At first glance, the kitchen of Trophy Cupcakes and Party could be taken for that of a gourmet restaurant. Pure Madagascar-Bourbon vanilla and Valrhona cocoa from France line the shelves, and local sweet-cream butter, free-range eggs, and fresh fruit fill the fridge. These are the ingredients Jennifer Shea uses to craft her daily rotating cupcake flavors, from chocolate nutella to gluten-free red velvet. With the help of husband Michael Williamson, she distributes her decadent handheld desserts to three Seattle boutiques, which have garnered press attention to rival that of the city's finest eateries. Martha Stewart gushed about Jennifer's innovative and widely varied flavors, and Seattle magazine picked six Trophy creations for its 2008 list of the city's 95 best desserts.
To complement their cupcakes, Trophy Cupcakes stocks a curated selection of party supplies. A cocktail-style party room in Wallingford Center, which can accommodate up to 30 guests, is available to rent for birthday parties, baby showers, and superhero business meetings.
Blending Parisian aesthetics with Seattle’s top-notch coffee and commitment to locally sourced ingredients, Café Cesura is known for its fusion of style and sustainability. Behind the counter, baristas depress plungers on finely ground beans and hot water to create steaming cups of French-press coffee, or let time do the work with cold-press coffee that infuses overnight for sweeter, less acidic batches. However it’s brewed, each cup complements the flavors in the café’s fresh breakfast fare, which includes waffles studded with berries or bacon or hearty breakfast sandwiches layered with cheddar, eggs, and applewood-smoked bacon. Since most of the café’s ingredients come from local farmers and dairies, customers know their food is thoughtfully sourced and contains no unpronounceable ingredients—Yirgacheffe coffee beans excluded.
Started by Hawaii transplants Gertie Han and Karl Krautheim more than 50 years ago, Oh! Chocolate is now run by the couple’s two daughters, who uphold Gertie and Karl’s reputation for quality as they handcraft French–style chocolate morsels. USA Today named the neighborhood establishment one of Seattle's foremost chocolatiers for its “old-fashioned… melt-in-your-mouth” creations, which include raspberry, cabernet, and mango-habanero truffles, as well as caramels with a sprinkle of sea salt harvested from one of the peninsula's naturally occurring saltshakers. Oh! Chocolate’s warm and inviting Madison Park location spreads cocoa-themed knowledge with a slate of classes in which small groups of students glean valuable information such as tempering methods and ideal placement atop a just-fluffed pillow.
Shnoo Yogurt isn't your run-of-the-mill frozen yogurt stand. Instead of serving pre-made treats churned out in a factory, the staff makes non-fat, gluten-free yogurt in small batches, using minimal sugar and milk from a local dairy––a practice that helps preserve all the nutrients and live cultures that make frozen yogurt healthy. But Shnoo Yogurt's Full Tilt brand ice cream is also good for you; made from all-natural, local ingredients, it's available in 28 flavors, including vegan-friendly varieties. And the health-conscious options don't stop there. One you've chosen your favorite frozen yogurt or ice cream, a full bar of at least 30 nutritious toppings awaits to be mixed in, including fresh blueberries, coconut, granola, honey, and even marshmallows, which count as a vegetable if eaten on Thanksgiving.
The sunset-orange hues of a neon sign reflect off mirrored walls, the cursive letters spelling out “Crossroads Cafe.” Husband and wife Dana and Cindy Nielson stand beneath, presiding over the restaurant they opened more than two decades ago.
In the rippling-hot air rising from a griddle, cooks grill bacon to top hot dogs and flip quarter-pound beef patties before coating them with housemade thousand-island dressing. Blenders full of malt milk shakes and smoothies purr. Expanses of black-and-white-checkered counters and glittering red chairs give one the pleasant feeling of stepping back into the ‘50s without ever having to see John Wayne cry.