BEST CHOLESTEROL FIXWhat’s the most fat-filled, calorie-laden, artery-busting food in the world? Tempura ice cream with chocolate sauce? Deep-fried cheese sticks? A 24-ounce porterhouse topped with butter? A strong contender must be the olive poppers at Palace Kitchen (2030 Fifth, 448-2001). Not only are they breaded before the luscious, earthy nuggets get their hot-oil bath, they’re also stuffed with cheese. And they’re served on a pool of thick, creamy sauce. Of course, like most things unhealthy, they’re wickedly delicious. Each bite results in the explosion of intense flavor that only the combination of salt, fat, and cheese can provide. You won’t be able to stop at one, but luckily, at least for your love handles, each portion offers only six of these balls of sin, and we have it on good authority that olives are filled with that “good” cholesterol.BEST PLACE TO OVEREAT”Tapas.” It sounds like a manageable concept, doesn’t it? A bite of this, a nibble of that, washed down with a glass or two of dry sherry. And so it may be at many establishments boasting such a menu. But beware should you incautiously approach the offerings at Harvest Vine (2701 E. Madison, 320-9771). It’s all so unpretentious and straightforward, arriving item by item before you: a few grilled fresh anchovies, chunks of spicy sausage chopped on the bias into chunks, some dainty slabs of veal tongue in a pungent tomato sauce. . . . Before you know it, you’re working on a major case of heartburn, and the tab is nearing the three-figure mark. Maybe the management’s resolute refusal to accept reservations is, in reality, a kind of tough love: If Harvest Vine were too easy to get into, it might be hazardous to its greatest fans’ health—and their pocketbooks.BEST PLACE TO GORGE ON JEWISH FOODWhen they say “piled high” at Gilbert’s on Main (10024 Main, Bellevue, 425-455-5650), they mean it. Sandwiches at this sunny cafe overflow with pastrami, corned beef, salami, and other goodies. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make room for the enormous bowls of matzo ball soup served here. Proprietor Steven Gilbert prides himself on the broth, simmered with parsnips and a ton of garlic. The light, tasty, baseball-sized matzo balls are equally worthy of praise. Even though they’re made from a mix, you’ll be wondering what the secret is. Can you eat any more? Hey, how long have you suffered though this town’s former shocking lack of decent Jewish food? Try the cheesecake: Gilbert, who buys it from a small producer, swears it’s the best he’s ever tasted.BEST WAY TO GET MORE PIZZA THAN YOUR CO-WORKERSPretending she’s not the chintziest manager in the company, your boss declares once a year that she’s buying pizza for all her employees. But in the past, she’s only ordered three—a pepperoni, a vegetarian, and a sausage—for 30 people! How to get the most out of your manager’s annual act of generosity? Insist she order Zeek’s “Thai One On” (419 Denny Way, 448-6775; 6000 Phinney N., 789-0089). Possibly the zaniest—and definitely the tastiest—type of pizza in town, Thai One On is the top treat for you lowly employees who need at least three slices as consolation for your pathetic paychecks. With its sweet and slightly spicy phad Thai sauce, chunks of chicken, mat of mozzarella, and sprinklings of bean sprouts, carrots, and cilantro, Thai One On contains all the fixings that’ll fend off the fingers of your better-paid peers: Vera the vegan, Manny of the sensitive stomach, xenophobic Phil, and, most importantly, that suddenly disgruntled manager who, once the pizza arrives, reminds you she’s allergic to cilantro. You’re so sorry, you explain, reaching for your fourth piece of Thai pie, you’ll know better next year.BEST PLACE TO PACK ON THE POUNDS AT A MOMENT’S NOTICEWe occasionally have visions of a perfect world in which physically fit people walk around with hangdog expressions, moaning desperate things like, “God, I simply must gain a few inches before Saturday or that sweatshirt will just hang on me.” In such a paradise, Daily Dozen Doughnut Company in Pike Place Market (93 Pike Place, 467-7769) would be trumpeted as the essential snack of the Emerald City. The hot, freshly made little gems are so deceptively nonthreatening and bite-sized that you tend to eat them like popcorn, which, in the ugly real world, can be the cause of a disturbing revelation when you look down into your paper bag and realize you’ve mowed your way through 12 doughnuts without so much as a burp. Powdered, chocolate-iced, sprinkled, or—our favorite—plain and golden, the goodies are a steal at a couple of bucks per dozen. But don’t say we didn’t warn you.BEST WAY TO REMOVE YOUR LIPSMany restaurants that offer spicy food temper the heat because they know the jackass who orders it “as spicy as you can make it” will soon be whimpering and sending his plate back to the kitchen. It’s because of jerks like these that those of us who truly sport an iron throat are constantly disappointed with the weak “five-star spicy” doled out to us. We’ve been reduced to begging and pleading with the wait staff to burn us; some of us even get downright insulting. The remedy? Enter the Wing Dome (4545 University Way N.E., 632-1033; 7818 Greenwood N., 706-4036), where pain is always on tap. The six-alarm wings are things of tortuous beauty, and you don’t need to insult the waitress with lines like “If you stupid idiots don’t make it right, I’m sending it back” to get the proper culinary abuse. Bring a beach towel for your forehead—you’ll be sweating.BEST MIDNIGHT BINGEThe place to go for cocktails on a late summer evening also serves goat cheese fondue with apples and rustic bread. The light here, like the food, is golden and spreads warmly from the ovens at the back. Arrive around midnight to give yourself enough time; Palace Kitchen (2030 Fifth, 448-2001) serves till 1 a.m. The menu changes daily, much to the consternation of habit-forming regulars. And don’t even think about getting hooked on the asparagus: It needs time to grow. It’s only a vegetable. When they can get it, they serve it, and when it’s served, it arrives at your table on a simple square platter: a pile of ripe, rotund, resplendent stalks—an unnatural variety. Seconds earlier, they danced across a smoking grill; then they were doused in a smooth, oaky apple-bacon sauce. Sure, they’re licked with carcinogens, so maybe they cause cancer: In that way, they’re bad for you; in every other way they’re very, very good.BEST SUMMER FEEDING FRENZYStrolling in the U District’s Farmers Market (N.E. 50th and University Way N.E.; Sat., 9 a.m.-2 p.m. through Nov. 3) is one of the season’s great joys. This is how to buy real food. Everything comes right from the people who grow it: succulent melons, juicy peaches, fat eggplants, redolent basil, etc. And the farmers are as varied as their produce—the hippie-commune types rub up against the conservative Christian families. Some farmers share conspiracy theories, others proffer crisp apple slices. Recent immigrants always figure largely among the shoppers, making the aural landscape a polyglot’s pleasure. Performances by folk, jazz, and classical musicians add further delights for the senses. Freshly baked bread and pastries from local companies reach out and tempt you. See old friends, or make new ones. Don’t miss out this year, especially since construction on 50th Street has organizers worried about attendance.BEST MESSY SANDWICHESWho cares if that Jared guy lost 800 pounds? Point is, he ate at Subway every day, and that’s just wrong. Although it’s been firmly established that Seattle isn’t much of a sandwich town, a few notable exceptions should keep you away from the chain fare. Foremost among them is Ballard Avenue’s Other Coast Caf鼯B> (5315 Ballard N.W., 789-0936). It’s always a good sign when a sandwich shop uses those high quality Boar’s Head meats, but when they’re hand-sliced per order and piled on in generous heaps it’s a real treat. The Other Coasters aren’t stingy with much of anything really, making it absolutely inevitable that you’ll end up with some topping on your lap or sauce smeared on your shirt. The majestic Reuben, with its slathered Russian dressing, is a likely stain candidate, but the bold flavor more than excuses its untidiness. You probably won’t lose weight eating at the Other Coast, but you’ll still feel better about yourself!BEST SPOT TO GET YOUR KIDS HIGH ON JUNK FOODIn an oasis of kitsch and useless public gathering space, one invaluable local institution has endured decades of children’s birthday parties and countless resulting upset tummies. Boasting a cornucopia of preservative- and sweetener-packed goodies fresh off the truck from a central distribution warehouse in Des Moines, Iowa, the Seattle Center House Food Court (305 Harrison, 684-7200) features every parentally forbidden no-no imaginable—in other words, just what kids most want to eat. So let them. Give each tyke a twenty and watch them go wild on corn dogs, ice cream, grease-saturated pizza, sugary facefuls of cotton candy, and endless jumbo containers of soda. So what if the sugar makes them go berserk with hyperactivity, unable to sleep for a week and capable of shattering plate glass with their shrieking? Sometimes a parent’s gotta kick back in the beer garden to enjoy the mayhem their progeny are causing. Seconds, anyone?BEST ICE CREAM-PRODUCING BOVINEAs the summer begins to warm up, so does the engine of the ice-cream truck tooling through your neighborhood, haunting your ears and creating some serious cravings. Instead of being a monkey chasing a weasel, hoofing it after that old mail truck through the streets so you can deal with a haughty ice-cream man who never had what you wanted in the first place, mosey on over to Cow’s Meow (1835 Queen Anne N., 285-3532). Treat yourself to some real ice-creamy goodness that’ll sooth your gluttony, sugar-craving, dairy-drooling taste buds. And if you’re wondering what a cow’s meow is, it’s what you really want. Trust us.BEST GIANT MOUND OF SINOK, it’s gag-inducing when a mere dessert is described as sinful—we can all do way better than that. However, it is no exaggeration to call the strawberry shortcake at the Kingfish Caf鼯B> (602 19th E., 320-8757) some kind of serious transgression. Its size, its beauty, the ineffable liquory taste of its tremendous bosomy snowdrifts of whipped cream—this can only be the work of Satan. Did you catch that about its size? If a dessert can be too big, this is it; the waitstaff can barely carry it. It’s so big, it’s wrong. Such sweet largesse is badder than god, people, and it’s only available, thankfully, when strawberries are in season.BEST HANGOVER BREAKFAST JOINTYou already damaged your liver irreparably with those seven margaritas last night, so why not take on your cholesterol and your waistline while you’re at it? Few folks emerge from a drinking binge craving wheat germ, and Glo’s (1621 E. Olive Way, 324-2577) understands this better than anyone. In their tiny Capitol Hill space, this surprisingly ungreasy greasy spoon serves up some of the most delectable hangover food in the city, from the perfectly executed eggs-hash-browns-and-bacon plate to a scrumptious frittata, mouth-watering waffles, and omelets filled to bursting with fresh ingredients. One word of warning: Glo’s is hardly a secret, so be prepared to wait it out. And maybe take some Advil before you face the sunshine.BEST OCEANIC GREASEBOMBEveryone has their own idea about where to get the best fish and chips in Seattle, but they’re all wrong. The best fish and chips in Seattle are at Jack’s Fish Spot (1514 Pike Place 467-0514). Half food stand, half seafood market, the catch of the day is taken directly off the ice and delivered into your stomach with only a mere stop at a deep fryer in between. Fish and chips are not meant to be eaten off plates at a nice table with a waiter hovering overhead. Fish and chips are meant to be sucked out of cheap paper baskets, standing at a lunch counter littered with little packs of ketchup, tartar sauce, and vinegar—all of which should be open prior to grabbing your first bite, because after touching anything in that basket, your fingers will be far too greasy for anything other than shoveling hot fried fish into your face.BEST HOT CHOCOLATE DECADENCEThey say that chocolate contains chemicals that mock the juice the brain releases when that brain is in love. If that’s the case, the hot chocolate at Bauhaus Books and Coffee (301 E. Pine, 625-1600) is like taking your skull to a 10-way orgy. You’d swear they had a candy chop shop in the back, shady characters melting stolen chocolate bars down into the little cups of love, but then again, anything made with steamed whole milk can’t be that illegal. To further screw with your insulin levels, get your hot chocolate topped with a thick layer of whipped cream and a skinny little chocolate bar on top. Step past the mochas, leap over the lattes, duck those low-flying Americanos, this stuff will have you wired all night, singing love songs to the lovely, lovely chemicals in your brain.BEST MEXICAN TONGUEThe Pacific Northwest ain’t exactly known for its wonderful Mexican food, and it’s not a simple task to find authentic south-of-the-border cuisine around here. This can make life downright miserable for anyone without a Mexican grandmother to fill in the gap, but Tacos Guaymas (213 Broadway E., 860-7345; 1415 Broadway, 860-3871) is one of the few in-city locations that certainly helps those with a hankering for the real thing. Case in point: the lengua (tongue) tacos—they’re rich, tender, simple, and spectacular. Real Mexican food is comprised of meats that most unfamiliar diners would prefer be left on the slaughterhouse floor—what a shame! Mexicans know better, and real restaurants will have all sorts of gross things on the menu that, if bravely ordered and eaten, will forever zap your reliance on those cheese-drowned ground beef enchiladas that the other guys will give you. After Tacos Guaymas slips you the tongue, you’ll never kiss the same again.BEST WEIRD MEAT BY THE POUNDThe carnal satisfaction derived from devouring another creature’s flesh is hard to beat, really (especially when matched with a nice carrot-rosemary sauce). It’s magic: Man atop the food chain, triumphant, unapologetic—meaty. Thanks for converting all that soggy grass into energy for us, you losers—you’re gonna look mighty pretty in patty form. And somehow, the fresher, the redder, the weirder the meat, the better. And if you want weird, of course, you want exotic: Exotic Meats (17532 Aurora N., 546-4922). They stock caribou, goat, reindeer, boar, and all sorts of more pedestrian hoofed snacks. But if you want to assert your cerebral dominance with a little more tooth and claw, you’ve got to crawl onto the darker, lower decks of the Ark: Exotic Meats butchers turtle, rattlesnake, crawfish, berry fox (which you might know as “possum”), alligator, and cobra. They’ve even got samplers like the “Grand Reptile Feast” and “Four Birds in a Bush Sampler.” And that perfect sauce? Just browse the recipes, like the one for roasted hazelnut-marinated ostrich with garlic chive sauce. (Vermouth and ostrich: It seems so obvious now.)BEST FANTASIA ON A COFFEE THEMESometimes what you need from your cup of joe is not a jump start at all but a smooth, mellow equalizer. The White Velvet at Vivace Espresso (321 Broadway; 901 E. Denny, 860-5869) is like liquid heaven. So smooth and white chocolate-rich, this twist on the wimpier mocha drinks that the other folks mass produce knocks you into blissful submission. And while we’re not sure that the Velvet should be your drink of choice apr賠shower or pre-morning meeting—it’s just too sinful, delicious, and lullingly lovely to be a morning drink—we think it’s about time to reinstate the afternoon coffee break and name the White Velvet its patron saint. Coffee: It’s not just for breakfast anymore.BEST PLACE TO GNAW THE OTHER WHITE MEATBow down to Kau Kau (656 S. King, 682-4006). Bow! The old guy who’s wielding the foot-long butcher knife behind the counter here doesn’t want to hear your whiny white-person bullshit. If you’re at all unsure about the whole Chinese BBQ pork thing (“Oh, it’s just too dry and weird and red”), or if you can’t handle all the dripping, glistening animal corpses hanging from the hooks in the front window, then save yourself some trouble and head for Uwajimaya. But if you want the real deal—if you want to wantonly consume heaps of the juiciest Chinese BBQ pork in the city—then proudly step in line behind all the Shao-Lin masters from the kung fu school upstairs. Order your sweet, succulent, smoky pig meat in quantity ($6.29 a pound), or get it chopped up before your eyes and ladled out with rice ($4.50). Ask for “the juice.” Ask!BEST CHEAP SUGAR FREAK-OUTThe problem with the sugar freak-out is, of course, that you can’t quite get enough. So candy in bulk becomes essential, with the attendant freak-outs then coming in waves, colors blurring, followed by abrupt lapses into glossolalia as blood sugar rises to scientifically inexpressible levels. The Swedish fish, the chocolate in chunks, the licorice whips, the sour balls (any flavor you want!), the Techno Bears—yes, that’s their actual name! Bright, marbley, iridescent—you want to sing little techno theme songs as you eat them. And the chewy red Scotty dogs—it’s not that they taste so good, but they’re just so cute! Or grape! Grape crystals, those rock sugar crystals, like you’re carrying a bag of sweet, sugary jewels! And candy Legos—they really stick together, you can build stuff, like ziggurats and those columns with the things on them, what is that, Ionic? Don’t let those bastards at the movies or the stupid Sweet Factory screw you—it’s Larry’s Market (100 Mercer, 213-0778; 10008 Aurora N., 527-5333; other locations), $3.99 a pound, honest to god. And it’s all arranged by color!BEST SECONDS WITHOUT SHAMEEvery first Sunday of the month, the Swedish Club’s Pancake Breakfast (1920 Dexter N., 283-1090) brings Swedes and non-Scandos alike together to sup on cr갥-thin pancakes swimming in strawberries or lingonberries, along with a formidable tuft of whipped cream. Oh, and ham. And coffee. And Dixie cups filled with OJ. Pay your measly $6 (or more, if you’re tempted by the Scandinavian gift shop on either side of the ticket line, filled with edible treats and aprons with various nations’ flags on them), find yourself a seat in the fray of national costumes and hardanger fiddles and folk dancers, and head over to the food line. Like a school cafeteria, you’ll meet young and old folk here, pass sugar and napkins across big round tables, and try to count how many people they can cram in to feed. Nice ladies patiently dole out the goods, asking you how many plate-size pancakes you want (three is the maximum for the first trip up, though) and what topping—and then comes the dollop. Seconds? Totally encouraged. Don’t be shy; it’s not only refreshingly expected, it’s like a d骠 vu of sorts for the hearty breakfast eater. Bring your skinny friends, steal their tickets, have their seconds. You’re welcome—and welcome to the smorgasbord!Choco-LustDESSERTPLACEPRICEPRESENTATIONChocolate Volcano CakeCutter’s Bayhouse (2001 Western, 448-4884)$7.50Plunge through the earthen crust of this flourless cake and caramel lava oozes out. The mountain of magma is topped with a ball of warm ganache, white chocolate snow, and billowing clouds of whipped cream. OK, so it doesn’t actually erupt—that would be something!El DiabloTango (1100 Pike, 583-0382)$7A cosmic creation: a cube-shaped meteorite of mousse falling through a cloud of burnt meringue. Served in pools of tequila caramel and a scattering of chocolate dust, cocoa nibs, and cayenne-crusted almonds. S???s???the work of the devil!Flaming TurtleThe Melting Pot (14 Mercer, 378-1208)$10 small, $20 regularFondue freaks love this steamy stew of chocolate that’s swirled with caramel and chopped pecans, then flamb饤—tableside. Comes with fruit, cake, and marshmallows for dipping. Eating companion not included.Chocolate Grappa BrownieFlying Fish (2234 First, 728-8595)$7.95A chubby, fudgy brownie baked with Italian grappa and stuffed with white chocolate. Comes on a plate drizzled with chocolate, along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a crescent-moon shortbread cookie. It’s all about the brownie.Chocolate Caramel Crunch CakeTGI Friday’s (1001 Fairview N., 621-7290)$4.39Get to this den of debauchery and order this mouthwatering mud slide, complete with layers of luscious chocolate cake, caramel, and chocolate mousse. Toasted almonds, chocolate chips, and bricks of Butterfinger give it crunch. It’s loaded. It’s cheap. Thank god.Hot ChocolateDilettante Chocolates (416 Broadway E., 329-6463)$2.75 regular, $3.75 grandeA cauldron of chocolatey brew: They toss their famous confections—truffles and all—into the pot, along with the traditional flavors and cream. Decadent and frothy. Nirvana in fluid form.