Lloyd Martin

LloydMartin is cozy, with clubby dark wood everywhere, and I envisioned it in winter, the wall of windows steaming up, and lots of pastas and braised meats on the menu. But it was finally "summer" in Seattle, that brief respite from from the dark months, full of entropy, and devastating sadness, perked up by the occasional stew.  I digress.  

The chef knows what he's doing.  There wasn't a thing we didn't like– rare for us, especially with Mr. Pants (aka Fussy Pants) along for entertainingly critical commentary. Tucking into a plate of snap peas with chevre, grated horseradish, lemon and radish, we knew we were onto something good. And when we polished off the house mozzarella with English peas, mint, chili, and toasty bread we knew we were onto something great. 

Fettuccini Bolognese with Bison, and Mr. Pants' order of oxtail gnocchi (perfectly light and perfectly cooked) with foie gras emulsion, hit all our cravings for haute comfort food.  Other menu items that looked intriguing included poached shrimp with chorizo and white beans, duck confit, and braised veal with king oyster mushrooms.  Everything is served up on truly exquisite, unique antique plates. 

Strawberries on biscuit shortbread were balsamic-marinated, local, and red all the way through, and offset by creamy marscapone.  I love desserts that aren't too sweet, and this was a terrific meal-ender, even if there could have been more strawberries and less biscuit. 

Highlights: Ambiance, anything with meat, anything seasonal. 

Disappointments: Dessert could have used more strawberries, less biscuit.

Mr. Pants: Sated. Tiny bit miffed that he couldn't come up with anything critical to say.