Not a Pizza Night

I'm embarrassed to admit it -  I am one of those people.  I'm a ...  FAN (in a big way). A geeky card-carrying-ask-for-your-autograph kind of fan. Have you heard of Orangette?

Tharan has been listening to me raving about this book,  A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg for months now. She is the local author of Orangette and her writing, stories, and recipes are fabulous. I  like her style. Even the photos on her blog, like the writing, have that same homespun, breezy, salt of the earth feel.

Well, if you are a fan too (admit it), you would know that Molly and Brandon just opened up a pizza joint in Ballard, called Delancey. Brandon is from the east coast and brought some of that east coast flav-ah to our fine city. I have been talking about eating there for some time now and maybe dropping off a Thank You card to Molly. Uh ... you know ... just to thank her for her blog and to let her know she's appreciated ... by a stranger. Tharan thinks I'm nuts and has let me know that if I plan on doing this, to wait until he has exited the building after our meal.  But, he is a good sport and a good guy and agreed that we should head over at 5 p.m. when they open.

We're listening to some old school Marvin Gaye on the drive down south to lovely Ballard and it's nearing 6 p.m. ....  feeling pretty darn good. Going to have some awesome pizza... and I figured we'd eat inauspiciously. We drove down 70th, and looked for the restaurant sign ... looked and looked . I finally saw a very small, lighted business - it was hopping ... still, no restaurant sign. I figured, that place must be it.

photo by Gabriel Boone

We parked and entered through the bistro door. (Note that the restaurant did have a subtle Delancey painted on the glass front. It was hard to see in the dark though.) The first thing that greeted me was the heat. I had heard about the pizza oven. It felt  upward to 90 degrees in there. Very small, cozy, and warm - and PACKED with people. I let the young, pretty woman near the door know it would be two for dinner. She looked down on the wait list and said, "It'll be AN HOUR AND A HALF WAIT, is that ok?"

Huh. Are you kidding me? This felt like being at the back of the line at Disneyland .... when I was nine.

I figured we would be eating some authentic east coast pizza ... maybe bump into Molly and company  ... get to talking about blogging and food?

It was not to be that night.

We drove back up north and had a drink at good old reliable Stanfords in Northgate. Ordered spinach and artichoke dip. The dip wasn't bad, but it wasn't all that good either. Ya, I was a bit bummed out - nothing like having the pizza of your dreams snatched away in a moment of unexpected wait time.

Oh well, next time we're getting to Delancey's at 5 p.m. - opening time. And ... oh, I've got that thank you card stashed in my pocket still, just in case.

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