Vive La France

By complete happenstance, the family and I had a full evening in our 'hood.

The girls and I were pretty exhausted today, staying home, taking it easy. I wanted to feel like we did something, however small, so after Phoebe's afternoon nap I got the girls into the van and schlepped them to the library. Doug met up with us and we hit Epilogue. (I am one of these people who goes to the library and various discount stores in search of my next book for book club knowing full well that it is unlikely to be there. I should really just jump on Amazon or put a reserve on the book as soon as I know what it will be, but of course, that would be far too easy)

The shelves were pretty picked over at Epilogue, but it felt great to be able to tell Emma that she could choose as many books as she wanted and not worry too much about the total. After we cashed out, we picked up our dry cleaning a few doors down and thought it'd be fun to grab a soft serve at Snacks!

But it was getting close to dinner time and we'd been anxious to try Bastille, so hey, why don't we just walk by and see if it's crowded? It wasn't. So there we were, on a Friday evening, out and about when ordinarily we'd probably be re-heating the bulgogi, tofu and rice that Doug's parents brought us earlier in the week. It was a lovely, unexpected surprise.

We've watched Bastille take shape for some months now, anticipating its opening each week as we walk by the construction while at the Farmers' Market. It doesn't disappoint. The black painted ironwork and white subway tiles set the tone of the Metro, accented by the faux-gas lamp fixtures and numbered pop-out lights on the pillars. The light fixtures from the ceiling have intricate motifs in a surprising cranberry color and the menu du jour was written in white dry erase marker on a few of the mirrors. And don't get me started on the clocks. Those super-cool illuminated clocks! The detailed interiors are spot-on.

Then the bread comes.

Accompanied by a ramekin of butter topped with sea salt, the bread, made by Grand Central Baking Company, was crazy delicious. Crusty but not tough on the outside, doughy yet airy on the inside and just unbelievably savory with that salted butter--I was in love.

But I was also a little irritated. I mean, how simple is that? To throw some salt on top of a huge block of butter. Of course that's going to be a hit! And why the heck don't we do that at home? Well, we are now, folks, that's for sure.

We decided to share a few small plates: Moules Frites, Grilled Octopus, Summer Pole Beans and Soup a L'Oignon. Em had the Mac 'n Cheese. Everything tasted fantastic. There weren't any of those, "Well, these mussels would be better if the sauce were a little thicker," or "The soup is too cheesy, not enough onion." The food was exactly like the interior-every element contributing to the whole dish without anything overpowering or overbearing, yet nothing lacking, either. So delicious.

If anything, the whole picture seemed a little too...uh, dare I say it? The whole picture seemed a little too beautiful for Ballard. I'm grateful to have a lovely place in which to eat lovely food. But looking around the restaurant, there seemed to be more people I'd see at Bellevue Square than the Ballard Locks. As a Ballard resident, I suppose all of this is only good for me. It really was a wonderful way to end the week with my family.

Because Phee decided to eat her dinner and then climb into the booth behind us, then shriek when one of us tried to hold her down, we thought it best to walk down to Snacks! for our dessert. I guess for me, that's the flavor of Ballard: Sitting in a parking lot behind a bar, eating a soft served ice cream cone.

Au Revoir, Epilogue

Our absolute favorite new/used bookstore in Ballard is closing.

It began with a bit of buzz, as these things tend to do. I was there earlier in the summer, browsing the stacks while one of the clerks sorted through my box of possible re-sells when a woman who came in asked the clerks about the 'For Lease' sign out front. I didn't hear their conversation. I don't think I wanted to hear it. NW Market Street, the main hub of Ballard's "downtown," has seen vacant storefronts for some time. Living here since 1998, we've seen the neighborhood evolve a lot. We shopped at the Ballard Farmers' Market when it was only a few canopies in the Bank of America parking lot (now home to the new library). We've watched the lutefisk make way for the global exchange coffee. We've slowed behind the cars driven by blue-haired old ladies in Oldsmobiles while watching the jagged-hair hipsters in hybrids pass us. We've questioned gentrification while at the same time appreciating it--realizing that we, too, are more at the core of what Ballard is becoming rather than what it was.

So I didn't eavesdrop on their conversation because a large part of me didn't want to see another local store slip away. I couldn't avoid it a couple of weeks later when their closing sign went up. It isn't easy to watch their prices drop as they get rid of inventory. Nor is it easy to see that they are selling a lot of their fixtures. Being avid readers ourselves, we're always on the hunt for bookshelves, so I felt like a vulture when I inquired about buying some of them. The owner, Nathan, was so sweet when he replied, "Don't feel like a vulture--you're helping us." That made me feel worse.

Doug got this e-mail notice: Epilogue will be open three more days.

The people at Epilogue are fantastic. They helped nurture my love of books, were great to my kids and always let me have the bathroom key. I want to thank them and wish them the best of luck for the future.