Results tagged “elgaucho”

In terms of opening a new luxury restaurant, it may not be the best of times, but it's probably not the worst of times, either. And if anyone's going to straddle this tale of two cities, be they London and Paris or Seattle and Bellevue, let it be El Gaucho.

For a first visit to El Gaucho, everything went pretty much as expected. We went right at the opening (note: during the 5 p.m.-6 p.m. "Power Hour," food from the bar menu is half-price when you sit at the bar or in the piano lounge) and spent the first ten minutes adjusting our eyes to the darkness. You’ll want to use the flashlight they provide to read the menu.

The American steakhouse--that dimly lit, mahogany-paneled, mafia-chic hideout for fat cats and their trophy molls--you'd think it would never fly in laid-back, egalitarian Seattle. You'd be wrong.

The only real negative: the sound system isn't as good as the rest of the theater's presentation, especially during the too-loud "how to rent this theater" promos that show just before the film.

To see Seattle's culinary scene up close, just like the locals do, get thy butt over to the Gray Line tour desk! Aunt Minnie from Moline can spend a summer afternoon watching a real live chef!

The glorious fall sunsets have disappeared along with the mouldering husks of Halloween pumpkins, and according the weather report, we can all expect a long, cold, wet weekend. But this being the Northwest, that's never stopped us from getting out and about; here's the weekend plans of your intrepid Seattlest contributors:

No, this isn't George Orwell's sad tale. Seattlest is a professional on a closed course. Do not attempt.

What the rest of the world was doing while Seattlest was at Bumbershoot:

Seattlest James took a time-out from showering the Nickels administration with Gwen Stefani tickets and El Gaucho gift certificates to host the quiz last night at the Old Pequliar.

For serious wine geeks, it's all about the pursuit of perfection. We'll tolerate the bafflement of friends, the disappointment of poor vintages, the torment of indifferent service and the frustration of inferior bottles--because we have faith that now and again, with the clarity of a religious vision, we will experience something Utopian.