Veg-Friendly Seattle

My favorite veg-friendly restaurants in Seattle—the kind of places I head for straight from the airport, the ones whose closing hours I keep in mind when booking plane tickets—include:

• Bamboo Garden, near Seattle Center, for casual Chinese/kosher/vegan cuisine
• Red Mill Burgers, in Phinney Ridge and Interbay, for the best veggie burger I’ve had in my life (and I’ve had a few)
• Carmelita, in Greenwood, for gourmet seasonal vegetarian fare
• Café Flora, in Madison Park, which popularized a certain brand of yuppified vegetarian fare in Seattle
• Rover’s, also in Madison Park, for its over-the-top tasting menus of contemporary French cuisine

Strict vegans will want to check out Cafe Ambrosia, on Lake Union, while granola types who hang out in the University District can try the oddly named Silence-Heart-Nest, right on the "Ave," at 5247 University Way NE, or Sunlight Café, at 6403 Roosevelt Way NE.

Quick Tips:

For organic groceries, picnic fixin’s, or a quick meal to go, try the Puget Consumers’ Co-op, a local institution known simply as "the co-op." Its Greater Seattle locations include:

PCC Fremont, 600 N. 34th St., Seattle (206/632-6811)
PCC Greenlake, 7504 Aurora Ave. N., Seattle (206/525-3586)
PCC Issaquah, 1810 12th Ave. NW, Issaquah (425/369-1222)
PCC Kirkland, 10718 NE 68th, Kirkland (425/828-4622)
PCC Seward Park, 5041 Wilson Ave. S., Seattle (206/723-2720)
PCC View Ridge, 6514 40th Ave. NE, Seattle (206/526-7661)
PCC West Seattle, 2749 California Ave. SW, Seattle (206/937-8481)

Other options include Whole Foods, in the University District at 1026 NE 64th St.; and Trader Joe’s, in the University District at 4555 Roosevelt Way NE, and in Upper Queen Anne at 112 Galer St.

Best Way To Get Around:

You don’t have to look far to find vegetarian and vegan food in Seattle. This is, after all, the city that brought you an evil empire (not Microsoft—the other one) that still manages to cater to vegans by steaming up soy lattes while it takes over the world, from Athens to Kuwait to Beijing's Forbidden City. Just wander around neighborhoods like downtown Seattle, Queen Anne, Capitol Hill, Madison Park, the U District, Fremont, Wallingford, or Magnolia, and you’re sure to bump into veg-friendly options.

If you’d prefer to do some advance research, useful resources include the Vegetarian Resource Group, which publishes travel and dining guides on various destinations; the index of vegetarian restaurants in the Zagat guide to Seattle; and Citysearch.

You don’t have to be an Adam Yauch–lovin’ Jew-Bu—or a Chinese kosher vegan, or even kosher, for that matter—to appreciate Bamboo Garden. Open since 1991, with a convenient location across from Seattle Center, it’s one of the city’s vegetarian standbys—and has the crowds to prove it. (Reservations are recommended on Friday and Saturday nights.)

The decor isn’t much to speak of, although effort has clearly been made. The look, though dated, remains several steps above the ubiquitous pink-tablecloth/disposable-chopstick/zodiac-placemat style found in a sad majority of Chinese restaurants. The comfortable booths are upholstered in green vinyl, while the tables are bedecked with mauve tablecloths and vases of fake carnations. In the works are plans for extensive renovations—along with a menu overhaul—for the first time in many years. Doing away with the fluorescent lighting, acoustic ceiling tile, and hanging baskets of fake fuchsia flowers would be a major improvement.

It’s the food, however, that’s the primary draw. Despite years of living in Manhattan—where my cravings for vegetarian Chinese food and pork-free dim sum can be met by Zen Palate and VP2—I still find myself jonesing for Bamboo Garden’s chicken curry on a regular basis. Fortunately, the restaurant’s 10pm closing time makes it possible for me to swing by after landing at Sea-Tac (or else I sweet-talk my ride into picking up takeout on his or her way to the airport).

My personal recommendations include #86, the aforementioned curry chicken hot pot with potato and mixed vegetables ($7.95). The sizzling hot pot, filled with savory chunks of faux chicken, Napa cabbage, broccoli, carrot, and slightly mushy potato, is total comfort food. Another favorite is #60, vegetarian sausage and pork in black-bean sauce ($7.95), which can be a little disconcerting when you notice that the pale-pink sausage (or is it supposed to be the pork?) looks exactly like real hot dogs, down to the little puckered wrinkle on the end pieces . . . but then again, I suppose real hot dogs barely qualify as meat anyway.

On my most recent visit, the amiable owner, Victor (who seems to have committed every number on the 100-item menu to memory), recommended two new dishes. Ruby Princess, #53, consists of hot and spicy mock chicken sautéed with asparagus, red peppers, and enormous shiitake mushrooms ($9.85). Not yet on the menu is a hot pot of very tender, juicy bean-curd skin sautéed in a rich peanut sauce—a perfect complement to the heat of Ruby Princess.

Tip: Bamboo Garden offers a limited number of affordable parking spots for customers headed to Seattle Center after their meal. If you’re going to the Intiman Theatre, McCaw Hall (Seattle Opera’s stunning new home), KeyArena (home of the Seattle Storm and the Sonics), or another nearby venue, grab a bite at Bamboo Garden first, then leave your car in the restaurant’s lot and save some bucks on parking.

I’ve had Gardenburgers, Bocaburgers, lentil burgers, even some concoction called the "love burger" served up by my college dorm’s cafeteria. Most have left me pining for a good ol’ bacon double cheeseburger from Kidd Valley. Not the veggie burgers at Red Mill, however.

The first time I ever tasted a Red Onion Veggie Burger, with a "heap o’ caramelized red onions" and special Mill Sauce* on a kaiser roll ($4.75), I scarfed down the entire thing and walked away wanting more. Usually when I indulge a particular craving, I gorge until satiated and manage to go days, if not weeks, before hankering after that particular food again. Not at Red Mill. The Red Onion Veggie Burger is the kind of thing I can eat for lunch, crave again come dinnertime, and dream about that night. I wake up jonesing for this burger before I’ve even had my morning coffee. The thin, flat pattie coupled with a not-too-bready bun and to-die-for sauce somehow manages to achieve a perfect balance of flavors in every bite. Add a side of the best onion rings in Seattle and wash it all down with a fresh-squeezed lemonade (plain or sparkling), boysenberry shake, or creamsicle malt, and you’ve got the perfect meal.

Other vegetarian options include the Verde Burger, with fire-roasted Anaheim peppers, Jack cheese, and Mill Sauce on a kaiser roll, and the grilled cheese sandwich made with local Tillamook cheddar.

Carnivores can choose from a variety of flame-broiled, quarter-pound beef burgers, such as the Blue Cheese ‘n’ Bacon Burger or the BBQ Burger. Lemon-honey-marinated chicken sandwiches come prepared several ways, among them the Chicken Club Burger with pepper bacon, Swiss cheese, and basil mayo.

Although Red Mill is only 10 years old, it definitely has that old-time feel thanks to all the retro touches: Formica tables, wood booths, red-vinyl counter stools, checkerboard floors, and vintage signs (plus a random landscape painting of a windmill). The proprietor, decked out in a faded Rolling Stones T-shirt and shades, cranks up the rock-and-roll while a youthful staff runs around red-faced in the kitchen. I’ve seen all sorts flock here: biker dudes in full leather; a white-trash family complete with surly teenaged son and little blond girl with a rocker 'do; and white-haired grandparents out with identical-twin Asian tots in pigtails and pink overalls.

Tips: Turn off your cellphone before you get yelled at. If you don’t specify veggie or chicken, you may end up with beef. Call ahead if you’re in a rush. And, in good weather, grab a spot at the picnic tables or head to nearby Woodland Park or Green Lake.

In addition to the Phinney Ridge location, there’s a Red Mill in Interbay at 1613 W. Dravus St. (206/284-6363).

*Official definition: "Our Mill Sauce is a housemade mayo with a light, smoky flavor. It is not a Thousand Island-style sauce and has no additives or flavorings."

Baseball purists may sneer, and I must admit that even I have never deigned to try a teriyaki bowl from Safeco Field’s oh-so-cleverly-named Intentional Wok or an "Ichi-roll" from the sushi stand (there’s something vaguely sacriligious about such cutesy, multi-culti yuppie treats at the ol’ ballpark), but let’s face it: it’s tough being a vegetarian at other, more hallowed venues that were already hallowed before expansion teams like the Mariners even came into existence. Heck, at the 2001 World Series at Yankee Stadium, where a friend had won luxe seats with waiter service, I couldn’t even get meat-free fries—they only came topped with processed chicken tenders.

At 21st-century ballparks like the Safe, however, you can have your pick of healthy, vegetarian, kosher, gourmet, or all of the above. Personally, I steer clear of the blasphemously untraditional—cheering on the Ms while balancing a rice bowl on my lap just doesn’t feel right—but I see nothing wrong with washing down peanuts and Cracker Jacks with a Northwest microbrew, a Kidd Valley hand-mixed shake, or a fresh-squeezed lemonade with actual lemon halves bobbing in the glass. Of course, this being Seattle, the longest lines, especially on cool spring or fall nights, can be found at the many Tully’s espresso stands.

As for actual food, I usually gravitate towards the Grounders garlic fries, which come heaped with plenty of fresh garlic and parsley ($4.75). One Grounders stand is located near sections 148-149; for fries with extra zing, head to the stand near sections 106-107, which offers a jalapeño version as well. If you’re feeling particularly virtuous, look for the Health Hut, tucked away near section 132. Here you’ll find vegetarian hot dogs (rather anemic-looking, but certainly edible if you’re in a traditionalist state of mind), vegetarian burgers, soups, and a hummus plate. The aforementioned Intentional Wok, right around the corner, offers a vegetarian stir-fry along with meat varieties.

Other veg-friendly options include wood-fired pizza, veggie sushi, and Bubba’s burritos. Those who eat seafood can try the locally famous Ivar’s clam chowder or the IvarDog (a fish sandwich on a hot-dog bun).

Of course, no one comes to Safeco to eat . . . although with the Mariners’ recent August-September slide, the food options at the ballpark might be less heartbreaking than what’s happening on the field.

Need a king-size Twix? A tin of curiously strong Altoids? A magenta wool hat? Or mysterious bottles of "Kao-E thick soy sauce"? Head straight for Café Happy, which most certainly is not your typical vegetarian restaurant. This eclectic general store, just a block from Kirkland’s picturesque waterfront, used to be a casual salad/sandwich spot. When the current owners took over, they found it easier to offer an overwhelming variety of Asian-inspired dishes rather than figure out the mystery of how to compose the perfect salad. Adding to the randomness of the place is the mishmash of decorating motifs: black-and-white Chinese brush paintings hang incongruously on the bright yellow walls, while a rustic country-kitchen-style shelf sits perched above the rice cooker.

The menu is impressively extensive—especially for a tiny spot with only one table and a few counter stools. You’ll find soups, sandwiches with a twist (like #53, egg and soy ham on a croissant), noodles, fried rice, and over 25 entrees. Item #9, sautéed veggies with ginger sauce, came with delicious crumbled fake meat of some kind along with copious amounts of zesty fresh ginger. Another entree consisted of two types of mock meat stir-fried with giant shiitake mushrooms in a light, flavorful sauce. Both dishes were typical of the Taiwanese home cooking you’ll find here—it’s not as refined as the cuisine at, say, Bamboo Garden, but you’ll feel like you’re eating genuine family-style grub. In contrast, #2, sweet-and-sour veggie fish, was rather more elevated fare: the "fish" was actually layered sheets of bean curd, wrapped with seaweed and then simmered, fried, and glazed. My only complaint: most of the entrees were on the salty side. A strict Buddhist, the owner uses no garlic or green onions—which might explain the rather heavy reliance on those bottled, salty sauces.

Like the list of entrees, the beverage options seem endless. Wash down that mock meat with a smoothie, bubble tea, green tea, "Hong Van canned mixed fruit drink" (whatever that is), Italian soda, milkshake, Snapple, V8, SoBe, soda, or soy milk. I don’t know what drives the owners to stock such a wide variety in such a cramped space, but at least there’s something for everyone.

Top off your meal with the "sesame shortcake," which really isn’t shortcake at all. Rather, it’s a kind of dense, flaky pastry made simply of flour, oil, and sugar—definitely something you won’t find elsewhere!

While you’re waiting for the cook to throw your meal together in her miniscule galley kitchen, peruse the random items for sale. The aforementioned wool hats, packaged in Ziploc bags, come straight from the owner’s brother’s factory—this place is truly a family operation. (The shortcake comes in little baggies, too, just like Mom used to pack in your lunch.) The owner even trusts customers who are short on cash to pay her back next time—"vegetarians don’t cheat," she claims. And maybe in a past life she owed them.

Forget the hippie-crunchy "gourmet" vegetarian cuisine you find in places with New Age music piped in, served by either (a) pierced, tattooed, radical-feminist waitresses who are beyond traditional gender constructs, or (b) second-generation granolas in Birks or Tevas and third-world woven tops, oh-so-self-consciously oblivious of the trends of the modern era.

Forget, too, the pared-down aesthetic of even the "nice" vegetarian destination restaurants, like Greens and Millennium in San Francisco or Zen Palate and Hangawi in New York. Those restaurants make it seem as if baby turnips and micro greens and seitan couldn’t possibly be taken seriously in a traditional (read: continental) fine-dining atmosphere.

Enter Rover’s. Although not a vegetarian restaurant by any means, this Madison Park retreat dispels any long-held notions that an herbivore in a French restaurant will get the all-too-familiar vegetable plate indecorously dropped in front of her. I’ve had that vegetable plate--usually discrete little piles of sautéed mushrooms, sliced carrots, and so on-—far too often, usually to the utter dismay of my hosts, who were entirely too trusting when the staff assured them that "of course we can accommodate vegetarians!" Never mind that this plate o’ rabbit food usually costs as much as a meal of bunny rabbit itself.

But I digress: back to Rover’s, arguably the finest vegetarian option in Seattle. Vegetarians get their own five-course tasting menu, and even vegans are eagerly accommodated with advance notice. Chef Thierry Rautureau mentioned this feat himself when he stopped by our table, as did our waitress--it’s as if the staff considers special dietary requests a personal challenge.

On the night we visited, the vegetarian menu ($80) featured baby beet salad with tomato confit; baby turnip, carrot, and spinach tartlet with aged goat-cheese sauce; flan of shiitake, oyster mushroom, and peas; artichoke and red-onion compote with fava beans and onion jus; and a "symphony of desserts." I won’t bother going into detail since the menu changes dramatically from season to season, but suffice it to say that everything was intricately assembled, delicately flavored, and aesthetically delightful.

Incidentally, meat-eaters will be ecstatic here, too. The grand menu degustation, which costs a whopping $125, featured such dishes as scrambled egg with lime crème fraiche and white sturgeon caviar; seared Hudson Valley foie gras with apricot confit; and Bainbridge Island lamb. A cheaper tasting menu is available for $90.

Although the atmosphere at Rover’s is definitely more formal than what you’ll find in most Seattle restaurants, it’s still a comfortable special occasion setting for all types--every party I saw seemed at ease, from the two guys in pleated Dockers and polos to the impeccably dressed older couple in three-piece suit and evening gown to the tacky family outfitted in sequined tube tops, hot-pink pashmina, and the like. At the end of the evening, "The Chef in the Hat," as Rautureau likes to call himself, circulated the room to personally introduce himself to diners, shaking hands and lifting babies like a politician running for office.

For a grocery-shopping experience that’s not as slick as Austin-based Whole Foods and not as touristy as Pike Place Market, make like a local and head to one of the seven locations of Puget Consumers’ Co-op, otherwise known as PCC or simply "the co-op."

PCC, which has been around for over 50 years, claims it’s the largest natural-foods co-op in the U.S. Anybody can shop here, though members ($60 for a lifetime membership) enjoy special perks such as discounts on products and classes. Like a smaller, more down-home, and less overwhelming predecessor to Whole Foods, PCC features organic produce, bulk grains, fancy prepared foods, and the like. Specialty items such as organic cotton and wool socks, natural pet foods, and books on cooking, holistic medicines, and "healing juices" all caught my eye.

For a relatively small grocery store, the beer and wine sections are impressive: you can find anything from your straighforward imports (Guinness, Bass) and American beers (Sam Adams) to esoteric Northwest microbrews like Wild Salmon Organic Pale Ale (from the Fish Brewing Company of Olympia), Scape Goat Pale Ale (from Missoula’s Big Sky Brewing Company), and Nightwatch Dark Amber Ale (from Seattle’s own Maritime Pacific Brewing Company). The wine section, although not nearly as entertaining to peruse, is divided into sections labeled New World, Old World, Southern Hemisphere, and so on. I found a decent Lan Crianza 1998 rioja for around $12 here.

Deli offerings vary, but on the day I visited, prepared foods included edamame salad, roasted yam and artichoke salad, Asian cappellini, tabouli, Thai peanut pasta salad, and at least seven different tofu dishes, including tandoori tofu, lemon-basil tofu, Southwest tofu, orange-sage tofu, and marinated tofu a la Japonaise. Other quick meals-to-go options ranged from fresh Cucina Fresca pastas and whole-roasted free-range chickens to vegetarian quiches, vegan Tofurky sandwiches made with "veganise" (just $2.83!), and PCC’s own hummus, artichoke dip, cashew spread, and artichoke/roasted pepper tapenade. For a super-quick lunch, just head to the soup bar and grab some artisanal bread made by the Essential Baking Company.

If you need party snacks or cocktail accompaniments, make a beeline for the gourmet olive bar, conveniently located right beside the cheese section. To finish off your meal, don’t miss the decadent desserts supplied by Paris Gourmet (try the strawberry-rhubarb tart, carrot cake, or truffle ganache). PCC even sells cut flowers and houseplants, should you need a hostess gift or a bouquet to adorn your table.

Even more amusing than the clever microbrewery labels or the prospect of pampering my feet with organic socks was the water machine (the likes of which I’d never before seen). This contraption spews out H2O free of chlorine, lead, fluoride, sodium, and other nasties at the bargain rate of 45 cents per gallon (BYO container). Only in Seattle!