Emory’s

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One of the disadvantages of living in suburbia is the belief in the perpetual myth that there are no good restaurants outside of the urban center.  Sure there are miles and miles of Applebee’s & Olive Gardens and even an occasional mom & pop cafe that has somehow managed to withstand the onslaught of competition from the plethora of Starbucks stores which surround it.  But good food? Inventive food? A place worthy of first dates and silver anniversaries alike? A place like that is rare my friends, whether inside big city limits or out.  Hence one of the many reasons why I love Emory’s; it’s all of those things and more and the best part? It’s right in my backyard.

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Edgar and I went there recently for a rare grown-up date night out and I had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit and enjoy my meal without someone doing gymnastics on my lap or being used as a human napkin.  It felt nice and once I had that prosecco in hand, even nicer.  Edgar ordered some foo-foo concoction covered in toasted coconut and lime wedges and I could tell that the food runner was a bit confused as to which one of us ordered which drink but I shrugged and said “it’s the Latin in him I guess” and the Pina colada was gingerly set down in front of him.  He declared it delicious, and we plowed through battered green beans ordered off the secret bar menu and a fresh & tasty wedge salad.

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By the time out entrees came, we were, in all honesty, stuffed to the gills but we didn’t let that hold us back, though Edgar did eventually take most of his lamb shank home.  I had ordered parmesan crested cod and I was not to be so easily deterred for that dish was the crowning glory in an already delicious meal and besides, who takes home fish? It just never reheats the way other food does and unlike pizza and Chinese food, leftover fish is never half as good as it is fresh.  So yah, I was eating it whether my pants liked it or not.

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Once we rolled ourselves out of there, it was just a leisurely stroll across the parking lot to the car; no meters, no parking garages and no questionable dark alleys to contend with.  We were home in a flash, PJ’s on, Netflix primed and the satisfactory feeling of having done something very adult like.  I guess living in surburbia does have it’s perks.                                                                                                                                                         

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Emory’s

11830 19th Ave SE

Everett, WA 98208

Hours: 2pm-Close Daily

Saturday & Sunday Brunch 10am-2pm

425-337-7772

 

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