Miranda and I went on a trip. We decided to do some sightseeing so we packed our purses and headed to the far off exotic land of Fremont.

This was wildly adventurous as neither of us travel out of West Seattle very often (unless it is for Costco.) Fremont was a foreign country. The freeway was the autobahn compared to California Avenue and it took us awhile to find a place to park, (and I did get a little cranky) but we made it.

Once parked we wandered the charming streets to find clever little boutiques filled with vintage clothes, pop art, contemporary fashion, pet toys, earth friendly items, and the people were friendly too. Miranda poked into books stores and looked at purses as I charted the course. We eventually wound our way to the 35th Street Bistro. I'd looked it up on the Internet before our departure. The Internet reviews were stellar. The reviews were right, it did not disappoint.

First, I have to mention the lighting. Upon entering I thought, "Oh my we have entered the world of perfectly skinned humans." Everyone looked beautiful, skin impeccable and unblemished. The gush of incomparable beauty almost intimidated me until I realized that is was the softly diffused light and the putty colored walls. We all looked beautiful. How fun.

We were seated right away at an intimate table and offered our menus and a bottle of water. From the gourmet yet rustic menu we immediately ordered the bistro frites. Arriving in moments came a piping hot cone full of skinny fries tossed with salt and pepper, chives, parmesan cheese, and served with a little dish of cr