A glutton for sweet punishment

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Kingfish Cafe

602 19th Ave. E.

Seattle

206-320-8757

SOUTHERN

# # 1/2

$$

Reservations: Not accepted

Hours: Lunch Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m.; dinner Monday, Wednesday, Thursday 6 p.m.-9 p.m., Friday-Saturday 6 p.m.-10 p.m.; Sunday brunch 11 a.m.-2 p.m.

Prices: Lunch: starters $2.95-$5.50, entrees $6.50-$9; dinner: starters $2.95-$9.95, entrees $8.25-$16; brunch: $4-$7.95

Parking: On street

Beer and wine only / No credit cards (checks OK) / No obstacles to access / No smoking

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Kingfish Cafe is an exquisite form of torture. First, there's the lengthy wait for a table, followed by a long slow read of rhythmic prose - chef Kenyetta Carter's contemporary Song-of-the-South menu. "Should I be `good?' " you ask, eyeing Aunt Billie's Dungeness Crab Salad. "Or should I get real and dive into Miss Choo Choo's Company's Comin' Rib Eye Summer Steak or My Way or the Highway Buttermilk Fried Chicken and its sweet, sassy mess of collards?"

Of course, there's always the agony of knowing that at meal's end you will be groaning, barely able to move, yet destined to confront Jenny Craig's worst nightmare: dessert. Monstrous slices of red velvet cake with buttercream frosting and mountainous strawberry shortcake wearing heaps of whipped cream are part of the many irresistible visuals found here.

Pain-inducing though it may be, the wait, the choices and those dastardly desserts are not the worst part of dining at this hip little torture-chamber - not by a long shot. The worst part, for me, at least, is wearing 20 extra pounds and a badly applied layer of Estee Lauder Sunless SuperTan while eating a crisp, hot, Southern-fried chicken drumstick served by Seattle's most beautiful women, waitresses whose cocoa-colored, size 4 midriffs have the audacity to stare me right in my chubby, faux-tanned face. Take me out and shoot me! But first, how about some more of that buttery cornbread?

Food, mood or pulchritude, the ogling opportunities at this popular neighborhood cafe are endless. For that we can thank the glamorous Coaston sisters, whose 3-year-old Kingfish is a proud paean to their African-American ancestry. When they're not busy pouring wine, clearing tables or handling emergency plumbing problems, these hard-working women are plating up desserts, monitoring crowd control and showing off their own gorgeous midriffs.

Twins Laurel and Leslie and big sister Natalie run a smooth operation under the watchful eyes of extended family; their relatives' vintage photos, larger than life, hang from cream-colored walls. Fresh flowers and iron scrollwork play elegant counterpoint to scuffed wooden floors and hard wooden chairs. Ceiling fans sway in two skinny rooms as patrons dine in close quarters, leaning even closer to be heard above the convivial clamor. Customers not yet seated may be found waiting at the bar, lounging on velveteen club chairs up front, or hanging outside on this shady, tree-lined, Capitol Hill corner. The wait, most will agree, is worth it.

Carter and crew dish up their rib-sticking vittles from an open kitchen, doing a fine job keeping pace. Sticking to their Kansas City ribs ($16) are shards of pullable pork, barely clinging to its bones. You'll need fork, not fingers for swabbing the tender meat through the sweet-heat of its barbecue sauce. Don't expect to soothe your tongue with a side of creamy new-potato salad; it, too, offers a spicy kick.

Much of Carter's fare screams with flavor, and none more loudly than the corn pudding escorting Miss Choo Choo's tenderly grilled rib-eye ($15.95). Jalapeno and garlic shout it out in this soft-textured treat, a grown-up take on pabulum that'll have you screaming, "Oh, baby!" Far less flavorful is a pretty plate of dull-tasting, room-temp vegetables ($9.95) - including, among other roasted not-so-goodies, asparagus, corn on the cob and portobello mushroom. This wanted for excitement, just as the sweet peppers and multitude of garlic cloves wanted for further roasting.

Fear of frying shouldn't dissuade anyone from lunching on Miss Mary Mac's fried-chicken salad ($9), its buxom breast flattened, corseted with crunch and layered over greens with buttermilk dressing. Nor should you shy from Simply Griddled Catfish ($9.50), jacketed in cornmeal and griddle-fried to a moist crisp. At lunch this cat is given the Po' Boy treatment ($7), sandwiched in a soft, slaw-bedecked bun with pickle, tomato and a righteous tartar sauce. South meets Northwest when catfish two-steps with Dungeness crab in an onion- and sweet pepper-flecked crabcake sandwich ($7.95, lunch). These cakes dance at dinner, too, as either appetizer ($7.95, for three big cakes) or entree ($11.95).

New Orleans gets its due with andouille sausage- and tasso-stoked red beans and rice ($7.75/$8.25) and Jazz It Slow Gumbo ($15). These roll out of this kitchen on hefty plates, making those model-thin girls' slender arms strong. As for me, I'll just keep making mine fat: reaching for the buttermilk fried chicken ($10.95) and leaving just enough room for dessert.