I Poked Around A Bit

I love a good breakfast.  I really love a great breakfast.  I also really love when a plan comes together.

I admit it.  I was truly nervous about this breakfast.  Martina, recently moved here from England, was joining me for brunch as a result of my raving about the food in Seattle.  One day during a business meeting she was lamenting not knowing where to find great food since she moved stateside.  “Oh!”, I exclaimed “There’s lots, you just have to know where they are.” Followed by, “Oh and hey, come for breakfast with me one day & I’ll show you.”  We scheduled.  This girl needed a darn fine breakfast.  Or brunch.  Something.

Eeek.  Now, I could have made it easy by taking Martina to one of my already beloved breakfast eateries, but that wouldn’t have been much of a challenge now would it?  So I poked around on Urbanspoon and a few other places and decided that Boat Street Cafe looked like a good bet for a lovely weekend brunch.  I just {really} hoped it turned out to be so.

 Of course, it was pouring rain up on my little mountain, all the way along the freeway & still coming down when I got to where Denny Way hits Western Avenue.  What a crazy place for a restaurant!  One of the busiest intersections downtown.  Cars zooming by in every direction and 3 crosswalks to get across the street.  Being Sunday, parking was free and plenty…just a little walk away.  Out with the umbrella (again).  I was early, and never having been to Boat Street Cafe before I didn’t know what *the deal* was.  The deal is, if you arrive before they open you get to sit inside while you wait and should you desire it, a free cup of coffee is yours while you’re at it.

Martina arrived a few minutes later.  We Europeans are generally a lot better at arriving when we’re supposed to.  We do like to be on time.  Even in America.  I also knew that Martina would be dressed up.  We do that when we go out, us Europeans.  A few minutes later the {by now} throng of soggy brunchers were invited into the adorable cafe dining room.  It was 10:30 am – I swear the latest brunch start time in Seattle – & we were all more than eager with anticipation for some {what we hoped would be} fine french fare.  We snagged a little table for two by both the window & the radiator.  Perfect.  The tables all filled up very quickly.  These Boat Street folks must be doing something right.

The menu (this is just a sample, not the menu that we had) was not extensive, but there was still way too much to chose from easily.  There needs to be at least 4 or 5 more visits before I’ll have tried everything on the menu that I wanted to try right then & there. 

The plates were not huge, but they were beautifully presented.  Martina’s Oeufs Plats were stunning in their simplicity.

Same goes for my Eggs Benedict.

With fresh sliced baguette instead of muffins, smoked salmon instead of bacon & the silkiest of Hollandaise sauces ever to grace a plate, they were some of my favorite Eggs Benedict ever. 

While we ate our respective oeufs & drank copious mugs of mint tea (they do not serve hot chocolate – quelle horreur!) we chatted about the idiosyncrasies of life in the US v. UK, the endless red-tape of Driver’s licenses, being stopped by traffic cops & other how-to-survive-stateside tips.  We talked about where to get the best French Toast in Seattle, where some of my other favorite spots were & the food revolution that is currently sweeping the US.  Plus we sighed over when on earth Martina’s husband would finally be able to leave British shores and head west, my son.

There was still room after the plates were cleared & while Martina had been eyeing up the Cherry Scones for quite a while, I decided I needed to peruse the dessert menu.  And there it was: Lemon Pound Cake.  A few days ago a new acquaintance, Charlie, had promised me Pound Cake, and, since I am not familiar with American Pound Cake I figured that this would give me the opportunity to have something to benchmark against when Charlie’s wife’s Pound Cake appeared.  Although to be honest, I knew Charlie’s wife’s Pound Cake would be fabulous simply becasue she had made it for me.  Rarely is anyone brave enough to make me pastries these days, much to my disappointment.

My inaugural piece of Pound Cake and I was stopped in my tracks at the first bite when there was an unexpected explosion of lemon in my mouth.

Fantastically light, airy texture & a lemoniness rarely encountered.  It reminded me immediately of the intense lemon flavor of Tart au Citron at Cafe Presse.  Happy Sunday!

Martina was just as happy with her Cherry Scone which having forgotten to put it on the check (bill) they graciously comped us with.

It was obvious we didn’t want to leave.  We could have sat there and chatted for simply hours, but I suspect that the lovely Boat Street folks really wanted to invite some other eager brunchers into our seats.  I confessed to Martina how worried I had been about it not being good.  She laughed.  Partly because it was a silly thing to worry about and partly because the whole experience was so good it was just funny.

It was still pouring rain when we left but we hardly cared by that point.  We were replete.  And I think that maybe Martina’s hope for great food had been revived, right there in the Boat Street Cafe.