Something both good and bad about Seattle is that everyone pretty much goes to the same places. If you’re a foodie, you pay your dues in the line at [Salumi](http://www.salumicuredmeats.com/) and argue the merits of *Å“ufs plats* at Le Pichet versus *Å“ufs en meurette* at [Cafe Campagne](http://campagnerestaurant.com/cafe_home.html). (I love them both, but the fact that Cafe Campagne’s eggs are served with fries tips the scale in their favor.)

In New York, every gourmand inhabits a different world. You can live in New York for years and suddenly hear about a bakery or sushi place that has been open forever but nobody told you about it. We lived there for a year and never went to City Bakery, maker of the world’s finest tarts, because we didn’t know it existed. I’ve still never been there, although I’ve made some of the tarts from chef Maury Rubin’s brilliant Book of Tarts. If you drew a Venn diagram showing gourmet destinations of a few dozen New Yorkers, there would be a tiny spot of overlap in the middle corresponding to Katz’s Delicatessen, and even then there would be one cranky guy going on about how Katz’s isn’t what it used to be.

The center of the Venn diagram in Seattle is obviously Pike Place Market, and here’s where things get interesting, because the market is old enough, vast enough, and weird enough that every shopper has their own signature market trawl. Recently I told someone about the brilliant apple fritter at Three Girls Bakery, and I’m always getting similar recommendations.

Iris and I go to the market about once a week. We hit Delaurenti for cheese; it’s the best cheese counter in town and one of the only ones that doesn’t precut the cheese. Actually, we hit Delaurenti for cheese for me and Laurie, because Iris doesn’t like cheese. People are always saying they wouldn’t change anything about their children. These people must have kids who love cheese. Here is a conversation Iris and I have had many times:

> **Me:** Oh my god, this is some delicious cheese.

> **Iris:** Iris want some.

> **Me:** You want to try some?

> **Iris:** No. (Walks away.)

Iris’s favorite stops at the market are [Bottega Italiana][1] for gelato (she usually chooses lime); the crumpet shop for a crumpet with butter and honey (“sticky!”); Rachel the Pig for a kiss; and the viewpoint to the right of the fish-throwing stand, a viewpoint I never knew existed until Iris pointed me to it one day. You can see ferries, cranes (container and construction), and Western Avenue, where one time Iris saw a cement mixer with some chipped paint on the side. “Mixer messy. Dada wash it,” I was told.

Iris has never shown any interest in the fish-throwing, because she is exceptionally cultured and doesn’t go in for lowbrow entertainment. (Later, we go home and watch [Strong Bad][2] cartoons.) She does like to pick up tortillas at the Mexican Grocery and look at the staggering array of dried chiles at El Mercado Latino. And we always hit Alvarez Farms, the newest produce stand at the market and one of the best.

[1]: http://www.bottegaitaliana.com/
[2]: http://www.homestarrunner.com/

It’s easy to love the Market, and I’ve rarely heard anybody speak ill of it. There’s the feeling that it’s constantly teetering on the brink of having to reinvent itself as South Street Seaport and cater only to tourists, but it never happens. If it does, Iris and I will still go, as long as there are apple fritters.