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Does Size Matter?

At Oddfellows, Less is More

So I had my second dinner at Oddfellows the other night…eh, what’s that? Sorry, just a little touch of the raging tinnitus I’ve suffered since.

ANYWAY…I feel compelled to keep the bulk of my opinions to myself until my actual review is published in the May Seattle Met, but I do find myself itching to weigh in on one little thing. Um…one very little thing.

“All those Ericka Burke places…they’re restaurants for girls!” grumped a colleague. He was talking about his experiences at Burke’s uber-luscious Volunteer Park Café, where he has found the portion size suitable for birds or, apparently, girls.

(Apparently this man knows none of the girls I know, because the ones I know put it away like racehorses.)

ANYWAY, he told me that the portions at Oddfellows are even skimpier. (Ericka Burke owns that new Pike/Pine place with bar impresario Linda Derschang.)

My humble o? The Oddfellows portions, like VPC’s, are closer to regular-sized and everyone else’s are waaaaay too big. (Sorry big manly colleague-who-shall-go-unnamed.) Skinnier than usual sandwich, yes…and outright small portion of short ribs. But for the very affordable prices, fair in size. (And for those poor starving skinny young boho-artist/prowlers who live in the neighborhood and frequent the place, who apparently subsist most days on ice chips and cigarettes—just downright gut-busting.)

And nowhere near the Supersize-Me grotesqueries that pass for dinner portions in many joints these days. Portions many of us have apparently come to expect.

So in my jaded view, the Oddfellow portions are not odd…even for a fellow. Ha.











Kathryn Robinson
Kathryn Robinson
Senior Writer Seattle native Kathryn Robinson, award-winning restaurant critic and senior writer at Seattle Met, has been anonymously reviewing restaurants for over 30 years—first as editor of the Best Places guidebook series, then as staff critic at Seattle Weekly and contributing critic at The Seattle Times and Seattle magazine.  Midcareer she spent a year-long sabbatical studying comparative religion as a Knight Fellow at Stanford University where she had been an undergrad 10 years earlier, gaining a knowledge base she now calls upon for her monthly “Back Fence” column on our collective urban existence and the meaning it holds for our personal lives. In her off hours she is a partner and a parent—which means she has no off hours.