The 10 Most Confusing Restaurants in Seattle
If you’ve been confounded in these joints, you’re so not alone.
Hey—they’re chefs, not logistics phD’s. Just make us dinner and all is forgiven.
TanakaSan/Assembly Hall/Home Remedy Triangle: I’ve been to this delish one-stop grocery-restaurant-coffee-shop-juice-bar-florist a dozen times and still can’t tell the waiting areas from the lobbies from the café seats from the chairs for sale…and do I have to check in with a host? And what goes on in that loft?
Macrina: Stunning pastries; super chaotic line setup---is this the line for paying? For ordering? Is this a line at all? And why am I giving my order twice?
Canlis: Mysteries abound. How do I enter the parking lot without getting rear-ended on Aurora? And how did that valet remember my car without a claim ticket?
The Pink Door: So it's behind a door. A pink one.
The Staple and Fancy/Walrus and Carpenter/Chippy’s Triangle: The most visible signs in front of this high-profile trifecta read “Kolstrand Mfg. Co.” and “Marine Hardware.” OK…right…there’s the sign for Walrus and Carpenter—right in front of Chippy’s. Whose most visible sign just says FISH.
Tsukushinbo: The Japantown hole-in-the-wall has no sign at all. (Hint: It’s on Main, between a design shop and the Kubota Building.) Makes the Pink Door look lit up with flashing strobes.
MistralKitchen: Many’s the diner who thought they were going for a normal dinner at this beautiful multi-chambered restaurant—and somehow wound up with the ka-ching special in the prix-fixe Jewel Box or, gaaaaah, Chef’s Table. Know where you’re agreeing to sit.