One of the things I was looking forward to finding the time to do post-reception was finally getting to eat at Delancey. Delancey, if you don’t know, is the restaurant opened by Brandon (whom you might know as the husband of Molly), and Molly (she who writes Orangette and the author of A Homemade Life). I’ve read updates with anticipation as the restaurant come together, all the delays and triumphs, on Molly’s site and on the Delancey Twitter stream, so the expectation was immense, like going to a rock concert you bought tickets for back in March.
We went under the worst possible conditions. I was hungry verging on angry (we call this hangry), and Scott was tired from getting stuck late at work on a Friday. It was getting dark earlier than we were used to and we had settled into what we shorthand as A Bad Date, an evening where we just accept that the mood will be cranky as neither of us has the energy to cheer the other up but we need to eat and since we are out of the house we might as well have dinner. Delancey, however, is magic and banished all traces A Bad Date. We left elated.
We were lucky enough to get seats at the bar where you can observe the pizza making in action and saw how much care they put into everything. The food was amazing and they truly love everything they offer. The service was warm and caring and they took fantastic care of us.
We got the burrata (you need to eat this, Molly talks about it here) and the very last of the tomato and corn salad before the season ends. I do wish we’d also had room for the vegetable salad made from things they had pickled themselves. We got two pizzas (each pizza could feed two, but we don’t shy away from leftovers) and the proscuitto was outstandingly yummy. The house made fennel sausage, however, was the one Scott was still talking about 24 hours later. (Our plan is to find a way to bribe them to have an available supply of fennel sausage somehow appear in our fridge on a weekly basis.) It was too dark to get a picture of the plum crumble we shared for dessert, but let’s just take a moment to remember how good it was. Molly is sweet enough to offer up the recipe.
Scott and I live in an area of Seattle sometimes called Garlic Gulch due to the number of Italian immigrants that settled here. It’s easier for us to get wood fired pizza than any other food, and we’ve had a lot of it. I say without hesitation that the pizza at Delancey is the best I’ve eaten.
I was pleased (and not at all surprised) to find a table full of Tea and Cookies, Simply Recipes, Not Without Salt, Seattle Bon Vivant and Savory Sweet Life relaxing after attending the Food Snap conference that day. It was the coolest to run into you all!
The other thing I took note of was the din of the happy diners. Delancey is small but the good mood was amazing. It was clear that everything was just right with the world for everybody there. Brandon and Molly have put a tremendous amount of love into Delancey and it translates very clearly, kudos!