 2 percent or cream?
The busiest hangout in the “U-District” as it is known locally, is Cafe Allegro, a coffee shop you won’t find unless you’re looking diligently for it. Hidden in an alley behind University Avenue, next door to a Japanese restaurant, Cafe Allegro attracts professors, beatniks and other members of the cultural elite. Brick walls are backgrounds to colorful artwork and every table is occupied in midafternoon, no matter what day of the week. A sign over the service counter provides solace for patrons and an additional insight into the Seattle mindset: ” `Well one can die, after all; it is but dying; and in the next world, thank God, there is no drinking of coffee and consequently, no waiting for it.’-Immanuel Kant.”
Immediately apparent, traversing Seattle’s neighborhoods, is the unique function of coffee shops such as this one. In Seattle, the cafe serves as living room. The only thing missing, fortunately, is a television. People spend breakfast, lunch and dinner glued to their bistro chairs. They find the time to meet their friends, read books, write a letter or even a book, right there in the cafe. The result is a peculiar European atmosphere, surprising in a West Coast city. Everyone knows everybody else. It’s charming but can cause some travelers to feel like outsiders. (However, it doesn’t take long to break the ice. In just a matter of a day or two, we became “friends” or at least casual acquaintances, of Steve and Scott, two Gravity Bar bartenders.)
Our tour of the University District took just half the day, so we set out for another Bennett recommendation. We drove over to Wallingford and down 45th Street, which is one of the best neighborhoods for dining, Seattle style. That is to say, if you have a taste for hamburgers, hot dogs, steaks or french fries, this is not the place to be.
On this street, ash soup, bolani turnovers, burta and foo-foo reign. Ethnic is the word, and in just a few square blocks, you can consume Afghan cuisine (Kabul Afghan Cuisine, 2301 N. 45th St.), Caribbean food (Islabelle Caribbean Food, 1501 N. 45th St.), Thai cuisine (Lotus Thai Cuisine, Meridian and 45th Street), Mexican food (Guadalajara, 1715 N. 45th St.), Indian food (India Cuisine, 1718 N. 45th St.) and Japanese food (Kitaro Sushi Bento, 1624 N. 45th St.) That’s just the half of it. There are also funky organic restaurants, odorous boulangeries and inviting “juice gardens.” An added bonus is that none of the restaurants will send you scrambling to the automatic teller machine.
We chose Teahouse Kuan Yin, 1911 N. 45th St., a serene Japanese-style cafe amid the bustle of the other restaurants. The Teahouse, open 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. every day and until midnight Fridays and Saturdays, is reminiscent of other Seattle cafes with its front parlor flavor. There is a bookshelf filled with reading material for those who may have lacked the foresight to bring their own. On Sunday evenings, customers can drop by for sitar music. And on Saturday nights, patrons can hear Baroque and Renaissance music on guitar and lute. (Is this bohemian enough for you?)
But the lutes were quiet the sunny afternoon that we stopped in. Patrons sat consumed by books or conversation, huddled over pots of tea cloaked in cloth tea cozies. The Teahouse offers a staggering selection of exotic teas: nilgiri, assam, cameronian, yunnan, keemun, tung ting, pearl brow, longjing, bai hao, and on and on. The cafe became one of our favorites, simply for its placidity, inspired tea selection (about $2 a cup), and the spicy Chinese noodles and delicate desserts offered as an accompaniment.
In keeping with the peaceful spirit of the Teahouse, we ordered wu-wei tea, a blend of hibiscus, lavender, cloves, orange peel, lemon balm and sweetleaf that is a house specialty. I was tempted, however, by the World Peace tea, consisting of peppermint, ginger, clove and licorice root. The Teahouse touts the concoction as “our answer to the common cold, jingoism and war fatigue.”
If the cafe scene is Seattle’s soul, the club scene is certainly Seattle’s heart. And I should caution: It’s one very loud, pulsing, beating heart. Musicians have found the city attractive because of its relatively low prices. Before California refugees flooded into the city, driving housing prices up, it had been possible to hold a part-time job at, let’s say, the local bookstore, pay rent and have time and money left over to indulge in more creative pursuits, such as honing that screaming guitar solo. While this may be changing (and disgruntled Seattle types don’t mind letting you in on their dissatisfaction), the local music scene is still a rich one, engendering an entire culture.
The clubs are scattered about the city, and the best way to find them is by flipping through any one of the local newspapers or entertainment magazines referred to as ” ‘zines” by the natives. The Seattle Weekly and The Rocket are two good places to start, but asking around can get you to the right clubs too.
A conversation or two and you quickly learn that those who dance on the cutting edge take a dim view of Pioneer Square, the home of several clubs usually cited as hot night spots in tourist guidebooks. The truth, though, is that Pioneer Square is given over to rowdy out-of-towners in the evenings, evoking bad memories of beer kegs and college frat parties.
Counterculturally speaking, clubs such as the Off Ramp Cafe, at 109 Eastlake E., with groups such as My Erotic Narcotic, Blood Circus and Pocket Full of Empty are the place to be. Or try The Crocodile Cafe, at Second and Blanchard, where we had the great misfortune of missing the band Supersuckers. (Darn!) If you’re in a dancing mood, you might venture into the Vogue, at 2018 First St., in the tattered yet fashionable Belltown district, for reggae, alternative rock or truly alternative music by such groups as Sick and Wrong. Quick tip: Bring earplugs.
After you’ve toured the intimate little coffee houses and whimsical cafes, visited the crush of import shops and ethnic restaurants, been flushed with heat in a crowded club, cooled off in a juice bar, you’ll see how easy it is to assume the Seattle frame of mind. Relax, sit back, sip tea and smell the incense. There’s a lot of ground to cover, yes, but fortunately, there’s plenty of espresso and carbo fuel to get you through.
