Seattle's Classic Hideaway -- Open The Pink Door For Homey, Uncomplicated Fare

------------------------------- RESTAURANT REVIEW

# # 1/2 The Pink Door ($$) 1919 Post Alley, Pike Place Market, Seattle Reservations: 206-443-3241 Hours: 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m. Tuesday-Saturday (bar menu served until 1 a.m.) Prices: Lunch: starters, $4.50-$7.95, entrees $7.75-$13.25; Dinner: starters $4.50-$8.95, entrees $18.95; bar menu: starters, $6.50-$8.95, entrees, $10.25-$16.50 -- Full bar -- Credit cards: AE, MC, V -- Obstacles to access: stairway -- Smoking: lounge only -- Parking: validated (after 5 p.m.) at Public Market parking garage (1531 Western Ave.) -------------------------------

It's practically a hideaway, certainly a hangout and definitely a Seattle classic. Secure a spot on the expansive rooftop terrace, pray to the gods for a moonlit evening, and you won't have to ask why the Pink Door continues to win our hearts and soul-O-mios after all these years.

Off Post Alley, accessible through a private pink portal, the Pink Door is kitschy but never obnoxiously so. It's a comfortable slice of bohemia, chow-Ital style, brought to you by owner Jacqueline Roberts, who has been running the show since 1981.

Roberts (aka "La Padrona") provides a stage for the doyenne of campy cabaret, Julie CasCioppo (Tuesday nights), and a venue for roving accordionist Tony Yazzolino (Friday and Saturday). She also orchestrates a well-tuned band of servers trained never to give you the stink-eye, no matter how long you linger over espresso. In return, you should promise to never give it back - no matter how long you wait between courses.

I've always been the Pink Door's fair-weather friend, showing up only to dine alfresco under strings of colored mood lights and cover of darkness. But on two recent visits, the outdoor tables were either taken or being rained on. So I dined in the dim, subterranean dining room, under a soaring ceiling hung with a wooden swing big enough to accommodate a culo of Pavarotti proportion. At a table near the central fountain, I dipped great bread into good olive oil while perusing a menu that, for the most part, delivers homey, uncomplicated fare.

Atmosphere counts

Not that there's anything wrong with homey fare. In an atmosphere this festive, it doesn't matter if the grilled vegetable platter is a simple, oil-brushed composition of fennel, beets and squash easily replicated on your Weber.

Nor is it a bad thing that the spaghetti alla puttanesca ($10/$11.50, and in need of a little more "putta") and the penne caprese ($11.50/$12, enough for two meals) are something you might quickly pull together in the comfort of your kitchen.

Oh, you'll find a couple of swellegant dishes here. Such as the herb-rubbed beef tenderloin, capped with melted gorgonzola, draped with a rich demi-glace and paired with crisp potatoes and luscious, slow-roasted tomatoes ($18.95). Or a lightly seasoned, pan-seared halibut ($18.95) which, delish as it was, managed to play second-fiddle to pearls of Israeli couscous. It's easy to see why these - and clams or mussels, steamed in a cream- and butter-enriched wine broth ($12.50/$14.50) - are considered specialties of the house.

The tapanada appetizer ($6.95/$7.50), an olive spread made from bland black olives, has long been a Pink Door must-do - though not for me. Nonetheless, I'm always glad to see a heap of it on the antipasto plate ($7.95/$8.95). That way, I get to say, "No, no! You have the rest of the tapanada!" while I stuff my face with the likes of prosciutto, housemade mozzarella, Tuscan bean salad and sweet roasted peppers.

A few clinks

In the course of three recent meals I've caught a few clinks, including a house salad whose vinaigrette was entirely too sharp and a panzanella salad overwhelmed with soggy rustic-bread innards. And even a clunk: "bruschetta" disguised as Wonderbread waved over a toaster, lacking little of the promised smoked salmon and sporting lots of underripe tomatoes. But I've also been pleased: with a pizza bianca bearing butter-enhanced oyster mushrooms and a molten layer of mozzarella; and a glorious grilled vegetable sandwich on a crusty but not tooth-busting Grand Central Bolo roll smeared with basil aioli.

I even encountered an enchanting, eminently memorable dessert: a nasturtium-wearing rose geranium panna cotta, the creamiest custard imaginable. But chances are it could have been a freezer-burnt Twinkie and I'd still have enjoyed it. You see, I'd finally scored a rooftop table. And the gods were smiling.

Nancy Leson's phone number is 206-464-8838. Her e-mail is nleson@seattletimes.com.