Pike Place Market flowers and lunch veranda in the summertime.

Victor Steinbrueck Park

Strolling down the outdoor sidewalk of vendors there were a few that caught my eye. One was a Chinese man who makes signs in 15 minutes, translating anything into beautiful Mandarin characters using black calligraphy ink. Sample signs hung on the chicken-wire wall that read, “Mike Loves Julie,” or simply, “Jessica.” One artist had compressed glass wine bottles, and turned them into kitchen ornaments. Each had a unique logo and was garnished with a hay bow around its neck. Other vendors were selling leather handbags, wooden garden signs, and unique jewelry.

Outdoor Boulevard

Wooden signs; Park and Puget Sound in the background.

I got to chatting with another artist who had watercolor prints and originals on display. He said he specialized in painting nude female figures, and also liked to challenge himself with water scenes. One vibrant print was of a crowd of rowboats floating atop the ocean at sunset; and his latest piece was a collection of colorful, Coy fish swimming underwater.

Inside there were a lot of delightful booths. The first stand I stopped at featured home-made, painted light-switch covers made of clay in all shapes and colors. Some had intricate designs carved into the borders, and others looked like Red Alder leaves, and were painted in rustic, fall colors. There was a professional spoonmaker, and Market penmaker. There was a table laden with inscripted stones. Some had funny sayings on them like, “YOU ROCK!” and “At least you’re not as old as this rock!” Others had inspirational quotes, and still there were larger rocks with more practical engravings like, “Please remove your shoes.”

Friendly craftsman.

Walking through the open-air promenade of Pike Place there’s a couple things you’ll always see—fresh produce and flowers. But farmers also bring their home-made spreads to sell, such as berry jams and honey; another vendor packages up dried snacks from his hazelnut orchard. I stopped by a Honey Farm booth and bought 4, 25-cent honey straws—one each in rootbeer, peach, pink lemonade and honey clover. There were also   whole jars of wild blackberry, rum spice, espresso, and spiced apple honey.

I spoke with a young flower arranger from Maika’s Garden about her family-owned flower farm in Carnation that has been selling flower bouquets at the Market for the past 19 years. She said that some of the senior flower arrangers had been there for more than 20 years.

Maika's Garden

Unlike my last trip, today was a great day for peach and nectarine samples from Sosio’s Fruit Produce. I also chatted with one of their produce experts and he explained that orange and red-crusted lobster mushrooms are on the harder side of mushrooms, so their rich, meaty flavor does well in soups. In addition to the great fruit samples and friendly staff, Sosio’s always has a wide assortment of unique produce, such as purple cauliflower and raspberry beans.

Fresh produce at Station No. 7; chili pepper bunches for sale hang from the ceiling.

To refuel, I stopped by the Athenian Restaurant, famous for being the bar in Sleepless in Seattle where Tom Hanks and his construction friend sit and discuss current dating trends. You might remember the friend saying, “Hellooo, Diane! Take a look at these swatches!” Anyways, since they offer beer and food, and are one of the restaurants in the market to offer widespread views of the sound, I stepped on in. I tried the Athenian Gyro, which features lamb sausage from Uli’s Famous Sausage stand (which I sampled from on my previous trip), and washed it down with Manny’s Pale Ale—a delightful, hoppy and crisp micro-beer brewed in West Seattle.

Manny’s Pale Ale and the Athenian Gyro from the 2nd story of Athenian Seafood Restaurant and Bar.

For dessert I sucked on a clover honey straw and stared out the restaurant’s second-story window watching a parasailor in the sun. The faint silhouette of the chiseled and snow-capped Olympic mountain range served as a backdrop, and the boats left sparkling, saltwater wakes along the Sound.

Foggy view of the Seattle skyline from the top of the Eastgate parking garage.

I got off the metro bus at the University Street underground tunnel stop, and grabbed a hot mocha in Benaroya Hall’s lobby-Starbucks for my 3 block walk, and beyond. Although the weather’s still cloudy when I arrive, the sight of the Market is always refreshing, especially in the summertime when all of the adorning plant-life is full of colorful blossoms.  

Famous 'Public Market Center' sign and clock.

Walking up to the market there’s an expected crowd around the famous fish stand that features 8 (15 at Christmastime) men in fishing waders and hats. It’s so fun to watch these guys toss seafood around in the air. Walking by I hear a low-baritone, “4 King Crab legs,” bellowed in unison after some lucky patron places an order. What’s even more awesome is that when a whole fish is bought and flung behind the counter to be wrapped in newspaper, whether or not the slippery King Salmon or Red Snapper is actually caught (I mean, it usually is), the mood never changes; the air is always thick with big laughs and camera flashes.  

Starbucks coffee; whole Salmon for sale.

Dungeness Crab on ice.

Since it was a bit dreary outside, I decided to avoid the main open-air promenade, and venture down the aromatic hallways and explore the lower levels of Pike Place. I pass a flower shop, and today they have a doorway-stand of blue roses. There’s a table packed with rows of packaged dried apricots, papayas, strawberries, and bananas. Jewelry cases are filled with a wide variety of accessories. From matching tin-man earrings, or sterling silver cross-pendants and chains, to unique owl and butterfly rings filled with colored stones of peridot, amethyst, onyx, and amber. I continue perusing, and wherever I am it seems I can always hear the faint sound of music in the breeze.   

Musician playing the Blues.

Banjo Player

In an airplane I once watched a special on “bizarre bazaars,” and remember the baskets of milled, exotic spices that filled the city-center market of Istanbul. Walking along the corridors I see MarketSpice; this great store has been selling ground spices, teas and coffees since 1911. 

Jars of ground spices line the shelves of a MarketSpice window.

 The lower levels of Pike Place are packed with great shopping. There are book stores, candy shops, antique and curiosity trade stores filled with everything from pink glass swans and old clocks, to framed bats and butterflies. There’s a busy barber shop, with old-fashioned red, white and blue-striped columns trimming the doorway. Penny Pincher machines stand outside the Pike Place Magic Shop. You’ll also find vintage clothing and jewelry, and parfumeries filled with medicinal teas and incense sticks. 

A collection of Where's Waldo books in a storefront window. These make great childrens' gifts.

There was a pig, too; the woman at the cash register said she left work smelling like Gummi Bears.

Window outside F n J Great Western Trading.

At this point, I definitely needed something to eat. I had tried a sample wedge of sausage from Uli’s, smelled chocolate pasta noodles at station No. 8, and walked by canned pickle stands and a few oceanview restaurants. Now I needed to eat the sustenance! Luckily, a stool opened up on an R & R platform, and I was able to eat my packed lunch on a wooden counter overlooking a very gray Puget Sound. It had started to rain, and through the streaming window I could see burnished-orange cranes standing off the southern shore of the industrial inlet, and white ferries looked like legos as they toted passengers to and from the islands. 

If I hadn’t packed a sandwich, I would’ve loved to eat at Crepe de France. "Crepe Au Salmon" and "Crepe Au Chocolat" looked especially enticing.

Back on the top floor, I could see many people grievously prop open their umbrellas, while some kids seemed to be okay walking around with balloon hats. As I weaved around the faded-teal columns propping up the roof of the upper floor, I was feeling a bit glum that it had started to rain as I was expecting the sun to break through. All of the sudden, I heard someone very energetically singing: “Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer.” As I got closer, I could see a couple of long-haired, smiling musicians standing atop plastic crates, dancing around, and belting that Monkeys tune out while cars sloshed over the glossy cobblestone street behind them. Rocky Raccoon came on next, and I had to give them 50 cents in dimes. Although they were lacking John Lennon’s fantastic harmonica for this song, they did boast an accordion. On this note, I headed for home.