I Heart West Seattle

My fridge got sick of being cold and said "*&$!% I didn't ask for this! I want to be warm, like the desert... like a hot, dry, swelteringly sunny desert" and stopped working. It took me a few weeks to figure this out. I'm not that swift. At first it was befuddlement at why my peanut butter was suddenly liquid. Then at my flaccid string cheese. But it wasn't until this weekend when my sparkling water was like room temperature coke that I finally broke through my denial enough to buy a fridge thermometer and I learned the awful truth. It's warm. Too warm. So warm it's kind of surprising I didn't get sick after taking those fish oil pills that are supposed to be refrigerated after opening.

So I've been tossing out food. And found a repair person to come take a look tomorrow. I'm hoping it's something embarrassing and as a homeowner I should've known... to, oh, I don't know - spritz the coils every 3 months or something.  

But in the meantime, I have to eat, and given I live across the street from a grocery story, a block from 3 fantastic and 2 decent restaurants, and miraculously my freezer still seems fine... I had some options. I chose one of the fantastic restaurants - Circa. It's kind of an upscale bar. Which is usually where I sit given I'm there alone. 

I brought my book and was feeling frisky so decided to venture beyond my staples and try the butternut squash tacos. They had mole. And goat cheese. And caramelized onions. They were SOOOOOOOOOO good. I mean, like, these could make me into a vegetarian good. The wilted greens with beet dressing - not so much. But I suppose they'd be good if you're into beets.

This nice guy came in, sat down next to me, ordered a beer and mussels, and asked me what I was having. Having just listened to him have a rather serious conversation with the bartender about the beer options, I figured he was referring to my drink - which looked a bit like something fancy, given the lime wedge. "Diet Seven Up," I said. He chuckled, and of course meant what I was eating. Then we had a nice little conversation the rest of the time about his kids, the neighborhood he lives in (my dentist is down the street from his house), we reminisced about the old Honey Bear Bakery - which I and everyone else I know who lived here before 1999ish still grieves losing. But I guess in it's memory it was part of a conversation that made me appreciate the community of West Seattle. I challenge you to find another neighborhood in Seattle where total strangers would initiate and sustain a conversation. I can't even get people to look at me as we pass on the street, much less converse.

So, because there are AMAZING butternut squash tacos and humans not afraid to interact, I Heart West Seattle.