Renton is a suburb of Seattle, with about 100,000 residents in the 2020 census. It’s not as rich and snooty as Bellevue, not as working class as Kent and Auburn.
I grew up nearby, and knew the town well fifty years ago, but it’s not what it was. At least four of downtown Renton’s major stand-alone businesses from my era have gone defunct, and each has become a shabby-looking church.
A three-bus daily parlay takes me from West Seattle to downtown Renton each morning, and tootling along the city’s main drag, 3rd Street, there’s… well, not a lot to be seen.
Two square blocks of downtown Renton are what’s called the Renton Transit Center, where numerous bus routes converge. In theory this makes for easy transfers, but instead it’s a pain in the ass, another example of public transit designed by people who don’t ride public transit. See, the different routes all stop at different corners and different streets, so transferring from one bus to another involves walking a block or two. This morning, as often happens, the bus I needed to catch pulled away as I was walking the block toward its stop.
That bus runs only twice hourly, so I suddenly had time to kill, and decided to stroll 3rd Street. Maybe there’d be a coffee shop I hadn’t noticed from the bus window every morning, or a quirky convenience store, or a gun shop, and indeed, I found all three (Boon Boona Coffee, Rain City Market, Pinto Guns). My surprise, though, was Rubattino’s Diner.
It’s easy to miss. Peeking through a glass door mostly covered with flyers, I saw vinyl stools stretched along a long counter, the seats alternating between casually garish blue and red. Built circa 2000 would’ve been my guess, but a sign out front said, “Since 1917,” which decided everything. I wasn’t even hungry, but suddenly it was time for breakfast.
Soon as I’d passed through the door, a man’s voice called out cheerily, “Howdy, sit anywhere.” My preference is always the counter, so I saddled a blue stool facing a dark, empty bar. Huh? Why am I looking into a bar? Needed a long moment to make sense of the scene:
Sitting at the counter, you’re facing a wall that isn’t there, and looking into the business next door. It’s a tavern that’s being remodeled, but the wall isn’t temporarily missing; it’s gone by design. Well, there’s perhaps a yard of wall, but after that, open air and The Owl Room.
Oh, and I figured out later that it’s The Owl Room that’s been in business since 1917. Rubattino’s is much younger, probably circa 2000.
15 seats line the long counter, all facing into the bar. Ten booths are along the other long wall, the wall that’s there. The waiter, same guy who’d said to sit anywhere, offered coffee and poured, and it was sour java indeed, but that’s not a major minus. My favorite diner, Mrs Rigby’s, has lousy coffee some mornings, but the rest of the experience makes up for it.
The décor is old album covers tacked on the wall — Johnny Horton, Jim Nabors, Conway Twitty, the Bay City Rollers, The Ventures, and more. Mid-level rock’n’roll was playing, 1960s and ’70s stuff from when rock’n’roll existed. The tunes were coming from a radio, so ads intruded every few minutes.
The cook and kitchen are so far removed, I never saw either. The menu is standard diner fare. I ordered a vegetarian omelet.
Would’ve preferred a vegan omelet, but omelets tend to have cheese and eggs. No worries; I’m vegan at home, but vegetarian on the road, because limiting myself to vegan options at restaurants would basically eliminate restaurants.
My veggie omelet was heavy on spinach, which is not my vegetable of choice, but it also had green and red bell pepper slices, onions, mushrooms, and yellow & white cheese that stretched out warmly with every forkful. There were no perceptible tomatoes, and I approve — tomatoes have been genetically engineered to offer no flavor, only the color red, and the bell peppers handled that chore. The eggs, cheese, and veggies were more layered than unified, but the omelet was tasty. (My first eggs and cheese of the month.)
Offered my choice of shredded hash browns or country-style, I’d gone with the latter. Usually that means diced squares of potato, but Rubattino’s serves slices, like potato chips but fried on the grill instead of in a vat of oil. It was un-ordinary, very good, and a generous quantity, too.
I’d asked for an English muffin, and it was apparently steamed instead of toasted. An interesting choice and a new experience, the muffin was rubbery and squishy, but edible with strawberry jam. Also on the plate was a thick, juicy slice of orange, and a small pile of cantaloupe chunks.
Service was courteous, efficient. Coffee refills were offered often, and improved on that disappointing first cup. Other than the potatoes, the meal wasn’t anything special, but it was adequate, and nothing was barfed up afterwards. The tab was $21-something, which seems reasonable for these unreasonable times.
I wouldn’t hesitate to return to Rubattino’s, and it’s nice to know there’s a decent diner in downtown Renton. Also, a coffee shop, a quirky convenience store, and a gun shop. Despite all the churches, downtown Renton might be worth getting off the bus.
Rubattino’s Diner
Food & drink: good.
Price: good.
Service: good.
Transit: #101, #105, #106, #107, #148, #153, #160, #240, #560, #566, #907, RapidRide #F.
Verdict: YES.
5/17/2026
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