I haven’t eaten at Gainsbourg yet; Tragically, I haven’t even been able to partake of the fine looking wine list. It seems I’ve been checking out one too many happy hours, reader, and my body has staged an intervention by way of sore throat, coughs, and sneezes. Thus, my beverage of choice at Gainsbourg was a cup of Bigelow earl grey tea, which came accompanied, adorably, by a porcelain creamer shaped like a cat, the milk pouring out of its outstretched paw.
I mention the creamer because it gets at what I really charmed me about Hannah Levin’s new Greenwood cafe/bar: the details. The weathered, orange Le Creuset pans resting on the fireplace behind the bar, the kitschy lamp with a hypercolor Northwest lake scene screenprinted on the shade, the oversized prints of the bar’s namesake—Serge Gainbourg—one in which he’s strolling alongside Jane Birken, she in a transparent mini dress and the signature basket she carried instead of a handbag, he in some perfectly mussed continental menswear, a cigarette—if I recall correctly—in his mouth. So. F’ing. French.
I didn’t interview Levin for this post because I have other plans for Gainsbourg in an upcoming print issue of Seattle Met, but I have the distinct feeling that all the appointments in this café speak to a longtime dream to open such a place, that maybe she’s been collecting these things since her beret-wearing teenage years. I’ll ask her and get back to you.
So yeah, this is basically a post about a bar I haven’t had a proper drink in, owned by a woman I haven’t interviewed. Heck, I stole the image from Gainsbourg’s Myspace page. But come on now, I’m sick. Would love to hear about any other experiences at the cafe.