Sitka and Spruce: Fall in Love at a Strip Mall Just Like Back in the Day

Sitka and Spruce has been at the top of my very short list of must-try Seattle establishments for countless moons.  While I can make excuses galore about why I haven’t managed to venture in for crudités until now, the real reason is the façade.  Every time I drive by, a little wave of excitement bubbles up inside until I see Subway slinging sandwiches next door and my pitter-pattering heart halts with a shudder.  I honestly cannot figure out why on earth Sitka and Spruce is quaintly nestled between a drycleaner and a franchise sub shop in a dinghy stripmall circa 1992, but I no longer care. 

The place reminds me of high school gym class.  In the beginning of a semester you were supposed to demonstrate your lack of prowess in any number of demeaning athletic activities, only to improve over the course of several months until at the end of the class you were doing back-flips off the high beam.  I would always deliberately underwhelm Mr. Tinker, the Green Beret dropout-cum Gym teacher on the first day.  That way, when I would progress 300% by the final coup de grâce I could ensure myself at least one A+ on my frequently questionable report card.  Sitka and Spruce is much the same in the sense that you are not blown away at first glance, but once inside things just keep getting better and better until you leave bursting at the seams of satisfaction and blissfully intent to return again soon. 

Exterior aside, once you walk into Sitka and Spruce, the competent staff put your soul at ease.  They only take one reservation a night for parties of 5-12 since the place is sooo tiny (maybe 20 seats?), so Nick, Jean Francois, Jonas and I were left to battle it out with our fellow patrons for a post.  This turned out to be a good thing, as friendships are forged in the convivial ruckus of waiting for a communal table.  We popped down the street for a quick drink and when we returned, we ordered while standing and then were seated alongside Steven and Yoko, our newly-acquainted communal dining partners in crime.  They were mid-stride through a delectable-looking appetizer which was also on its way to us, so we bonded over selection kinship right away. 

The reason we ordered before getting to the table is that everything is fresh and constantly changing at Sitka and Spruce, so rather than print a new menu daily, they write everything up on a chalkboard at the beginning of the night.  This is probably one of the many factors that contribute to the exceptional value found all over the menu from wine to dessert.  We stood close to the chalkboard to order so we could ruminate on what sounded good to all, but truth be told, if I had returned I probably would have just asked the very competent staff to bring out their recommendations until we were full.  This is essentially what happened- I think between the four of us we ordered virtually everything on the menu which was great because their family-style serving allows everyone to try a bit of everything.  The wine-selection is also ever-changing and holds its own on an adjacent chalkboard.  It’s relatively obscure but the servers know it well, and we were perfectly matched with a 2007 Vacqueyras by Jean-Marie Arnoux that suited our entire table just fine, especially at a mere $32 a bottle(or three)! 

I don’t want to focus specifically on the nuances of our plates since everything changes so drastically daily, but generally speaking, trust is the name of the game here- even if you think you won’t like something, try it- chances are you will be pleasantly surprised.  I have never been a huge fan of scallops or beef tongue, but at Sitka and Spruce, both dishes managed to shine.  My utter favorite plate of the evening was the soft-shell crab.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat it at sushi again after having this wonderfully old-world inspired preparation, and I’m already stalking S&S in the form of phone calls to see if they’ll be re-featuring it soon. 

The communal tables and order-off-the-chalkboard aspects of the dining experience lead you to feel more like you’re at a secret supper club during prohibition; like you’ve stumbled on a gem of a place that you want to nurture and protect along with all your newfound friends.  Chef/Owner Matt Dillon has had so much success with Sitka and Spruce that he’s opened an offshoot called The Corson Building in Georgetown that takes the supper club idea to a whole new level; look for a review of The Corson here soon.  Meanwhile, content yourself to frequent Sitka and Spruce on Eastlake unless the rumors are true and a move to Capitol Hill is actually imminent (which is pretty likely, though word is that Dillon plans to leave a sandwich shop in S&S’s current location.) It’s one of those rare places that, while the proverbial dodgy dingle-ball curtains really don’t match the cashmere carpet, at the end of the meal you’ve whipped out your iPhone to clear your calendar for next Friday night so you can return for another dose of de-lish.