Somethings never change in Ballard

OK, maybe I got a little carried away about Ballard turning into a post-Yuppie enclave ("Flee Ballard").

Because this afternoon I saw something on NW 80th St. that I'd have a hard time imagining in any other Seattle neighborhood.

Our first clue was the crows.

Three of them were pecking at six salmon scattered across a lawn. At first I thought the fishes might be some kind of yard art, but on closer inspection, it was clear they were real salmon, frozen, and still covered with ice crystals. As Rae and I drew closer, the crows retreated. Then the front door of the house opened and a woman emerged.

"There are frozen fishes on your lawn," I said.

"Oh yeah," she responded. "I put them there. The birds will eat them."

She walked to her car, got in, and drove off, leaving Rae and me to wonder.

"Do you suppose she bought the fish to feed the birds, or do you think she had them in her freezer and they were too old to use so she's giving them to the birds instead of just throwing them away?" Rae asked.

I had no idea. But I was relieved to find out this wasn't one of those strange phenomena you read about in which fishes rain from the sky. It was just...Ballard.

At home in Ballard

Late this afternoon, I spent an hour in downtown Ballard, looking for an orange rhinestone brooch to match a holiday outfit I'm trying to put together.

As I scurried down Market Street I encountered a fellow I'd met at a dinner meeting of the local the P.G. Wodehouse society. We had a brief chat, then I headed up to the offices of the neighborhood newspaper to drop off a disk with a digital photo a friend will be using for her Christmas column. Then it was into a consignment shop (no brooch), a new boutique (no brooch), and a frou-frou store that had a burnt-orange Christmas tree ornament I bought to use as a brooch. I also stopped at a shop where I saw the owner wearing a purple-and-burgundy scarf that looked very familiar.

"Do you shop at Classic Consignment?" I asked her. Yes, she said, that's where she'd gotten the scarf.

And where I'd consigned it.

You really belong to the neighborhood when you see people wearing your clothes!

Pizza nirvana at Snoose Junction

I'm trying to figure out why there aren't people charging through the streets of Ballard waving their arms and screaming "Pizza! Pizza at last!"

Maybe it's hard to scream with your mouth full?

The big news is that Snoose Junction Pizza on Market Street is open. The good news is that the pizza (by the slice or by the pie) is rich, cheesy New York style 'za, all melty and spicy and salty on a puffy, crispy, yeasty crust.

The great news is that Snoose Junction is a genuine neighborhood pizza place, very much like the small Ray's Pizza houses you find in Manhattan. Order a slice, and the server grabs a small aluminum plate, drapes it with a sheet of red-and-white checked paper, and shovels the slice onto it. The drinks include beer, wine, bottled sodas, and fountain sodas (not cans!) and the cola is Coke, not Pepsi. (Does this make a difference to anyone else? It sure does to me.)

Snoose Junction has that "sit down and relax" feeling that turns me into a repeat customer. You can bring the family and take over one of their big booths. (Booths are in and of themselves relaxing things -- probably one of the reasons I frequent the Lockspot Cafe.) Or slip in by your self, sit at the counter, and read the thought-fully provided local newspaper as you devour melted cheese and rich tomato sauce.

Snoose Junction offers 10 type of combo pizzas, most with the usual ingredients though one, a white pizza, has some unusual elements. And you're invited to start with their basic 16-inch cheese pizza ($14) and "build your own" from a long list of ingredients. They also have calzones, panini, and a variety of salads that go well beyond the basic garden and Caesar. Desserts include lemon sorbet and tiramisu (both imported from Italy), spumoni by Snoqualmie Ice Cream, and sfogliatelle (order that one in advance; there's a 15-minute prep time for the ricotta-filled pastry).

I have plenty of nice things to say about the gourmet pizzas at Via Tribunali, Tutta Bella, and Serious Pie. But, frankly, from here on out, you're more likely to find me at Snoose Junction.