13 Coins, Maybe One Last Time...

Milestones with a U-Turn, an omelette and an old-school restaurant

Two days ago, I took my aunt to Seattle-Tacoma International Airport for her flight back to Cincinnati. Like many airports, Sea-Tac is always under some kind of construction meant to make it easier to get into an out of the place. And, like many airports, that construction never really alleviates the issues it is supposed to correct.

So, after handing off my aunt to my cousin at the curb outside the Delta Airlines check-in counter, I nudged my way into the traffic heading out of Sea-Tac. Normally, I head straight to I-5 South for the drive to my mom’s house in Tacoma. Anyone who has done this drive knows that it could be an easy 30-minute shot, or a nightmarish slog of an hour or more depending on factors such as traffic, weather and the typical Seattle-region drivers who take the 65-mph speed limit as a literal limit for how fast they should drive on the highway.

However, this time, I decided to instead drive down International Boulevard—or, as any true Puget Sound native calls it “Old Highway 99”—the original surface street route that was the only artery from Tacoma to Seattle before I-5 was built. Old Highway 99 is now a miles-long strip of typical American retail sprawl. In the area near Sea-Tac, that includes numerous airport parking lots, gas stations with prices meant to gouge rental-car returners, and a few bars that offer cheesily named cocktails and theme nights to local drinkers.

But, barely a mile into my drive, I caught something to my left that was definitely unlike anything else on Old Highway 99. It was a place I knew well, but hadn’t patronized in almost 20 years. I made a U-Turn at the next light, pulled into the parking lot and I was soon opening the door to a place that, for those of us that are from this area, is legendary.

I was at the 13 Coins restaurant.

If you aren’t from the greater Seattle area, you might not know about 13 Coins. But, hopefully, you know of a place like 13 Coins. It’s the kind of restaurant that we see less and less of today. A place that actually has a soul.

13 Coins is one of those local institutions that seems to have been around forever. It’s actually been around since 1967, which might as well be forever, since the typical restaurant stays open for about 18 months, if it’s lucky. According to the restaurant, its name comes from a Peruvian legend in which a man of few means fell in love with a young girl. Her parents asked what he could offer their daughter if he had no money. The man reached into his pocket, where he had only 13 coins, but he promised to pledge his undying love, care and concern to the girl. This was enough for the girl’s parents to give their blessing to the young man. In honor of this symbol of devotion, 13 Coins has embedded 13 coins in many of its tables throughout the restaurant.

I know that can sound a little corny, like one of those “Live, Laugh, Love” signs people get at Hobby Lobby and put in their living rooms in an effort to inspire canned positivity when the kids are fighting about how someone keeps “stealing” the other’s clothes. (Not that my daughters would do anything like that because those teenagers are perfect Facebook-post-worthy angels. Besides, we don’t have a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign in our house, anyway).

But, there is nothing corny about 13 Coins.

When you step inside 13 Coins, you expect to see the likes of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin nursing bourbons at a table in one of the restaurants private-dining rooms. There is a certain Rat Pack-era vibe to the place. That’s what you get with dark wood—not paneling, but a real, dark wood interior, warm, low-level lighting and booths with leather seats and backs high enough that there is no way the people at the next table can see you during your meal. On the day I went in, I chose to sit at the bar, where the swiveling leather Captains Chairs almost completely enclose you as you dig into one of 13 Coins famous omelettes.

The breakfasts are probably what 13 Coins is best-known for, with different types of Eggs Benedict, scrambles and chicken and waffles among the offerings besides a slate of omelettes on the menu. The kitchen also serves up classics like ribeye and New York steaks, chicken marsala and fettuccine with clams 24 hours a day. Like any good all-night joint, 13 Coins has your tastes covered whether you are coming in for a fancy dinner, feeding a 2 a.m. hunger after last call, or deciding at the last minute that breakfast is what you need after dropping your aunt off at Sea-Tac Airport at 8:30 a.m.

I live in Oakland, and haven’t lived in the Pacific Northwest full-time for more than 30 years, but it’s still “home” to me. But, I really don’t know how many more times I will make it back up here. My mom is getting older and has some health issues, and not to be morbid, but even she says she has more days behind her than in front of her. I’ve visited here about dozen times over the last year and half, and every time, I have wondered if it will be the last time I will be here and get to do something I can only do here.

Seeing Mount Rainier’s 14,410-ft. profile from I-5. Sitting with Dave Niehaus’ statue at the Seattle Mariners’ T-Mobile Park. Picking up some Seattle-area beers that I can’t find in California (and taking those back to California in my suitcase). Picking up a chicken-fried steak omelette from Marcia’s Silver Spoon Diner in Tacoma. Those are just some of the things that have kept me tied to the place where I grew up, and which shaped much of who I have become. And I wonder if this time will be the last time I get to experience those things.

And that “last time” factor is why I took that unplanned U-Turn and walked into 13 Coins two days ago. I don’t know if I will make it back there again. But, like many things that are uniquely “Washington”, I at least got to feel its soul one more time.