From this week’s review of the Silver Fork:”If ever I was asked

From this week’s review of the Silver Fork:”If ever I was asked to location scout for Quentin Tarantino, the Silver Fork is where I’d bring him. ‘Dude,’ I’d say. ‘No, dude, for serious…’ And we’d go there for breakfast, early on a Sunday, in the swinging lull between early-early church service and the regular flood of parishioners rolling in all fresh and lively and sweating with the fever of the Word. Men in stack-heeled shoes and wide-shouldered suits, women in hats and pearls, children in their Sunday bests–still ripe with the threat of damnation and tamping it down with pancakes.Quentin and me would sit–prime seats for the big show–in one of the giant corner booths, up against the glass, the windows that wrap completely around two sides of the place. This is where I’d take him because the Silver Fork is right in his Pulp Fiction/Reservoir Dogs sweet spot: a perfectly preserved slab of classic Americana, virtually untouched for generations, un-prettied, never tarted up or draped in unnecessary airs. It is a diner, as purestrain as they come, with short hours, a simple menu and a galley kitchen with a single, long pass window and a wheel on which the dupes are forever spinning. I’d point to the fish-tank windows, the booth-back upholstery–gray over maroon–like the seats in a late-model Chevelle hardtop, less than lovingly tended, and the dark, cold electric sign moldering slowly in the pissy rain.I’d tell Quentin, ‘Brother, this is it,’ because the Silver Fork has an indomitable soul that no set, no matter how lovingly rendered, would ever capture.”You listening, Quentin? I’ve got a lot of reasons why I’d like to buy you breakfast, but now I also have the perfect place for us to go. So, you know. If you ever find yourself in Seattle…This week’s review is basically just a love letter to one of Seattle’s classic addresses–a diner and breakfast bar that’s been up and running for more than two decades, a perfect place for a quiet breakfast on a Tuesday morning or a loud one on Sunday when church is letting out.It’s a great place–sweet and soulful and full of Southern hospitality. And you can read all about it tomorrow when the new issue hits the stands. So until then, remember what Jules says: “Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.”