The Will Fly for Food Trilogy - the Left Coast

The Soundview Cafe in the Pike Place Market in Seattle, Washington.

Welcome back to our third and final installment of Will Fly for Food.  As I mentioned in the previous two posts, there were times in my 18 year flying career as a flight attendant that I would actually pick up a trip with a particularly overnight in one of my favorite cities just for the food.  Previously, I have covered some of my favorites along the East Coast and then the Midwest and South.  No, my wife didn't ask me to make any deep dish Chicago-style pizza after last week's post.  She didn't volunteer to make any corn bread or beignets either. 

In today's installment, we finally come home to the West Coast.  Some Stews preferred to only work short flights - up and down all day long.  Others preferred medium flights - back and forth between the East Coast and Florida, for example.  Moi?  I was always a long haul kinda' guy.  One and done.  Get that baby up in the air and let's fly six hours to the  West Coast.  No sitting around, no long duty days, no plane changes and only one boarding (it was really the boardings that wore you out on a long day). 

Philly to Seattle on Day One.  Seattle to Boston or New York on Day Two.  Boston to San Francisco on Day Three.  Back to Philly on Day Four and hop on that flight back home to California.  That would have been my perfect four day trip.  And for years I was able to work trips like that.

Speaking of Seattle, that was my favorite West Coast overnight.  We usually stayed in nice hotels right downtown.  I have enough Irish blood running through my veins that I was never bothered by a little rain or overcast - even in July.

The Pike Place Market - the oldest public market in the country - is the Queen Jewel of Seattle.  Great food, shopping, buskers and views of Puget Sound.  Even the original Starbucks, if that's what you're into (not me).

Pike's Market is best experienced early in the morning when the vendors and fruit stands are coming to life.  Just watch out for the flying fish. 

My favorite breakfast stop in Seattle was the Soundview Cafe, deep down in the basement of the Market.  Casual and quick with gorgeous view of the ferries crisscrossing Puget Sound. They served a mean bowl of granola topped with chopped nuts, raisins and bananas (only five bucks!).  Yum.  One bowl and you were good to go for the rest of the day.  The only catch is that they would give you the milk for the granola in a small drinking glass without a spout.  I could never figure out how to pour the milk out without spilling some on the table.  I alternated the slow and fast techniques, but nothing ever worked.  "How would Cary Grant pour this milk?," I would ask myself, as it dribbled all over the table.  Cary probably knew to skip the granola at the Soundview Cafe. 

I have lived in the Bay Area most of my life, so I never even counted San Francisco as a "real" overnight.  On any overnight more than 16 hours, I drove home to be with my family anyway, but once in a while I would stay in The City, or my lovely wife and kids would come down and meet me at the hotel, and we'd visit some tourist spots around town.  Our crews stayed in the same hotel on Van Ness and California for years, so we all got to know the neighborhood quite well. 

Piccadilly Fish and Chips on Polk Street in San Francisco.

 

A couple of blocks behind our hotel was an old-fashioned, no-nonsense fish and chips shop.  A chipper, as they'd call it back in Ireland.  The fryer, pictured above, was made in Cardiff, Wales.  Ever since I lived in Dublin, I've acquired a taste for authentic chips (hold the fish).  They need to be thick, not thin; wrapped in newsprint, not put in a cup or on a plate; and most importantly, they need to be covered in salt and vinegar, not ketchup.  It's rare to find the real deal in California and the Piccadilly shop on Polk fit the bill.  They could always be counted on to meet my chips fix.

When you are in San Diego, Mexican food is not to be taken lightly.  When you are a flight attendant working a morning flight out of San Diego, a breakfast burrito is as critical to your departure as your cockpit keys and  Flight Attendant Manual.  There was a Rubio's, famous in San Diego for their fish tacos, right in our terminal before security.  A combination of scrambled eggs, home fries, cheese and salsa wrapped in a fresh flour tortilla.  Muy bueno!  I would eat one of those on the flight East and not be hungry again until dinner.

The dancing waters show at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.

Finally, we all have our guilty pleasures in life.  I would find myself spending the night in Las Vegas more often than I care to recall (not a fan).  One overnight a year in Lost Wages would have been plenty for me, but I stayed there 6 or 7 times a year.  Ugh.  And yet as much as Las Vegas made my skin crawl, I must admit that I loved the "dancing" fountains show at the Bellagio.  A free light, water and music show every 15 minutes.  What's not to like?  It was spectacular on a warm, clear evening.  Best of all, there's a little cafe that serves gelato right inside the door nearest the fake lake.  Gelato and Frank Sinatra singing Luck Be a Lady - not a bad way to spend a few minutes on the Strip.

Thanks for joining me on a nostalgic look back on some of my little flying for food hang-outs around the country.  Granola, fried chips, breakfast burritos and gelato.  As you can tell, I'm ALL about the glamour.