“Do you think if I ate here every day, I would die?”
“We all die eventually, Emily.”
“I mean, obviously someday I’ll die no matter what, but if I ate here every day, would I die faster? And more deliciously?”
“…yeah, probably.”
After a Saturday night of extensive cocktail sampling in Belltown, Bunny and I met Shawna and Katie for a very necessary brunch at Skillet Diner on Capitol Hill. I’m sure many of you know Skillet as that airstream food trailer with the amazing bacon jam burger. What you might not know is that they opened their very own full service restaurant, and it is to DIE for.
Once the initial spicy, garden-fresh Bloody Marys (Maries?) were ordered, the smorgasbord began. I chose their breakfast sandwich, complete with house-made guanciale (basically pork jowl bacon), eggs over easy, American cheese, and a huge biscuit. I had to eat this sucker open-faced. Refreshingly, it was paired with a salad instead of potatoes. I don’t think this dish needed any more greasy goodness.
But let’s not get too excited about the merits of the side salad, because Shawna’s meal completely owned all of us. First of all, she got the fried chicken sandwich (fennel-encrusted fried chicken, jalapeno aioli, and kale on potato bread) – something I already knew was amazing from sampling it at Voracious earlier this year. The real star of the show, though, was her side of poutine fries. I mean… HONESTLY.
Also clogging my arteries while simultaneously improving my outlook on life was the ultimate grilled cheese, with brie, cheddar, and American cheese on brioche toast. Don’t you dare think we didn’t decide to add Skillet’s signature bacon jam.
Finally, Bunny ordered the deconstructed beef hash with fingerling potatoes, fennel, roasted onions, carrots, and fried eggs… but, true confession: I was so obsessed with eating the mountain of poutine that I neglected to take a picture of the hash. I promise it was beautiful and delicious as well, though.
The question on everyone’s minds: after a long afternoon of beers at the Mariners game and cocktails at Toulouse, did Shawna, Katie, and I hang out in Shawna’s car and scarf down the cold poutine leftovers out of our to-go box?
Um… no… no, we did not.
