Spring's upon us, along with climatic catastrophe. If the past few years are any indication, this month should bring record temperatures (and little pesky rain). Perhaps money is no object (assuming you've already ponied up for your carbon offset); the offices of your credit card company, in a low-lying coastal region, will likely soon be underwater anyway. Why not relax and enjoy the end of days with a beautiful beverage and a feast fit for royalty en plein air (with fewer pesky bees)? Welcome to Los Angeles Alki*!
A little later in the season, posh outdoor dining options will abound. While Rover's has ceased outside service, you may look forward to the newly outfitted patio at Crush, replete with the scent of lavender and mint and lemon balm; Crémant, too, is working toward opening its petite Eden; likewise, Beà to, new in West Seattle; Westlake's new Marazul promises rum snow cones and mah-jongg and new-Asian-Latino plates on the plaza. If you're comfortable with sidewalk seating's attendant risk of hoi polloi, dine your way up First Avenue at BOKA, Union, and Cascadia.
First and foremost among the prescient restaurants that are ready right now, weather permitting, to seat you outside, cater to your every whim, and accept the contents of your wallet is Waterfront (2801 Alaskan Way, 956-9171). Located on the end of Pier 70, the outdoor seating here puts you as close as you can be to the glinting waters of Puget Sound without being in them (handsome life preservers await that eventuality). Ferries glide and mind-searingly splendid sunsets are available, while on the other side, the freshly acquired view of the Olympic Sculpture Park with passing trains, P-I globe, Space Needle, etc., is deeply terrific (and will make Waterfront newly, massively popularâcall ahead). Servers here silently swoop in, often in squadrons, providing for needs you didn't realize you had; tourists here are smart enough to laugh when they're told Bainbridge Island is Japan ("We have a really good view"). Drink from the award-winning wine list, or have a Calder (Mandarin vodka, scarlet orange puree) or a Love & Loss (chilled shot of fancy vodka & one oyster on the half shell) while gazing upon the red Eagle and rotating ampersand against verdant grass. To eat, the Seafood Indulgence tower ($98!) is most impressive, but having your server recommend what's most wonderful at that precise moment from the raw barâlocal oysters, Dungeness crab, sashimi scallops with black-truffle vinaigretteâis smartest. A cool salad of crabmeat and avocado among crisp, sweet leaves of butter lettuce is also pure genius (especially at $14).
Less majestic but unparalleled in its own way: the canal-side seating at Ponti (3014 Third Ave N, 284-3000). The view here charms instead of sweeps; it's all willows, dappled water, blue Fremont bridge. Racing shells sculling silently by lend a quaint Cambridge element, and right now tulips bloom, jaunty as hell, among the deck's hedges. Should you linger in the gloaming, strings of clear lights illuminate the nearly unbearable pleasantness.
Unfortunately, the seafood menu doesn't quite measure up. Recently, the popular Dungeness crab spring rolls ($12) proved dry and dull, while their curry sauce tasted sour; fish entrées, though offering nice spring elements like fava beans and ravioli filled with delicate local nettles, didn't quite create new levels of happiness vis-à -vis being alive. Add in service oddities (not knowing when to whisk plates away, a wineglass with a lip-endangering chip and a foreign object afloat in it) and $25-an-entrée prices, and, well, you do the math. If money's no object, bully for you, but others might want to factor in a $5 happy-hour menu of relatively excellent snacks, also served on the patio.
In the Food Worthy of Total Rejoicing Out-of-Doors Euro-Style category, two Seattle classicsâone longtime, one newishâkick the behinds of the rest: Campagne (86 Pine St, 728-2800) and Volterra (5411 Ballard Ave NW, 789-5100). Campagne's courtyard is superior, by virtue of being nestled in its own little center-of-the-block cloister amid the tourist terror of the Pike Place Market; the prices are superior as well, hovering around $30 an entrĂ©e. It's worth it in ways very few places in town are, for exorbitantly tasty, gorgeously presented French classics with minutely considered updates and mysteriously delicious sauces. Campagne's coquilles St.-Jacques ($15), a menu standby, epitomizes all that's right with the restaurant and maybe the world: sautĂ©ed scallops atop a sweet-earthy carrot puree with an ethereal (egg white, maybe?) foam and the thinnest possible slices of supercrispy bacon. Listening to the adjectives of the award-winning sommelier here is scary-sexy.
In short, all the raves hold trueâas they also do out at Volterra. There, if you immerse yourself in what's on your plate and the passersby on the Ballard Avenue sidewalk cooperate, the patio, with its planters and overhanging tree, might really feel like Italy. Pastas and meats (priced in the upper teens and early 20s, respectively) are handled with remarkable care. At a warm evening's supper, the daily, seasonal antipasti assortment ($9/person) will cool and amuse and refresh pretty perfectly. A jumbo prawn salad eaten inside last week ($12) provided a brief, massive elevation of spirits with its orange segments, olives, fennel; two of the grilled prawns (perhaps the most expertly cooked seafood encountered at any of the contenders) were intertwined in a lovely, lascivious arrangement. Eaten outside in balmy twilight, it'd be socks-knocking-off good, if you were wearing any. 
* "Alki," for those actually from Los Angeles, means "eventually" in Chinook; the original white settlement hereabouts, out on the point of the same name, was called New York Alki. We've been fucking things up ever since.
