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Specials include $3 wells, $4 cocktails, and $5 glasses of wine, as well as $3-$5 appetizers like Thai-style skewers and papaya salad. You can also win tickets to Cirque de Soleil.

Proceeds benefit the Moyer Foundation, a Seattle-based non-profit that offers support to children experiencing emotional, physical, and financial problems.

So yes, go ahead and order that umpteenth martini. After all, it's for the children.

"Think I could get a side of blow with my escargot?"

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In true 1980's fashion, we started with the most pretentious thing possible: escargot. Ten dollars got us six snails: plump, glossy spirals of flesh with the exact mouthfeel of an erect clitoris, submerged in a shallow pool of garlic butter and blanketed in a green drift of minced parsley. This escargot was perfectly cooked, neither rubbery nor dirty tasting, as shitty escargot can sometimes be. One problem was that the snails didn't come in their shells, which I like because when it comes in the shells you get to use one of those cool spring-loaded shell-clamping tools that look like a speculum. I also didn't like the fact that the escargot came with only two toasted baguette slices for ALL OF THAT FUCKING BUTTER. Luckily we had more bread.

The classic salad verte ($7) was a bit pedestrian. Red and green leaf lettuce, arugula, and frisee were tossed in a tart vinaigrette. It seemed a little pricey at first, but at least you got a lot of it: they split the salad for us to share and BOTH plates were as big as the lead actress from Precious.

The beef tartare ($19) was very tasty, if a little bland. Diced chunks of beef, probably sirloin, were combined with capers and finely minced shallots. The worst thing about this dish was the presentation: two quenelles of tartare hid beneath a couple butter lettuce leaves which had been glazed in a creamy dressing. The tartare, shaped into a pair of small oblong loaves, resembled skinned testicles--really.

Truite Aux Amandes, the classic Trout Almondine, was $19 and was totally fucking awesome. A boneless fillet of trout as flaky as a homeopath swam in a lively pool of salty melted butter, and the whole thing was topped with a spiky pile of toasted slivered almonds.

We closed things out with a perfectly serviceable crème brulee ($7). The sugar crust was crackly, the crème lurking beneath was luscious like a 1950s pinup girl, and it came with a totally unnecessary shortbread cookie.

Michael Jackson and Ronald Reagan are deceased. Alf is a convicted child rapist. And Pac-Man became so addicted to Oxycontin that he had to have his stomach pumped; in a drug- addled haze, he tried to eat a ghost without first swallowing a Power Pellet. The irony is that if he hadn't been so high he would've been killed. The 1980s are dead, but
Café Campagne lives.

Rating: 7 Pac Men out of 10

Café Campagne is located at 1600 Post Alley
For reservations call 206-728-2233

photo by Adriana Grant

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SW: What do you want people to know about you?
Habeti: I am not here just to make money, also to make people healthy. We are trying to go as much as possible organic. And all those people that have a wheat allergy, a gluten allergy, I also provide. It is hard work for me, but I have wheat free and gluten free bread, our injera. It is wheat flour, organic teff flour, one hundred percent teff, which has no gluten, and also organic buckwheat flour.

But isn't teff what injera is usually made from?
Yes, but most of the people they use self-rising, also barley, millet, and corn. Those have glutens. This is the only restaurant that has gluten-free. There was no gluten-free before. This is three years I have done that. And also, we have one hundred percent vegetarian.

I am here to serve the community. My customers are my family. I want them to come back. If you eat here, you probably know that, this is not unhealthy, this is very healthy. I am the one who cooks from scratch. I make the bread for myself. I don't let anybody else help me. I don't trust anybody else. I have a cook helper, but I do all the preparation.

And how long have you been here?
I have been in this restaurant twenty years. Just me, myself. Twenty years in this area. I think this is the first Ethiopian restaurant in this area. I had a really hard time in this area. They don't want me to open here. Some people, they hand me notes personally so I could move out of here. But I said no, guess what, I am staying. They didn't want other people to have a business here. This area used to be bad, ten years ago. Whether you like it or not, this is a big place, the world is a big place. Big enough for everybody. I am here to stay. I give people samples. Most of the people, they would cover their nose so they wouldn't be able to smell our food. But I force them, I give them a little bit, samples so they could get used to our food, some greens or chicken, whatever they like. Now, all the neighborhood, they like it. And of course, now there are a whole lot of other Ethiopian restaurants. But it was very hard for us, when we first began, in 1997.

Can you tell me what your culinary inspirations are?
Just personal interest. Cooking is my hobby. I have been cooking since I was a child. I learned this from my mother. My mother teach us, starting seven years old, ten years old. I started learning what my Mom makes, from scratch. And of course if you are a girl back home, you are supposed to know how to cook good food, you are not allowed to pay for food. Now, these days everybody eats out, but before you are supposed to cook your cultural food and you are supposed to know how to cook from scratch. There are so many kinds of food. My Mom tried to teach us as much as she knew. I love to cook, I don't want to do anything else.

Check back tomorrow for more of our conversation with Messeret Habeti and how she wishes people would eat in Seattle.

photo by Adriana Grant

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SW: Is there an ingredient or dish that you're particularly into these days?
Habeti: The most interesting dish is our vegetables. We also have chicken or fish, but I want people to eat more vegetables so they can be healthy. Vegan if it's possible. I want people to be that, that way we all live healthy. Less cholesterol, no high blood pressure, no diabetes. These days, the way we eat, it's not so healthy.

I have five kinds of vegetables that I make here. The romaine salad, I make my dressing from scratch, pure lemon and olive oil, and I put some garlic on it. Then five vegetables are collard greens, mixed vegetables, carrots and potato, yellow split pea, and a spicy red yellow pea, and lentils. So it is really very healthy.

Can you tell me about the berebere?
I make my own berebere. The mix is of course very expensive. I don't know what they put in it. I make it from scratch. I use twelve kinds of spices. I put cardamom, ginger, fenugreek, black onion seed, garlic, coriander, allspice... For the meat sauce and the doro wot, the chicken, I use a different berebere. And for the tibs, lamb and beef. All of the dishes have a different spice.

What was your favorite food as a kid?
Collard greens. And of course lamb, and also shiro wot, yellow split pea, blended with spices. We sell it here.

You're making a pizza. What's on it?
I would make the dough from organic flour. And I would add mozzarella, green bell pepper, sliced tomato, and olives. For the sauce, I do not use a can, I make my own tomato sauce from scratch.

Where do you eat if you have just $5?
I would just eat salad, because five dollars is not much these days. I used to have five-dollar dishes, but I cannot afford it these days. But here, for six dollars, you can have half of any dish. You can still be full.

Where would you eat if you had $100?
I don't know, I am not much of an out going eater. Italian. Borracchini's, the one on Rainier. They have Italian food there that I can pick. It's a bakery, but they also have real Italian food. I would go and buy it and share it with my kids. It's to eat at home, not outside. I am very picky when it comes to food. Unless I cook it myself, I do not eat out. I don't trust anyone else.

What's your after-work hangout?
I just go home and clean, and cook for my kids. After that, if I have time, I read or watch the news.

What does Seattle need more of from a culinary standpoint?
I would like Seattle to be more of a green city. As much as we are a green city, I want people to serve healthy food to their customers. If we don't serve healthy food, we won't be able to have more customers. All of the diseases we have these days; on the food that they put so much chemical, so much preservatives. I want Seattle to be out of chemicals and preservatives. That's how we go green. Not only for the environment, but ourselves. We have to go organic all the way. That would make me really happy.

Check back tomorrow for Habeti's loose recipe for cabbage and potatoes, the simplest of the Ethiopian dishes she makes at her restaurant.

Yeah, that's Wendy from Wendy's. No, really, it is.

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And coke. Lots and lots of coke.

It ain't pretty. And it is definitely Not Suitable For Work (unless, of course, you work in the fast food industry--then it's just a night out with the boys). But what it is, is friggin' hilarious, in a completely disturbing, death-of-an-icon kind of way. And it's got a kick ending worthy of Hitchcock.

RAD OMEN - "Rad Anthem" from Nicholaus Goossen on Vimeo.

See? I TOLD you it was awesome. And yeah, that was one of the chickens from PETA's anti-KFC "kentucky Fried Torture" ads giving a lapdance.

Big props to the guys over at Eater.com for finding this one before me and giving me the best laugh I've had all day.

The catfish of lore.

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And thus we return back to the fundamental issue of gas station food. Although its initial quality may vary, the fried food will most certainly decrease in taste dependent on how many hours it's been sitting out. Since my catfish had been hanging out under a heat lamp for almost seven hours, the result was inevitable--dry and a little tough, which made the salt-and-pepper seasoning absolutely overpowering. Even the tartar sauce couldn't salvage how mediocre the fillet was.

The surprise were the gizzards: very salty and a bit chewy, I was impressed with how tender and substantial they were, particularly enhanced by the hot sauce (which I'm sure was the runny Mexican Valentina Salsa Picante.) The shrimp were pretty standard, and a great deal; I can see myself going back for ten pieces of shrimp for $2, with extra tartar sauce, for a snack on my way home from work.

I lament not being able to rave about my evening catfish, but it's really my fault; you've got to know when to go. If the idea of rising early for a 9 a.m. fried catfish fillet doesn't appeal to you, I'd recommend heading over during lunchtime, when the catfish is flying out of the display case. Or to beat the rush but still partake in what I'm sure was originally a succulent piece of fish, try heading over at around 2:30 PM.

Sweet Iron makes Belgian Waffles. It would also be an acceptable name for an aging blues man's steel guitar.

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Besides, I've always hated waffles. As a kid, my mom made me eat Eggo Waffles, which taste like foamy cardboard. Later I tried to get over my waffle hatred at upscale breakfast buffets, where there was inevitably some dude in a white lab coat standing quietly behind the waffle iron, waiting to take your order. These so called "Belgian" waffles always tasted to me like stale meringue cookies. Plus I hate the SHAPE of waffles: why are they a fucking GRID? Waffles look like what pancakes would look like if they were made by robots. Not to mention the political stigma attached to waffling. So I think it's safe to say that waffles suck.

Still, I wanted to give waffles YET ANOTHER shot, so I went to Sweet Iron. And I'm glad I did because the classic waffle ($2.99) is actually DAMN TASTY.

It's soft and fluffy, and mildly sweet. There's a lacy sugar crust that crunches delicately when you bite it, as if you were eating a fairy's wing. The waffles at Sweet Iron are yielding and cakelike and seem more like a cinnamon roll that's been stepped on by a football player than the crappy freezer-burnt discs of my childhood.

My only complaint about the classic waffle is that it comes dusted in powdered sugar instead of syrup. But this error can be corrected if you order the bacon waffle ($4.99). It's just a classic waffle with a couple slices of bacon on top, drizzled with REAL maple syrup. The bacon was crispy and the saltiness complemented the sugary pastry well.

Don't bother with the banana brulee waffle ($3.99), however. It's a diabetic death wish of sliced sautéed bananas, caramel sauce, and a pile of whipped cream. This sugary morass is what I imagine would spill out of Willy Wonka's torso if he committed seppuku. It's just too much; NO ONE should eat this for breakfast.

Beverages include the usual: orange juice is $2.50, Stumptown Coffee is for sale, and the workers at Sweet Iron can pull a decent latte ($2.90 for an eight-ounce cup). They've got Italian sodas, but only a fool would need any more sugar.

Sweet Iron cured my waffle hate. My main problem with this place, besides the banana brulee waffle, is the weird cold mod interior: it's like they stole the chairs from Crush (which stole its chairs from the set of 2001: A Space Odyssey). It's not very inviting. But that, I suppose, is just a quibble.

Rating: 7 Colt .45's out of 10

Sweet Iron is located at 1200 3rd Ave in Seattle
206-682-3336

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Like later in the evening, when my waitress, rather than asking me how I liked my dinner, simply shot me a look from the other end of the bar, raised a questioning eyebrow and, when I smiled, barked out, "I know, right!" and clapped her hands delightedly--a conversation had with the air.

This was Mistral Kitchen--part restaurant, part living work of art; all high-tech gadgetry and steampunk design, warm and cold at the same time, hard and soft, precise but casual. It was strange that one discreet space could be so many different things at once but, somehow, it worked.

I had brilliantly modern food there. I had unusually sourced rustic food. I had the first indisputably great meal I've had since coming to Seattle and, somewhat surprisingly, I had fun every time I stepped through the doors.

And you, dear readers, will get to read all about it tomorrow when the new issue hits the stands. It was a great week, full of science fiction short ribs, freaked-out cokeheads and charcuterie. I can't wait to tell you all about it.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!

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In less chipper news, Capitol Hill residents will no longer be able to have piroshkies with their morning coffee. Russian cafe Zhivago's on Broadway has closed after being in business for less than a year. The space is listed for sale online.

Alrighty, let's end this morning on a happy note: The Washington State Liquor Control Board plans to re-open a liquor store in Wallingford by May, according to Wallyhood. Conveniently, it will be located across the street from Dick's.

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On her blog, LaVigne writes, "Ok C&K fans, this is it! The final month where everything happens all at once and my brain hopefully doesn't go kablooey," before relating her to-do list: meeting with plumbers and CPAs, looking through cheese-expert resumes, and searching for the perfect baguette to go under her cheeses.

The pre-opening party is 5-11 p.m. Sunday, March 21.
Poco Wine Room, 1408 E. Pine St., 322-9463.

For more food events like this plus restaurant gossip and date night ideas, check out our weekly, Big Bites e-newsletter sent out every Tuesday. Sign up here and we promise we won't send you a bunch of spam.

This is not a pizza. This is a Chicago hand grenade.

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Everyone loves pizza, I wrote. More importantly, everyone loves fighting about pizza--who has the best, the worst, the most authentic, what style rules (New York thin) and what shouldn't really be considered pizza at all (Chicago-style deep-dish which might just as well be a casserole).

I know. I'm a jerk. But rather than just name-calling, why not suggest something that might change my mind? It's put-up-or-shut-up time, Seattle.

I understand that there are regional derivations in pizzas (which start thin as anything in the hallowed pizza fields of Brooklyn, then slowly get fatter and more ridiculous the further west they travel, peaking in Chicago, then thinning again, and attracting all manner of weird Spago-esque toppings as they continue on toward California), and that definite historical antecedents exists for the kind of deep-dish nonsense they get up to in the Windy City, like the French tarte a la tomate (a proper pie with a slightly raised crust, filled with tomatoes and other savory ingredients), the swollen-crust Roman Lazio-style pizza, the pissaladiere from Provencal (again, with a thicker crust and anchovies on top) and, most notably, the raised (or "coffin") pies of the British culinary tradition in which large, free-standing crusts were built up and filled with everything from pork to eels, I'm still sticking to my guns here. You can call me a douchebag all you want (real clever, by the way), but Chicago deep dish? Tomato pie, not pizza. A crusted casserole that has more in common with the Italian timpano than it does with a perfect New York-style thin-crust red-and-white. And this is coming from a man who has eaten them in the deep-dish's ancestral homeland and still not been swayed from his East Coast bias.

But, because I am an accepting cat, I have a challenge for you deep-dish boosters out there in Hotcakesland. Tell me where the best Chicago-style pizza pie is in the city of Seattle, and I will go there. With an open mind and a loving heart, I will dig in (with a shovel, most likely) and see if there's a deep-dish revelation waiting for me in my new home. I don't think that there will be, but hell... I'm willing to try anything once. And most things twice. So bring your A game, Seattle. Battle it out amongst yourselves in the comments section and let me know when you've reached some sort of consensus. My appetite and I will be waiting.

Ready...? Fight!

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As their latest newsletter explains, "Our landlord had a change of heart, and we are discussing the possibility of opening our commissary in Georgetown up to the public for breakfast and lunch mon-wed...it is looking fairly positive.......in fact chances are good we will be open at the least wednesday of next week..so stay tuned.."

Further explanation by Skillet owner Josh Henderson reveals, "If we do end up opening it, folks would have to enter through an unmarked back door. It would almost be like a speakeasy, but without the liquor."

Currently, the Skillet commissary is located in the Pacific Market Center (6300 5th Ave., S.).

"It might be a hassle for folks to find," says Josh, "but I guess if they can find a Skillet trailer they can find this."

As for the planned Skillet diner, Josh says it's moving full steam ahead.

"We are in discussions with landlords/investors, etc. and will hopefully be nailing down a location in the coming month. Our first inclination is Capitol Hill, but we are open to other locations and ideas."

Goat cheese and lavender panna cottas

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We took a seat at one of the tables within perfect viewing of one of several large screen televisions. Each table was decorated with beautiful rose bouquets and flickering candles. We were also seated next to yet another bar -- the third one I saw since exiting the elevator.

The entire, mostly female, crowd was decked out to the nines. I have never seen Seattle dressed so elegantly, even while dining at Canlis and The Herbfarm. I felt underdressed.

Nearly 300 people attended the event and consumed (are you ready for this?): 10 cases of oysters, three cases of caviar, 50 pounds of crab legs, more than 20 cases of champagne and 10 cases of Ciroc vodka. Stella beer and wine were also thrown back like water that night.

]]> Tue, 09 Mar 2010 07:00:00 -0800 http://blogs.seattleweekly.com/voracious/2010/03/death_sentence_for_salmon_eate.php http://blogs.seattleweekly.com/voracious/2010/03/death_sentence_for_salmon_eate.php

Sea lions: Jerks of the sea

​Here's something for all you animal rights activists to get upset about. Apparently, officials in Washington and Oregon (along with their bag-men from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) have called in a hit on all quote/unquote repeat offending sea lions making a snack of endangered Chinook salmon.

According to a piece up right now on the front page of the KOMO News website:

"Wildlife officials have tried everything to keep sea lions from eating endangered salmon, dropping bombs that explode under water and firing rubber bullets and bean bags from shotguns and boats. Now they are resorting to issuing death sentences to the most chronic offenders."

So they have bombs. They have guns. They have, according to reports, a death-list of 63 local sea lions, all identified by scars, brands or clever nicknames. And now, it looks as though the assassins are being dispatched because, just last week, a sea lion in California nicknamed Joey Salmon Face (okay, I made that up), became the first to be "euthanized" this year, following 11 killed last year and 4 moved to the sea lion calaboose--zoos and aquariums.

All the sea lions are doing is eating salmon which, if I'm not mistaken is pretty much all sea lions are designed to do other than make little sea lions and amuse me by balancing balls on their noses and playing squeeze-horns at Sea World. But still, the salmon defenders have decided that this is enough to warrant a contract being put out on the most efficient salmon-eaters, basically because sea lions aren't able to read the fine print of the Endangered Species Act.

Oh, but wait. The irony gets even better. First, some of the sea lions that are eating all the salmon are endangered themselves, so therefore can't be messed with. Stellar sea lions are a protected species, so they can't be messed with and can eat all they like. But California sea lions? Blast away.

Second, the Humane Society is claiming that fishermen catch three times as many salmon as the sea lions eat. Next up from NOAA: a most-wanted list of salmon fishermen who will be chased from their fishing holes with Wile E. Coyote-style dynamite traps baited with six-packs of Natural Light.

Third, the place where these sea lions are causing the most ruckus? The Bonneville Dam, east of Portland, where smart sea lions have realized that, because of the man-made fish ladders that allow the salmon to go upstream and over the dam, they are very easy pickings. So really, shouldn't some sea lion defenders out there be demanding the euthanization of the Oregon officials who put the dam there in the first place? I mean, the sea lions are just doing what sea lions do, in the most efficient way possible. Meanwhile, it was the planners and the fish and wildlife folks who built that dam that essentially created an all-you-can-eat endangered species buffet for the sea lions.

Oh, and what about all the Seattleites who just can't seem to help but eat salmon everywhere they go? Should there be officials from NOAA posted outside Ivar's and Ray's Boathouse and Steelhead Diner, armed with sandbag shotguns and concussion grenades, firing wildly into the crowds to keep people from eating the salmon on the menus there? I've seen the crowds at these places on a Friday night and I don't think they can stop eating salmon anymore than the sea lions could suddenly become vegetarian.

And yes, I know that none of these places are serving endangered species, but still... Up until very recently, it was perfectly okay to eat bluefin tuna, and look where we are now.

After a large meal, Max, the assistant Crocksman, always needs a nap.

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I should clarify my wardrobe situation. I live in a one-bedroom/one-bath/one-closet apartment. Most of my T-shirts sport beer brands or various events sponsored by my current employer, or both. So, I guess I'm not allowed to use the word wardrobe to describe the well of cotton and wool that I pull from every morning. But I think that had that hat fit, I could have made reference to my wardrobe without irony.

The hat was a tweed hat of a familiar style that I don't recall the name of, though I've seen it referenced as a Donegal Irish tweed hat, much like this one. It belonged to my late grandfather on my mother's side (this distinction will be more important after next week's column). All of my favorite accessories have been passed down from grandparents. My glasses belonged to my great grandfather (also on Mom's side, but of no blood relation to the grandfather I'm speaking of), and my wool Filson jacket that the Children's International pitchman on the street insists is flannel was handed down from my grandpa with the tweed hat (got that?).

Alright, the Irish hat. My grandpa was proud of the fact that he was Irish. He made at least one trip to Ireland. He had little Irish knickknacks that said things like, "I'm Irish, that's why." The only problem was that there wasn't an ounce of Irish blood in him. It's something of a family mystery why he claimed Irish heritage. My mom and grandma contend that -- being the jovial, good-natured man that he was -- my grandpa just enjoyed Ireland and its people.

Last summer I was having dinner with some of my cousins when the topic of our heritage came up. I'm 50 percent Dutch on my dad's side (again, more on this next week), and am a bit confused what I am on my other side, the side that I share blood with these cousins. They volunteered that we were part Irish. WHAT!?!?! It was a Santa's not real moment, but I had to break it to my young cousins that we are -- he wasn't -- actually Irish.

I'm sure if I were an Irishman, I would have cooked a hell of a better corned beef and cabbage than I did yesterday. The brisket/corned beef wasn't very tender, I didn't use enough pickling spice (which I used instead of a spice packet because the brisket I bought didn't come with one), and although it was in for a good 12 hours (on low), I just don't think that was enough. I should have left it on high for the last hour or so. Sometimes that transforms a piece of borderline beef to this side of heaven.

What I loved about it was the use of apple juice. This was my first time, but certainly not my last. I bought about 6.5 pounds of brisket on Sunday and think I only used up about 3.5 or 4 of it yesterday. I'll use up the rest this week, and maybe I'll try another variety with the apple juice. If anyone has some suggestions in that arena, I'm all ears.

This week's recipe went something like this:

-- One Brisket (3 pounds)
-- The spice packet it comes with (or pickling spice, at least two tablespoons)
-- One cup of brown sugar
-- One tablespoon of dijon mustard
-- Four cups apple juice
-- One medium onion, wedged
-- One cabbage, wedged
-- A few potatoes, cut into one-inch chunks

Instructions: Put the brisket in the crock and cover with the veggies. (I put the brisket on TOP of the veggies, because I've heard this make the veggies softer. I didn't, but it made the brisket drier and not very tender.) Mash up the juice, brown sugar, and mustard in a separate bowl, and pour over the brisket.

For more detailed instructions, check out the recipe at RecipeTips.com.

Number Two: Pete's Egg Nest

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2. Pete's Egg Nest, 717 Greenwood Ave. N., 784-5348. Plastered with photos of the gorgeous blue-and-white buildings that coat the Aegean islands, this Greek family joint is perfect for a nice morning breakfast or hangover recovery with a mediocre cup of coffee. But patrons are served like long-lost family, in attitude (gracious!) and in portion (enormous!). The South of the Border omelet (which looks more like a massive Italian frittata) is loaded with chorizo sausage, jalapeño peppers, cheddar cheese, mushrooms, onions and tomato, and each bite tastes like its burning out just a little more unpleasantness. The portions are nothing to laugh at--though, thankfully, not at the expense of taste or service--and you can count on carting home the second half of your breakfast after admitting defeat.

1. Portage Bay Cafe, 4130 Roosevelt Way N.E., 547-8230. Fresh. In one word, that cuts to the core of this University District favorite. The all-you-can-eat fruit bar and towering bowlful of whipped cream will distract (as it should) but avoid shortchanging the diner as nothing more than a pretty all-organic menu. The pork sausage omelet, filled with house-smoked sausage, aged gouda cheese, caramelized apples and shallots, is but one tasty example of the wonders it contains. Though omelets unfortunately don't include a free trip to the toppings bar, you can add it to your tab--and no one will blame you.

5 Point Café's deep fried mac n' cheese wedges

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In other news, 5 Point Café in Belltown launches its new happy hour this Friday. The 24-hour diner best known as the home of Seattle's biggest chicken fried steak (13 oz!), will serve $2 drafts, $3.50 wells, and $4.50 and under food like deep fried cheese curds, deep fried mac n' cheese, and cheeseburgers with fries (whoa, that's a lot of cheese) from 4-6 p.m. on weekdays. Get ready to have a heart attack pig out.

So that's why they always drink cosmos on Sex and the City...

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Yes, seriously. Researchers at Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston studied nearly 20,000 women over 13 years. During that course of time, the nondrinkers gained an average of nine pounds. The lushes drinkers? Just three pounds.

You know what that means.

Bottoms up, ladies!

Turn that frown upside down!

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Many people's experience with apps, especially the free ones, is that they're not always what they're cracked up to be. But this one is--and a whole lot more. Drinkers and deal-chasers, prepare to sit back and let your fingers do the walking.

Following are the results of our week-long test drive.

3:18 pm Monday, Downtown Seattle: Happy Hours brings up 205 results, including the Alibi Room, which offers $3 drafts, $4 wells and a $5 happy hour food menu that ranges from the expected (bruschetta) to the unexpected (mini spicy mac n' cheese).

6:47pm Monday, Alki Beach: A search on Happy Hours brought up nothing in this neighborhood. Disappointing as it was, a quick walk through this beachside enclave confirmed Happy Hours' results--no happy hours to be had! Apparently this neighborhood spends most of the year recovering from West Seattle's Greatest Happy Hour, otherwise known as Summer.

9:24am Tuesday, Ballard: Home to many a Norwegian fisherman, Ballard is perhaps the easiest neighborhood (other than downtown, which doesn't really count) to find a happy hour. Happy Hours didn't fall for this early morning trick and came back with one result for a Tuesday morning. The Hi-Life's "not-so-early bird" happy hour features $5 breakfast burritos, biscuits & gravy, flapjacks and panino. Happy Hours' users rate the Hi-Life #4 in Seattle, and #2 in Ballard, so this might be one to mark for p.m. happy hour as well. Maybe.

3:31pm Tuesday, First Hill & Capitol Hill: Lumping these two neighbors together in an "it's never too early for happy hour" Happy Hours search returns a respectable 22 results, from the lady-centric Wild Rose to the ball-centric Garage. Whatever whets your whistle, Happy Hours pretty much guarantees you a great selection.

3:12pm Wednesday, Burien & Northgate: Northgate has shopping, Burien has the best Bingo parlor of all time, and between the two there are 11 places to stop in for hump day happy hour. Happy Hours reports $2-$5 appetizers at the Saffron Bar & Grill in Northgate (ranked #6 in Northgate) to $2 Rainier drafts at the Sidestreet Kitchen & Bar in Burien (ranked #3 in Burien).

4:37pm Thursday, Georgetown: Never a neighborhood to disappoint, Happy Hours finds eight Thursday afternoon happy hours in Georgetown. $1 off appetizers and $1.50 PBR's at Georgetown Liquor Company (ranked #5 in Georgetown), $6 PBR pitchers and $4 wells at Smarty Pants (rated #2 in Georgetown), and $5 pizza and $8 ½ liter of house wine at Via Tribunali (#8 in Georgetown) cover just about any craving. Happy Hours even points out there's 1 hour 23 minutes left to get there.

1:15pm Sunday, West Seattle: Happy Hours reports only two results for this ho-hum timeframe, but the second one is deserving of an additional click. For there you find the Beveridge Place Pub--ranked #93 in Seattle, #7 in West Seattle for happy hour--which has happy hour from 12-6 both Saturday AND Sunday. Guess I know where I'll be watching the next game.

Oh, Happy Hours, I am really beginning to love you. I'm so glad I downloaded you and I'd do it again, forever and ever.

Cheers to you, my love.

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