Since I hit my word count for the week, we had brunch–at Volterra.
Until a week ago I didn’t actually know Volterra served brunch. I knew it was a very good Italian restaurant in Ballard, known for its oil soup (which is better than it sounds, and perhaps better than it has any business being). But I was reading a Seattle magazine listing what it thought were the best breakfasts in Seattle and they mentioned it.
They also mentioned the chestnut pancakes.
I’m going to put my stamp of approval here and say the chestnut and buckwheat flour pancakes–with their sauteed apples, their chestnut mascarpone, and whatever that syrup was (a really light maple?)–were worth 9000 words. Really tasty. The cappucino: eh. The husband makes a better one. But it was fine.
Word of warning: if you go, don’t let anyone order the egg white frittata. The husband got it and, while it was tasty, our food took forever. When the two women at the table next to us also ordered fritattas and asked why theirs was taking so long, the waiter said that particular dish is finicky and difficult to get perfect, so it sometimes takes a while. Long enough that the husband was eyeing the jar full of freezer jam and the ketchup left on the table beside us.