South Lake Union has great restaurants. There's Flying Fish and all 19 of Tom Douglas's new establishments. There are a few new sushi places. Hell, even the food bar at Whole Foods is usually full of organic goodness.

But they're all too damn crowded and unique. I know my detractors often think of me as an elitist overrated asshole. And while the overrated and ass-hole parts might be true, I am most certainly not an elitist.

I grew up with redneck redskins and retain, in large part, my own redneck redskin–ness. I subsisted on generic pop culture and even more generic food. So I often prefer the safety and uniformity of REO Speedwagon, the Oak Ridge Boys, sub sandwiches, and hamburgers.

Do you know where I most often eat in this neighborhood? Jimmy John's. They deliver dill pickles (and sandwiches) to my office. In South Lake Union, I love the culinary rebellion of preferring dill pickles. I love Jimmy John's.

And okay, okay, the Seared Diver Sea Scallop Trio at Sea Star is also fucking awesome. But they don't deliver, damn it.