You know the feeling: the weekend's over, your life is over. There's a whole week of work ahead, so lawn and laundry will just have to wait. But first, there's dinner. Not pizza again, though. Can we at least agree on that? Please not pizza.
All those Sunday brunches, they take a toll. After a while, they dull the spirit. The Mariners, don't even mention them. No pizza for baseball players. No pizza, period.
What you want is a Sunday supper, anything as long as it's not pizza. Let someone else do the work, pretty please, and just bring me a plate. For example, that cute roasting box on the patio at the corner of 2nd and Bell, isn't that a whole pig inside? Snout to tail, says exec chef Stew Navarre. (We've seen this gadget before, at Fresh Bistro in West Seattle.)
A plate, did I say? Even better, bring me the whole board! For $24, there's roast pork, crackling skin, a swath of sweet & spicy harissa, thick asparagus (none of those limp wisps), salty potatoes, house-made bannock to sop up the citrus-garlic drippings. And they can pick up the box and put it down wherever you want, home or office.
Just call me an urban medieval varlet. The lawn, the laundry? They can wait.