Every once in a while I feel minor intimidation toward certain eating establishments in Seattle. Either they've been written up in one too many foodie magazines, their menus are in a chic foreign language, or the wait staff have uncommon piercings and tattoos covering the majority of their visible skin.
This morning I brunched with my bloggy girlfriend Allie at Café Presse, and it nabbed a spot in all three of the above categories.
First of all, hellooooo magazine selection. Bless their hearts for alphabetizing—made it a lot easier to find these winners.
Croque Madame. One bite is worth a thousand words. And this iPhone photo is worth about five.
Ginger Al. Looking sassy is her M.O.
Al's café au lait...
Natural car air freshener. The first lilacs of Spring. Pure love.