luna park cafe

‘Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house

every creature was itching to get the heck out.

So we traveled afar, the car filled with prattle,

and landed in a mystical land called West Seattle.

The Luna Park Cafe would quell all our hungers

with burgers and milkshakes to make our thighs thunder.

Alright. I’ll stop rhyming in meter now.

This spot is sort of a Seattle classic (or West Seattle classic, if you want to get technical). We’d only been once before, and since the in-laws are in town for the holidays, we thought we’d give ‘em another try.

The decor is kitschy and vintage—someone did quite a bit of junking to come up with all this stuff. Try not singing the Batman theme while staring at this guy.

It’s got a cool old amusement park-type feel to it.

But the decor is not what we trekked to West Seattle for.

This may surprise you, my friends, but we like to eat.

This chocolate malt (husband’s–not mine) tasted like a Whopper. Not many chocolate malts actually taste malty. This place does em right.

While waiting for our food it was Lucy’s turn to eat.

Or point at things.

Or laugh at Nana.

Or stare at the camera. Okay, it was her turn to do anything but eat.

Lunchtime! Husband ordered the bacon and blue cheese burger–medium rare, of course.

Pops-in-law went with the Southwest burger. Mmmmmm. Green Chilies.

And I, because I’m 12, went with the grilled ham ‘n cheese.

And my childish intuition did not lead me astray.

Neither did my husband’s ever-present ability to order the best burger on the menu….

…and to douse his fries in bacon salt.

Thanks, Luna Park Cafe, for a lovely post-Christmas lunch, and for feeding my hungry clan so tastily.

Merry (second) day after Christmas!


bakery nouveau

The day after Thanksgiving was the most bee-youtiful day I’ve seen here in the Emerald City for quite some time.


The sun was out, the air was cool and crisp, and we were hungry.

I could not think of a better time to explore a new bakery.


Bakery Nouveau is a small trek from our humble abode. It’s in West Seattle, or West Emerald City, as we like to call it–an area you don’t really go to unless you live there.

It’s cute.


It’s charming.


And, apparently, they’re hiding all the delicious baked goods there.

Cases upon beautiful cases of baked goods.


But what to order?

At 9 am, I couldn’t exactly justify ordering what I really wanted to order.


Could I?

See, you probably thought I meant ordering one slice of carrot cake.

I meant the whole dang row.

But I restrained myself. Back to the drawing board.

It wasn’t exactly lunch time either, so I didn’t feel right ordering this lovely baguette sandwich.


You could wrap a sardine and liver sandwich in brown paper and raffia and I’d still order it.

I’m a sucker for packaging.

And speaking of packaging…


Have you ever seen chocolates this gorgeous?

I haven’t. But I couldn’t order 25 chocolates for breakfast without banishing myself to the treadmill all day.

Then, the perfect item came to me. It was right under my nose.


An entire chocolate raspberry mousse cake.

No? Not a nutritious breakfast? Alright.


How about just the mini version?


Or the lovely mini purple one?

Still no?

Okay, okay. I get it, conscience. You just have to get in the way of everything.

Finally, I settled on a beautiful and not-so-over-the-top pastry.


A turkey and swiss croissant. It was pretty. It was flaky.


The cheese was melty, the turkey was smoky, and the buttery layers were crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside. All around, the perfect savory croissant.

Husband went with a different variety:


Cranberry vanilla bean. He goes for the sweet stuff, that husband ‘o mine.


And boy did he make a good choice. The croissant part was just as superb as my turkey version, and the filling consisted of tart cranberries in a sweet vanilla-flavored sauce. My oh my.


He also ordered a hot chocolate (husband doesn’t do coffee, thankfully–he’s sort of like Speedy Gonzalez if he consumes caffeine), which was creamy and delicious.

All in all, the perfect bakery experience.


I’ve got to hand it to you, Bakery Nouveau: you’re charming and delicious.

When I feel lazy, I will call you to do my baking. When I feel hungry, I will visit you for lunch. When I am carrot cake deficient, I will come by for fresh supplies.

You are all the way in West Seattle, but you do hold the keys to my sweet (and savory)-toothed heart.

With all my love and devotion,