
A New Jersey Division of Alcoholic Beverage Control investigation has found that 29 bars and restaurants, including 13 TGI Fridays, allegedly substituted cheap booze (or worse!) while charging for premium drinks:
At one bar, a mixture that included rubbing alcohol and caramel coloring was sold as scotch. In another, premium liquor bottles were refilled with water — and apparently not even clean water at that.
In January and February, investigators went to 63 establishments they suspected were scamming liquor customers. They ordered drinks neat — that is, without ice or mixers — and then covertly took samples for testing.
Of 150 samples collected, 30 were not the brand as which they were being sold.
Why can't government regulators leave the market to sort this out for itself? Nanny-statism at its worst!
After reading about this NYC speakeasy hidden in a water tower...
Mr. Austin located a suitable water tower by scouring Buildings Department records for violations with egregious scaffold fines. That can indicate a neglectful landlord, he said, which meant it might be a vacant building ripe for adopting as one’s own.
One Saturday night last month, 12 guests squeezed through the trap door into the space. “The great thing about the upright bass is how it got up here,” said Dirby Luongo, one of Mr. Austin’s collaborators who played the doorman. “It’s like a ship in a bottle.”
... the first thing I thought of was Bigger Thomas using a water tower for shelter in Native Son. Whether your situation is as frivolous as a speakeasy or as dire as a fugitive, the water towers of American cities can be a shelter—but only temporarily.
Posted by news intern Ansel Herz.
Two weeks ago, we reported on a reported assault on a police officer—specifically, a marijuana pipe allegedly tossed at an officer's head.
This week brings another report of an inventive, alleged assault on an officer—perhaps the work of a copycat criminal? Last Tuesday afternoon, a humble police officer was driving past University Playground when he noticed a man carrying "a large can of beer in his left hand," according to a police report. Specifically, a 24-ounce can of Stack High Gravity Smooth Lager, a malt liquor celebrated for its "sugar covered dried apricots, cotton candy and green apple" flavor with "lively carbonation and a long, boozy finish."
The can was open, and since carrying around open cans of alcohol in public is decidedly not legal—not even on hot, beautiful sunny days, when all you crave is an orange-colored malt beverage with minimal head—the officer rolled down his passenger side window and instructed the suspect to pour out his beverage, the report states.
The suspect reportedly ignored the command and kept walking, so the officer "moved his patrol vehicle into the crosswalk to block his path," the report continues. Ordered once again to dump out the malt beverage, the suspect bent over—looking into the officer's passenger window—and began to comply. But when the can was about half empty, the suspect suddenly "threw the can through the open window." It was a direct hit, the report notes. The can struck the officer in the upper right arm and its contents "poured onto the right side of his uniform," probably causing the officer to reek of sweet citrus with a boozy finish. The officer immediately got out and arrested the suspect, whereupon the man "began professing that he was sorry and that throwing the beer was stupid," the report notes.
Once at the North Precinct, the suspect reportedly confessed to another officer that he had thrown the half-full can at the officer and that "he was sorry," the report reiterates. The officer did not require medical attention.
A note to Seattle police officers: Stay on your toes and watch out for flying paraphernalia. And to the residents of Seattle, a polite reminder: pot and booze are to be consumed and enjoyed, rather than flung at people.
Capitol Hill finally has a place to eat that is open all day and all night. After Basic Plumbing—the windowless, louche gay bathhouse on 10th and Pike—closed its clammy doors, David Meinert (5 Point/Big Mario's) and Jason Lajeunesse (Neumo's/Moe Bar/etc.) turned the space into 24-hour diner Lost Lake Cafe & Lounge (with an accidental, but hopefully cleansing, fire occurring during the process). They promise "the stiffest drinks on the Hill" (stiffest-er than the Crescent*?! Lord help us) and "no pretentious deconstructed anything, just real food for real people at great prices." The atmosphere is retro-Twin-Peaks-y, and we hear that the tuna melt is good, and there is pie.
*UPDATE: Or stiffest-er than C.C. Attle's, as commenter kittenalarm rightfully asks!?
The story, which is my column and set in San Francisco's airport, ends like this...
While walking to the airport's ground transportation area, the most amazing thing happens: I see Henry Louis Gates Jr. standing right there in front of me. The famous Harvard professor and literary critic is on a cell phone, having a deep conversation. But when he notices that I know who he is, he stops talking and greets me. I tell him it's such an honor to meet him. I tell him I love his books and essays. I do not, however, mention that incident with the dumb cop, or the drinks [the beer summit] he had with that dumb cop and our president... I ask if I can take a picture of him, and he allows me to do so. I take the image, thank him, shake his hand, and leave. Later, when checking the image as I approach the airport's exit, I realize that my drunkenness spoiled it. I did not hold the camera steady, and so now possess a blurred image of one of the most famous black American intellectuals in history.

...but sometimes I can't help myself. An ongoing email exchange:
Hope you get AIDS Fagget
It's "faggot."—Dan
LOL commie
LOL illiteratie.—Dan
Best illiterate than a cock sucker with AID. Hope you get AID fag.
Let me help you with that: "Better illiterate than a cocksucker [one word!] with AIDS. Hope you get AIDS, fag."—Dan

The Bus Stop is gone. So is the 1st Hill Bar & Grill. And the Broadway Grill.
And now the tiny, classic Viking Tavern—serving Ballard since 1950, with the photographs of opening day and timelessly great ambiance to prove it—is closing forever.
Here's an interview with longtime owner Tim Cannon, including when and why the Viking started selling fresh eggs by the dozen.
And here's an appreciation of both the Viking's barbecue and the place as a Seattle institution by Rachel Kessler from way back in 2001:
There is something about the Viking that reminds me of old Seattle: the lush and green and lonely Seattle of the 1970s, imbued with the infinite sadness of spent resources and industrialized, polluted, then abandoned riverbanks. In the old Seattle, there were weeds, and dogs without leashes. The paint peeled off houses and nobody bothered the city council about it. My grandpa, a lean man who sleeps with a gun under his pillow in his mossy rambler out in Preston, would drink at the Viking if he lived in Ballard. I imagine both my grandparents being very comfortable at the Viking, in fact, with their pair of Dobermans, Acey and Deucy, at attention next to several rib bones picked clean...
The ground upon which the Viking stands will become a development called the Ballard Lofts. Please join me now in a moment of silent hating of the world.

As of tomorrow at closing time, the neon lights at Ninth and Madison will be no more. After 34 years and some health troubles, the owner of Greek-American 1st Hill Bar and Grill has decided to sell. Marti Jonjak’s Happiest Hour love note doubles as an elegy for one of the last truly old-school Seattle restaurant-and-lounges:
The 1st Hill Bar & Grill is a deeply charming dive that's been around forever. Occupying the front space: a pleasant, ordinary diner with old men and mauve seashell-print upholstery and garlands of plastic ivy. But the back lounge blooms into a distinct and unexpected realm—vast and still, with glossy orange underlights and murals on every wall depicting famous Greek ruins.
Come say your goodbyes!
There's a silver lining to this story: The buyer is Ridgley Kuang, owner of the two Green Leaf locations—one serves the best Vietnamese food in Belltown (no contest) and the other serves arguably the best Vietnamese in the International District (we can fight about it in the comments). I go to the Belltown Green Leaf so often that the waitresses know how I like my iced coffee and sometimes send over free dessert.
Kuang isn’t opening another Green Leaf; he thinks two is enough. The new restaurant will be called Lotus Asian Kitchen and Lounge, following a few months of remodeling. Some Green Leaf dishes might migrate, but the menu will have more of an experimental, Asian-fusion vibe, plus a full bar.
And if you find yourself wandering First Hill, in need in of old-fashioned, homey ambience and cheap, serviceable souvlaki, there’s always Mediterranean Kitchen.
Literally the last paragraph of this KING 5 News story headlined "Some big name retailers caught selling liquor to minors" is:
[Liquor control board] officials say that compliance checks at spirits retailers show that 93 percent of them are following the law and denying sales to minors. That’s about the same compliance rate that liquor stores had when they were run by the state.
That is basically everything I wanted to know. All of the "news" preceding that—about liquor stings and how many citations each store has (the highest is Safeway, with nine citations)—doesn't seem super-relevant once you read the above paragraph. You can let your kids back out of the house now, folks! The streets are as safe (or unsafe) as they always were.

From this week's I, Anonymous:
Over the first 16 years of your life, I had four jobs and was fired from all of them. My evaluations would say things like "The poorest work habits I've ever seen." I felt entitled to cheat, lie, use people, and hurt people (ask your mom) out of what I called anger. But it wasn't anger. It was self-pity. And its fuel was alcohol. Sound familiar? Dude, it runs in families. Your mother and your sister and I all wish we could force you to get sober, but all of us know it doesn't work that way. All I can say is that when I finally dumped alcohol, everything fell into place for me. And you're like me. I only hope it doesn't take until you're fifty-fucking-five years old to snap to the fact, because this show is getting hard to watch.
And from this week's I, Anonymous comments:
How nice for you that you got sober AFTER your children were grown. Ruin their lives with your alcohol-fueled abusiveness, then find sobriety in time for you to be able to enjoy the rest of your life. You deserve the pain of watching your son be the train wreck you created. Choke on it.
Get in on the context-free judgment of anonymous people's lives here.
Posted by news intern Ansel Herz
At a wet housing complex in downtown Seattle last Saturday, April 13, three "very intoxicated" men watching a Clint Eastwood movie were interrupted by a fourth "extremely intoxicated" man who insisted on changing the channel, according to a police report. A fight ensued, resulting in much spilled beer.
The "wet housing" complex is so named because it helps formerly homeless chronic alcoholics fight their addictions with the aid of social services, a bed, and roof overhead.
Staff kicked out a man with "impaired speech, balance and coordination" from the dining area around 7:30 p.m. for causing disturbances, reports Officer Christopher Myers. The man made his way to the TV room, where he tried to change the channel from a Clint Eastwood flick. When the movie's three viewers objected, the suspect allegedly grabbed one of Clint Eastwood-watchers "with both hands and applied pressure to strangle him," the report states.
The report fails to note which Clint Eastwood movie the suspect objected to—if we're talking about Trouble With the Curve, dude may have been justified.
The men grappled for a bit until the suspect "paused to put on both of his slippers, then without warning punched [the man] again in the face."
There's a big ol' beer fight brewing in Olympia right now, and beer fans and brewers are throwing a rally at the Capitol this Friday at noon to "Defend Washington Beer" by fighting an extension and increase of beer taxes.
Some background: A couple of years ago, Washington State temporarily raised its beer excise tax in a big way, exempting our many small-scale brewers in the process. It was a 50-cent-per-gallon increase on beer sold in the state by large breweries (meaning those that produce more than 60,000 barrels a year), which works out to about $24 per barrel—a big increase from around $8 a barrel before. For breweries not hitting that 60,000-barrel mark, the tax was (and still is) just under $5 a barrel. The only local brewery large enough to even qualify for the increase was Redhook; the other companies whose beer got a tax increase were big out-of-state beer giants.
To be clear, this is a tax paid when beer is sold; it's passed on to you, the consumer. In 2010, when this beer tax was proposed, the big companies fought it some, but consumers seemed to largely brush it off—it was a few cents more per six-pack, and on corporate beer after all.
But this year, Governor Inslee has proposed making the surcharge permanent as well as eliminating the exemption for smaller breweries, all in service of education funding. And given that we have an incredibly vibrant microbrewery culture here, this time around, people are getting righteously pissed.
Extending this tax to all our small breweries will add up to about $20 per barrel of delicious, locally produced, local-job-supporting beer, effectively quadrupling the current tax rate. A separate house budget proposal put forth by Dems would basically double the tax rate for small brews while lowering the tax a bit on the big guys. (It'll still end up higher for large breweries, just not by as much as before.)
The beer nerds at Seattle Beer Blog have been covering this very well here. And your favorite brewers themselves have been raging, most recently Georgetown Brewing Company's cofounder and owner, Roger Bialous, who laid it out this morning:
To have some context for the house proposal, it is important to understand that in the old days, small brewers paid $4.78 per barrel and big brewers paid $8.08. Then, three years ago, big brewers got hit with an additional $15.50 per barrel, bringing their total to $23.58. That is really high. Small brewers were mercifully exempted from this. To our credit, over that time (and the whole time, frankly) our industry has done nothing but create jobs and pump money back into our state’s economy buying hops from the Yakima valley and malt from Vancouver, and of course our employees spend their checks in the towns where they live.
Bialous's full statement is below the jump, and a good read. Essentially, small brewers (and their customers) are arguing that the state's beer industry should be treated with a little more care and respect, since it's a point of pride for the state and a boon to the economy. The Dems argue that we need to fund education somehow, and it's incredibly tempting to pass sin taxes—it's hard to pick the "beer" side in the argument "beer vs. children."
But Olympia may have seriously underestimated the beer culture around here and how willing people may be to put up a fight.

Posted by Chow intern Kim Fu.
Liberty owner Andrew Friedman is opening a new bar. He gave us the details.
Where: 1720 East Olive Way, at the corner of Olive and Harvard, in the space in the house that for years was Online Coffee (then, briefly, Online Cafe). Friedman says, "Yeah, they really stretched when they named that one."
Name: No name yet. "Naming a bar is kind of like naming a baby. You have one chance to do it right." (Friedman's own brand-new baby girl is named Bowie Friedman.)
The concept/space: "It’s going to be as if you’re just going to your friend’s house and having a drink. Or your friend who lives in a really nice place, because none of us live in nice places. Not design-heavy—you just walk in and you’re like, 'Wow, this is cool.' Instead of like every other bar—mine included—having tables, [where] you walk in and you know you’re in a bar, you just come in, hang out, and drink at someone’s house. A lot of couches, very comfortable, that kind of thing."
"It’s just a naturally great space... You walk in and you feel great."
The capacity will be 60-ish people, with a 15-seat bar, which Friedman admits is not like your friend's place, but, he says: "We love being bartenders. We love being able to make drinks for people and stand behind the bar." They're also going to pre-batch specialty drinks instead of doing one-by-one craft cocktails: "You can make a really great drink without taking the time to make a six-ingredient drink every time." Of course, you'll still be able to order whatever cocktail you want, too. And they'll be expanding the deck into an all-season patio.
When: "It should not take a long time, because there’s not a terrific amount to do—it’s just that you never know how long the city takes to give us our permits—because we’re doing everything legally. A novel concept for a lot of bars. So if it’s open in two months, we’d be stoked."
Food: "It’s not going to be a chef-centric type of food. It’s going to be light, really tasty, really good, and very satisfying, but it’s not going to be a deep menu." He has no idea who will be in the kitchen yet—it's not a secret, they just don't have a chef yet.
On juggling a newborn baby and a new business: "You just make it work. Life puts stuff in front of you, and you just kind of hold it in, keep moving forward. The baby has no idea what’s going on. She’s not contributing much to the design process." Meanwhile, the opening process is going "smooth as the bottom of a newborn baby."
Why now: He was a consultant for the previous owner, and they kept in touch. "And one day he called and said, 'Hey man, you want this space? I don’t want to do it.' And I was more than happy to say yes."
Posted by Chow intern Kim Fu.
Last night, Bookstore Bar tentatively revived their spirits tasting events, staring their new season with whiskies from the Kilbeggan Distilling Company. Bartender Damien Lynch greeted us thusly: “Welcome back to Third Mondays, on this first Thursday. And if that doesn’t make sense to you, don’t worry about it, because it won’t be on the third Monday anymore.” The bar itself was packed, elbows jockeying into position in the small space, but tasters were ushered into one of the conference rooms at back of the Alexis Hotel. Seated at long, narrow tables that formed a perimeter around room with office-bright lighting, one feels somewhere between a business conference attendee and a judge on American Idol.
Bookstore didn’t promise anything more than “food,” and $45 didn’t seem that exorbitant for four-plus pours of quality whiskey, so I expected to be fighting over a couple appetizer platters. Surprise! We were served a five-course dinner. I’d missed lunch that day, toiling in the intern mines, and I still left full.

The “whiskey expert” David Beams was late (he’d been teaching a class on the perfect Manhattan at Ivar’s—no, really) so Lynch introduced the opening cocktail, a chilled tipperary with byrrh instead of vermouth: mild, medicinal, with no burn in the mouth and a deep burn in the belly. The first whiskey, the flagship Kilbeggan, with an unmistakable chocolate flavor (actual chocolate, not the “chocolate” regularly used to describe flat bitterness in liquor), was paired with a barley and pea shoot salad. The salad was plain and pleasantly hearty—the meaty heap of barley reminded my companion of vegetarian ground beef—as were all the dishes that followed. At first, it struck me as a little boring, but I came to see it as a perfect backdrop for the whiskies: The food bolstered, refreshed, and never vied for center stage. The braised lamb shoulder in the “Irish stew” (quotation marks theirs), paired with the Tyrconnell—a whiskey-drinker’s single malt that sets your nostrils on fire even in a tapered glass—just tasted like good lamb, simple and unadorned, floating in a comforting potato-parsley broth that left a light gloss of grease on your lips.
Beams arrived in time to explain the corn-based, single-grain Greenore—honey-sweet and “basically an Irish bourbon”—served with glazed pork, a delicate, lacey layer of fat over fortifying black-eyed peas. A few spoonfuls of sweet tea granita cleared the way for dessert, though the tea was too weak and amounted to a martini glass of sugared ice; it really could have used some other, balancing flavor, some tartness. The apple galette wore a hat of melted aged sharp cheddar, another down-home, not-too-rich touch; everyone made enthusiastic noises at its pairing with the peaty Connemara, like smoking a cigar at the end of a meal.
It’s a perfect event for a certain kind of personality, namely, mine—stick-in-the-muds who occasionally want to analyze their food in stark lighting and hear effusive, academic descriptions of their drinks with a minimum of “WOO!”s. The crowd skews older and power-suited—a downtown location and $45 price tag will do that—and there’s a sales-pitch air to the whole thing (we were given T-shirts, soapstone whiskey rocks, and Kilbeggan pins), but it was clear people were having a great time. Beams gave a lively history of Kilbeggan since 1557, as the oldest continuously operating distillery in Ireland, and every time he mentioned Prohibition, several people loudly hissed and booed. He wandered the room, answering questions and pouring everyone extra glasses from a display bottle. Bookstore/Library Bistro’s new-as-of-February chef, Chris Lobkovich (formerly of Poquitos and Mill Creek Country Club) was forced out of the kitchen near the end of the meal. Lynch announced that it had been the first tasting event under Lobkovich, who smiled nervously, still in his apron. We applauded.
Bookstore intends to have a spirits tasting about every three months, though they’re still hazy on the scheduling. Lynch hinted that the next one would be bourbon-themed; keep watch on their Facebook page.
Ever since we privatized liquor sales in Washington State, people have been slowly figuring out new liquor-buying routines. And I haven't figured it out yet at all. I don't tend to go to the former state stores that have now become liquor marts because the now-higher prices are still so jarring and I rarely see sales like I can find at a grocery store. But the selection at most grocery stores is totally abysmal and frustrating. Surely I am not alone in this? (I am admittedly kind of a doofus, but still.) This weekend, a reader wrote in to ask if we'd considered reviewing liquor stores, and it's a fucking great idea. But where to start? I, for one, would appreciate a little crowdsourced knowledge of the new boozescape. Where do you buy your liquor? Who has the best selection? Who has the best prices? Are there any tricks? (Other than setting up your own still, please.) Or is everyone just going on massive liquor runs to California every few months?
Saturday Night Live put this one at the very end of their show last week, probably because of the handjob joke and/or because it's just really weird, but the more I watch it, the more I like it.
Thanks champagne!
I think they do! Check out some of these funtime folks from last Saturday's Penumbra Beer Bash. More photos (and a video posted by a fellow named Brian Behrens) after the cut...


Saturday evening happenings: It's a full bar, and people are calmly tossing around sentences coded with delightfully horrifying information: "The bride had alcohol poisoning during the wedding, her sister kept flipping off the cameras." "My lips are tattooed, my eyeliner is tattooed." "I bought a Jagerator earlier this week, it's sitting in my living room."
Happy hours: Daily 4–7 pm, Sun–Thurs 10 pm–close.
Happy-hour drink specials: $2 off wine; $1 off wells and beer, which means $3.66 drafts (Manny's, Roger's) and $2.65–$4.25 bottles (Blue Moon, Strongbow Cider, BridgePort IPA, more).

But humans are endlessly entertaining and fascinating. They have big brains and all kinds of unexpected things come out of their mouths, especially when they are drinking. And this is the point: I don't go to bars for the booze but for the people. One can drink alone at home, but that is always sad and even unproductive. You don't learn anything from being by yourself. Drinking is always best when it's social. In a word, I want the reader to consider this column as my small contribution to anthropology, the study of humans and their behavior.
With the remaining space of this column, let me tell you about my recent visit to a relatively new and lovely bar on Beacon Hill called the Oak—it's run by the people behind Redwood on Capitol Hill. I had drinks during this visit: a glass of white wine by Corfini Cellars ($6), a Seattle-based wine distribution company, and a cocktail called Booch Smooch ($7), which contains kombucha tea, cranberry juice, and vodka made by Sun Liquor.
I think you should go have one with Pammy, here, before she's bulldozed to into the ground, to make room for more condos. Click the photo, to read more...

What else: They have free Cheetos! Not the standard crunches, but the swollen variety whose forms resemble the spongy black snakes that spritz up from certain firework tablets. Justin hypothesizes that this is how Cheetos harvests the puffs—that, following ignition, "they form long tubes that are cut into segments."
Happy hours: Daily 5–8 pm.
Happy-hour drink specials: $1 off most everything, from whiskey (including fancy-schmancy $11 Hudson Manhattan Rye, $7 Eagle Rare bourbon) to cocktails (the $9 Rootbeer Float has Art in the Age ROOT liqueur, Oola vodka, cream); also $3 wells, $2 off drafts from 5–6 pm (that means $1 Olympia!), and from 6–8 pm, $1 off selected drafts like Lagunitas Pils and Schooner Exact King Street Brown Ale.

Don't Take Advice from Murder City Devils
If the club has provided you with a mic stand with an extremely heavy base, don't swing it around. You might hit your guitar player in the head. And if you hit your guitar player in the head, don't let him ask the Murder City Devils for medical advice—they will only tell him that unless he lets them kick him in the balls, he will have a brain aneurysm and die. This may cause your guitar player to have a very real, very scary panic attack that ends with a very large, very tattooed, very shirtless Gabe Kerbrat running through a "hospital" with your guitar player swaddled in his arms like a baby before the police show up to inform you that you are, in fact, in an elder-care facility scaring the shit out of everyone.
The Catheters play Penumbra Beer & Music Fest this Saturday, March 16, at King's Hall with the Wimps, Prism Tats, Tacocat, Pleasureboaters, and La Luz. Tickets are available here!
For a long time, the suit of armor that greets you upon entering the Canterbury had a sign hung around its neck that said "Seat Thyself." The Canterbury—going on four decades old—is the world's best ye-olde-English-pub-themed dive bar, complete with dark wood beams, a fireplace, pool tables, shuffleboard, cheap liquor, and fried foods (as well as delicious soups made by the amazing Janice of Calamity Jane’s in Georgetown). As Charles Mudede has pointed out, the Canterbury is perfectly situated, almost equidistant from Group Health hospital and the Volunteer Park cemetery; this is how we should spend the long, cold days between infancy and death—sitting by a fire, drinking.
We love the Canterbury.
Capitol Hill Housing owns the building housing the Canterbury and the Fredonia apartments. (In case you're unfamiliar with CHH, here's some information on its mission: "Founded in 1976 as an outgrowth of community action, CHH currently owns and operates 44 buildings, providing safe and affordable housing to low- and moderate-income individuals and families in Capitol Hill and nine other Seattle area neighborhoods... We are committed to creating equitable and sustainable communities in central Seattle... We envision a diverse community that includes housing for individuals and families across a broad range of incomes.")
The Canterbury's lease is up at the end of the year, and CHH is not renewing the lease. CHH does not comment on lease issues with tenants.
Asked why the Canterbury's lease is not being renewed, Canterbury owner Stefanie Roberge admitted that the business has been late with its rent for the last five months and that there is a "cash-flow problem." She said, "They [CHH] wanted me to sign something that they were not responsible for me breaking my arm, and I wouldn’t say that they weren’t responsible for that, so they refused to sign off on the line of credit that we had had previously from our bank. They refused to sign off on it." Asked about the broken arm, Roberge said that "They [CHH] let the sidewalk get to the point where there was a hole about three inches deep. I twisted my ankle and fell and broke my arm and got a concussion," about three years ago. She said that CHH has a $50,000 lien on her home from when she bought the business 13 years ago, and that when she refused to sign something indicating she would not hold CHH responsible for her medical bills from the broken arm, CHH "exacerbated" the business' cash-flow problem by "not allowing us to get that line of credit again." (UPDATE: CHH has no comment.)
Roberge said she was about to write a check for this month's rent today. "It’s just so convoluted," she said. "What I really want to do is retire at the end of the year and sell the business to somebody—I want to sell the Canterbury to somebody else who wants to open a restaurant. But they [CHH] won’t let me do that." Why? "Because they hate us."
While CHH will not comment on pending lease issues with tenants, Capitol Hill Housing Foundation executive director Michael Seiwerath will say that despite rumors to the contrary, CHH is not moving its offices into the Canterbury space—CHH's offices will be relocating into the new 12th Avenue Arts building upon its completion.
Regarding the Canterbury space, Seiwerath also said, "There's a possibility that it will remain a restaurant or bar space." The process for finding a replacement tenant will unfold later this year.
You can share your feelings on the topic at tonight's Capitol Hill Housing monthly board meeting at 6:00 p.m. at Seattle University, in room 500E on the fifth floor in Casey Commons. Public comment (on any topic) is limited to 6:05 to 6:20; the rest of the meeting (except one discussion of the price of a property) is open to the public, but the Canterbury/Fredonia lease situation is not on the agenda. A website apparently organized by Canterbury fans, Save Our Canterbury, is asking people to call CHH and lobby to have the lease renewed, but it appears that ship has fully sailed. CHH indicated that there will be future forums for community discussion on the issue—we'll keep you posted. UPDATE: I may have inadvertently mischaracterized CHH's stance here; Seiwerath says, "It was not my intent to indicate that there will be future forum for community discussion. We are not planning any."
Convoluted, indeed. And too bad all around.
According to Capitol Hill Seattle, Chuck’s Hop Shop just signed a 10-year lease to open a beer shop/neighborhood hangout at 20th and Union in the old Copymaster building.

Chuck Shin already runs Chuck’s 85th Street Market, which carries tons of beer on tap and in bottles, and fills growlers to go. He says, "We’re going to be open to dogs and families – that’s our thing.”
“We’ll have space for rotating food trucks every day. We’re also hoping to build a bit of an outdoor seating area,” Shin said. As for its offerings, Shin has a similar plan for the store on E Union. “We’ll have ice cream for kids and we’re planning fifty taps.” Chuck’s will also continue to provide a similar schedule of events at the new shop: Tastings, trivia nights, and, hopefully, a weekly Euchre night…
The plan continues to be an unassuming, laid-back locale that is in no way focused on décor or pretentiousness, but rather on quality beer and a quality hang-out for families and neighbors. “We’re going for homey and comfortable,” he said.
Sounds great. He hopes to open in May.
Yes, it's time for the ten billionth Academy Awards, with your host The-Family Guy-Guy, a tribute to James Bond, and a whole bunch of awkward speeches by very pretty people in formalwear. Sloggers David Schmader, Christopher Frizzelle, Megan Seling, Dominic Holden, Goldy, and myself will be live-tweeting the Oscars as they happen. Dan Savage is currently either in Los Angeles or on a plane and will be trying to avoid anything Oscar-related, so he'll be in the Twitter-box below, too, because why not?
Tweets from @strangerslog/slog-live-the-musical-2
If you tweet, tweet at us! If you do not tweet, please use the comments! (Stranger staffers will also be leaving all the thoughts that don't fit in 140 characters or less down there, too.) It is all so exciting we can hardly stand it!
It's things like this that make me proud to be of Irish descent. I think. The lede:
An Irish publican has been prosecuted after police found dozens of "nuns" drinking illegally, several hours past closing time on his premises.
Christy Walsh, who runs the bar in Listowel, County Kerry, has been fined a total of 700 euros (£605) after his pub was raided twice in one night.
He had helped to organise a charity event in the town last July, in which hundreds of people dressed up as nuns.
Begorra.

I'm not saying it's easy to acquire anti-tank weapons, but, you know, I now have one, so how hard could it be?

What else: One wall has plants growing fluffily out from it, giving the room a weighted and prehistoric grandeur. Stacked together, the leaves resemble a breathing green passageway that's too dense to peer through, probably a porthole to some distant world—maybe one that's shimmering and dreamy, with mermen and rose-colored skies. (Though it might as easily lead to an unfriendly terrain, all barren and inescapable, so I just couldn't bring myself to walk through it.)
Happy hours: Daily 5–6:30 pm and 10 pm–close.