Stepping Out in Seattle

Our trip to Alaska began with a night in Seattle.  Southwest Airlines flew us from Philadelphia to Seattle with a stop in Las Vegas to change planes.  This broke the trip up nicely and gave us a chance to stretch our legs on what would have otherwise been a very long flight.  Our first evening in the city, we stayed at the Sheraton Seattle, which was in a location that allowed for an easy walk to the Pike Place Fish Market.  You can’t go to Seattle and not stand with the crowd to watch the fish get thrown around.

seattle fish.jpg

Since we were tired and grumpy from hours of traveling on airport food, we weren’t picky about dinner.  I had read about Elliot’s Oyster House, a seafood restaurant on the waterfront, and I was warned from all of the reviews, “Beware!  It’s a tourist trap!”  I love when tourists warn you to stay away from the places they comfortably roam.  As if the locals set the place up especially for them to ruin, then complain about.  While I’d normally stay away from anything remotely close to a Ferris Wheel and an aquarium, it was one local’s review that completely convinced me to give Elliots a try.


A young lady had written that when she had moved to Seattle, her family would always visit requesting to go out for the seafood they couldn’t get at home.  Each and every time she would take them to some new trendy place on her local radar, and they’d always go home disappointed.  Until she took them to Elliot’s, which she herself was mortified to be seen in, considering its “tourist trap” reputation.  Turns out, they loved the food, and proclaimed it was exactly what they’d always hoped to eat in Seattle.  Even she was pleasantly surprised.  Thanks to her honest review, we gave Elliot’s a try.  This is where I fell madly in love with open-face pesto salmon sliders.  I never knew such a thing existed until I pushed my way through the doors of this so-called place of sightseer confinement, found a seat at the bar, and discovered this Happy Hour item of my dreams.  If that makes me a tourist, so be it.  Although I’d rather be called a traveler.


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