Chelan Cafe is a mom & pop diner in an awful place. Named for the state’s largest lake, and more immediately for the street it’s on, it’s literally in the shadow of a freeway. The setting, then, is concrete pillars, with a layer of grime and soot, while cars, buses, and trucks hurry by, even on the ground level streets. The traffic lights and the cafe as the only reasons to stop.
Outside it’s mostly white and clean despite all the traffic 24/7, so they must scrub the walls and windows often. Inside it’s colorful, mostly yellow and white that evokes a sunrise, and makes it feel bright, welcoming on an early morning. There are a thousand framed pieces of art on the walls, and a dash of neon by the kitchen. It looks like a scene from a 1950s movie, where kids might go after school for a malted.
The Chelan has been there since 1938, and it’s a big place, with three linked dining rooms. It seemed about half-full when I arrived at 8AM on a Tuesday, with 100+ customers, 15 at the counter, which curves around corners, and has about thirty stools. Ample stools were still available, and I’m a counter guy, so that’s where I sat.
I ordered coffee, a cinnamon roll, and a Chelan Scramble, which is three eggs with diced ham, mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and diced tomatoes.
The waitstaff is entirely young women, and I rather like young women. But if all the waitresses in a 75-year-old restaurant are young, it means they don’t stay long, and they’re probably hired for their sex appeal. My waitress was pretty, and so were each of the several other waitresses on duty, but breakfast is not served with a side order of sex. Being a fat old man, the service generally seems better at places where some of the waitstaff are past their 20s.
Indeed, service at the Chelan was perfunctory. The waitress smiled, took my order, vanished for ten minutes, then brought my breakfast and vanished again. Since I was seated at the counter, she was often five or ten feet from me, but still she somehow vanished.
The restaurant was not short-staffed, though. There were four waitresses, keeping busy but also chatting between themselves behind the counter.
The kitchen is visible from where I sat, and while waiting for my food some camaraderie played out between a very big man at the grill (think Chief Broom, from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest) and an ordinary-sized Mexican man beside him. They joked loud enough for customers to hear, but not obtrusively, then dueted on a few bars of “Dancing in the Street.” It was a smile for anyone who noticed.
The coffee was pretty good, and came with a bowl of plastic-sealed creamers (from ‘Wholesome Farms’, a Sysco product) which couldn’t be opened. The plastic covers are supposed to peel back, but despite fumbling with them for half a minute, there was no getting at the cream until I stabbed at the plastic with my knife, and dribbled the dairy into my coffee.
No refills were offered, but one was poured when I asked for it. I would’ve asked for a second refill, but again the waitress had vanished.
The cinnamon roll was adequate, but probably store-bought. Not stale but certainly not fresh, it was large, dry, only vaguely tasty, and microwaved, but not hot enough to melt the blob of butter that topped it.
The roll is the reason I’m reviewing the Chelan Cafe, because this was my third visit, always ordering a cinnamon roll, and always they’ve been the same. If I actually write a review, maybe I’ll remember and stop ordering the cinnamon roll?
The hash browns were exactly right, which is to say fully cooked, unlike most restaurants where they’re consistently underdone.
The eggs were flat instead of fluffy, but tasted OK, and the fillings were generous and good.
The toast was borderline burned, but I’m not complaining, because it’s served with jams from Sunfresh, a local company that’s the best. Each jam is the same size and shape as the Smuckers single-serve that accompanies toast at most restaurants, but Sunfresh tastes like it comes from fruit, not a factory. Even on slightly blackened bread, the jam made it the best toast since my last stop at the Chelan.
It was an adequate meal, certainly better than Denny’s, and reasonably priced. If you happen to be driving under the west end of the West Seattle Bridge, you could do worse than breakfast at the Chelan Cafe.
It’s kinda sad, though, when the best thing about a breakfast is the pre-packaged jam.
Chelan Cafe
3527 Chelan Ave SW, Seattle WA (West Seattle)
Food & drink: OK
Price: OK
Service: Meh
Transit: #21, #50, #125, RapidRide #H
Verdict: MAYBE.
11/21/2024
itsdougholland.com
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