The Virtues of Ignoring Seattle Hipsters

13 Coins
130 Boren Ave.
Seattle, WA





I have to admit, I was hesitant about checking out 13 Coins.

The on-line reviews just aren’t very good.

But then I thought, “What do people in Seattle know anyway?”

After all, this is the city that actually erected a statue just two miles from here to Communist Dictator Vladimir Lenin, the man who introduced to the world the most destructive and violent ideology of the 20th Century.

And of course Seattle is the city that replaced the testosterone-fueled rock n roll of my youth with Grunge.

Instead of Bon Scott and David Lee Roth singing about kicking butt and banging chicks, we get scruffy effeminate dudes staring at their shoes mumbling about suicide and their low self-esteem.

I’m taking advice on where to eat from these people?

Not a chance.

Good move.

My breakfast at 13 Coins was an example of what makes suffering the indignities of modern travel all worthwhile.

First of all the place is just cool.

Of course all the Seattle hipster Yelp reviews come to the exact opposite conclusion.

But I assure you, if you are seeking a discrete spot to rendezvous with that busty new blonde receptionist -- or to plot the overthrow of the federal government -- 13 Coins is the perfect spot.

As you walk in and your eyes adjust to the dim old school lighting, you notice a row of snug booths on the left that envelope their patrons in ten foot walls of black leather.

On the right is more black leather, this time in the form of enormous swivel bar stools wrapping each patron in a cocoon of privacy.

That is where I chose to ensconce myself with a perfect view of the flaming grill in front of me.

The primary reason I chose to ignore the lackluster reviews and give 13 Coins a try is because I heard they served a mean “Hangtown Fry” for breakfast, an elusive culinary delicacy I’ve been meaning to try for years.

A Hangtown Fry is an omelet of onions, bacon and oysters.

What’s not to like, right?

It is a West Coast specialty that originated in Placerville, California during the height of the Gold Rush in a town so rough and tumble locals just called it “Hangtown.”

As in “Hang him by the neck until he dies.”

Legend has it that some cocky miner flush from a big score walked into a Placerville saloon, threw his winnings on the bar top and demanded the most expensive entrée the cook could assemble.

In those days before refrigeration, eggs, bacon and oysters were rare luxuries.

I sat there mesmerized as the cook sautéed and flipped the onions, eggs, oysters and bacon over an open flame right in front of me.

The result is a decedent breakfast for the gods.

While I can always wish for a few more oysters, you could taste the briny crustaceans in almost every bite, as the salty oyster liquor permeated the entire omelet.

The bacon lended a smoky essence while the onions spiced up the well-seasoned fluffy eggs.

Omelets don’t get much better than this.

On the side, I requested 13 Coins famous hash browns.

Crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, these hash browns benefited from a liberal dousing of oily, greasy goodness.

Clearly, the old school atmosphere gives this place its claim to fame, but the food doesn’t lack for attention either.

No doubt about it, hip isn’t an adjective you would use for 13 Coins or its throwback Hangtown Fry.

But I’ll take oysters and bacon, AC/DC and Van Halen over hip most days of the week.

Even in Seattle.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!

Egg-cellent

Beth's Café
7311 Aurora Avenue North
Seattle, WA

Hours: 24 hours
Alcohol: None
Cuisine: Diner Food, Especially Omelets

Suit603 is a charter member of the Clean Plate Club.

Leftovers just aren't as good, and it's another thing to carry through security.

And it’s just a waste of money to leave it on the plate.

But I thought I might need a doggy bag when I found out that omelets at Beth’s Café were as big as they are.

You see, the *small* ones are made with six eggs and come with a huge heap of hash browns that are all you can eat (meaning, you can get more) -- the large ones are made with a full twelve eggs and are served on a metal plate that would usually hold a medium pizza.

Some groups split them three ways, though some brave souls were trying to eat ‘em alone even though, as the menu says, there's no prize for finishing the twelve egg omelet aside from pride at a job well done.

Apparently Man v. Food couldn’t finish one, though that’s not really surprising, since that guy’s kind of the Derek Jeter of the big-eating world: all fame, no performance.

I felt pretty lucky to run into the place when all I’d searched for was a 24-hour diner that wasn’t Denny’s to grab a late dinner at after a long day of meetings.

The menu’s really simple, and it seems like the main things people order are the omelets and then milkshakes.

I thought about getting eggs over easy for a moment, but at the end of the day, a Suit orders the specialty of the house, unless that involves green vegetables.

So I ordered the six egg “full house” omelet with ham, American cheese and mushrooms.

As I waited for my meal, I looked at the walls, which were absolutely covered with crayon drawings left by patrons. Evidently at year’s end, the staff votes on its ten favorite, which get put in a place of honor for the next year.

And it was a wait for food, and I found out why on the way out: this place suffers from a serious lack of grill space, given what they do.

A 12-egg omelet takes up literally half of their grill, while the hash browns take up the other half, meaning that if you get behind a few of those, you’re automatically going to have to wait 15-20 minutes for breakfast food, which is just way too long.

If I were the owner, I’d at least double the size of the grill -- their hung-over clientele probably isn’t moving all that fast anyway (the place was voted the best place in Seattle to cure a hangover), but a diner still needs to turn out food reasonably fast for the occasional late-night road warrior looking for a quick bite.

But when my food came, it was worth the wait. The chunks of ham in there are clearly from a real ham that they make themselves, and the egg’s fluffy enough that you know that they beat the eggs themselves (well, if you don’t see ‘em doing it on your way in).

But a problem with the sheer size of these omelets is that large parts of them don’t have any filling in them at all. I don’t know if there’s something they could do with sprinkling the fillings out more instead of dumping them in the middle on the grill (this would probably mess up putting the omelet together), but the reason you order an omelet is to get fillings + eggs in every bite, and this omelet didn’t deliver.

But that wasn’t such a problem that I didn’t finish the omelet -- no, this was far too tasty to let it slip, and I even finished my hash browns too: kind of hard not to have at least most of them, since they’re right under the omelet.

Somehow, I managed to get through the whole omelet and didn’t even feel that full at the end, so I decided to order a piece of their friendship bread that I saw a couple other patrons eating.

It was definitely worth it: still warm, with the cinnamon sugar on top tasting just about perfect.

By this time, the bar crowd was starting to file in, and service was much, much slower. I had to flag down a waiter to get a refill on a drink (it took a solid five minutes), and I was disappointed that they didn’t even offer me seconds on hash browns.

Not that I would have taken ‘em, but given that they're allegedly “all you can eat,” I was a little disappointed.

So I sat for a little bit and then went to pay -- again a belabored process because the people in front of me were trying to figure out split tickets, but I left happy, even if my 9 AM the next morning was half an hour closer than I really wanted it to be.

Summing it up, this is definitely a place I’m happy to have gone to, and one I’d go back to again if I’m famished and have time on my hands in Seattle.

But only under those two conditions.

Rating: Would Wear a Free Shirt