Julian’s father had a stock response when we’d ask him what was for dinner: “Pasta fazool.” He wasn’t particularly fond of the soup, he just liked saying its name. There was also an Olive Garden just outside his condo complex. This was a frequent dining destination when we’d visit them, as Julian’s stepmother was not an adventurous eater.
One hole in Seattle’s dining scene is non-chain, white-tablecloth Italian restaurants. These were special-occasion places when I was growing up. Oswego has Vona’s and Canale’s, which sit a block away from each other. Each has their proponents. Ithaca has Joe’s, which has gone through several iterations since I was an undergrad. Syracuse has Grimaldi’s and several others.
The closest thing we have to one of these restaurants in our neighborhood is Grazie. There’s a second outpost near Sea-Tac Airport, which I didn’t realize until I checked the website. We go there a few times a year, and were last there two weeks ago. It has the usual pasta, parmigiana, and veal dishes. I’ve never seen pasta fazool on the menu, though. Service is good. We got a very obsequious waiter on our latest visit. He did recommend crab cannelloni for Julian, which was excellent. I had the bolognese, which was also good. We wound up taking leftovers home.
The other gaping hole in Seattle’s cuisine is Jewish delis. I’ve already bemoaned that in this post. According to this article from Seattle Met, this may be changing. Unfortunately, none of them are near our usual stomping grounds.
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