This eight-seat wood grain counter in Hillman City is more than a 10-course dinner inspired by the owners’ Filipino heritage. Each dish represents a part of history that connects our city to Filipino culture, and Archipelago only uses ingredients exclusively sourced throughout the region. After two hours, you’ll walk away from Archipelago with a belly full of outstanding lechon (crispy skin and all) and a newfound appreciation for both Filipino food and the surrounding PNW.
This Piedmontese pasta specialist is not just the best Italian restaurant in Seattle. It’s the best restaurant, full stop. Bold? Sure, but so is the mountain of silky sage butter tajarin or braised rabbit agnolotti you eat by candlelight after an early December sunset, or fried zucchini blossoms snacked between gulps of tangerine-tinted paper plane cocktails come summertime.
Eating at Musang is like being guests at a pal’s dreamy dinner party, and we’re not just saying that because this Filipino restaurant is located inside a renovated craftsman. From peppery pork lumpia with a crackly shell dunked in chivey sawsawan to a flame-seared, peanut butter bagoong-basted short rib kare kare, these are dishes that make us want to stop everything and sing about them as if life were a movie musical.
Communion is a restaurant that acts as a lipstick-stamped love letter to the American south while also taking inspiration from dishes and flavors you can find in the Central District and beyond. Earthy berbere grilled chicken with lemony lentils nods to the neighborhood’s Ethiopian population, while a po’boy/bánh mì hybrid honors the pâté-slathered baguettes of Little Saigon. A surplus of brittle cornmeal-dredged catfish, though, shows that this is a soul food spot through and through.
The Caribbean roast pork sandwich from this fuchsia and teal shack on the side of the road has the power to do two things: bestow upon you eternal joy and completely f*ck up your white t-shirt with meat drips. It’s worth it for this toasted Macrina baguette stuffed with tender braised pork clinging to tangy marinade, sweet onions stamped with char from the grill, tart pickled jalapeño, romaine, and a zesty aioli that laughs in the face of standard supermarket mayo.
A night at this institution, run by Shiro Kashiba who was trained by Jiro Ono (yeah, that Jiro) is going to be perfect, and the couple hundred dollars you’ll spend on raw fish will be worth it, whether you’re at a table or you showed up before they open to secure seats at the bar. It’s all a blur of sake, soy-brushed tuna, silky uni, fried prawn heads, seared flounder fin, Norwegian smoked mackerel, and a sweet egg finale that deserves its own extended tribute on our NPR affiliate.
A meal inside this quiet soba-focused Japanese restaurant in Fremont can be reserved for a massively special night out that’s disguised as a tame one. There’s a relaxed mood in the dining room that’s most appropriate for knocking things back like fresh sea urchin and marinated ikura on a delicately battered shiso leaf, chewy buckwheat noodles swirled in potent curry broth streaked with melted mozzarella strands, and spicy habanero-infused plum sake.
Seattle’s best Mexican is hiding in plain sight in Greenwood. Alebrijes Kitchen’s magic happens inside a snoozy dining room with a handful of tables. And yet, each tortilla-wrapped gift at this place works together to makes a simple weeknight dinner feel like a national holiday. Fiery salsa sets the bar high, and chorizo-speckled queso fundido sets it even higher. And then there’s the carnitas. All hail the city’s finest, with a scientifically precise balance between fat hunks and lean shreds.
This low-key Indian and Nepali restaurant on Aurora Ave deserves to be part of the Seattle elite for their momos alone. These juicy chicken parcels disappear from the plate quicker than Mt. Rainier in November, or friends when you need help moving. They’ve got moist filling, a tender wrapper, and preparations that surpass the performance of regular old steam, particularly the tandoori-roasted ones.
A huge kudos to whoever invented fire during the stone age. Because without it, we wouldn’t have the blazing flame inside Bar Del Corso’s domed pizza oven creating phenomenal leopard spots on their crispy crust, melting globs of buffalo mozzarella, and sizzling craggy bits of homemade fennel sausage. The pies alone would solidify this Beacon Hill staple as one of the most iconic Seattle happy places, but the small plates here seal the deal.