1889 Feb | March 2018

trip planner
CLOCKWISE, FROM LEFT
Wave sculptures at Hiram
M. Chittenden Locks. Get a
morning caffeine boost at
Slate Coffee Roasters. A street
vendor prepares food at the
Ballard Farmers Market.
Seattle’s Ballard
The city’s hottest ’hood still has hints of its heritage
written by Naomi Tomky
photography by Austin White
WALKING DOWN Ballard Avenue on a Friday night offers an accurate
representation of today’s Seattle—trendy restaurants spill their sushiseeking,
cocktail-drinking diners into the street, new condominiums poke
up behind them, and a Tesla looks for parking. But the history woven
into the fabric of this neighborhood—one of the hottest real-estate
neighborhoods in the country—lurks around every corner. It comes in
the form of the old industrial warehouses that now play host to craft
breweries, the fishing boats that pass through the locks, and the hints of
Scandinavian heritage barely visible to those who know where to look.
All too often, visitors to Seattle look
out on downtown from the double-digit
floor of their hotel rooms, where the
streets are near silent after 7 p.m. and
the few non-chain restaurants cater to
the tourist palate, serving overcooked
salmon and fried fish assumed to be
appropriate in a seaside city. But Seattle’s
not that kind of city. Instead, it spreads
its wealth among neighborhoods,
stashing James Beard Foundation
Award-winning chefs in Capitol Hill
and Georgetown, scuttling away upand-coming
musicians in Columbia City
and Fremont. And the best way to see
the city’s finest is by basing oneself in a
single neighborhood—like Ballard, just
15 minutes north of downtown—and
exploring from there.
Long after the city of Seattle annexed
Ballard in 1907, the one-time Nordic fishing
village fought to hold onto its identity. But
as it lingered on, Ballard became not only
entirely integrated, but the best example
of the quintessential Seattle neighborhood
in a city centered on them. The main
drag, Ballard Avenue, seems to sprout a
new restaurant at least once a month, but
it sets up shop next to places like Hattie’s
Hat, which pre-dates the neighborhood’s
annexation. The streets no longer ring with
Scandinavian accents, but you can still find
the famously stinky, air-dried specialty
lutefisk if you know where to look—when
you’re done picking up the
much nicer-smelling hot cider,
doughnuts, and flowers from
the Sunday farmers market.
76 1889 WASHINGTON’S MAGAZINE FEBRUARY | MARCH 2018