Breathless in Seattle

For the first few days, I thought it was the coffee that had my heart racing. (Espresso... sweet nectar....) Then I thought the increased heart rate might be attributed to my growing excitement as I learned more about the flourishing local food scene. (The seafood alone makes me a bit weak in the knees, and then consider that chantrelles and fennel are still in season here. Oh, my. Is it hot in here?) In fact, it turns out there are some climbs around town. Here, where I should be safe from various mountain ranges -- I'm practically on the coast! -- I find myself out of breath in SeattHILL.

Tonight, as Ollie and I wound our way from the Sustainable Ballard monthly garden group meeting across town to a late happy hour at Art of the Table (which, by the way was totally worth the lung I coughed up half way up the never ending hill), and I cursed my poor route planning, I found myself wondering if Squirrel Hill in Pittsburgh could hold its own in a match-up against 65th Street here in Seattle. My money's on the west coast contender.

Stay tuned for a post on the amazing food scene. Just as soon as I stop hyperventilating. (Meanwhile, I'm going to look into strapping a Wonderflonium-powered jet pack to Ollie's rear rack....)

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