When Etta and I touched down in Seattle I was wicked jet-lagged: I thought Chicago was in the middle of the country, therefore the flight West would be the same as the flight home East. Turns out the flight to Seattle was like 5 hours from Chicago and even though I was only awake to overhear in a half-dream a few seconds of stewardess conversation about a passenger in medical emergency it was rough on my constitution.
The only cure for that kind of thing is oysters. Shuckers had three different kinds of Washington State oysters on special for happy hour. The interior of the restaurant is dark wood and clubby: it reminded me of a through-the-looking-glass version of a Boston hotel bar. The service was top notch, professional, informative, a great story about Willapa Bay oysters. My favorite were the Amai oysters in their yellow shells.
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