Although myriad dining establishments beckon in the confines of Pike Place Market, I imagined that there might be a more relaxing alternative nearby. The lady who sold me on the four colorful prints (shipping no extra charge to Hawaii) also suggested I take a hike - up the hill one block, turn left - and have lunch at the Pink Door.
"You like these paintings, you’ll love Pink Door," was her conclusion.
We followed directions and when no evidence of the restaurant appeared we simply tracked with our noses toward the sublime scents emanating from a kitchen somewhere. We hoped they were coming from our destination, but if they weren’t we were about to change course and eat at the source of the aromas instead.
"I think it’s coming from in here," I noted to my friend and started toward the entrance. Turning the handle I observed the door was indeed Pink.
"Hey, I think this is it!"
There is no sign on the Pink Door, which is the first indication of its status as a hip/cool place. Enter from the back into an elevated staircase in full view of everyone dining below, and experience a moment of panic. Suppose you have made an embarrassing mistake and stepped into a private affair!
"Is this the Pink Door?" we asked, feeling suddenly sheepish, "there’s no sign."
Somewhere between bored and amused the hostess replied, "hasn’t been for twenty years, either. But you found it."
The décor is a strange hodge-podge delight, as if Salvador Dali decorated your daughter’s dorm room. Amidst a collection of jesters and angels, antiques chests, a flower draped replica of Michelangelo’s David, balloons, baubles, and a suspicious swing mounted on the ceiling in the center of the large room where waitresses are rumored to sing the menu opera style when provoked, we might have succumbed to the same sensory overload that we sought to escape from the Market were it not for the spacious and cozy overall feel of the room. Funky patterned oilcloths topped each table and the china was a garage sale mix that further emphasized the "hidden find" atmosphere that the owner intentionally conjures.
The menu is a moderately priced, a well-prepared collection of trattoria style items that make good use of the produce and ultra-fresh fish sold right across the street. I chose an impressive mixed green salad with roasted gold and red beets before diving into a wood-oven style pizza - the special of the day - while my friend lunched on pasta and shellfish.
But the food is not everything at the Pink Door and that’s they way the owner, Jacquie Roberts, apparently wants it. She has a skilled chef and menu, but her clandestine location, spirited waiters, copious decor, jazz musicians, and unsurpassed view overlooking Seattle’s sound, are the obvious secrets to Pink Door‘s success.
The lady was right; we loved it.