Salumi - A temple of pork in Seattle
Ten months ago, the best man at my wedding gave me a $50 gift certificate to Salumi. It took me ten months, for some reason, to make the trip to downtown Seattle for a taste of Salumi salami.
Actually, I know why it took me so long to make it down there. Salumi has a reputation for limited open hours that rivals some of the shops I’ve been to in Europe. You know the type of shop I mean: They are open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays from 11:45 AM until 2:15 PM unless they sell out of their stock or somebody says the magic word of the day, etc., etc. Salumi is open Tuesday-Friday, 11AM to 4 PM. If you are unemployed, it’s perfect! However, once you make it to Salumi and you see how hard the people are working there, you begin to understand why they are only open 20 hours per week. And once you realize they must spend many more hours preparing their insanely good meats, you’re ready to forgive them.
I went to Salumi on a Friday. I parked a few blocks away in the International District, which is the smart thing to do and I suppose you’d probably need to be a Seattle native to think of parking over there. Before noon on a Friday, that part of town is bustling with winos urinating on inanimate objects. I think it’s the train station that drives these men to drink. It’s hard to say. Anyway, I walked over to Salumi at about 10:55 AM and there was a 10-person line outside the closed door. I’ve heard stories about this place so I decided to show up early, and I’m glad I did.
Once inside, Salumi is quite an interesting place. There is a tiny table at the front of the restaurant next to a large, windowed meat curing room where we can see a bunch of impressive delicacies resting on hooks. The deli counter is next, which is where all the action happens. Behind the attentive deli employees are the chalkboards listing the meats, cheeses, and sandwiches made to order, plus rows of huge flat rolls and baguettes for said sandwiches. The deli counter and the south wall of the building are about 4 feet apart, and that’s where you stand: in a cramped space where 2 people must turn sideways to squeeze past one another. It reminds me of Europe once again in that the people who founded Salumi have made the most of their small shop space.
Only when you try to order food does the entire experience swerve from Europe to New York City. Your best bet is to simply ask for one of the premade salame sitting in the basket on the counter. No written explanations are offered for the variety of salame available, so if you’re wondering what “finocchiona” might be, you better read up before you show up. Meats are offered seasonally in some cases, so if you arrive in July expecting to buy some cotecchino you will be disappointed.
I have some experience with Salumi salame: I have eaten their molé salami before. This salami contains ancho and chipotle chiles, cinnamon, and chocolate, all traditional ingredients in molé sauce. If you manage to try this molé salami and you live somewhere else in the world, you’ll be on a plane to Seattle in no time, standing in line at Salumi and waiting your turn to order. It’s that good. The flavor is somewhere between incredible salami and incredible molé sauce. Wow.
So, I bought a pre-formed molé salami, plus a Salumi house special salami, which is made with garlic and ginger. Nice! I also got a prosciutto, fig paste, and goat cheese sandwich that probably weighed as much as one of Rocky Balboa’s biceps. Insane. I ate 95% of it and then spent several hours not eating. They spread such a thick layer of goat cheese onto the bread, I now require coronary bypass surgery. It was so worth it, though.
If you find yourself in downtown Seattle (near the train station), on a weekday (but not Monday), at about 10:50 AM (any later and you’ll wait a really long time), and you like pork products (or the odd lamb product), you should stop by Salumi. I guarantee you’ll enjoy the experience, particularly if you taste the molé salami. Avoid the lardo, though, unless you know what you’re doing with it.