014 Keep the bastards out!
Said Emmett Watson about migrating Californians.
1851 - 1907. After Seattle was founded, but before Pike Place Market.
Salty. Briny. Cold. Slippery. Fresh. At the bottom of a set of stairs descending from Post Alley sits Emmett Watson’s Oyster Bar, purveyors of the ocean. It’s at the north end of a deep courtyard behind the first Starbucks, sprinkled with umbrellas and tables under blue and white checkered cloths. Like many other places in Pike Place Market, if you squint your eyes and tune out the American English, you can almost trick yourself into thinking you’re in Europe.
I’ve lived in Seattle for over 20 years and never knew about Emmett Watson’s until I started researching oysters for this newsletter. It was the first oyster bar in Seattle, founded in 1979 by Emmett and his friend, Sam Bryant.1 It is unassuming and authentic, its decor an homage to the city’s maritime and fishing legacies. I went on a crisp day in October, locking my bike outside the scone shop on First Avenue and walking down to Emmett’s. I had a half dozen oysters on the half shell with a faux IPA for lunch. Damn, was it good.
The wikipedia article on Emmett will tell you everything you need to know. He was a Seattle native if there ever was one, a baseball player for the University of Washington, then later a sportswriter and columnist for the Seattle Times and P-I.2 He was a rabble rouser and an urban commentator, eulogizing the city he loved, sticking up for it with his words:
In the 1960s, when a P-I editor posted a notice forbidding facial hair, Mr. Watson began growing a beard in support of younger colleagues. It wasn't long before the notice came down, Brack wrote.
Mr. Watson treasured Seattle to the point of wanting to protect it, inventing the mythical organization "Lesser Seattle" with a goal of allowing outsiders to visit but not stay. The concept struck a chord with locals who watched equity-rich Californians bid up housing prices here.
"I never wanted to set the city on fire, but I did have some fun," the gravelly voiced Mr. Watson said in May 1997.3
And he loved oysters so much that he opened an oyster bar4. Because…who doesn’t?
Reading about Emmett made me think about local characters and my dad. He was a local character in Aspen, Colorado in the 1960s and 70s who also lamented the growth and glitzing of the town he loved. A mountain renaissance man, he was at various times a jailer, a county commissioner, a waiter, a ski instructor, a train enthusiast, a radio show host, a motorcycle rider, and a dog lover who hung out with Hunter S. Thompson5. I don’t know what he thought about oysters being so far inland, but given his eclectic mix of occupations living in a two-mile high town on the edge of counterculture6, my guess is he liked them. Oysters are a common food, but they’re an adventurous food. Eating them is risky business.7 It takes gumption, grit, and courage to eat an oyster. Every time one slips past your tongue, you’re taking your life into your hands.
But since we all have to die anyway, what better way to go? Killed by a delicious lover from the depths of a beautiful sea.
Next Up
Okay, it’s time to turn to the next phase, 1907-1921, and our culinary gem of Seattle, Pike Place Market. Our first famous landmark, the soul of Seattle, the heart of the Emerald City. There’s been so much written about it before, so I’ll focus on writing about it through my own lens and what this place means to me. Maybe, must maybe, I’ll find someone to interview.
Food is about dialogue. What do you want to know about Pike Place Market? What memories do you have to share?
Hunter S. Thompson wrote about my dad in The Great Shark Hunt.
Interview Kate Krafft. She has been on the board of the Pike Place Historical Commission for decades and decades. Michael Herschensohn
Thank you Callie! I'm so glad to know about Emmett Watson's Oyster Bar!! Next time I'm in Seattle . . . !
I bet I would have liked your Dad - and Hunter!