Landing on the New York Times’s best restaurant list in 2022 was a coup indeed. But Avery Adams’s hyperseasonal maximalist menus didn’t need national accolades to draw crowds. In 2023, this iteration of the restaurant closed and Adams and manager Drew Downing split from the original partners and took Matia to a new location. As before, the menu changes a little bit every day, and diners can go either the a la carte or tasting menu route.

Given that the hotel-adjacent dining room hosts only a single seating of 24 guests, no one can spoil the night's surprise course. Sometimes a hanging decoration turns out to be a dessert, or the server may pour oil from the table's coconut candle directly on a dish. Chef Matt Costello, who also owns the 26-room inn with his wife, thrills at what he calls bells and whistles (or "a little mind fuck") to pepper the three-hour meal. Ingredients served in the glassy pavilion tend toward the familiar, particularly local sea life and Whidbey-grown vegetables; the theatrical flair cements the meal in memory.

A few Canlis expats may have upped the dining scene recently in this vacation haven. But Koko’s has long carried the banner for careful, heartfelt food on this stretch of the coast. Owners and partners Gibran Moreno Ventura and Alexi Torres combine their roots in Veracruz and El Salvador for a menu of fried plantains, poblano-cashew enchiladas, and fresh, straightforward tacos. Ventura used to work at Cactus in Seattle; this menu shows a similar ability to wield American influence (kale salad, a chorizo burger) without dumbing things down. The drinks are similarly great, from margaritas down to the Mexican hot chocolate at brunch. 

The founder of Seabrook plucked two alums of Canlis’s wine program to open a casual restaurant on the coast that translates polished hospitality to an audience heavy on fleece and flip-flops. Thus, a menu both straightforward and prepped to perfection—smash burgers, clam chowder, decadent dips with housemade chips. All seafood, from the fish and chips to the seasonal catch entree, comes from the nearby Quinault Indian Nation. Just as impressive: any dish that involves the crispy, curlicue sidewinder fries. The kids menu is immensely well received, as are the cocktails.

The combined resume of chef Deborah Taylor and her husband Scott Ross reads like a best-of for both New York City and Seattle: Per Se and Canlis for her, Txikito and Tilth for him. Still, what the couple brought to the almost-too-precious Victorian town comes delivered without fuss: local oysters and albacore crudo, then a pleasantly rich housemade mafaldine with duck confit. The dining room recalls Scandinavian minimalism with rotating local art on the walls, a break from the townwide dollhouse-meets-industrial mashup. 

Capitol Hill's loss was the coast's very lucky gain when Heather Earnhardt fully decamped to the historic Tokeland Hotel she purchased in 2018, closing Seattle's mostly breakfast Wandering Goose. The big, buttery biscuits and crispy fried chicken made the trip, but the hotel's expanded restaurant went broader to add fried oysters from nearby Willapa Bay and local fish given a cornmeal treatment with grits. Cozy breakfast might be the highlight, especially with a backdrop of funky farmhouse tchotchkes and antiques to warm this damp stretch of rural coast. Still, dinner maintains Earnhardt's commitment to Southern style; most plates sport an element from east of the Mississippi, from Charleston gold rice grits to pimento cheese.

In the middle of a working oyster farm, a formation of wooden A-frame structures overlook Hood Canal tidal flats. Each one protects a picnic table (and a heater) and delivers a meal you can’t replicate anywhere else in the world. The fifth-generation oyster farm’s longstanding outdoor restaurant recently added those A-frames and a reservation system (the $75 fee includes pre-payment on two dozen oysters). The supporting menu—crab cakes, hearty clam dishes, a sourdough grilled cheese—has more culinary intent. But oysters remain the draw, in packed summer months as well as winter, when the scene is quiet and half-shell season is at its peak. Some tables don’t require reservations, and even on the most crowded days, the Stump Bar dispenses beer, wine, and buckets of you-shuck bivalves. 

The origin story feels cinematic. Music and film producer turned Bellingham booster Skip Williamson tapped a popup in Brooklyn to help him build a business. Thus, three chefs with NYC fine-dining cred moved across the country to run a dining room defined by old brick and rugged fixtures—and a kitchen fueled by fire. Carnal does right by meat; the bone-in short rib has been a fan favorite since the popup days. Other dishes, like wood-fired ruffles of maitake mushrooms achieve carnal satisfaction minus any animal (and with lots of help from elaborate sauces and textural crunchy bits.) The team's newer restaurant, Estelle, and next-door burger shop, Accomplice, have added even more depth to Bellingham's dining scene.

Don't feel bad if you've never heard of this microscopic coal-mining town northwest of Mount Rainier; downtown consists of little more than a classic dive bar, a coffee shop, and a line out the door for increasingly famous pizza. Ian Galbraith can only make so much sourdough pie crust every day. On summer weekends the kitchen sells out within 90 minutes of the door opening. A brussels sprouts and bacon combo hasn't left the menu since the pizzeria's 2016 debut, and a fennel and housemade sausage version pairs well with a crust that's bubbly but somehow not too filling. Galbraith's newest obsession: homemade ice cream using wild blackberries. It's the kind of lineup that has everyone questioning their choices during the interminable wait—an hour, way out here?—but uttering the words "worth it" as they exit.

“We don’t do burritos,” Mercedes Zaragoza tells a takeout customer over the phone one afternoon. “Recipes and flavors come from my home region of Michoacán.” The sign on the door—“We don’t serve chips”—suggests she’s had a few such conversations. Instead, La Tarasca presents an introductory dish of pickled carrots and specializes in Michoacán’s signature: supremely tender carnitas. A quarter chicken comes smothered in the region’s reddish mole, more peppery and peanut-filled than the famous style from Oaxaca. Zaragoza’s mother, Margarita Ayala, opened this dining room place in 1997; the kitchen still makes every tortilla, salsa, and adobada taco platter from scratch. Her extended family carries on both the food and the practice of lavishing warm service (and great salsa) on each table. 

The Northwest could use more restaurants serving the distinct cuisine of the nation of Georgia. So stumbling on a low-lit den of khachapuri, grilled kebab, and khinkali dumplings in a pocket of downtown Vancouver feels like the best kind of dream sequence. It’s hard to bypass those staple dishes, but Dediko’s menu is filled with dips and grilled meat compositions that deserve your attention. This tiny spot also pours wines from Georgia and caps dinner off with a honey cake that will soothe your I-5 rush hour road rage.

Vancouver’s evolving restaurant scene feels like its own thing, not a satellite of Portland just across the river. At its heart is this counter-service taqueria (with a sibling food truck up in Ridgefield) that fills corn tortillas and griddled tortas with big hunks of battered fish, lengua, chicken tinga, and a choriqueso that’s not messing around. Each one feels like its own considered dish, especially with the bar’s smart mezcal cocktails. Blame the crowds for a rather convoluted ordering and seating process…then put it all behind you with a taco.

Sam Shelton is out to rewrite the narrative around the wine country standout launched by, but long split from, Mike Easton and Jim German. Raised in Walla Walla, she returned home in 2016 just a year after the taverna launched, to serve as general manager. Eventually she also became the executive chef. Housemade pastas reign, sandwiched between classic Italian starters and a short list of pizzas and steaks; house specialty pastas that pull from Walla Walla's rich farm country tend to overshadow classic Roman styles. It's almost a pity the individually baked focaccia is so invitingly soft, since it takes room from crusty handmade gnocchi in local asparagus. Leftovers like these are why hotel room fridges were invented. 

Fond memories of Mike Easton’s original restaurant aren’t a requirement to enjoy his current one. But fans of his original Il Corvo might shed a few joyful tears when they sample the same astonishing pasta that once built line-around-the-block loyalties. In 2021, Easton and his wife, Erin, traded Seattle for Waitsburg, 20 miles north of Walla Walla. Here, in the history-laden building that once held Jimgermanbar, they engage with nearby farms to take that pasta to new, deeply seasonal places. Except now, it’s for dinner, with Erin’s cocktails and lots of Italian wine (and polenta for any gluten-averse visitors). Tiny Bacetto seats just 18 people (oh, and no minors), so reservations are essential. The Eastons will open a pizzeria in Walla Walla this summer.

Your typical cucumber salad: Solid, refreshing, not terribly creative. Greg Perrault’s version pairs the crunch of cukes and shaved radish with cubes of perfect avocado, peanuts, and a punch of citrus and gochugaru vinaigrette. It’s entree-level intrigue in a dish many restaurants phone in. When Perrault, a Yakima native, returned home with wife Michelle Kim, they served the most comforting ramen that side of the Cascades. In 2022, they changed their restaurant to lean deeper into Kim’s Korean heritage. Perrault still sources from nearby farms, still makes casual food with flavors that loom large. That cucumber salad, thankfully, remains unchanged.

A dining room all but hidden inside a former cracker factory subverts the “old brick and railroad tracks” ambience with tall windows and plush banquettes. Here, a cadre of chefs bring a host of seasonal ingredients into impressive harmony—each achievement punctuated with edible flowers. Squid ink ravioli arrives filled with spinach ricotta, atop smoked pea puree, with duck prosciutto and brown butter. A melon and prosciutto salad might also involve fennel, arugula, and pistachio dukka. The creativity is impressive; so is the success rate. Desserts wield these expansive tendencies especially well.

The world is full of cheffy tacos, but Travis Dickinson’s layers of flavor (and the reasonable price tag) put Cochinito’s in a stratosphere of their own. Dickinson, the chef and co-owner, applies the techniques and sourcing of his training in higher-end Portland kitchens to a lineup of 10-ish fillings. His ethos: Treat each tortilla like a tiny plate. In this case, plates are made of house-blended yellow and white masa, and might support chunks of steelhead al pastor. Or duck confit, bits of roasted brussels sprouts, stewy mole, and candied hazelnuts. This handiwork comes on metal trays, but you can dignify that fast-casual vibe with a really good margarita. 

“We do something really crazy here,” servers caution upon your arrival. The craziness in question is the “chef’s marathon” tasting menu—six courses that remain a mystery until they arrive at the table. No disrespect to chef Peter Froese’s other, three-course option, but the real madness would be bypassing this marathon of modern Italian fare. Dinner starts with stuzzichini (aka snacks), then a splay of seasonal vegetables with subtle prosciutto. A particularly brilliant touch: One course of delicate pasta on individual plates, followed by a hearty bowl to share with tongs—both ends of the pasta pleasure spectrum, delivered in one sitting. Wine pairings are also exceptionally fun. The lunch menu centers on share plates, but whatever the time of day, this just might be the best meal in Spokane.

Felipe Hernández may have scored a James Beard America's Classics award in 2018, but he didn't change much at his humble tamale shop just south of Yakima, a white cinderblock building surrounded by auto dealers. Pork tamales are a bestseller year-round, but in late spring the staff, mostly family, moves into a higher gear for their seasonal signature, fresh local asparagus and sharp pepper jack cheese wrapped in homemade masa. Even with a second location in rapidly expanding Yakima, the asparagus version faces occasional sellouts, though the shop makes them through August. Score two hot with beans and rice—and maybe a chilled Jarritos in a glass bottle—for a meal on tables draped in plastic tablecloths, a simple idea perfectly executed with warmth and flavor. Then add a dozen frozen to go.

Roast chicken with bread salad and kale, pork chops, handmade spaghetti carbonara—this menu looks straightforward. But meticulous details make you remember why these dishes became dinner icons in the first place. Owner Nikiforos Pitsilionis keeps the staples consistent, but the kitchen has loads of fun on the fresh sheet, with specials like braised local ram (yes, ram)—processed at the nearby Washington State University’s animal science program meat lab—atop house pappardelle. Pitsilionis’s heritage surfaces on dishes like skewers of properly Greek souvlaki. The cocktail program welcomes all comers, but also makes its own orgeat, not to mention flawless drinks. This combo of humble perfectionism suits Pullman, and charms visitors.

Ben Herreid sold his mushroom ravioli at farmers markets a decade before he ever opened a restaurant in downtown Leavenworth. It immediately became a menu staple he can't remove without complaints. But now with the luxury of a dining room in a tourist town, he can switch up the filling for the latest foraged fungi from the surrounding mountains. He's hardly hemmed in, though; with at least a half dozen other pastas on offer at a time, he still gets to venture into campanelle made with a bronze die press or macaroni done Cajun style, heaped onto plates in a volume that leaves tourists wondering what they're going to do with leftovers. Forgoing the German fare around them—"You can only eat so much bratwurst," he reasons—Herreid and partner lean into a mountaineering theme, complete with a mountain goat head mounted above the bar.

After sunsetting a mini empire in Seattle—that once included Steelhead Diner, Blueacre Seafood, and Orfeo—during the early pandemic, Kevin Davis downsized into a single 40-seater on the Yakima River just south of Ellensburg. There the avid fisher is back to cooking on the line every service; he fits right in next door to a fly-fishing guide service run by friends. Seafood, naturally, shines the brightest in the rustic lodge (though not fish from the largely catch-and-release river out back). A stream-caught rainbow trout arrives bathed in fermented black bean sauce, the Yakima corn hush puppies stacked on plates painted with casting flies. The china may be a remnant of the old Steelhead, but, like Davis, it feels more at home here. Especially when the patio opens for in-your-face views of the dusty cliffs that drop to the river.