August 22, 2006
The Pitted Olive
I’ll spare you all the ordinary, predictable mumbo-jumbo of describing the food at The Pitted Olive. It was excellent all the way around. Lots of vegetarian options, several daily specials and of one appetizer, three entrees and three desserts, all were outstanding. Wine, ditto.
Visit their website to learn more about their gourmet take-out, wine room, catering, regular menu features and the history behind the place. They illustrate all those features much better than I could.
What isn’t mentioned and probably can’t be accurately conveyed is the amazing atmosphere created at The Pitted Olive. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so welcome and appreciated in a restaurant. It was like having dinner at a friend’s house-a friend who also happens to be a wonderful host and a creative, quality chef. A friend who doesn't continually insist that you have a good time, or quiz incessantly, "Are you having a good time?" Some people just make it happen as was the case at this unassuming, shopping strip restaurant.
How many restaurants will allow patrons, on a moderately busy night, as much time needed to peruse me the menu without subtle (or not) nudges? Questions weren't answered in thinly veiled irritation but with seeming appreciation for the opportunity to converse with the customer a little bit. When the wine glasses were empty, a bottle magically appeared and was poured gracefully but without fanfare. It was like our server was smiling and silently saying, "Here, I want you to enjoy this."
The long tables were shared by strangers and nobody seemed uncomfortable at all with the arrangement. In fact, there was significant conversation and movement between the tables with folks talking about their food, their travels and why Joe Bonwich hasn't made the scene, yet. One brave emissary from a group of British gents grabbed a chair and chatted up the female occupants of a neighboring surface about his plans to buy a Norton motorbike in Oregon, while a May-December couple, dressed for a more formal environment, whispered to each other in the corner.
There was no rushing but it wasn't slow. The staff was attentive without hovering. Nobody in the place seemed harried or stressed. Lights were low but not dark.
How, I ask you, does a stop for a light bite turn into a three hour dinner? Well, pretty easily at The Pitted Olive.