The things we eat.

 Foccacia with caprese salad at Talaricos, where photographing your food keeps you from eating, and that's blasphemy. Slices of pizza arrive sprawled over their metal plate, with toppings you always hoped someone was thinking of pairing together. Inside, they have built a restaurant you want to live in, or at least rent out for a party you would otherwise never get invited to. Style is the least of their worries, and their weekly calendar has trivia, karaoke and dancing. Thank you. A+

The best BBQ we've had so far, with fancy sliced peppers, pickles & onions at Cedar River Smokehouse. I had the pulled pork sandwich and Bill had ribs with mac. Choice sauce and fair portions. Right down the street from Bill's office. A.

Lunch specials at Ginger Teriyaki, a 4.5 star Teriyaki joint.           B. 

Outside our local Texas-style Road House, Jimmy Mac's. F*n strawberries. Inside, some silly ass food. Check out their website for vaguely familiar Texas noise. Their peanuts and menu were homey comforts, their rolls a mockery of yeast and sour margarine, their iced tea a gloomy, bitter.... Okay, it sucked. But I'm going back. I'm unexpectedly affected by Texas license plates nailed to walls. B.

For reasons innumerable, this was the best breakfast I've had in Seattle. It answered my hangover with precision, made me stand in line for 15 minutes, came to my tiny, crowded table just in time to curb my murderous delirium, and turned my bad attitude into calm with gratitude. Fluffy, mastered eggs over medium, thick, dark and chewy bacon and pancakes I could've stuffed my bra with. My Dolly Parton Pancake plate was under $7, the coffee was 91 cents. So was Bill's coke in a glass bottle. 91 cents. An atmosphere is always improved with a built-in record store, and  Easy Street Records & Cafe has it. Go ahead, get out your dollar and get a drink. A+

Disappointment of the week. The Ogen melon. $3 at the farmer's market yesterday where I opted for novelty over bright, sturdy carrots and greens. Heralded as an out-of-this-world delight with a pear-like flavor, I found myself saying "green cantaloupe" aloud over and over, until I was grade-A disappointed.