On June 29, the long-awaited South Park Bridge finally opened, spanning the Macklemore-approved Duwamish Waterway and connecting the southern boundary of Georgetown to the rarely explored South Park. This is good for two reasons. One, it eases the commuting woes of a neighborhood which has been forced to tangle with a rabbit hole of highway detours, where it seems that with every turn you wind up at the dump. And two, because it allows much easier access to some fantastic places to eat.

For those who love Mexican food, strolling down South Park’s 14th Avenue (where the bridge connects) is like being the world’s greatest neon fan walking down the Vegas strip. Take your pick between well-established sit-downs like Muy Macho (my favorite), Jalisco, and Juan Colorado and taco-truck-style places like the newly opened Mi Fondita del Itsmo, where a plate of tacos al pastor is perfectly matched with a fresh jamaica (pronounced hah-MY-kah, a hibiscus juice).

But the best Mexican culinary delights 
are found at Pasteleria y Panaderia La Ideal, just a few blocks south on 14th. Fresh baked goods pour out of ovens all day. My bread (bolilos I would later use to make tortas), bought at 7 p.m., was almost too hot to hold. For a sweet treat, grab a concha “shell,” a house specialty that tastes like a Hawaiian sweet roll with a subtle sugar topping. It’s so soft you’ll wonder if you’ve even bitten into it. Added bonus: Nearly nothing here costs over a dollar. I paid for most things with pocket change like it was 1953 and I was at a soda fountain with all my keen pals.

But South Park isn’t just burritos and hot sauce. Well-established neighborhood favorite Napoli Pizzeria has been owned and operated by the same family at the same location since 1981. I was delighted to find that was also the last year they considered the decor: paper plates, pitchers of beer, metal chairs, and fluorescent-lit laminate tables. Memories of childhood soccer pizza parties came flooding back as I stepped in and looked up at the quintessential plastic menu board, spelling out the simple offerings in tiny black letters. Here you’ll find all the classics: hoagies, spaghetti, cannelloni, and pizza. Don’t expect gluten-free crust or basil leaves as topping options either, only the usual: extra cheese, anchovies, and Canadian bacon to name a few.

In the parking lot adjacent to Napoli is one of South Park’s newest additions, Via Vadi Caffe, a neighborhood coffee shop that serves exactly what you’d expect—lattes, espressos, and fresh-baked pastries—but better than you expected.

Finally we come to the real reason I love South Park: Loretta’s Northwesterner. I happened upon it by chance on one of my monthly attempts to find the SoDo transfer station, and was convinced I had stumbled across the city’s greatest, oldest, most unknown bar. Finding out that it was both newish and fairly well-known dampened my excitement only marginally.

Formerly a pub called Kelly’s, Loretta’s was bought and updated by the owner of Georgetown’s 9lb Hammer, but you’d be hard-pressed to figure out it hadn’t been Loretta’s for decades. Dim lighting, stiff drinks, tavern steaks and burgers on the menu, Mariners on the TV—this is the sort of place you come every day after welding skyscrapers or driving tugboats up mountains. But the best part is the latest addition and most recognizable difference between Kelly’s and Loretta’s: a back patio bar, eclectically decorated, whose centerpiece is an old Airstream trailer. If tucking into a rib-eye washed down with a tall glass of whiskey in the back of an Airstream is the sort of experience Seattle bars are headed toward, I think we’re all going to be OK.

For now, South Park is a slice of nostalgia with a bit of flair here and there. If you’re willing to head to Georgetown, take the extra five minutes to jump over the new bridge and see what it’s like before someone takes notice and starts dumping development through their new artery. E

food@seattleweekly.com